Sweet Thing: A steamy book where a one night stand could lead to much more. Perfect for fans of Fifty Shades Freed

Sadness clogged my throat. Potent. Disorienting.

When she opened a door marked ‘Office’ off the corridor, I’d never been more grateful.

I couldn’t enter the kitchen right now, not when some strange nostalgia gripped me, making me yearn for a past I’d left behind a long time ago.

‘Remy’s very organised, so you’ll find everything documented in spreadsheets. Supply order forms. Current stock. Online orders. The works...’ She trailed off as I slammed the door, wishing I could do the same on the memories swamping me. ‘Tell me what’s wrong.’

‘Nothing,’ I growled, annoyed that she was so insightful. ‘Continue the induction.’

‘No.’ She folded her arms, her superiority annoying me as much as the relentless memories of how much I missed Mum. ‘For some reason, being here has you rattled, and I need to know why so we can fix it.’

‘Babe, you may be many things, a shrink isn’t one of them.’ I stalked towards her, covering the short distance between us. ‘I don’t need to be fixed.’

‘I—I didn’t mean it like that.’ She took a small step back as I invaded her personal space. ‘I want this place to run smoothly while Remy’s away and if there’s a problem I want it sorted now before it affects business.’

I admired her dedication to my brother. Not many employees would give a rat’s ass about their boss’s business. But no way in hell would I stand here and be analysed by her ladyship.

‘So that’s what’s all-important to you, is it? Business?’

A tiny dent appeared between her brows, as if she didn’t understand the question, before she nodded. ‘Of course. Remy gave me a chance when my life was down the toilet. I owe him. And I won’t have you breezing in here on the pretext of helping and screwing it up.’

My respect ratcheted up further. I didn’t like many people in this world let alone respect them, so I decided to wind her up a little to detract from the flood of uncharacteristic emotions swamping me the last few minutes.

‘If you’re all business, when do you have time for pleasure?’

Her lips parted in a surprised little O and I took it a step further.

‘You do know what pleasure is?’

I leaned in, close enough to smell the sweetness of vanilla in her hair, close enough to see her porcelain skin was one hundred percent natural and unadorned by make-up, close enough to kiss her if I was so inclined.

‘Back off,’ she said, her fighting words at odds with the soft, breathy way she uttered them.

‘Make me.’ I squared my shoulders, wondering when I’d last enjoyed sparring with a woman this much.

‘You’re such a...child,’ she muttered, and I laughed at how she must’ve watered down that insult.

‘And you’re all woman.’ I leaned against a filing cabinet, knowing she’d have to push past me to get out. ‘But a prickly one. Don’t you ever lighten up?’

Anger sparked in her eyes, flecks of vibrant emerald and sizzling sapphire among the blue. ‘I haven’t got time to lighten up. I work ten-hour days here, five days a week, while attending classes one day a week to complete my apprenticeship. On Sunday, my one day off, I do extensive research to update my blog so that people will know who the hell I am if I eventually save up enough to open my own place one day.’

Her chest heaved with indignation as she tried to shove past me. ‘So why don’t you lighten the hell up and give me a freaking break?’

I should’ve felt bad for pushing her to this point. I didn’t. Because if her icy façade had turned me on, it had nothing on this outraged, furious woman.

She was spectacular.

So I calmed her down the only way I knew how.

I hauled her against me and kissed her.

I caught her off guard, her gasp of surprise all I needed to invade her mouth, my tongue taunting hers as much as my words.

I’d expected her to retreat. To possibly bite me. I didn’t expect the low moan that emanated from the back of her throat, like a primitive growl that reverberated all the way down to my soul. Or the way she pushed against me, so hard my back slammed against the filing cabinet.

The ice princess liked it rough and ready. Who knew?

I ravaged her mouth, palming her breast and tweaking a nipple as she writhed against me. Hot. Wanton. Abandoned.

If she didn’t stop, I wouldn’t be able to and, as much as I’d like to, screwing her on Remy’s desk my first day here wasn’t part of the plan.

Remy.

With an anguished groan I wrenched my mouth from hers, stunned I’d let it get this far.

What was it about this woman that made me forget boundaries let alone my own name?

‘I need to get to work.’ I pushed past her like nothing had happened and took a seat behind the desk, adjusting myself as I did so and wishing my brother had the smarts to install a shower at his workplace.

I’d never needed a cold shower so frigging badly.

Abby stared at me in open-mouthed disbelief. I knew the feeling. I couldn’t believe we’d just done that either.

‘I—you—shit,’ she muttered, shaking her head as I tried not to notice her reddened lips and her flushed cheeks, blond tendrils sticking out all over the place.

She looked like we’d done a lot more than kiss, and my cock throbbed again.

‘Don’t expect me to apologise for that,’ I said, waving her away in a cruel dismissal, like the kiss meant nothing.

When in fact I needed her to leave ASAP so I wouldn’t be tempted for a repeat. Next time, I might not be able to stop.

‘I don’t expect anything from you.’ The haughtiness was back as she tilted her chin and stared down her nose at me. ‘Not a single bloody thing.’

She slammed the door on her way out.

I didn’t blame her.

CHAPTER FIVE (#ub4902274-a542-5346-adb8-120672ca409b)

Abby

IF THERE WERE awards handed out to people for the art of pretending, I’d have an entire shelf full. A room full. An entire house full. I’d be in the academy’s hall of freaking fame.

I’d done it my whole life. Pretending I liked the handcrafted silver jewellery box for my seventh birthday when I’d wanted a backyard cricket set. Pretending I liked having a fully catered disco party for my thirteenth birthday when I’d wanted to have fish and chips on the beach with my only friend. Pretending I didn’t mind having a lavish society wedding when I would’ve been happy swapping vows at the register office.

Yeah, I was an expert at pretence. A goddamn queen. Which was how I managed to get through the rest of the day, creating brioche and baguettes and pains au chocolat, like that kiss had never happened.

That kiss.