The Tempest
Later That Afternoon
The afternoon meeting with Malfoy was drawing to a close when the door to his office was unceremoniously thrown open. The shockingly loud thwack of the hardwood against the wall had Andrew instinctually drawing back into his emerald green high-backed armchair. Curious to discover what had made the noise, he peeked out and saw a wondrous sight to his far right. A frazzled spinster had hastily followed an extremely irate, very familiar, woman who had stormed blindly into Draco's private meeting room.
"Mr. Malfoy, she wouldn't listen," the elder woman insisted in a most upset, high-pitched tone. "I tried and tried to stop her from coming through. Honestly, I did!"
"Think nothing of it, Ingrid. I'll take care of it," Malfoy sighed loudly, bringing his long, elegant fingers to his temples. Draco's timid little gray-haired secretary backed out of the room wide-eyed as Hermione launched into her tirade, unconcerned that she might have an audience beyond her intended target.
"Malfoy, I want my things back! By TONIGHT!" The air fairly sparked around her as she lashed out the words at the blond man behind the mohagony desk. Andrew noticed her earlier attempt at a casual up-do failed in its fight against gravity. The appealing length of her wavy curls now splayed around her shoulders and cascaded down her back, wayward strands flew around her heart-shaped face with every stinging jab she threw at the unconcerned man across the room.
"Granger, you cannot simply storm in here any time of day without warning," Malfoy's calm, langorous drawl irritated even Andrew. He half expected the man to lean back and prop his feet atop his desk.
"I am through with civility, you pompous arse! I most certainly can and will damn well do as I please, you... you... cockroach! I don't know who you think you are–"
Interesting put down. Malfoy's scoff and eyeroll indicated just how effective her words were.
"—I, Hermione, am the man you will never be able to replace. I am keeping your things until you finally see sense, Granger. I made a simple mistake and am awaiting your realization that for you, there is no one else but me."
"Why, you insufferable, adulterous–"
"Ahem..." Andrew cleared his throat to remind Malfoy of his presence, worried Hermione might launch herself at the blond to claw his eyes out with her practical, tidily-manicured nails. Malfoy's new business parter watched in amusement as Hermione's eyes widened at the sight of him.
Neatly recovering his social grace, Malfoy gestured toward Andrew and began to make introductions as though Hermione had just calmly strolled in. "How perfectly rude of me, Hermione. This is–"
Andrew took sudden note of a devilish gleam in Miss Granger's eye. He sat momentarily stunned as she strutted towards him, arms outstretched in an overly familiar approach.
"Drew! Darling, why didn't you tell me you were meeting with Draco, today!"
Manners and good breeding instilled by his mum, and drilled into him by his hard-working dad, prompted Andrew to rise to his feet as the woman from the coffee shop neared. The slight sway of her hips was utterly mesmerizing. Once she'd made her way before him, Hermione stood up on tiptoe, and placed a soft palm against his jaw as though she'd touched him like this many times before. He felt compelled to move his head closer to hers. With her hair now partially hiding her profile from Malfoy, she strategically drew her mouth to Andrew's ear and whispered, "Play along."
And with that she recklessly curled her hand around the nape of his neck, drawing Andrew's mouth to hers and giving him a kiss that should have lit the ends of his hair on fire. Having been deprived of such lascivious attentions of late, it wasn't that difficult for Andrew to fall into her playact. Her surprisingly agile tongue was doing delicious things to his own and her petite curvy body slid restlessly against his, enflaming his every nerve cell.
Halloween spice, rich cream, and just a touch of expresso mixed inextricably with the delicious, delicate essence of her.
Now that was a taste Andrew wouldn't mind waking up to.
The indescribable feeling of being wanted by this insatiable armful of wanting femininity had Andrew's hand, which before had been chastely placed at her waist, langorously making a slow trail up Hermione's back. His fingers tangled in her riotous curls, pulling her impossibly closer. As her shapely calf brazenly twined around and then languidly rubbed against the back of his leg, Andrew discovered that his otherwise well-behaved hand was snaking back down to possessively cup her...
A low possessive growl emanating from the vicinity of the only desk in the room had Andrew reluctantly halting the heart-pounding sensual journey he'd been making in Hermione's amorous embrace. His breath came heavily and she would have been blind not to notice Andrew's heated sidelong stare. She sure felt his vice-like grip clutching the back of her blouse. Evidently, he'd been of sound enough mind to impede her escape, had she decided to flee.
There was no chance of flight, Hermione thought ruefully, since she, too, couldn't recover from their unexpected, blazing hot snog as quickly as she would have liked. As it was, one of her arms traitorously remained tightly wound around Andrew's waist. After a head toss and her fifth ragged intake of breath, Hermione at last managed to convince herself that she was only holding on to Andrew to keep her balance. Hermione chose to ignore the moist evidence of her body's carnal response to the feel of his taut, sinewy muscles beneath the palm of her hand. And now, even with both feet firmly planted on the ground, her fingers continued to stray up and down his side, beneath his Armani suit jacket. A slow sensuous smile snaked across her lips as she heard his breath catch and watched Draco's silver eyes narrow.
"You know each other?"
Though most of Andrew's attention was diverted to the distraction of Hermione's traveling hand, the utter incredulity in his nearly-new partner's voice sent deafening red sirens screaming through Andrew's head. But before he could reignite his brain synapses to comprehend the meaning of Malfoy's question, both men heard Hermione's brassy retort.
"Oh, in the most biblical of senses, Malfoy."
Dismayed, Draco watched his former lover audaciously slide her free palm up and down Andrew's much broader torso.
Andrew clenched his jaw as he felt what little blood he had left in his brain rush southward. Fortunately, he had the presence of mind to place his left hand in his pants pocket to cover up his arousal. But while he might have been adept at immediate camouflage, Andrew couldn't suppress a groan as Hermione turned to him with her smoky gaze. He also couldn't decide if he was incredibly lucky, or extremely unfortunate in business, to have been caught in this place, at this time, with this woman and her dangerous black magic.
Hermione's sultry gaze continued to pin him to Malfoy's lush oriental carpet. It was getting more and more difficult for Andrew to remember his name as she looked at him and continued to glide her hand against him. Her sizzling stare had even him believing they might have had more than their fair share of passionate nights together.
Andrew noted that she, maddeningly enough, seemed to be in full possession of her faculties.
"Obviously, Draco, I've successfully moved on," she emphasized her words with her lingering perusal of his chest. "And believe me, Malfoy, thanks to Andrew here, I've discovered just how easily replaceable you are." Her casually tossed comment and her greedy little hand further incited Andrew's heated reaction toward her when he knew he should be affronted by her cavalier comments.
Bloody hell, but this woman was scary!
Being caught in the middle of a lover's spat was indeed a deadly place to find oneself. Particularly threatening to the pocketbook if Andrew wasn't careful.
"I didn't know that you two were an item," Andrew asserted, releasing his grip on the back of Hermione's now wrinkled shirt and placing his palm more suitably around her trim waist.
He'd meant for his words as a side-step, not wishing to anger either of them. Certainly this dark-eyed spitfire, who was one hell of a kisser, might be worth the bother of going toe-to-toe with Malfoy. Andrew could hardly resist the challenge of such a conquest, particularly since all but one of the merger documents had already been signed and his own body was still at full-mast thanks to her unconscious ministrations.
"I met Miss Granger at the coffee shop around the corner from your building," Andrew honestly admitted.
"When?" Malfoy glowered, his tone menacing and accusatory. Draco's eyes shrewdly remained on Wright's face, clearly not wanting to stray anywhere else while Hermione of the wandering hands stood beside his business associate, perhaps now romantic rival.
"We met up just this morning, as a matter of fact," Hermione replied tartly, purposely implying the two had shared clandestine meetings numerous times before. She shifted her gaze to avoid looking at the handsome, enticing stranger she clutched beside her. But when she spied Draco angrily busying himself with something on his desk, she sent Andrew a quick silent plea. Sensing nothing now but benign curiosity from her partner in crime, she continued to incite the fidgeting blond.
"It's a habit we've shared for a long time," she offered boldly, "not that it's any of your bloody business, Ferret."
OK, technically not a lie, Andrew thought, not sure whether he should be impressed by her clever word choice. Draco did look sort of like a ferret, funny, that, Andrew mused.
"Hermione," Malfoy glared at her as he ground out his warning.
"No! Don't you Hermione me, Draco! I requested that you send my things over nearly five months ago. Crookshanks misses his toys! What on earth would you want my cat's things for?! I've left messages with Ingrid. I've had Blaise, Pansy, and Ginny contact you. I even sent Ron, Theo and Harry over to the apartment but you've managed to keep even them from getting in! Then I resorted to sending howlers!"
Andrew watched Draco outwardly flinch, grimacing at her accusations. He digested the strange word, howlers, then decided to shrug it off as a couple thing. But then she started to say something that didn't quite make any sense, even as an intimacy between lovers.
"It's a wonder that I haven't lowered myself to harass you day and night with a flock of o-"
Andrew watched a curious flicker in Malfoy's gaze which he then darted first at Andrew and then back to Hermione. It must have been a warning of sorts because it stopped her short. She shifted slightly, shot Andrew a look of pure exasperation, then continued her diatribe, "-of... of overnight packages containing bomb threats! But it's likely that even that wouldn't have made a damn difference. So here I am! You can blame yourself for this rude, untimely visit, you bombastic, self-serving git!
It was bizarre to discover Draco sending her a look of admiration when he should have been reacting with something akin to outrage at her name-calling. When Malfoy did not immediately respond to her baiting, Hermione seemed to take that as an invitation to continue.
"You won't take my money to pay for moving fees and I know you have the power to send my things over, Draco. Therefore, if I don't have my things in my flat by this evening there will be hell to pay! And just so we are quite, quite clear," she threw Andrew another look. "Mr. Wright is my business. Not yours!"
With an insouciant quirk of his lips, Andrew added a silent, So there! to punctuate her sentence.
"I beg to differ, Hermione," Malfoy retorted, now standing and waving a sheaf of papers, ones Andrew clearly remembered signing. "As a matter of fact, your Mr. Wright is just as much my business as he is yours!"
With his sights trained on the papers in Draco's hand, Andrew decided it was high time he made himself scarce. Thoroughly disliking the feel of being relegated to the role of rope in their tug-o-war, nor enjoying the roar of Malfoy's rejoinder, Andrew again cleared his throat to interject.
"I see you two have some important things to sort out. Draco, I'll return tomorrow to complete our signing."
Before completely extricating himself from Hermione's grasp, however, Andrew moved his mouth to her ear. From Malfoy's vantage point the action could easily have been misinterpreted as a parting peck on the cheek.
"Seems you owe me one, darling." Andrew's sexy whisper had her senses humming expectantly. "I'm curious to discover the truth behind your name, Hermione. I hope you no longer find yourself aligned with the title of Lawrence's piece, particularly in regards to him," he stopped, motioning his strong chin toward the tense Malfoy who'd turned away from the sight of them. Taking advantage of this Andrew dipped his head once again.
"Come to think of it," he purred, "I rather like the bard's characterization of his Hermione. Now she was a serious beauty. Are you like her? I wonder... and I do believe I'll enjoy discovering whether my instincts about you are correct."
Dazed by the characterization of herself in his presumptuous words, Hermione barely registered Andrew's gentle release of her. He swiftly caught her up in his arms as she nearly stumbled over her wobbly legs. He quickly righted her and placed a friendly buss to her temple before turning to go. She watched him stride confidently toward the door, surprised she'd forgotten herself for a moment when he'd held her in the quiet strength of his saving embrace.
Andrew knew Hermione's heavy breathing would be the death of him if he didn't make his exit within the next few minutes. Never had any female, with so little as a mere meeting of lips, wound him in such an all encompassing spell. With his back to Draco and Hermione, Andrew fought an oncoming, unmanly blush— the very sort he thought he'd long done away when he joined the high flyers, like Draco, in the upper echelons of the business world.
Andrew could barely believe that only minutes ago he'd so completely forgotten his surroundings and not only french kissed, but all-out groped a virtual stranger, albeit a highly beautiful and provocative one, in front of Malfoy, who might still likely be in love with the woman.
And, yet, despite this afternoon's devastating farce that could ruin all his business plans; his sudden bashfulness at his uncharacteristic rogue-like behavior, and even with the new distance he'd placed between Hermione and himself, it took all of Andrew's strength to keep from snatching this woman up to his flat and having his wicked way with her for the remainder of the week... the month?... perhaps even longer?
Lord, have mercy.
As he moved to turn the doorknob and escape the tension-filled air of Malfoy's office, Andrew suddenly realized that after such an improper display, he might not see this particular sorceress again once she came back to her senses. He felt the need to ensure another meeting. Hesitating a moment at the threshold, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to push his luck. Turning back to view the odd couple, he said in a tone that brooked no contest, "I'll see you tonight at eight, Hermione."
Unable to hide a pleased smile at the identical looks of unadulterated surprise, he added, "I expect you to be there, love, sipping your Cafè Americano. I do believe we have some things to sort out as well."
Chapter End Notes:
My apologies in advance to Sir William Shakespeare for my blatant appropriation of the titles of his fine works.
