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She padded across the apartment to the bathroom and shrugged out of her robe. Tossing the camisole over her head, she stepped into the enamel bath and switched the dial on the shower unit to scalding.
Unfortunately, though, she couldn’t quite muster the required indignation because her decision to accept Carter’s offer had had more to do with the intoxicating pheromones he released without even trying—which had caused every one of the synapses in her brain to fuse in unison the second she saw him—than it did with the fabulous opportunity this commission would offer her struggling business.
As the water pounded down, and she soaped her oversensitive breasts with rather more vigour than was entirely necessary, she could almost hear Cassie’s dry Aussie accent saying: ‘I told you endorphins are addictive.’
NINE
Gina dabbed at the sheen of sweat on her brow as she sat in the airy outer office of the Price Paper Mill. A large picture window looked down on the factory floor, where the mill’s mostly recycled paper products were manufactured, giving her a slight flutter of vertigo to go with her nerves.
She gripped her laptop bag as Carter’s young but efficient PA Bella Delmarr smiled benignly at her from behind a neat white desk.
‘Mr Price will be along shortly, Miz Carrington. Would you like some iced tea or a soda while you wait?’
‘No, I’m fine,’ she replied, not sure she’d be able to swallow without choking, given her jumpy stomach. Which was ridiculous. Why was she so apprehensive about seeing him?
She’d done her homework in the last three days, putting together a preliminary package for him to review—which included projections for the different social media platforms, what they could hope to achieve, some blog designs, website analytics and ideas for possible marketing campaigns to enhance the company’s profile. Unfortunately, while doing all that, she’d discovered that the Price family’s paper mill had grown from a virtually bankrupt business when Carter had stepped into the CEO’s shoes after his father’s death into a huge multinational enterprise cleverly cornering the market in the South in recycled products. All of which made Carter’s offer of a commission not just a great opportunity, but easily the best she’d ever had.
She could not afford to mess this up—which meant she could not afford to mess with Carter. And while that was extremely disappointing on a number of levels, by far her biggest concern was getting her libido—and Carter—to cooperate. Because she had a feeling his agenda might not be quite so professional—and saying no to him had never been one of her strong suits.
She smoothed damp palms down the linen trousers she’d worn to ward off the intense humidity—only to have the sweat pop back out onto her top lip as the man himself walked through the adjoining door from his office.
‘Gina, you made it.’
She got out of her chair and shook the hand he offered. The familiar shot of adrenaline raced up her arm at the touch of his cool dry fingers. ‘Yes, I have some projections for you to look at.’ She lifted her laptop.
‘Great, why don’t you leave that with Bella?’ He nodded to his PA. ‘I’ll give you the tour first and then we can take a look.’
She passed the laptop over, disconcerted by the intense cobalt gaze that wandered over her outfit, contradicting the businesslike tone.
‘I hope you’re not too hot.’ He placed a wide palm on the base of her spine, steering her to the stairwell that led to the factory floor. ‘Humidity hit ninety per cent today—which is manageable for a native, but let me know if you’re gonna wilt and we’ll take a break.’
It wasn’t the humidity that was likely to make her wilt, she thought, as his palm rubbed before it dropped away, sending tendrils of heat shooting up her spine through the silk of her blouse.
‘Ninety per cent is more than I’d bargained for,’ she replied as they left the air-conditioned stairwell and hit a wall of heat. It was like walking into a steam room, the wet, humid warmth slapping into them with the force of a wave. ‘When you said hot and sticky, I wasn’t expecting the Seventh Circle of Hell,’ she added, deciding that talking about the weather was probably the safest bet.
He rolled up his shirt sleeves, and she could see the glow of sweat on his brow beneath his hairline. Her mouth dried as she registered the sudden urge to run her tongue across his forehead and lick off the salty beads of moisture. The way she’d done on that hot summer night in Hillbrook.
Down, girl. Remember: businesslike, professional, focused, at all times. You’re not going to screw up your big break for an endorphin fix. This is your new leaf talking.
His sensual lips curved into an easy smile that had ‘focused’ falling by the wayside straight away. ‘Ninety per cent is nothing,’ he said in that lazy Southern drawl that never failed to reverberate in her abdomen. ‘Forecast is for it to get a whole lot hotter over the next couple of weeks.’ The wicked glint in those heavy-lidded eyes made it fairly obvious this was not a conversation about the weather any more. ‘You think you can handle the heat?’
‘Absolutely,’ she lied.
* * *
The rest of the afternoon passed in a haze of information as he showed her round the whole operation, displaying a hands-on knowledge of the production process—and his employees—that surprised and intrigued her.
From the little Marnie had let slip about her brother and what Gina had discovered on the Internet, she’d assumed Carter Price CEO would be as dominant and cynical as Carter Price Lover Man.
But after taking the tour of his factory, she’d discovered the sheep in wolf’s clothing.
She’d thought he would focus on the big picture, the business side of his business—and leave the nitty-gritty of production and supply to his minions. And she hadn’t expected him to know every one of his employees by their first names—right down to the pimply faced teenager who swept the loading bay. Or to know enough about their lives to ask after new babies, or recent marriages, or Great-Aunt Merilou’s bursitis. But Carter Price had known about all of those things, chatting in a relaxed, comfortable way that suggested these people weren’t his minions, they were his friends. And it was also obvious they all felt the same way about Carter—talking to him with easy smiles on their faces and affection as well as admiration in their eyes.
Of course, the mill was an essential part of the local economy and Carter had saved it from going under, so it was no surprise his employees were grateful to him. But she sensed something more going on, a sort of proprietary interest, almost as if these people had the status of family as well as friends, which explained the reserved Southern manners and considered glances she’d received when he introduced her—as if they were sizing her up. She dismissed the p
rickle of unease, remembering that she was a professional, here on professional business, even if he did insist on touching her arm and smiling confidentially at her, in front of his ‘people’.
But despite her best intentions, by the time they had settled into Carter’s low-riding convertible and were bombing along a country road flanked by the ubiquitous kudzu vines that swallowed most of the landscape en route to Savannah, Gina had to admit she was feeling more than a little dazed trying to assimilate everything she’d learned.
