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He smiled. “My legal people say otherwise, Angelica.”
She stiffened. “What did you call me?”
“Angelica. That is your name, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but…” But what? Why should the sound of her own name so surprise her?
Maybe it was because it was months since anyone had used it. The men who worked for her had flatly refused.
“We couldn’t do that, ma’am,” they’d said.
But she couldn’t let them call her Miss Gordon. The male-female barrier was artificial and counterproductive. Every book that dealt with the psychology of leadership made that clear.
Eventually, one brave soul had addressed her as A.H. The nickname had stuck. Emily had adopted it and Angelica had even come to think of herself that way. Now, to hear her name on Cade’s lips…
Wasn’t there some pagan superstition that said you were in jeopardy if the enemy learned your name?
“Well? Is Angelica your name, or isn’t it?”
Angelica looked at Cade. Stop being dumb, she told herself sharply, and she nodded.
“It is.”
“Good. At least we agree on something.”
Cade rose and began walking around the cramped office. He frowned at the stack of mail on Angelica’s desk, ran his finger over the computer printouts that hung like torn wallpaper from the printer in the corner, finally paused beside a bank of file cabinets. He peered at the labeled drawers, then pulled one open.
“Where do you keep your current inventory listing?”
Angelica’s chair squealed in protest as she shoved it back.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Is this it?” he said, taking a folder from the drawer.
She snatched it. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing—”
“Not me, sugar. I’ve been on the up and up since I walked in here yesterday.”
He reached past her and took out another folder, but Angelica grabbed it from him, too.
“Cade,” she said through her teeth, “I have a busy schedule this morning, and—”
“You don’t have any kind of schedule this morning.”
“That’s nonsense! Did Emily tell you that? Because if she did—”
“She didn’t have to. I looked at your appointment calendar.”
Color flamed in Angelica’s face. She turned, slapped the file folders on her desk, then put her hands on her hips.
“You have two minutes to walk out that door,” she said coldly. “After that, I’ll call the police and tell them you’re trespassing.” Her smile was quick and chill. “And—before you ask—the phone lines are working today.”
Cade wanted to laugh, but the woman looked as if she’d slug him if he did. And then he’d be in real trouble, because he knew he’d retaliate by picking her up, turning her over his knee and giving her the paddling she so roundly deserved.
Besides, Grant had warned him. Be cool, be subtle and find out what you can.
He took a deep breath. “Look, I didn’t come here to quarrel. I came for information. You made a statement yesterday, and—”
“And you want proof.’’
His eyes narrowed. She sounded so composed. Was there proof? Had two crazy old men hacked out a memorandum that would give Landon’s legal department ulcers for the millennium?
“Yes,” he said, his eyes never leaving her face, “I do.”
Angelica nodded. She turned, walked around her desk and sat down.
“My father and yours had a verbal agreement.”
Cade gave her a tight smile. Landon’s legal eagles might still end up with ulcers, but at least he’d been prepared for this.
“Really,” he said, his face expressionless. He watched her for a long moment but she didn’t stir or even blink. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why would my father have agreed to such a foolish restriction?”
Angelica bit her lip. Why, indeed? It was a good question, an excellent question. Sooner or later, she’d have to come up with an answer. For the time being, all she could do was bluff.
“I’ve no idea,” she said politely. “But then, figuring out your father’s motives isn’t my problem.”
A muscle knotted in Cade’s jaw. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
Angelica permitted herself a small, self-satisfied smile. “I don’t have to do anything,” she said, leaning back in her chair.
“No?”
“No. If you decide to contest my right to remain in charge of this company—”
“If I decide to contest it?”
Cade’s voice sounded soft, almost silken; only later would she realize that it was neither, that it was, instead, dark with menace.
“Why, yes,” she said, almost pleasantly. “If you should choose to contest my right—”
Cade came around the desk so fast that all she could do was gasp. He bent to her, clasped her by the shoulders and hauled her to her feet.
“This is my company, and don’t you forget it. As for your story that there was some kind of verbal agreement…” He smiled coldly. “Hell, sugar, that doesn’t mean a damn. It’s nothing but a bold-faced lie!”
Angelica stared at him, fire blazing in her eyes. “I refuse to dignify that remark with an answer!”
“What’s the matter, sugar? Afraid of the truth?”
“Don’t call me that!”
“Don’t call you what?”
“Sugar,” she said with ice in her voice.
His smile was taut and mirthless. “Why not? Does it offend your lamebrain feminist agenda?”
“Listen here, you—you bully—”
“Me? A bully?” Cade laughed, but his eyes were chill. “Hell, I think I’ve been more than civil, all things considered.”
“Goodbye, Cade. We have nothing more to say to each other.”
His hands tightened on her, until she could feel the press of each finger.
“You know what I think? I think you’d label any man who stood up to you a bully.”
Angelica laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding! You come strutting into my office as if you were some—some jackbooted storm trooper and order me out as if I were just a poor little female and then you get annoyed when I call you what you are?” She tossed her head. “What’s the problem, Cade? Don’t you know what to do with a woman like me?”
It was a stupid thing to have said, she knew that as soon as she’d said it, but it was too late. Cade laughed and his arms went around her.
“Hell,” he said, “I know exactly what to do with a woman like you.”
She cried out as his mouth dropped to hers. Her hands came up in defence and fisted against his chest but he only drew her closer.
“Stop it,” she said fiercely, twisting her face from his, “stop it, do you hear me? The only thing you’re proving is that I’m right, that you are a bully—”
His mouth covered hers again as he spun her around and trapped her against the desk. His hands went into her hair, pulling out the rubber band that held it at her nape, and coppery curls spilled into his waiting fingers.
Cade twisted the strands around his hand and kissed her harder.
Angelica began to tremble. She wanted to push him from her, to hit him and tell him he was everything she despised…
Oh, but the feel of his mouth on hers! The feel of that hard, powerful body, the thought of the callused hands on her soft, expectant flesh, the honeyed surrender that would be possible with a man like him…
Cade took her face in his hands. “Open your mouth,” he said, in a voice thick with passion. “Let me taste you.”
Liquid heat shot through her blood. With a soft whimper of mindless submission, she gave him her mouth, parting her lips to the thrust of his tongue, letting him fill her with his taste. Her hands opened; she spread them over his chest, curling her fingers into his shirt, measuring his thundering heartbeat.
Cade drew her jacket from her
shoulders, trapping her within its soft folds. He bent his head and pressed his lips to her throat while he whispered her name, and then his hands moved lightly over her sweater and cupped her breasts. Angelica gave a startled cry as she felt his hands on her. Blindly, she moved closer to him, her nipples tightening and budding against his seeking palms, her body aching for the hardness of his arousal…
The door slammed open. “A.H.,” Emily said, “I really am sorry to bother you and Mr. Landon, but—”
Time stood still. Angelica caught a glimpse of her secretary’s frozen face, and then Cade swung toward the door, blocking Angelica from view.
“Yes?” he said, so calmly she knew, without question, that everything that had just happened had been a deliberate, cold-blooded reminder of exactly who held the power here.
