Chapter 4 - Whatever It Takes

Mortified by the sudden intrusion into our privacy, I scrambled up and back into the armrest, pulling my skirt down.

"… your two o'clock is here."

It took an endless moment to realise that Menzi and I were still alone in the room, that the voice I'd heard had come through a speaker. He stood at the far end of the couch, flushed and scowling, his chest heaving. His tie was loosened and the front of his trousers strained against a very impressive erection.

I had a nightmare vision in my head of what I must look like. And I was late getting back to work.

"Christ." He shoved both hands through his hair. "It's the middle of the fucking day. In my own goddamn office."

I got to my feet and tried to straighten myself out.

"Here." He came to me, pulling my skirt back up.

Furious at what I'd almost let happen when I should have been at work, I smacked at his hands. "Stop it. Leave me alone."

"Shut up, Aviwe," he said grimly, catching the hem of my black silk blouse and tugging it into place, adjusting it so the buttons formed a straight row between my breasts again. Then he pulled the skirt down and smoothed it with calm, expert hands. "Fix your bun."

Menzi retrieved his jacket, shrugging into it before straightening his tie. We reached the door at the same moment, and when I crouched for my handbag, he went down with me. He caught my chin and made me look at him.

"Hey," he said softly. "Are you okay?"