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“We’re pretty lean, actually. We work hard. Most of my employees have been with me for a long time, and they feel some ownership, I think. They’re loyal.” She didn’t miss the flash of hurt in his eyes before he recovered. “Or so I thought. Anyway, the point is we get a lot done pretty efficiently.”
“And, wow, you get it done in style. These are some mighty fine digs,” she said, wanting to take his mind off his troubles, even if only for a moment.
“Thanks.” He pointed around the corner. “And there’s me.”
She led the way. And then she stopped in her tracks, letting loose a low whistle as the door opened onto his office.
Two of the walls were windows, and he had a breathtaking view of the towers of the financial district on one side and the blue expanse of Lake Ontario on the other.
“It is kind of nice, isn’t it?” He looked like a little kid showing her something he’d made.
Turning her attention to the office itself, she did a slow rotation, taking in the massive antique mahogany desk, a sitting area furnished with a decadent looking sofa and a pair of armchairs upholstered in a lush, vibrant orange. It looked like a masculine version of her apartment. Except for the fact that… “My whole apartment would fit in here two times over,” she declared.
“Yep,” he agreed cheerfully, but not unkindly. “And there’s an elevator,” he teased.
She sighed, walking toward one of the window-walls for a moment to compose herself. It was like being Cinderella at the ball, she felt so out of her element. Except no, she told herself. All Cinderella had going for her was the prospect of hitching her wagon to some dude. Cassie, on the other hand, had been hired to do a job. A fifty thousand dollar job.
She turned. “Let’s get to work.”
…
Jack watched Cassie take in the view. She was a brilliant blot of scarlet against the gray buildings and white sky of the December afternoon. Damn. Was he a complete idiot? Jack had rules, yes, but he was not generally in the habit of rebuffing the advances of scorchingly hot women.
She was right, technically. There was nothing inappropriate about the dress—she was covered from neck to toe. And yet…
In fact, he thought, trying to compose himself, it looked not unlike something Amy would wear. The difference was the stylish vice-president of Winter Enterprises would have worn the dress in black or gray. Not this ridiculous blazing scarlet.
For the first time in a long time, Jack was facing a situation he honestly didn’t know how to play. Part of him—including the part of him currently straining against the fly of his jeans—wanted nothing more than to rewind, go back, and make good on his threat to bend her over the reception desk. But he’d already been intimate with her, and he tried to keep a cap on the number of encounters he had with any single woman. He was serious about not doing relationships. Dead serious. They distracted him from what was important—work. Limiting himself to one-night stands was a defense mechanism he consciously and cheerfully deployed. He had a lot to protect. Not a heart, no—at least not that kind of heart—but a man didn’t build a company from nothing into the powerhouse that was Winter Enterprises without subjecting himself to a little discipline.
So the fact that he was contemplating another round with Cassie was, frankly, a little concerning. As his eyes slid over those wicked red curves, a thought dawned. In one sense, he hadn’t actually been with Cassie at all. He’d left their first kiss with the worst case of blue balls in the history of the universe, and at their second encounter, he’d spent himself in the snow like an untried boy.
She turned from the window with a spark in her eyes that seemed to simultaneously ignite in his chest. If he could just be inside her once—bend the rules a little—then maybe he could get this all-consuming lust under control enough to get some damned work done.
“Let’s get to work,” she said.
Well, so much for that idea.
The mischief was gone from her eyes, replaced with a look of pure determination. If she had sleeves, she’d be rolling them up right now. “I want to see your books. And please tell me everything isn’t password protected on Carl’s computer.”
“I may be an idiot when it comes to numbers, but I’m not that stupid. Crossing to his desk, he powered up his MacBook, silently ordering himself to get it together.
“You’re not an idiot,” she said.
Instead of answering, he picked up a remote control and aimed it at the built-in cabinetry. A door retracted to reveal a flat screen TV.
“Fancy!” exclaimed Cassie.
“Where do you want to start?” he asked, opening some documents on his computer. “How about the current quarter’s balance sheet?” With a few keystrokes he had the document up on the screen.
