14. Nat

Now that Max has gone, I can breathe again. I should be pleased he's left. But as much as his intense, overbearing personality scares me, I can't ignore the attraction I feel.

Max is the first man since Rick who has provoked any kind of physical response. My body still hums with needy desire and my nipples are so hard they could cut glass. When he held me in his arms, so close I could feel his huge erection, I was two seconds away from climbing him like a tree.

I'm almost ashamed of my lack of restraint. I'm supposed to be working, goddammit!

Speaking of…

James hustles over, lugging his heavy camera bag. He looks pissed.

"Where the fuck have you been?" he snaps, lips pursed at the sight of me with a glass of something suspiciously alcoholic. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Clearly not that hard." I roll my eyes and lift my glass. He doesn't appreciate my sarcasm. "Look, it's all in hand. I'm talking to the mayor after his speech. You can get some shots of him then. Then we can get the fuck out of here."

"Good," he grumbles, dropping the camera bag. "I have a Tinder date standing by."

I snort. James has a reputation for fucking anything with a pulse, male or female, so this doesn't surprise me.

"Heaven forbid you don't get your dick wet for once." I suppose I should be happy for him. At least one of us is unashamedly getting some.

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Always happy to share…"

Gross.James is so not my type. Much too lanky, with not enough hair. Nothing like…Max.

God, Max.

Max in a tux puts the angels in heaven to shame. The man is sex on legs. All hard muscle and danger vibes. Just the thought of unwrapping that package is enough to make me salivate like a dog with a sausage.

OK, so sausage probably isn't the visual I need right now.

Max's … err … sausage was on the extra-large, exceptionally girthy side, from what I could tell.

Dear lord.

I mentally fan myself like a Victorian spinster as a hot flush overcomes me. James stares at me like I'm having some kind of mental breakdown. He's not an idiot. He can tell my mind is a million miles away from the job this evening.

Another long gulp of my rapidly disappearing vodka helps ground me. That and a mental snapshot of James naked is enough to vanquish any lingering sexual fog.

"Erm … that's a hard pass from me. But you kids have fun."

James laughs lightly before ordering himself a cola.

Unlike me, he's a professional.

Another fucking drink is essential to get me through this evening.

I raise my hand and request another vodka from the hovering bartender. I need all the help I can get if I'm to deal with the mayor in … I glance at my watch … 54 minutes.

"Miss Rossi, a pleasure."

The mayor's beady little eyes flick over my silky dress with a great deal more appreciation than I'd like. If only I'd dressed down not up.

"Mayor Kolanski. Are you ready to answer a few questions?"

James has taken plenty of photos of the mayor, more than enough for the feature we're running on his charitable foundation. The photos from this evening, interspersed with shots from the press pack his PR team sent over, should paint a pretty picture.

One of a generous benefactor, willing to go the extra mile for the vulnerable citizens of this city.

A man with plenty of generous friends, all of whom love putting their hands in their pockets for a good cause.

What a shame it's all smoke and mirrors.

"More than ready, Miss Rossi." After one last lingering glance at my tits, he picks up a glass of water and sits down opposite me. I place my iPhone on the table between us to record the interview, even though I have my trusty notebook in hand.

The mayor is nice and relaxed. It's been a successful evening for him. Lots of money was raised and he enjoyed plenty of photo opportunities with the rich and famous.

Watching him in action has been enlightening, reinforcing what I already knew: the man is a sleazy asshole.

"Tell me about your foundation, Mayor Kolanski. What gave you the idea?"

"Well, Miss Rossi, as I'm sure you're aware, I have a special interest in helping those less fortunate than myself…"

Twenty minutes later I have plenty of self-serving content for our readers. I pretend to be deeply interested in what the mayor's saying while noting how his eyes keep drifting down my chest.

It's hard to maintain a neutral expression when every cell in my body recoils in disgust. Knowing that James is less than three feet away is reassuring, at least. From the way the mayor insists on touching my knee every few minutes, I'm not sure how much longer I can stand to be in the same room as him.

When he finally runs out of steam and I have enough quotes to complete the puff piece I'm writing, I manage a fake smile.

"Thank you, Mayor Kolanksi, this has been truly fascinating." Not.

"It's been my pleasure, Miss Rossi. If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to call my office. Or my personal cell." He pushes a card with a phone number across the table. The last thing I want is this man's cell number, but I reach for the card anyway. Because I'm polite and I don't want to jeopardize my position.

Just as my fingers touch the small card, his hand shoots out and grabs mine.

"Perhaps you'd like to go for dinner sometime, Miss Rossi," he says, his eyes fixed on my tits yet again. As I watch in horrified fascination, a fleshy pink tongue flicks out to moisten his lips. He reminds me of a snake, waiting to pounce on its prey.

Beads of sweat glisten across his forehead, even though the room is cool enough to cause my nipples to pucker up from the chill. Which is possibly why he turned the air-con on when he walked in.

I can smell him: a noxious combination of cologne and sweat.

It turns my stomach.

The hand gripping mine is moist. Unpleasantly so. I try to pull away but he's not letting go.

He leans forward and I lean back as far as I can manage while he grips my hand. "I'd very much like to get to know you better, Miss Rossi. Perhaps we could help each other…"

This time, I do manage to yank my hand back, while keeping a smile fixed firmly in place. The desire to wipe it on my dress is almost overpowering but I force myself to stay calm.

Memories of Rick looming over me, intimidating me, are front and center.

My heart thuds painfully in my chest. Black spots flicker on the periphery of my vision.

This isn't Rick.

Rick is … gone.

James is busy putting his camera equipment back in the bag but from the way he keeps looking at me with concern, he's aware of my discomfort.

"Sure, that sounds like fun." My voice stumbles over the word ‘fun'. It sounds unnatural, a little too high. "I have to go now, and I'm sure you have people to chat to before the evening ends." Grabbing my iPhone and shoving it into my bag, along with my notebook, I stand quickly. My legs are shaking so hard they knock on the table, causing the mayor's glass of water to spill everywhere, all over his meticulously polished dress shoes.

He frowns in annoyance but is quick to school his expression back to kind benevolence. The brief glimpse behind the curtain is disconcerting.

"Thank you again, Mayor Kolanski. I appreciate you taking the time for this interview."

I smile brightly. He watches as I fumble with my bag in my eagerness to escape. I get the impression he's enjoying my discomfort in the same way a cat takes pleasure from toying with a mouse before it goes in for the kill.

As I walk out after James, I can feel the mayor's eyes on me the whole time.

"That was … interesting," James mutters as we weave through the lingering guests on our way to the main exit.

I don't bother replying. My only concern at this point is getting the fuck out of this place before the mayor decides he can't bear to let me go.