by Trish Wylie
‘No.’
‘Good. I’ve never spent a day of my life in an office, and I’m not starting now.’ It would be suffocating.
‘You’ll sell to me, then.’
‘Maybe.’ He laid his palms against the gleaming table and pushed his chair back, stretching his long legs out in front of him. ‘Where are you getting the money?’
When Jake studied him with suspicion Adam thought he’d overplayed the nonchalance card. So he leaned forwards, bending his knees so he had a place to rest his forearms. ‘It’d take time to liquidate enough assets and you’d need permission from the board for that—which you’re not going to get if anyone stands to make any money with a takeover bid. So where would it come from?’
Jake pursed his lips.
So Adam pushed off his knees into an upright position, ‘You either want me to have the full picture or you don’t.’
‘What difference does it make?’ Jake’s voice remained calm. ‘You don’t need to know where I get it any more than I need to know what you do with it.’
Fair point. Except he did want to know. If his little brother wasn’t going to tell him, then he’d find out on his own.
Adam glanced around the large room, taking in the changes since the days he’d been dragged along for the obligatory heir-to-the-kingdom tours. Instead of heavy oak and opressive panelling there were shining modern surfaces and spotlights immitating stars in a jet-black ceiling. He’d bet his father hadn’t initiated the changes, which made him wonder just how long Jake had held the reins. And how much of the conglomerate’s current problems were actually his doing…
‘Four years.’
Adam looked at Jake.
Who leaned back in his chair and formed a tent with his fingers. ‘I’ve been running it four years. That’s what you were wondering.’
Adam hid his surprise at the unexpected spark of insight. ‘You were young.’
‘I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?’
‘Everyone has a choice.’
‘Not if they give a damn, they don’t. Then they make decisions based on what matters. Or what should matter.’
Adam shook his head, exhaling a soft snort of derisive laughter as he pushed to his feet. ‘Don’t pretend to know what mattered or didn’t matter to me, Jake. You don’t know anything about me.’
‘And whose fault is that?’ Before Adam could reply Jake pushed to his feet, gathering files together as he continued, ‘You might not care about this company, Adam, but I do. So if you’re selling, let me know. If you want to learn more before you decide, then say so. The door has always been open.’
He looked Adam in the eye on his way past. ‘Whether you thought it was or not.’
Adam stood in the empty room for a while after Jake left. He’d been there one day—hell, not even that long—and already he felt as if the walls were closing in. Dropping his head back, he scowled at the ceiling; it was as if he’d stepped back in time and hadn’t learned a single thing in his twelve years away.
Turning on his heel, he dropped his chin—and met Roane’s gaze through the vertical blinds. She was standing still in the middle of the bustling hallway, watching him. Lit by the bright light streaming through the office windows, her skin glowed, her hair shone like ripe corn fields in summer sunshine—and wearing a red jacket she stood out in the sea of greys, blacks and charcoals like a beacon.
For a split second he almost smiled at her. But instead he frowned at the fact she might have seen even a hint of how he was feeling. He didn’t want anyone to see. It was a weakness. So with a silent mental shake he gathered himself together, stepping out through the doorway and striding confidently towards her, determined to pick up where they’d left off. But before he got to her a middle-aged man from the meeting stepped over.
‘Good to see you, Adam.’ His voice was laced with thinly veiled disrespect. ‘We thought you were dead.’
Adam was a step away from him when he stopped. He clenched his jaw. Talking a measured step backwards, he turned his face towards the man, his voice cold. ‘Sorry to disappoint.’ He looked him over. ‘Jeffries, right?’
The man swallowed hard. ‘That’s right.’
Adam nodded, slowly turning ninety degrees to tower over him. ‘Well…Jeffries…a word to the wise…’
He paled. ‘Y-yes?’
‘Ever treat me like a fool the way you did in that meeting again and you’ll wish I was dead.’ When he lifted his arm the man flinched, and Adam smiled inwardly as he swiped an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder before lowering his head to add, ‘Have a nice day.’
Roane blinked wide eyes at him as he walked by her, her voice choked. ‘Bye, Malcolm.’
‘Roane…’ Malcolm Jeffries was too busy scurrying away to pay much attention to her.
A quick glance over Adam’s shoulder told him she was following him to the elevators, so he punched the button and waited. When she got to his side Adam glanced sideways at her, ‘You got something to say, then spit it out.’
‘Nope. Nothing to say.’
‘Good.’
‘Except he probably deserved it,’ she said after a moment of silence. ‘Malcolm can be a bit of a jerk. Office lech too, from what the girls say. Wandering hands…’
Adam’s face jerked her way so fast he almost put his neck out. ‘He touched you?’
One arched brow rose as she rolled back onto her heels. ‘That would be your problem because?’
Damned if Adam knew. But it took a gargantuan effort not to turn round and go right back down the hall for another tête-à-tête. The elevator better get a move on. He glanced up at the numbers: forty-two, forty-three…It was the slowest elevator in New York.
‘Jake didn’t have a quiet word?’ Bitterness rolled off the tip of his tongue. But if he hadn’t, then he’d just dropped in Adam’s estimation.
‘Why would he—? Oh…’ When she faltered Adam turned to study her expression, the fact she wasn’t able to look him in the eye making him suspicious even before a hint of colour started to appear on her cheeks. ‘I didn’t say he touched me—I said the office girls mentioned it. It wouldn’t have been Jake’s problem even if he had. I can look after myself.’
Adam turned towards her, calmly folding his arms, ‘Anything else you want to set straight?’
She looked up at him, her luminous blue eyes filled with curiosity. ‘How come you didn’t tell me the reason you don’t like flying?’
She’d been asking questions about him, had she? That was interesting, but, ‘That wasn’t what I meant.’
She blinked blankly at him.
One of the things Roane Elliott needed to learn about him quick smart was that he wasn’t that easily diverted. ‘Are you or are you not involved with Jake?’
‘I am.’ She nodded firmly.
Adam knew he’d worded it wrong. ‘Sexually.’
Her eyes widened, gaze darting nervously around them and her voice lowering. ‘Do you mind?’
As it happened, yes, he did. He minded a whole heap.
They stepped into the elevator together, Adam waiting until the doors closed before he moved and effectively boxed her into a corner with his body.
‘Yes or no.’
The small space between them seemed to crackle. From the change in her breathing and the sharp intake of breath she took Adam knew she could feel it as keenly as he could. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so much heat radiating from a woman. He’d felt it on the beach, he’d felt it in the kitchen, he’d provoked it on the plane…
If she wasn’t involved with Jake, then she was in way over her pretty little head. She was exactly the kind of distraction Adam needed from the things he currently felt he had a fleeting control over.
The doors behind him slid open and he saw Roane angling her head to look around him, the small grimace on her face telling him they had company. So he casually leaned a shoulder against the wall and lowered his tone.
‘Yes or no.’
> Roane glared at him, answering in a similarly low tone, ‘None of your business.’
‘I’m making it my business.’
‘Why?’ She seemed astounded by the notion.
Surely she couldn’t be that naive? But if she wanted to have the discussion in front of an audience, then so be it. ‘Why do you think?’
Taking a moment to smile weakly at the other occupant of the elevator, she flicked her long lashes upwards again. ‘I’m not interested.’
Adam’s smile was slow. ‘Liar.’
The elevator doors opened again and for a brief second Adam thought he heard her moan. Probably mentally willing their visitor to stay. But by the time the doors closed the spark of fire had returned to her eyes.
‘I meant I didn’t want to know why.’ She cocked her head to one side, the curls at the end of her shoulder-length hair brushing the collar of her jacket. Then she grumbled, ‘If your ego gets any bigger you’ll have to give it its own name.’
‘So why did you tell me you’re in a relationship with my brother if you’re not?’
Roane growled at him. ‘You are the most—’
Adam calmly folded his arms again. ‘Want to know what I think?’
She lifted her arms and flopped them down into a similar folded position, pouting in a way that drew his attention to her mouth. ‘No.’
Adam continued to stare at her mouth. ‘I think you were hiding behind him.’
When she worried on her lower lip it drew his hand out of the crook of his arm, his thumb pressing against it to still the movement. ‘Don’t do that.’
When his gaze rose he found her staring at him, the blue now clouded with—he frowned—was it fear? It made him study her closer, the realization slow to filter through to the front of his brain. ‘This is new to you.’
How could someone with so much fire not have experience of sexual attraction on its most basic level? There was no way she’d got to her age and not—He almost laughed in disbelief at the idea. There was no way she was a virgin.
When the doors slid open he dropped his hand and glanced over his shoulder, frowning when they were joined by several men and women in suits. He knew there was another reason he hated office environments. Too many damn people.
He looked down at Roane again, the flush on her cheeks and the laboured rise and fall of her breasts telling him just how affected she was by their topic of conversation and the proximity he’d forced on her. There was one thing he was sure of—she was turned on. He’d bet she was ready for him already.
He breathed deep as if he might catch the scent of her arousal in the air, then stated the obvious with deep satisfaction. ‘It’s a no to you and Jake.’
‘Well, that genius IQ obviously isn’t wasted on you, is it?’ She glared up at him, then looked away.
‘Was it ever a yes?’
‘No. Happy now?’ Another glare.
Ecstatic. For the first time since he’d laid eyes on her Adam let go. He experienced anticipation thrumming through his veins, the rush of adrenalin pumping his blood harder. It had been a long, long time since he’d been so turned on by the thrill of the chase.
He wanted her. He wanted her bad. Adam always got what he wanted. Had done for a long, long time. He’d built his new life on his ability to make things happen…and on never taking no for an answer…
Roane’s gaze flickered upwards, her eyes widened and then she whispered huskily, ‘Please stop that.’
‘Stop what?’ he whispered back, leaning in a little closer and allowing his gaze to drop to her mouth.
The mouth she dutifully prepared for him with the tip of her tongue. ‘You know what.’
Yes, he did. He knew exactly what he was doing.
The doors slid open at street level, so Adam pushed his shoulder off the wall and waited for the other occupants to leave before swinging an arm in invitation. ‘Miss Elliott.’
She glared sideways at him on her way past.
He fell into step beside her, matching his long-legged stride to her fast paced clicking of heels on the sheen of the foyer floor. Then he let her go through the swinging doors first, his gaze dropping to the rounded curve of her rear.
On the bustling sidewalk of Park Avenue he casually reached for her elbow, swinging her sharply around. Her hair arced out from her head, she scowled in annoyance. Then Adam hauled her in, pressing his mouth to hers.
When she tried to pull back he lifted his other hand, wrapping his fingers around the back of her head and adding enough pressure to still her. She moaned in complaint. He smiled against her lips. She was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. All the sweeter because she didn’t fight.
Her lips were warm and soft beneath his, full and irresistibly inviting. When she didn’t open to let him in he sucked her lower lip between his, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. Her sharp gasp garnered such a deep sense of victory in him he did it again, purposefully keeping the kiss soft and persuasive—lips coaxing as his tongue caressed. She shivered, he nipped her lower lip. Silently demanding she succumb to him.
Roane made a strangled noise in the base of her throat. When she opened her lips to let the noise out, Adam dipped the tip of his tongue into her mouth, curling it to tease the tip of hers. Suddenly she was leaning into him as if her legs couldn’t quite hold her up…It was all he needed to make his point. For now.
He dragged his mouth from hers and set her back a step, smiling as she swayed and her heavy-lidded eyes gradually blinked him into focus.
‘I can find the penthouse on my own unless they’ve moved it since my day.’
Her brows wavered, her breathing laboured as questions formed in her expressive eyes. ‘Why did—How—You can’t—’
Adam pressed his forefinger to her mouth, lowering his head to look deep into her eyes. ‘Just something for you to think about, little girl.’
Roane began to frown, but Adam smiled lazily. The battle lines were drawn now.
He moved the tip of a blunt fingernail over her swollen lower lip, his gaze watching the movement as he told her in a low, rumbling voice, ‘When you’ve thought about it you’ll find me. Or I’ll find you. It’s that simple.’
Roane blinked at him with wide eyes.
Good girl. That’s more like it. He rewarded her with a small smile, his voice low and steeped with promises of what was to come. ‘It’s gonna be hot, little girl—trust me. This kinda chemistry? It’s rare.’
Then he dropped his hand and turned on his heel, letting a full-blown smile loose as he walked away…
CHAPTER FOUR
HE WAS SITTING IN A café when Roane caught sight of him hours later, his elbows on the table and his chin resting in the palm of one large hand while he looked ahead.
He looked as if he had a lot on his mind. If he’d been anyone else she knew Roane would immediately have walked over and pulled out a chair to talk to him. But he was Adam. She didn’t want to help him feel better when he’d walked away before she could form a sentence!
Why-oh-why did it have to be Adam who kissed her better than she’d ever been kissed before? Who left her standing on the same spot long after he’d walked away—blinking while she tried to figure out why it suddenly felt as if the world had tilted on its axis beneath her feet. And that it was a man like Adam who had done it was just…it was…well…it just didn’t make any sense to Roane. She didn’t even like him.
He was arrogant, blunt to the point of rudeness, overbearing…She had a long list of what he was.
Pursing her lips and scrunching up her nose, Roane turned on her heel to walk away. She didn’t care what was on his mind.
A whimper of frustration sounded low in her throat as she wavered on the balls of her feet—trying to force herself to walk away. If she went over there he would just be Adam. It had taken her the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening wandering around Manhattan to feel like herself again.
She grimaced, attempted to go left and bumped shoulders with someone. ‘I�
��m so sorry.’
She tried going right and managed two steps before she stopped again, stamping her foot in frustration. She really had had enough. Adam Bryant needed to understand he couldn’t just stride in on those long legs of his and ride roughshod over her. She wasn’t going to be bullied, or intimidated or harassed or—tempted, darn it. He needed to get that.
She needed to have the guts to tell him.
Yanking determinedly on the bottom of her fitted jacket, she turned on her heel and marched across the street to his table.
‘We need to get a few things straight.’
His hand dropped from his chin, ridiculously thick lashes shifting upwards as he looked at her with a confident calmness that made her want to slap him. ‘Pull up a chair…’
When he jerked his chin at the chair in front of her Roane frowned down at it, then looked back up, a thought sidetracking her. ‘You got changed.’
When she’d left him he’d been wearing the dark suit he’d looked so good in, now he was in jeans and a dark navy T-shirt that he looked just as good in. But she didn’t remember him having a bag with him.
How could one man look that good in every item of clothing he ever wore?
‘I picked something up.’ He reached over and pulled the chair out. ‘Sit.’
Roane had to move back a step to make room for it. ‘See, that’s one of the things we need to talk about—you can’t keep giving me orders. I don’t work for you.’
‘You’re on the Bryant payroll, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘Well, contrary to popular belief I’m still a Bryant, so therefore by default…’ he pulled the chair further out ‘…you do work for me. Sit.’
She didn’t want to sit. ‘If I worked for you I’d probably be looking into a harassment suit about now. I really don’t appreciate being talked to the way you talk to me. It’s—’
‘Rude; yes, you said. Don’t sit then. What do you want to drink?’
‘I don’t want a drink.’ She frowned at him when he looked around for a waitress.
‘Nothing quite like sitting outside with a cold one in New York City on a warm night, is there? Sit here long enough and you’ll see the world go by.’