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“And? Personally, what do you think?”
“My opinion of you is purely professional. You’re my client. I don’t think it’s worth our time diving into what I personally think of you,” she told me.
“But I’m asking.”
Her lips pursed, and I braced myself, settling back against the flush leather of my chair. “From what I’ve seen and read, you are a philandering playboy raised with a silver spoon in his mouth who avoids hard work like the plague and prefers to spend his evenings with women who have to sign an NDA to sleep with him and friends who would sooner gossip about him than protect him. Which makes me judge not only his taste in women and events, but his taste in friendship and hobbies.”
Damn.
The girl had done her research. At least the research thatThe Peerhad provided for her courtesy of an easy online search. I was all those things. Probably more than I wanted to admit. But in my entire life, only one other person had ever attempted to call me out as hard as this woman just had.
I liked it.
Too much probably.
“Well, for someone who claims to not have a personal opinion, that seems awfully personal. And opinionated.” I almost laughed at the horrified expression that slipped over her face.
“Mr. Macklen, I’m sorry. I—” she stuttered, flushing a pretty shade of pink.
“First rule in business. Never apologize.”
***
Ashlyn
I had practiced that presentation a hundred times this week. I knew every line, every statistic, every powerful point I was going to drive home when I secured Liam Macklen as our first Leden Co. client. Which was good because standing there, watching him lounge against his desk, those incredible eyes curious and sharp, did insane things to my stomach. Maybe I had misjudged him. Or perhaps I should’ve skipped breakfast.
For all that we’d gotten off on the wrong foot, he’d been responsive and courteous during my entire speech.
But now was the important part. I needed Macklen and his connections to get this project off the ground. I knew we didn't have all the details, but I also knew for a fact that a project like this would never survives without some muscle.
And one thing Liam Macklen had was muscle—powerful, long, lean ones that continued to torture me as he followed my careful directions. I swallowed, my throat a touch too dry. As if sensing the change in direction of my thoughts, Liam straightened, wandering behind his desk with a prowling ease before plunking down in his desk chair and smiling at me.
Oh man. He was good. That smile must get tongues wagging and panties dropping all over this city. I clenched my stomach ignoring the twist of heat.
He pushed back on the high-backed chair, his leg crossing casually as I stacked up the heavy pile of completed documents. “That wasn’t too painful.”
“What do you mean?” I prompted him again.
“You’ve got what you need. It mentions in the contract that you’ll send me weekly to-dos. Which means, for now, I believe our business has concluded.”
I stared. Oh, he was far, far from correct there. I was going to be on him like bees to honey until we walked into that shareholders’ meetings and blew them all away with his wholesome goodness.
“I think you’ve missed something. I’m not going anywhere, not for a long time. Leden hired me to make sure you are following through with each and every one of our requests. That means that in addition to weekly action items, you get me, all the time. Remember that twenty-four-seven part of the speech earlier?”
His face twitched. Heat flooded my cheeks at my unfortunate wording but pushed on.
“I will be your most called, most texted, most emailed individual for the next three weeks. You’re my client and therefore my top priority.” I glance over at enormous wall clock on the wall. “I know you are short on time. If you have any questions, I’m more than happy to meet in person, over dinner, and chat about the details.”
Oh my God. Why had that sounded like I was asking him out to dinner? I had planned to say it, of course, but at home, standing in front of my dingy bathroom mirror, it sounded professional, aloof even. Now it sounded like I was just another thirsty girl, wondering exactly how many abs he was hiding under that suit. My cheeks heated to approximately two hundred degrees as Liam’s face turned with a smirk, that dimple appearing as he carefully looked me over.
Note to self. Do not offer dinner to a man who looks at you like you are dessert. At least not this man.
“Sounds…” Liam paused. I could see where his teeth rolled his lower lip. “…intriguing. I will be in touch, Ms. Grove.” He stood slowly, and my gaze was immediately drawn to the perfectly cut lines of his suit and to the drool-worthy body that filled it out.
“Thank you for your time. My information is on my card and several of our forms.” I turned and fled, the toes of my heels scuffing lightly against the floor as I threw myself through the heavy double doors.
Panting, I stepped into the little alcove I’d begun in. I pushed a hand to my face, suddenly aware that I’d not grabbed my bag or phone when I’d dashed out. Blinking at the drop in tension. My hands suddenly felt too empty. Cursing under my breath, I turned right as Liam opened his doors once more, his hands gripping the long handles of my work bag.
