Chapter One
“You’re here late.”
Lexie Underhill flinched at the unexpected voice that drifted across her office, but she didn’t need to look up to recognize who was standing in her doorway. Cameron Rowe. Her breath tightened like a pinched balloon. She’d thought she was alone.
How could she have missed him?
She quickly silenced the music that was coming from her iPod docking station. She wished desperately for the suit jacket that sat draped over the back of the chair behind her, but she refused to reach for it. Refused to show any signs of weakness.
“So are you,” she noted as her chin lifted. Hatchet man.
Her toes inched towards the shoes that lay tumbled under her desk. She’d thought she was the only one left in the building. Even the cleaning crew had come and gone, so why was he still here?
“What are you working on?” he asked.
She swept her hand protectively over her proposal, wiping away the tiny flecks of paper that clung to the clear plastic cover. Static electricity tingled against her fingertips, a prickly warning. “Just getting ready for tomorrow’s all-staff meeting.”
His brow furrowed as he watched her place the bound copy with the others. “Is there a problem with Marketing’s quarterly report?”
“No, it’s ready to go.”
Curious, he pushed away from the doorjamb and walked closer. His gaze kept going back to the stack of proposals, and Lexie fought the urge to clutch them to her chest. She headed up Underhill Associates’ marketing department, but the concept before her was something new…an idea she’d had to help turn her family’s company around.
Rather than gut it as he intended.
Her hackles rose higher as he lowered himself into the chair in front of her desk. Without her jacket and shoes, she felt at a distinct disadvantage—even if he was just as casual. His tie was loosened, and the sleeves of his crisp white shirt were rolled up on his forearms. Strong, tanned forearms, she couldn’t help but notice. He tossed his jacket onto the chair beside him and leaned towards her.
She inhaled slowly, fighting her response. He didn’t fool her. That was a wolf in sheep’s clothing before her.
“I’m sorry,” she said tightly. “Did you need something?”
The moment stretched infinitely as he watched her. Even quiet, he had a powerful presence. Make that especially when he was quiet.
“A break,” he finally answered. His attention shifted to her desk. It was uncharacteristically cluttered. The quarterly marketing report was open as she scoured it one last time for any typos. Her calculator was powered up, fresh from double-checking all her numbers, and a half-empty can of Diet Mountain Dew sat within reach. So did a granola bar, but it was untouched. Lexie cringed, especially when his gaze landed on her iPod. This was her inner sanctum, the one place where she could be herself. She didn’t like him this close, in her space. He made her feel exposed.
Had since the very first time she’d met him.
“Looks like you could use one too,” he murmured.
Her pen flicked back and forth between her fingertips. Being alone with him like this wasn’t a good idea. In the three months since her father had brought Rowe onboard to restructure the company, this was the closest she’d ever gotten to the man. Or more precisely, the closest she’d ever let him get to her. Inevitably, she found herself sitting beside him at meetings, but outside of that forced proximity, she’d become adept at avoiding him.
And for good reason.
“It will only take a little bit longer for me to finish,” she promised.
“Anything I can help you with?”
“No. I’m good. Thanks.”
His gaze honed in on the stack of proposals again. “Is it the layout for the new magazine ad?”
“No.”
“The results of the online survey?”
“No.”
“Some special project I don’t know about?”
Damn.
She hesitated for only the slightest of moments. “Yes.”
His eyebrows lifted, and she shifted in discomfort when he leaned closer. She’d roused the wolf.
“Can I see?”
She clutched the stack of proposals. Absolutely not!
Although the temptation to share was stronger than she’d expected…
Things at Underhill had gotten so strained, nobody was willing to even brainstorm. She’d tried to run the idea by her father, but he was too busy to listen. With every percent the company lost in market share, his mood became darker and terser. She’d feel so much better proposing her idea tomorrow if she knew it had legs, and the man across the desk from her had the sharpest mind she’d ever encountered.
But he was the enemy.
She shook her head. “You can review it tomorrow along with everyone else.”
“Can’t I even get a peek?”
Her stomach gave an unfamiliar little squeeze. “No.”
His dark eyes glittered, and a flush ran through her. There was a reason people called him Ruthless Rowe. He saw things others overlooked. Loopholes, redundancies and weaknesses were annihilated the moment they came to his attention. She wasn’t weak—and neither was her department—but she wasn’t stupid. It was better to stay out of his crosshairs entirely.
So why did she feel she was suddenly lined up in his sights?
His fingertips drummed together as he rested his elbows on his knees.
“So let me see if I understand correctly. In addition to your already heavy workload, you’ve been staying late to work on a secret project.” He glanced at the can of Diet Mountain Dew. “With only caffeine and ’80s pop music to keep you going?”
Lexie fought not to nab her personal items and shove them under her desk. What was she supposed to say? This was normal for her.
“Meanwhile, your brother took the afternoon off to play golf.”
She blinked. It wasn’t the direction she’d expected him to take. “Well, yes, but with a potential client.”
“Client, my ass. We both know that was an old college buddy.”
Wariness made her skin prickle. She was well aware of the situation, but she was not one allowed to question. Landers was the golden boy in her father’s eyes, although his sales team propped him up like a Herculean army.
The hatchet man’s eyes narrowed. “And I’m pretty sure Tara spent the day at the spa across the street.”
That pinched-balloon feeling returned. Carefully, Lexie put her calculator back into its case. This was not a subject she wanted to get into with him. Not now. Not ever. “What is your point, Mr. Rowe?”
“The name is Cam. Don’t you think it’s time you started using it?”
His unexpected flare of irritation made her toes clench inside her loose shoes. She looked at him and found impatience in his eyes. Impatience and something more… The tingle in her toes ran up her legs.
He sighed and rubbed his jaw, making the five o’clock shadow rasp. “Why couldn’t you just be more like the others?”
Lexie went still. “Excuse me?”
“Not like… Damn it.” His head fell forward. After a ten count, it lifted again. “What am I supposed to do with you, Lexie? You work too hard.”
Because she had to. Always had. Always would. But she’d never had to defend her work ethic before. She wrapped her fingers around her warm soda. It was an old wound he was poking at, and an easy target. “There’s a problem with that?”
“It makes what I have to do difficult.” With a sigh, he looked out the wall of windows to his left. Her office was the smallest in the management suite, but its view of the city’s night lights was riveting. To some, at least. She tended to stay as far away from the window as she could. From their perch on the twelfth floor, Cobalt City appeared to
be covered with a blanket of black, yet colors glinted like gems, sparkling softly in shades of red, white and yellow. Rowe didn’t seem to see any of it.
“UAI is a family-run business,” he said. “Trouble starts when you treat one family member differently from the others.”
It was late and Lexie’s brain was sluggish, yet she knew all about being the odd one out. She could give a Master’s course in it. “And just how is it that you’re treating me differently?”
His gaze flicked to hers, dark and unreadable.
“It’s time for more layoffs. I’ve been running the numbers all night, but it’s time to make some moves. Moves you’re not going to like.”
Her tired eyes popped open as he caught her off-guard once again. “More? But we’ve already been through two rounds.”
Oh God. Her employees.
She looked around her office. Her conference table was full of draft brochures, display mockups and radio ad copy. She had a topnotch team. Even with their reduced budget they’d found creative ways to keep Underhill’s name in the public’s awareness. In these tough economic times, they were doing everything they could to keep the company afloat. Twitter, Facebook, viral marketing, old-fashioned word of mouth… They’d tried everything.
Yet the table sat in darkness. No gems glittered there. The sky outside had turned inky black, casting a shadow on anything too far from artificial light. She nearly shivered. Had all their work been in vain?
“You can’t.” She refused to give in without a fight. It wasn’t right.
“I can. It’s why your father hired me.”
True, and the fact still stung. Julian had put his faith in an outsider to save his company rather than his own staff or family. Rather than her.
When she was such an outsider herself.
“Take people from HR or Product Development.” She felt terrible offering up others for pink slips. They had families and mortgages like anyone else, but her siblings ran looser ships. Their employees tended to follow their lead, showing up late and goofing around when there was work to do. She’d just never been one to point fingers.
Until now.
Rowe’s fingers stopped drumming. “We’ve cut enough from the front lines. It’s time to look at management.”
Management? Her project managers were in the thick of the mix. They—
The aluminum can crinkled under her grip when her muddled brain processed what he was telling her. He wasn’t talking about project managers or account managers.
He was going after her family members.
“We both know the source of this company’s problems,” he said softly, mercilessly. “And it’s time they were addressed.”
Her heart sank even as it began to pound a little faster. The hum of her computer suddenly seemed too loud and the city lights outside her dark window blinked too brightly.
Were her siblings finally going to be held accountable?
The moment the traitorous thought hit her, her stomach clenched. No, she couldn’t think like that. Shouldn’t. Besides, Julian would never have brought Rowe onboard if he’d thought he’d do something like that. “My father won’t allow it.”
“He’ll have to, or he’ll lose his company.”
Were things that bad?
Of course, they were. She knew they were.
She began worrying the pop tab with her thumb. She should defend her siblings, but she couldn’t muster up the words. Besides, she’d learned long ago that in her father’s eyes, her brothers and sisters could do no wrong. Julian Underhill loved his children to a fault. They didn’t need her to defend them. He’d put up a nasty fight to save them. Still…
“Which one?”
A muscle in Rowe’s jaw twitched. “Like I said, you make my job difficult.”
This time, her stomach dropped out completely. Dear God. Was he coming after her?
Because she’d done a good job? Because she’d worked her fingers to the bone?
Because she wasn’t like the others?
He was quiet as he watched her. Intense. Her goose bumps pulled tighter, and her pulse pounded in her ears. She was more vulnerable than the others. She knew it, and so did he.
Would her father stand up for her?
She pushed back from the desk, and her chair rolled off-kilter. She stood before it could fall over, but her ankles tilted inside her unstrapped shoes. The sharp pain made her wince, and she kicked them off. Not caring what he thought of her, she walked barefoot towards the bank of windows. The darkness outside played tricks with her depth perception. The view was pretty, in the way fire was pretty. She couldn’t forget how far one could fall.
It was impossible to think. She turned back. Then spun to face the windows again and raked a hand through her hair. The blinking lights outside burned her corneas.
It didn’t make sense. Cameron Rowe was nationally known as a restructuring specialist, and he wasn’t afraid to do the dirty work. He went from one company to the next, slicing and dicing. If companies survived, they came out stronger.
But if they didn’t…
“Why?” This wasn’t what needed to be done. She wasn’t the weakest link here.
Was she?
He stood. “It’s not good for a company to have one person carrying all the weight.”
“So you get rid of that person?”
He walked towards her, his heavy footsteps silenced by the plush carpeting. The wolf was coming in for the kill. “Have you ever thought about going somewhere else? Striking out on your own?”
She rubbed her bare arms. “Of course I have.”
But never seriously.
“Then why do you immerse yourself in the middle of all this chaos? You could get a job anywhere. Why do you stay?”
“Why?” she said incredulously. “Because they’re my family.”
“But you’re—”
“I’m what?” she fired back. “Adopted? Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think that everyone knows that?”
She spun away, her fingernails biting into her palms. It was the story of her life. She was forever the square peg trying to fit into the round hole. She didn’t look like the rest of her family, and she didn’t act like them. In personality, she might as well have been from another species, yet the Underhills were hers. As disparate as they were, they were the only family she’d ever known. She loved them. She was loyal to them.
But it always came back to those differences, didn’t it? Her nails cut so deep into her skin, they nearly drew blood.
Enough. She’d had enough. “I’m going home.”
She darted towards her desk, but Rowe followed hot on her heels.
“That’s not what I meant,” he growled.
He moved with such fluidity, it made her wonder if her wolf comparison was that far off. He certainly was a predator.
Shaking, she picked up one of her shoes and lifted her foot behind her to slip it on. She gasped when he caught her hand before she could tug the elastic strap over the back of her heel.
His dark eyes were hot as he looked down at her. “If you’d let me finish, I was trying to say that you’re wasted here.”
She glared up at him, not believing him, but found him closer than she expected. Too close.
She froze.
His size wasn’t as big as his reputation portended, but he was a presence. His shoulders were wide and his body was muscled. He didn’t tower over her, but he had a good six inches on her. It put her on eye level with his hard lips.
Lips that suddenly didn’t seem so hard after all.
As she watched, a soft expulsion of air left his mouth, and he went stock-still.
Too late, Lexie realized the sexual pose she presented. With her foot lifted behind her, her back was arched and her breasts were pressed tightly against the silk tank she wore. The slit in the side of her skirt split wide, showing a generous amount of thigh. He was standing so close, his pant leg brushed against that tender vee of skin. Yet all that paled in comp
arison to the feel of his fingertips against her vulnerable Achilles tendon. Firm, hot and intimate, it startled her.
She grasped for the chair to steady herself. She clutched his arm instead. He’d reached for her, his free hand catching her waist.
Tension still crackled in the room, but its focus had shifted.
He was touching her.
He cleared his throat, the sound rough. “You could do better than this, Lexie.”
Her mouth went dry. She didn’t think so.
The thought pinged around her head like a snapped rubber band, and her cheeks heated. She fumbled with the strap of the stiletto but lost all remaining air when his caress slid down to her heel.
“Let me.”
His touch traveled over the side of her foot, searching for the spot where the strap had gotten trapped underneath. Her toes pointed reflexively when an inquisitive finger stroked her arch. Her hold on his arm tightened, but he managed to hook the strap. He gave a tug and it popped loose. Slowly, he retraced his path, guiding the elastic band into place.
“Breathe,” he whispered.
Her lungs caught fire when she remembered to inhale. Oh, dear Lord. She’d known he was dangerous to her, but she’d had no idea in how many ways. Heat blazed up her leg, settling in her core. The tingle she’d felt before in her toes was nothing compared to this. Nothing.
His caress circled her ankle, his thumb still tracing that mischievous strap. His dark gaze hadn’t moved from her face. “I’m trying to do what’s best for everybody.”
And what was best for her was apparently tossing her out on her rump.
The surprising arousal she felt was quickly doused.
Talk about an Achilles’ heel. What was she doing?
The mush in her leg hardened back into muscle. Breaking his hold on her, she set her foot firmly back on the carpet. Why? Why did she have to react to this man, of all people? He wanted to toss her out like a toy that had been used and abused but was no longer shiny enough for show and tell.
She sidestepped away from his touch on her waist. “It sounds to me like you’re taking the easy way out.”
“You think this is easy for me?”
She needed to get away from him. She had to get somewhere she could think. Snatching her other shoe, she dropped into her chair to put it on herself. There was no way she could take another Prince Charming performance—only her hands were unsteady and her fingers were clumsy.
Lexie Page 1