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She knew he’d meant the gift sincerely and was making sure he saw that it was getting good use, and brought it to all their meetings. He was sitting on the couch, his coat off, his sleeves rolled up, with a drink in his hand. They’d already put in a long day meeting with people who might play a role in building the business center if Julio got the contract. She’d badgered others to submit written reports, and now she had those in her briefcase. She’d dressed carefully in a silk blouse that flattered her breasts, a short skirt, and heels.
Julio looked up, seeing her and showing her a sad face that betrayed just a hint of curiosity.
Seeing him that way made her heart skip a beat. She knew he was still mooning about that bitch of an economist. Even after all this time he wouldn’t let go of the stupid idea that somehow they’d be together again. She set her jaw. It was time to kill that once and for all.
“What’s going on?” he asked. “You look awfully businesslike for so late in what has been a long day.”
“Businesslike?”
He grinned. “Sexy, but still businesslike.”
She savored the flattery. Looking sexy had been her intention. Julio always acted the gentleman with women he worked with. Willa assumed that was why he hadn’t bedded Elaine. She often worked long hours with him herself, and while he might flirt, he generally maintained a professional relationship. The after-hours nature of her visit caught him off guard. Normally if they worked late it was because he was engrossed in some project.
“I know we are supposed to be done for the day… All those damn meetings take their toll. We still have a lot of work that needs doing. I got some more proposals from potential subcontractors. I’ve tossed out the ones that didn’t offer any new ideas, and just sent their standard rate sheets and other garbage, but that left a few that made an effort, and I thought we might go over them.”
“It’s odd that they are the minority,” he said. “You’d think there wasn’t a recession and there was plenty of work to go around. This is a juicy project.”
“At any rate, I saw the look on your face at the end of the last meeting, and rather than letting you sit around feeling sad, I thought we might as well go through some of them.” She sat beside him, letting her leg brush against his and putting the briefcase on the coffee table.
As she opened the case, Julio glanced at the folders and sighed, then held up his glass. “You get things started while I finish my drink.”
“Of course.” She brought out a folder and opened it on the coffee table. “These are from the usual vendors, your preferred list, for their ideas on the landscaping, some exterior touches… most important, though, is the hybrid power-cogeneration system. The European Union should give you big environmental points for that.”
Julio sipped his drink and picked up some of the pages. “You’d think so,” he said. He finished the drink and let himself become absorbed in the proposed power system, reading the textual analysis but referring to the tables and graphs. “Yes, yes.” Then he began going back and forth through the pages. He pointed at several tables with a pen he took from his pocket, circling some numbers. “Paper,” he said, and she tore a page from her notebook and handed it to him.
He scribbled furiously, doing math, writing in the margins of the pages of the report. This was the Julio she wanted to see, the dynamic man who had the insights and energy to steamroller any other proposals. He had an amazing way of making a comprehensive analysis, and his instincts for choosing the right combination of things seemed unerring. The committee in Milan wanted something exceptional for their business center, and that required an exceptional man. A man like Julio Torres.
Willa watched him work, pleased that she could harness his genius, and delighted that she’d managed to sidetrack that American harpy. Now Willa was ready to step up her game. Being Julio’s good right hand gave her a great deal of power, but she wanted more.
Julio shook his head and tossed the folder down. “This won’t do.”
She looked at the folder. “No?”
“It’s crap. They are selling the right buzzwords, but it isn’t promising or even new technology. We can do better.” She watched him juggling possibilities in his head. “Remember that Finnish company we worked with last year?”
“On the military project?”
“Right. Contact them and ask them for their proposal. No, never mind. See that the contact information is on my desk in the morning and I’ll call them myself. I’ll be able to explain some of the engineering details so there are no missteps. They were working on something new that might be applicable. If it is, we can offer Milan something that will be cutting edge for a few years to come. We can’t avoid obsolescence, but we can extend the lifespan of the center out there until they can recoup the investment.”
The light had come back into his eyes. He picked up another folder, and she heard the excitement that crept into his voice as he reviewed, amended, and discarded the various proposals while Willa sat taking notes. He was in his element.
“Excellent,” she said when he’d finished with the last folder. She leaned forward and began collecting them, putting them in the briefcase along with her notepad. “That’s plenty for this evening.”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s still early. And now I’m wound up. Would you have a drink with me, Willa?”
Before she answered, she carefully closed up her briefcase, taking a moment. It never paid to seem too eager. Then she sat back on the couch, putting the briefcase on the floor, then crossing her legs and letting her short skirt ride up her thighs. She watched his eyes, saw that he was looking at her legs with interest. “I’d love one.”
She watched him go to the wet bar, and his manner, the atmosphere in the room, told her she had an opportunity that might not come again soon. She sensed a vulnerability in him, a need to unburden himself. He came back with two drinks and sat beside her. When he handed her the drink, she put her hand around his and looked into his eyes. She had trouble reading the thoughts behind those eyes, so she did the next best thing—she willed him to see her thoughts. She let herself imagine him making love to her, and let her eyes cloud over with desire as she wetted her lips with her tongue, making it seem casual, unconscious, and sexy.
After a brief moment he put both drinks on the coffee table, then turned towards her. His eyes didn’t betray him, but she saw the welcome signs of lust in his face, a slight flush of his cheeks. Those subtle signs were her cue. She’d waited and planned for this since the day she started to work for him. Years of earning his trust, making him comfortable with her, and now she was ready to do whatever it took to cement their relationship.
And she told him that, clearly, with her eyes.
# # #
Julio was a careful man, but Willa had seen him being passionate. Now she needed to unleash that passion and direct it at her. She reached her hand up to his face and touched his cheek lovingly while she read his face. She could be as careful and patient as necessary. It was important not to overplay her hand; she couldn’t risk him rejecting her. That was the only danger in her strategy.
What she saw in his face now told her that he was vulnerable; she had aroused him almost to the point where there was no turning back, not for Julio, not for any man. Desire took men to a tipping point where reason stopped working. To coax him past it, she held still, watching his eyes, keeping hers soft, compliant, hungry. She wanted him to make the next move, to make a commitment.
He did, and when he touched her, putting his hands on her shoulders, she opened her mouth, inviting his kiss. When he bent down and kissed her, more with desire than passion, she was elated. That was exactly what she wanted. Getting a man to love you could be useful; making him desire you was far better. Love could be unpredictable; desire was far more reliable. Now she was directing the thwarted desire he felt for Lissa towards her, to accomplish her ends.
To ensure that he was unable to stop, she let her hand trail over his leg and touched the bulge of his
cock, moving deliberately so that he’d know it was no accident. His breathing told her how badly he needed her, needed a warm woman at least, right then. And she was happy to let him have her; she wanted to be the woman he turned to.
He showered her neck with warm, wet kisses as his fingers undid her silk blouse. She seldom wore a bra, and fortunately hadn’t this time, and his fingers caressed the soft skin of her breasts, teased her nipples hard. She arched her back and ran her fingers through his hair, encouraging him.
When he slipped the blouse off her and turned his attention to removing her skirt and panties, she writhed and gasped at his touch, happy that he was taking the initiative of undressing her. This kind of man would want to strip his woman naked, be in charge.
For her part, she focused on him, responding to his every touch with sounds and starts of her body. The slightest caress or brush of his hand deserved acknowledgement. When she was naked on his couch, his hands continued casually mapping her body, tracing the soft mounds of her breasts and teasing her nipples erect, then ran down over her belly. They covered the curve of her hips and ass and then her thighs. She gave a slight jump when he pressed his strong fingers into her moist cunt.
