Ulterior Motives

by Laura Leone

  “But Shelley, dear, this lunch was your idea,” he pointed out wickedly.

  “Not all of it,” she said, and yanked her hand forcefully out of his. She turned her attention to the men from Keene International. “Please, I insist you let me pick up the check.”

  Both men argued with that, Mike out of courtesy and the other man because Shelley was a mere woman. Ross sat back and let them all bicker about who would pay for lunch. Shelley finally agreed to let Mike’s boss pay, realizing it was the sort of thing that would confirm his manliness to himself.

  “Did you bring a coat?” Ross asked Shelley as they approached the exit.

  “Yes, it’s right in here.” She walked into the cloakroom and found her simple beige blazer. Just as she was about to pull it off the hanger, Ross appeared next to her and removed it for her. With that old-fashioned courtesy she had seen in him before, he helped her put it on. Then he ruined the effect by suggestively stroking her arm and grinning with pleasure at her exasperation.

  Mike’s boss preceded them out of the restaurant, and despite the man’s vocal views on the defenseless sex, he let the door swing back in Shelley’s face. Mike rolled his eyes apologetically. Ross opened the door and ushered Shelley out into the breezy April afternoon on Sixth Street.

  After exchanging the usual courtesies, Mike Paige asked, “How are you getting back, Shelley?”

  “We’ll walk. It’s not far,” Ross said.

  “We?” Shelley said apprehensively.

  “I’m going your way,” he replied.

  “But Elite isn’t—”

  “My father taught me always to see a lady to her door.”

  “But I—”

  “Good, good, we won’t have to worry about her now,” said Mike’s boss, probably thinking what a man Ross was. “We’ll be talking to you, Ross... and to you, too, Michelle. Goodbye.”

  Mike Paige nodded to Shelley and Ross, and the two men climbed into a taxi. Mike’s boss obviously found walking the four blocks back to work too strenuous.

  “So much for the great white hunter,” Shelley murmured.

  “That was fun, wasn’t it?” Ross said cheerfully. “We must do this more often, Shelley.”

  Shelley whirled on him. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out.

  “You look quite overwhelmed. I sometimes have that effect on women,” Ross confided, “but you’ll get over it when you become more accustomed to me.”

  “I have no intention of becoming accustomed to you! And as soon as I can think of something cutting and rude enough to say to you, I—”

  “Temper, temper. I was just trying to lighten the atmosphere at lunch. All those stories about slaughtering Bambi seemed to be spoiling your appetite.”

  She pursed her lips for a moment and then, against her will, started to laugh. Ross smiled appreciatively.

  “There, that’s better. I like to see you laugh,” he said, tilting his head to one side. His eyes raked her severe brown skirt and beige top. “It makes you look more like yourself.”

  She sighed, wishing she could feel angry or order him to leave her alone. With a warm feeling of inevitability, she turned and started walking up the street, knowing he would tag along and feeling glad of it.

  “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me why you orchestrated this chance meeting today?” he asked.

  “I don’t suppose you’d like to tell me what you offered Keene International today?” she countered.

  “I don’t mind. I imagine Mike Paige will tell you soon enough, anyhow.”

  She looked at Ross in surprise. It hadn’t occurred to her that he might answer her question.

  “Well?” she prompted.

  He looked at her consideringly for a moment, and she had a sense again of the shrewdness he brought to his work.

  Most of the time, she amended silently, remembering their scene in her office.

  “I offered the usual native speakers, bonus lessons, inclusive materials, certified interpreters, and so on. I offered to send the instructors to Keene’s offices at no extra charge. Elite will pick up the travel expenses.”

  Shelley frowned, thinking. She could certainly match that offer, although it would take some bargaining with her superiors to get them to cover travel expenses for instructors and interpreters. “What else?”

  “Free limousine service, complimentary hotel suite for visiting foreigners, Elite buys meals for all private intensive students.”

  “Is there more?” she asked apprehensively.

  There certainly was. Ross outlined schedules and services Shelley couldn’t provide at prices she couldn’t match.

  “You can’t make a profit on that deal,” she said skeptically when he had finished. “Will Elite let you do that?” She frowned again and looked away. “Of course they will,” she murmured, “with your record. You must have done this before.”

  He glanced at her. “I take it you’ve read all about me?”

  “Yes,” she answered pensively.

  “And?”

  “And I think you’re very clever.” She looked away again. “That’s your plan for Cincinnati, isn’t it? Elite’s reputation is so bad here you need a big client like Keene to sign with you no matter what it costs you. They’ll give you the credibility you need to attract everyone else’s business, which you’ll charge normal prices for. Next year, when you renew Keene’s contract you’ll charge them enough to break even. Two years from now you’ll charge enough to make a handsome profit off them. But by then you’ll be firmly entrenched and growing rich off everybody.”

  He was silent for a moment. The breeze stirred his black hair, tumbling it over his forehead. “You’re very quick, Shelley.”

  “Does Mike Paige know?”

  “I don’t think he knows yet. He’ll figure it out eventually. But it won’t matter.”

  “No, it won’t, will it? Because whatever your motive, you’re offering him more than I can at a better price.”

  “Exactly.” His voice was soft, filled with something that she might have mistaken for regret.

  “So it won’t even matter that Chuck is still your director. They’ll want to do business with you anyhow.”

  “Chuck won’t be in charge anymore,” he said.

  She looked at him with obvious surprise. He stopped and turned toward her. He took her arm and drew her under the wide stone stairway leading up to the skywalk. In the soft shadows, with his rich blue eyes and with the wind touching his raven hair, he looked like one of her more intense fantasies come to lure her away from her responsible job and her practical nature.

  “You’re getting rid of Chuck?” she asked. He nodded. “Why?”

  “Because he’s dishonest and incompetent.” Ross sighed. “I’m so tired of taking away people’s jobs. I didn’t want to do it again.”

  “But it’s for the best, Ross,” Shelley said, vaguely aware that it was absurd to think about comforting him.

  “I know.” His warm hand came up to stroke her face. “He doesn’t know yet. I’m trusting you with a secret.”

  “I won’t say anything.”

  “I believe you.” He pushed a copper-colored strand of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear in, a peculiarly tender gesture. He caressed her thick ponytail tumbling wildly behind her head. “I love your hair,” he murmured. “It looks like you just got out of bed.”

  “Thanks a lot,” she said dryly.

  “I didn’t mean it that way. It makes you look soft,” he murmured. “Touchable.” His gaze shifted to her mouth. “Sexy.” His eyes half closed, hiding his expression, but not before she’d seen the sudden flash of desire there. It pierced through her, tugging at her own needs. In the few days since they’d met, had she known a single moment when he wasn’t in her thoughts?

  “Ross...” She had meant to sound matter-of-fact, but she practically purred his name.

  “I’m sorry about yesterday,” he whispered. His fingers traced the line of her collar. “I lost my he
ad. I was sitting there thinking about what an honest person you were, then Chuck told me... I don’t know... I just couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else touching you.”

  She heard the confusion in his low voice, the possessiveness, and wondered at it. “I haven’t got the basic equipment to be a scarlet woman,” she said breathlessly.

  “Oh, Shelley,” he sighed. “What a lot you have to learn.”

  His mouth captured hers—warm, pliant, coaxing—gently but relentlessly demanding. They slid naturally into each other’s arms as his lips begged a response from hers. The past hour, she realized suddenly, had been nothing but foreplay, all thrust and parry, hide and seek. She could have cut him short at any point during lunch, but she had let him see her interest, her excitement.

  He pulled back and kissed her again and again, nibbling at her lips, nuzzling her throat, increasing his demands. She opened herself to him willingly, wanting to give him whatever he needed from her. She hid nothing, denied him nothing, and demanded the same intensity from him as their mouths slanted hungrily across each other.

  He pulled away quite suddenly. His breath was shallow and rapid. His hand came up to her jaw and he studied her with an intense, confused frown.

  “What is it?” she asked huskily, watching him with candid vulnerability.

  “You...” He kissed her lightly again, with shattering tenderness, then released her.

  She gazed at him, sensing another struggle going on inside him that she was sure involved more than desire. Something had cracked his smooth exterior, and he was wary and surprised.

  Shelley took a deep breath and realized that it was just as well that something had abruptly interrupted their mutual fascination. This was hardly the place.

  “I have to get back to work,” she said inanely.

  “Of course.” He willfully forced the surprised confusion out of his expression and regained his usual composure. Shelley wondered how much else he kept hidden under that debonair manner and easy charm. She thought back to what she’d read about his chaotic youth, his wild escapades, his rebellious life. He was much more complicated than she had suspected.

  “You’re a slippery character,” she murmured pensively.

  He grinned at that. He took her hand and kissed it with excessive gallantry. “Indeed I am. But you’re a tough woman. I imagine you could kick me into shape.”

  Shelley shook her head in amusement. “I’m a busy woman,” she corrected. She sobered as he led her out of the shadow of the stairs. “I have to call my boss in Chicago, Ross. I have to tell him what you’re planning. I have to.”

  His own humor fled at once. “I know.”

  “I... don’t want you to walk me the rest of the way back to work.”

  He nodded, seemingly lost in thought. Just before he turned away from her he said, “Will I see you again this week?”

  She hesitated for a long moment before saying, “I don’t think so, Ross.”

  “Shelley, we need—”

  “Please, don’t say any more. I just don’t know what to do. I’m under pressure from everyone right now. Don’t add to it,” she pleaded.

  She thought he would argue and was perversely disappointed when he agreed to respect her wishes. She turned to leave and, after she’d taken a few steps, heard him call her name. Heart pounding, she looked over her shoulder.

  “Yes?”

  His eyes were dancing again, as they had at lunch, and she knew he was up to something. “Still looking for a Pashto interpreter?”

  “How did you—Oh.” She remembered he’d been in her lobby yesterday to witness her disappointment. “I’m still looking,” she admitted.

  “Well, if you don’t find anyone, I know one.”

  “You do? Who? Where?” she asked eagerly, taking a few steps toward him.

  “Oh, no,” he chided. “I want you to come to me for it. And when you do, I’ll want something in return.”

  He actually had the gall to wink at her. Then he sauntered away, leaving her to stare after him in exasperation.

  Chapter Five

  You know,” Shelley said to Wayne three days later, “bureaucracy is a remarkable thing. I’ve made numerous phone calls, sent a detailed written report, and offered a dozen specific suggestions about our situation here. And the great minds at headquarters have brilliantly deduced that Ross Tanner may try to get a contract with Keene International and that I have to stop him.”

  “That’s all?” Wayne asked.

  “That’s all. They haven’t given me any more bargaining tools, any more independent authority, or even any more money for business lunches. How do they expect me to get that contract?” she said in frustration.

  “Proposition Mike Paige,” Wayne offered.

  “That is a vulgar suggestion,” Francesca said as she set down a tray of coffee on Shelley’s desk.

  “Call Jerome in Chicago,” Wayne said.

  “I did. He promised to talk to them personally and explain everything in words of one syllable.” Shelley crumpled a piece of paper and threw it in the trashcan across the room.

  “They even denied the pay raise I requested for Ute. You know, sometimes I feel like they’re the bad guys. I mean, how am I supposed to run a good business with them getting in my way all the time?”

  “My father worked for the Italian government when I was a bambina, and things like this used to happen to him all the time,” Francesca said.

  “Really? What did he do?” Wayne asked.

  “He ignored their instructions and did what he knew had to be done.”

  “This isn’t Calabria, Francesca. They’d find out immediately, and they’d fire me on the spot.” Shelley sipped her coffee. “Despite everything, I still like my job, and I don’t want to go looking for another one.”

  “Perhaps you can convince Ross Tanner to let you have this one contract,” Francesca suggested.

  “How?”

  Wayne looked at Francesca. Francesca looked at Shelley. Shelley looked blank.

  “He is very attracted to you,” Francesca said.

  “Hey...” Wayne said slowly. “Maybe—”

  “Absolutely not!” Shelley said. “How could you even suggest such a thing? You’re starting to sound like Chuck.”

  “I did not mean anything improper, Shelley,” Francesca said. “A simple request made at a moment when he’s feeling gallant and generous.”

  “Yeah,” said Wayne.

  “Shelley, cara, he could hardly take his eyes off you when he was here.”

  “Yeah,” said Wayne.

  “Perhaps you could influence him—”

  “Yeah!” Wayne obviously loved this plan.

  “Forget it,” Shelley said firmly. “Apart from the fact that he’s a very clever, experienced, and ruthless man, how could you suggest I compromise my self-respect that way? Then I really would be what Chuck implied.”

  “Americans,” Francesca sighed. She shrugged and left the room.

  The telephone rang. Eager to change the subject, Shelley picked it up. “Babel Language Center. Can I help you?”

  “Shelley, have you found a Pashto interpreter yet?”

  Shelley gave a deep sigh. It was the interpreters’ coordinator in Washington. “No, I haven’t.”

  The woman’s vituperative response was so loud that Shelley had to hold the phone away from her ear. Wayne’s eyes widened and he huddled in his chair.

  “Yes, I know there’s very little time left.” Shelley closed her eyes as another loud wave of angry criticism washed over her. “Calm down, calm down. I have a good lead. I’m checking into it today. I’ll call you first thing Monday morning, okay?” She slammed down the receiver before the angry woman could exercise her vocal chords again.

  “Do you really have a good lead?” Wayne asked.

  “Yes, I do,” Shelley with resignation. “I’m going to go see about it right now.”

  She put on a gray blazer and left Babel. As she walked over to Elite, she reflected on
the irony of her situation. The one man who was out to hurt her the most was also the only person who could help her in this instance.

  Her plan to learn how Ross did business hadn’t gone as she had intended, but she had at least seen the effect he had on business associates and had deduced his strategy for rebuilding Elite’s reputation and business in Cincinnati.

  What’s more, wrapped in his arms, enthralled by his dizzying kisses, she had discovered an unexpected level of vulnerability in him that she intuitively knew few people ever got to see. The discovery made him all the more appealing, all the more fascinating to her. But if it was intriguing to know he was vulnerable, it was also unsettling to know he could hide it so well. He was even more dangerous to her now. And since her staff had just blithely urged her to encourage his attentions in order to secure her company’s success against him, Shelley knew his presence here could be embarrassing to her, too.

  She felt so confused that she almost wished he would go away before it was too late. Too late for what, she wasn’t yet sure. She only knew that nothing in her life had prepared her for Ross, while everything in her life had trained her to be loyal to her employer, her employees, her clients, and her sense of what was right. And the strange, unsettling rightness of being with Ross disturbed all her notions of where her loyalties lay.

  She pushed open the heavy glass door to Elite’s lobby and stopped in surprise. There were half a dozen workmen inside, stripping wallpaper, ripping out the light fixtures, hauling away old furniture, and generally wreaking havoc. Shelley felt glum. She had been trying to get money to redecorate for nearly a year, while Ross had achieved this goal in just one week.

  She felt momentarily surprised to realize that it had only been one week since that fateful moment when she had spotted him across a crowded room. So much had happened since then, it was hard to believe he’d only been disrupting her life for a handful of days. Would it all have turned out differently, she wondered, if she hadn’t had a moment alone with him before finding out who he was? She shrugged. Perhaps they’d never share any level of intimacy, but she would still be drawn to him; there was no point in pretending otherwise.