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And there he was. Larger-than-life as he sat at the end of the conference table, his broad shoulders clad in a charcoal-gray suit that simultaneously seemed tailor-made for him and yet barely contained the muscles that rippled beneath the wool. He leaned back in his chair, one hand on the table, the other hanging casually at his side.
But she knew better. Her heartbeat quickened until it was pounding so wildly in her chest she couldn’t believe the sound didn’t rise above the near shouting. She saw the sharp edge in his gaze, the restrained temper in the cords of muscle in his neck.
Her eyes flicked to the still-arguing man with thick black hair and artificially golden skin. A man, she decided, who didn’t notice details, like when he was in the crosshairs of a much more powerful predator.
Damon’s gaze slid to hers. Did she imagine the flare of surprise, the slip of control? She blinked, and all she saw was the calm mask he’d worn when he’d dismissed her on the dance floor. Cool, competent and unapproachable.
The initial stab of hurt at seeing how unaffected he was disappeared, replaced by questions like why he had given a false name. Was it something as simple as a nickname? Or something more scheming?
Resolution and determination took hold. It didn’t matter. He’d had his reasons, and they were none of her concern. She turned her back on him and walked to the chair. She couldn’t work for the man she’d so shamelessly kissed in Central Park. But she was still a professional. She would finish the meeting, take notes and then speak with him afterward to formally resign. Her nose wrinkled at the thought of calling her agency. She’d worked for them long enough, and certainly earned them enough money, that they would be kind. But she’d never walked away from a job before. She would owe them an explanation.
Because I wrapped myself around the CEO of Bradford Global like a python as he kissed me senseless?
She bit back a snort of laughter. The humor wiped away the last traces of shock and cemented her control over the moment. She removed her coat with quick, methodical movements, took the tablet out of the folio and sat.
Damon’s attention was still focused on the man with the artificial tan. She took one last look, allowed herself one more indulgence of remembering the way his fingers had grazed her cheek, the way he’d held her as if he couldn’t get enough of her...and then slipped into her role as Evolet Grey, temporary executive assistant to the CEO of Bradford Global, as she banished her feelings for the man she’d kissed in the rain.
CHAPTER FIVE
ITHAD,Damon decided as he walked down the hall toward his office with Evie or Evolet or whatever she called herself walking behind him, been the longest meeting of his life. Given the number of meetings he’d sat through, that was saying something. The more Thad Williams from Titan Manufacturing had argued, the more Damon had entertained fantasies of having security summoned to haul the man out by his designer paisley tie.
Better to indulge in that fantasy than ones centering on the woman who’d sat calmly in the back of the conference room throughout the entire circus.
Evolet Grey, his temporary executive assistant for the next two months.
He had barely survived one meeting. How could he survive eight weeks with her in his building, his meetings,his office?
When he had looked up to see her standing in the doorway, staring at him as if she’d seen a ghost, he’d pressed his feet into the floor to mentally anchor himself so he didn’t go to her. Never had the sight of a woman with her hair bound at the base of her neck and a billowing trench coat aroused him so much.
Never, either, had the sight of a woman distracted him from a meeting. That thought had been enough to pull him back from his memories of Friday night to focus on the people seated around the table. It was also enough for him to know that, once they reached his office, he would need to dismiss her.
He pushed the door open, the feel of the cool leather a sharp contrast to how hot he felt. Good God, he hadkissedthe woman. A simple kiss that had slid like a drug through his veins and left him wanting as he’d never wanted before.
“Come in,” he said over his shoulder when he didn’t hear her follow him in. “And shut the door.” His eyebrows rose as he heard her mumble something. He circled around his desk. “What was that?”
She looked at him then. How had he thought her cool and reserved at the fundraiser? He must have been blind because now that he saw the banked temper simmering in her eyes, he couldn’t see her as anything but fire and passion seething beneath the surface.
“I said, ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea, sir?’”
A shudder passed through him at her proper tone, the primness failing to cover the underlying sass.
“Why wouldn’t it be? We’re both professionals. Unless,” he added with a mocking smile, “you’re concerned you won’t be able to control yourself.”
A flush crept up her neck and over her cheeks. Her eyes glittered as her lips thinned. He returned her stare, keeping his face smooth even as his eyes devoured the sight of her. Her bun was still perfect, every hair smoothed into place. It didn’t erase the memory of the golden strands wound between his fingers as he had claimed everything she had offered with a ruthless need that had only grown after she’d fled into the storm.
Now, with her standing before him, dressed in a billowing white blouse with a prim tie at her throat and black pants, the perfect professional, his need was almost ferocious.
All the more reason to dismiss her. She would be a distraction, one he couldn’t afford right now. That and he didn’t care for the strength of his fascination. He had no doubt that sex with Evolet Grey would be one of the most pleasurable experiences of his life. But he also suspected that it would involve giving more than he had ever given before to another woman. Giving meant surrendering control.
No infatuation would ever take precedent over staying in control.
He gestured for her to take a seat, waiting until she sat before he sat behind his desk. “I’m glad to see you made it home safe.”
“Thank you,” she replied stiffly. She glanced around the office. “Not bad for Edward Bradford, the CEO of Bradford Global. Or is it Damon? I wasn’t aware CEOs used aliases these days.”
Irritated, he leaned forward and steepled his fingers. “Thank you,Evie.”
She had the good grace to flush. “It is my name,” she said defiantly, and damned if that pert tone didn’t make him hard.
