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He closed his eyes and imagined his tongue plunging into her mouth, her slender legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her. Hissing out a breath, he opened his eyes and swallowed the drink to try and quell the rising desire.
He had never had a woman inside his office, but he was prepared to make an exception. He would move fast and hoped that she would be amenable to what he wanted when he was through with his offer.
Tossing back the rest of the drink, he strode to his desk to sit behind it. He had contracts to review, and tomorrow was a hectic day. Besides, he wanted to get through everything to free up the evening.
He would put the international book fairs back on the table and cut the advertising budget in half.
He was trying to tell himself that I was purely business, but it was no use lying - he would offer her something and hope to get something else in return. It was that simple or that damned complicated. Pulling the contract towards him, he blocked everything else and concentrated on work.
Chapter 8
Delores was nervous. Throughout the day, she wondered why he wanted to meet her. She should have insisted on being given an idea as if that would have worked, she thought, shaking her head. So, she busied herself with work. Andrea Gayle had decided to sign with them.
Delores felt she had been persuaded to do so when Jerri hinted that she would be doing a book with the publishing house. She owed Jerri for that. Two huge projects, along with the others they were dealing with, would surely put them in the black and get Deacon Manchester's stamp of approval.
It so happens that the man was damn difficult to please. She took the proposals with her to show him they were working to ensure he was not wasting his money.
She was not privy to the financial agreement or how much he had bought, but it was enough for him to march in and take over. She had heard the rumors that the board, or most of them, would be retiring. No doubt that was his doing.
His acquisition teams were still coming around, but she could ignore them if they did not interfere with her department. One of them, a slick-looking one named Trevor, had tried to put the moves on her, but she had turned him down flat.
She had no intention of getting involved with someone attached to Manchester. Besides, the man was not her type. He was too confident of his ability to charm women, and she was too intelligent and sure to fall for his lines.
Now it was time, and she could feel the nerves skittering along her flesh. He had told her she still had a job, which was something to be grateful for. She had not said anything to Jerry about the meeting, and if Deacon had mentioned it to him, she knew Jerry would have confronted him.
She glanced at her watch and realized she had half an hour to navigate peak hour traffic to get to the uptown area where his corporate office was. Mariel and the others had left for the day, and only a few were finishing some projects. Shrugging into her light jacket, she picked up her briefcase and headed out.
*****
For the first time in a long time, Deacon was nervous. He had managed to put this evening behind him as he met with the board and the finance department and had several meetings out of office. He had been run off his feet with his various duties, and it was not difficult for him to put it behind him.
But now the hour was near; he could not help the nerves dancing up and down his spine. He was going into negotiation, and this was boggy ground. Usually, he was confident when it came to that sort of thing.
He did not negotiate with the women he took to bed. If he was attracted and she was unmarried, he would offer, and they would say yes.
Initially, he would lay down the ground rules - no sleepovers or declaration of love. He did not want to hear the words - where the relationship was going - if that were uttered, it would be over. He had been played for a fool years ago and would not have a repeat performance.
He was wiser and more cynical now, but he was entering into uncertain territory. He had never propositioned a woman who technically worked for him before, and even though he had tried to talk himself out of it, his treacherous body would not let him.
He wanted her. And it was bothersome that he had never wanted anyone this much. He had to have her. The explosion of desire he was feeling was perplexing to him, and hopefully, it would be assuaged when he took her to bed a couple of times.
She was a beautiful woman and appeared to be unattached. They were going to be sophisticated about it, of course. He would tell her the rules upfront, and if she agreed, they go on to the next step.
And if she turns you down? The voice whispered inside his head. And he realized, to his surprise, that it could not bear thinking about. He wanted her with a fierceness that was driving him insane. Striding over to the cabinet, he touched the button, and the shelves glided out.
Picking up a bottle of bourbon, he poured some into a glass and wandered over to stare at the window. He had ten minutes left before she arrived. He had instructed the guard to send her straight up to his office. Taking a sip of the drink, he stared at the brilliant lights of the surrounding buildings, vying with the moon's brightness.
Even now, thinking about her, he found himself growing hard. What the hell was going on with him? he thought irritably. He was accustomed to keeping his libido in check. He was not some youth just having his first encounter with a beautiful woman.
Before his marriage and more so after, he had been with several women. He enjoyed their company and admired them in a detached sort of way, never really getting involved emotionally. He turned at the knock on the door and realized that he had been so immersed in thought that he had noticed the time slipping away.
Striding over to his desk, he called for her to come in. It took every ounce of control not to react to the woman walking into his office. She was wearing peach, and this time, it was a skirt suit that showed her long, slender legs encased in see-through stockings. "I hope I am not late." Her lips parted tentatively, drawing his attention to her mouth.
“You are precisely on time,” He gestured to the chair before the desk. “Have a seat.”
She sat with her knees pressed together, looking at him. She had gold flecks in her brown eyes that reminded him of aged whiskey. Oh, Christ! Now, he was waxing poetic.
“I brought you some good news.” She continued when he did not say anything else.
