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"Sit," Elliott said, gesturing toward a chair. He liked the way her hair looked braided heavily to one side. He liked it even better knowing the reason she had it that way was because of the marks he had left there from his lips and teeth and stubble.
She was carrying herself straighter than usual. There was a coldness there that he knew she was trying to wear as a front. She sat down slowly, wincing, and he felt a surge of primal male pride.
A beat or two must have passed as he looked at her because one of her dark eyebrows arched haughtily. He felt a chuckle starting and stifled it. But he couldn't quite hide the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips. "So I'm sure you remember Bob Tanner from the event at my house..."
Hannah felt a sick feeling rise in her throat as it all fell into place. "Bob who is into construction," she responded quietly. Bob the sleaze ball was Bob Tanner or Tanner Construction.
"Well, you've been corresponding with him for weeks over some issues with the deal we made a few months ago for me to take over his company. Hence why I needed the copies of the emails today. He's claiming incompetence and wants a meeting with me, James, and you."
Oh, God.
"Needless to say," Elliott said, holding a hand up, "that is not going to happen. I looked over everything and you handled it all the way I would have told you to. He's angry because he won't own the lion's share of his company anymore and wants to get it all overturned on a technicality claiming I had you handle the deal without proper supervision or knowledge of the topic."
Hannah sank into her seat. Oh, no. Maybe she should have consulted him, but she had been too busy trying to ignore him because he made her feel so uncomfortable that she just dealt with it all herself based on information in the file. Had she actually screwed up a multi-million dollar deal?
"Hey," Elliott's voice broke in, soft and close. She looked up to find that he had gotten up to the front of his desk. Her knees brushed his slacks. "I can see those gears turning. This won't hold up. I just wanted to fill you in. And I want to make sure all of the future correspondence goes through me- just to leave you out of it."
"Okay," Hannah said, her eyes focused on his jaw line so she didn't have to look him in the eye. But then he leaned forward toward her and she glanced up worriedly.
"He's just mad. It will blow over."
Hannah looked up at him and nodded then watched as his hand left his side and moved toward her hair where he gently grabbed her braid and moved it to the side. A rare smile lit up his face. She felt his cool fingertips rub across the sensitive, inflamed skin.
"I must say, you've covered it up quite well. But we both know what is under all that makeup." Elliott watched as her eyes went round and her cheeks turned pink. A low, appreciative chuckle escaped him as he ran his fingertips toward her jaw. "Hannah..."
Three loud knocks interrupted him and Hannah jumped visibly away. Elliott sighed.
"Mr. Michaels," Sally's shrill voice sounded from outside.
"Yes, Sally, come in," Elliott said, moving toward his chair.
Sally walked in , dressed in a severe black suit and holding a clipboard against her chest. "Mr. Black is here, sir." She didn't wait for a response, simply waved the man into the room and left without another word.
Mr. Black was dissimilar to Elliott in every way but one- they were both unusually tall. Where Elliott was dark-haired and bright-eyed, Mr. Black had Midwestern cornsilk blond hair much too long to seem professional and had big deep brown eyes that reminded her of a deer. His face was fuller, his jawbone wide and strong. His blue suit fell nicely over his wide chest and shoulders.
Hannah sat there watching the two men greet each other warmly and exchanging pleasantries. Mr. Black smiled easily, reminding her of James. When his gaze fell on her, Elliott's smile faded a bit. It would have been unnoticeable by anyone who wasn't acutely aware of his facial expressions.
"Tate Black, this is Hannah Clary, my assistant. Hannah this is Tate, my attorney."
Tate walked over, his smile creasing the skin deep into his cheeks and revealing disarmingly charming dimples and perfect teeth. "Hannah, nice to meet you."
Hannah stood and shook the hand he extended to her, her lips falling into a smile to match his.
"Oh, geez. I hope you're not here to get Mr. Michael's out of the trouble I have apparently gotten him into."
"Oh, I'm sure that isn't what happened," Tate said, finally releasing her hand from his broad, warm one full of callouses.
"It's not," Elliott's voice broke in, clipped and authoritative. "Hannah..." he said, looking pointedly toward the door.
Although he was always brash and grating, something about being dismissed bothered her more than it should have. With startling clarity, she realized it was because they had slept together. And that was entirely unacceptable. She needed to act and feel as though nothing had happened.
"Right, well, I have work to do. It was nice to meet you Mr. Black," she said, walking out and closing the door before he even responded.
She needed to pull herself together. Plenty of women had sex with people they saw every day and managed to act like nothing happened. They certainly didn't get their heckles up when said person behaved toward them the way they always had. She would have to learn to act that way.
Even though just five minutes before, he had been touching her neck and filling her mind with images or memories until she was turned on fully just by the thought of him.
Elliott didn't know why he had been so short with her. Maybe a part of him didn't want Hannah getting to know Tate. He never seemed to have trouble landing women with his all-American looks. And Elliott knew he was an all around good, stand-up guy. But it bothered him. And it was a new sensation. He'd never been a jealous man and he certainly never got emotionally invested. But he wasn't keen on the idea of sharing Hannah. She was... his.
