“I’ll show you where we’ll be working. Come with me.”
Rina followed him past the luxurious reception area and down a thickly carpeted hallway. On each side she could see into a variety of offices. Some individual, some clearly shared in a more open plan environment. Near the end, the hallway widened considerably into a second waiting area. A desk and computer guarded the entry into another office space and as Reynard pushed open the doors, Rina felt as though she was being drawn into the inner sanctum of some medieval master.
Rey flicked a bank of switches on the wall and subtle lighting brought the room to life. As opposed to the modern and somewhat minimalistic furnishings he employed in his apartment, this was all old-world splendor. With her PR background, Rina could acknowledge the clever planning behind the decorating decision. The del Castillo brand resonated with wealth, power and history, all of which were reflected in the richly decorated space.
Highly polished mahogany panels lined the walls and deep leather furniture sprawled over the hand-knotted Persian carpets that covered the floor. A large partner desk dominated one side of the office, with a computer flat screen perched on one side. Judging by the papers scattered over the desk, this was very definitely Rey’s work space and he used every centimeter of it.
The contrast between the ordered neatness of his home life and the rich disarray of his working world struck her as strange, at first glance. For most people it was the other way around.
When she thought about it, though, she had to admit to enjoying keeping her semidetached townhouse back in Christchurch in a neat and tidy state so it was an oasis for her when she arrived home from work each day. Seeing Rey’s personality so similarly reflected hers, she appreciated more sharply how much she looked forward to coming home to a calm and organized atmosphere.
In this room, she could feel the energy of the work-place even despite its lavish opulence. This was a true representation of the Reynard del Castillo she’d come to know since her arrival here. Focused, determined, but still taking the time to appreciate the indulgences his life afforded.
She wandered over to the large corner window that overlooked the city lights. From here, she could just about see the harbor in the distance, but overall she had the impression of being able to look out over the whole world.
Heat suffused her back as she became aware of Rey standing close behind her. His reflection stared at her in the glass. With the sparkle of the city’s lights a halo around him and his features thrown into relief by the office lighting, she was struck anew by the sheer male beauty of him. His eyes burned under heavy dark brows, his chiseled cheekbones high and leaving his cheeks in shadows below them.
She found herself staring at his lips, at the full lower curve, the deeply indented cupid’s bow of his upper lip. She doubted even Michelangelo’s skill could have captured his near-perfect features. She wished she had the right to touch him, to trace the sharply defined edges, to reach up and kiss him, taste him again.
Rina closed her eyes briefly, unsure whether in doing so she was erasing his image from her memory, or imprinting it there in perpetuity. She started as a warm hand enveloped her shoulders, long fingers gently gripping her bare flesh. It would be the most natural thing in the world to just allow herself to lean back against the expanse of his broad chest. To let his heat infuse her body. To drop her head against his shoulders and to expose her neck to his touch.
Her eyes flew open as Rey lifted her tumbling hair to one side and with that one single movement, exposed the tender skin of her throat and neck. The image she watched now was strangely sensual as the dark-haired man, trapped in the glass, bent to press his lips to the exact point where her shoulder and neck met. She gasped at the contact, trying desperately to quell the throb of longing that pulled inexorably through her body at his touch.
Rey lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers in their reflection again.
“It’s quite a view, isn’t it?”
His voice was deep, the sound a rumble of air across the shell of her ear. The innuendo in his voice was as sinfully persuasive as the touch of his hands on her shoulders, hands which seemed to have a mind of their own as they skimmed down her arms and over her body, one reaching up to cup her breast through the vibrant blue fabric of her dress, the other skimming down, over her hip and lower.