In the Market for Love - By Nina Blake Page 0,27

was married. He’d been forced into it by her close proximity to his wife in the corridor.

Meanwhile she’d been acting like a coquette in his office, teasing him, trying act seductive. She’d completely misinterpreted his signals. What a fool she’d been.

Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed. It wasn’t Jake for whom she was crying. He was just a man. And a married one at that. He wasn’t even the man she thought he was.

No, Jake Austin wasn’t worth shedding tears over. She stretched her arms onto the steering wheel for balance.

That man was a whirlwind, a tempest blowing through her life. He’d swept her into a storm and taken her to spinning heights and she’d known it was dangerous, known all along she could plummet to earth with the slightest slip. He’d given her a glimpse of things that could have been.

It was all coming back to her. The past was being whisked up. She couldn’t believe she’d let this happen to herself a second time.

First Nick.

Now Jake.

Both of them unfaithful.

* * *

Rachel saw her mobile phone vibrate on her desk through the corner of her eye, then heard its familiar ring. Jake’s name flashed on the little screen.

How could he phone her at work as though nothing had happened? What could he possibly have to say?

The man had gall. Far too much of it.

A realisation came to her and with it newfound calmness. Now that she knew his sordid secret, he couldn’t hurt her any more than he already had. There could be no harm in answering the call. He was nothing special to her.

She picked up the phone and heard the voice that had nearly seduced her with its rich, deep tones. “Hi Rachel. I’m sorry about this morning.”

Silence.

“When Emma barged into the office I had to run off quickly,” he said. “And I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye to you properly.”

She didn’t think failing to say goodbye even warranted an apology. Not compared to lying to her and using her. What would constitute a proper goodbye? Another passionate kiss where he pretended he cared for her?

She was trapped in a business relationship with him. Agency 66 was managing her campaign. She’d worked on it for two years. It was her baby and she was not going to let him ruin all her hard work. She’d be civil with him for they were colleagues after all. She’d prove she was better than him. And this conversation would be a quick one.

All she wanted to do was get through the day, get home, clear her mind and prepare to start afresh.

“No problem,” she said coolly. “What can I do for you?”

“I didn’t call about business. It’s about tonight. I wanted to speak to you about something this evening.”

“Jake, I don’t have time for anything other than the campaign.”

A pause. “Has something happened?”

The man was infuriating. He knew full well he was married.

“Look,” he said. “There have been a couple more alterations to the concepts so I was going to drop by this afternoon and leave them with you.”

“Sure, you can leave them at reception.”

“Reception? Rachel, I want to see you.”

And it occurred to her that perhaps she should see him one last time. Away from the campaign and their work environment. After all, why should he get off so lightly while she disappeared quietly into the background?

Tonight, she could tell him face to face. Let him know exactly what she thought of him.

“Not at the office,” she said. “Maybe you’re right about tonight. Not at a bar either. I’ll come to your place. I won’t stay long.”

“My place isn’t so good.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Of course no married man would want to meet at his house. That didn’t mean she was going to let him get away with it.

“Can I come to your place instead?” he asked. “That’d be easier for me.”

“That won’t work. You’d have to get a baby sitter for a start. That’s not easy at such short notice.”

“A baby sitter won’t be a problem,” he said. “I’ve been renovating and–”

“I don’t want to hear about it. It’s your place or you can forget it.”

There was a pause at the other end of the phone. She’d let him stew.

Eventually he said, “My place at 7.30. Connor should be in bed by then. I don’t want to disturb his routine.”

She scribbled down the address, looking forward to an early evening drive to Mosman, one of Sydney’s finest suburbs.

He wouldn’t get the better of her.

* *