Fierce Love

by Danielle Stewart

  Suddenly she was off balance. As she wobbled, he moved closer and extended his arms, ready to catch her romantic-comedy style if she fell. Instead she braced herself against the worst possible thing: the industrial size coffee pot, blazing hot and spitting steam.

  “Shit,” she yelped, pulling her arm away but not quickly enough. He could see the delicate skin of her wrist turning from pink to red.

  “Here,” he instructed, grabbing her hips and effortlessly lifting her small body down from the chair, placing her directly in front of him, practically against his chest. She stared up at him expectantly, both of them breathing the same air for a moment, staring directly into each other’s eyes. Finally remembering her injury, he planted a hand on her hip as he guided her toward the sink. “Run it under cold water.”

  “I’m fine,” she whimpered, trying to shrug him off, but he didn’t let her go. He flipped the faucet on and gingerly pulled up her sleeve. He couldn’t tell what was softer, her skin or her cashmere sweater. Jumping slightly and pulling away when the water hit her burn, he held her there, moving her arm back and forth under the cold stream of water. His body jolted with desire as he stared down at her. “It’s all right. It doesn’t look too bad.”

  “It’s just been a tough day,” she sniffled but then shook it off.

  “That’s not a great sign, considering it’s not nine o’clock yet.” He laughed but she didn’t. The guilt writhed in his body as he remembered she’d probably be halfway home by now if he hadn’t been toying with her like a cat chasing an unwilling mouse.

  He breathed in the fruity scent of her hair and watched her try to gather her emotions up and stuff them down. It was an easy skill he’d mastered, but she wasn’t quite as proficient. “You know what I do on a hard day?” he asked in a husky whisper as he shook the bottle of Scotch in his free hand. Her eyes were fluttering up at him in this take me now gaze that was driving him wild.

  She looked like she needed to feel better. Like she needed this badly. “I drink and find a way to blow off some steam. I’ve got this bottle and an office door that locks.” One raised brow and a flash of his smile was normally all it took. The expectation that her lips would curl into a smile and her body would sink against his was dashed when she spoke.

  “I need to go,” she replied, nearly losing her breath. He saw her chest heave with desire. The idea of her growing warm and wet before his eyes was driving him wild. She was fighting it, talking herself out of it, and that only made him want her more.

  “You don’t need to,” he assured her as he took a long hank of her hair and moved it off her shoulder. His thumb lingered, running from her collarbone to her earlobe. “You don’t have to go. That’s not what you need.” Her clothes could be balled up on his office floor, and she could be sprawled across his desk calling out his name. This frustrating day they were having could be put on hold long enough for them both to get some release.

  “How do you know what I need?” she asked, with genuine curiosity, not sarcasm. As though she believed he really did have all the answers to her problems. He could see how fast she was breathing, how red her cheeks were. It took great force not to grab her hips tightly again and kiss her while grinding his firmness into her. A tug of her hair, a bite of her lip, that was all he could think of.

  “I make it a point to know what a woman wants and make sure she gets it. Your hard day can be a distant memory.” Like a lightning bolt of reality striking down his excitement, he realized one important question hadn’t been asked. “You don’t work here do you?” Her plans were to go home. That wasn’t something one of his employees would be doing right now. She didn’t have an employee badge, and she wasn’t dressed appropriately for work. The odds were in his favor.

  “I, well of course I do,” she replied quickly, twisting her face up in what he read as sudden anger, though he couldn’t determine the source of it. “Ugh, why am I still here? Mind your own business and take your cups. Get out of my way.” She finally turned so they were facing each other as she made a move to inch by his arms.

  His brows furrowed with confusion. Was she seriously turning down his offer? Dropping the bottle down to his side, he stood up straight but barely made room for her to pass. “What’s your deal?” he asked in a gravelly tone. The urge to back her against one of these walls and kiss her until her lip-gloss smeared blazed through his body.

  He felt himself stiffen uncomfortably against his slacks and adjusted his stance to mask it. She was turning him down. Saying she wasn’t interested and for some reason that made his body respond even more. The stress of this day was coursing through him, and she looked like the perfect release.

  This woman resembled an exotic flower. Her eyes, nose, and mouth all came to a delicate point at their ends, pixie like. Her lips were tantalizingly plump and a flash of a fantasy buzzed across his eyes. She was a mix of sexy and sweet that he hadn’t seen since college. But who the hell was she?

  “Let me by,” she said, flashes of anger dancing unconvincingly at the corner of her eyes. She may have had some place to be, but that didn’t mask the fire blazing between them. He could see it written on her face.

  “Fine,” he shrugged, turning his body sideways so she could move through. He was never one to trap a woman in a room she didn’t want to be in. But in all honestly, he’d never been alone in a room with a woman who wanted to leave him. He did the leaving. Maybe that was why he breathed in this woman’s perfume as she blew by him. Maybe that’s why he found himself fully turned on now. She’d seemed reluctant to face him, anxious to get away. He should have found her rude, but instead it was intriguing.

  “Boy I haven’t seen you shot down that hard by a woman before,” Mathew joked with a wide grin on his face as he stood in the doorway of the break room after the woman had left.

  “Does she work here?” he asked, knowing Mathew would have no more information than he did. “If she works here, I haven’t met her yet,” James snarled, grabbing two of the cups. “But if she does, once I do meet her properly she certainly won’t be taking that tone with me.” What he wasn’t saying was, if she didn’t work for him then she was fair game, and he intended to find out who she was and why she’d turned him down. He intended to have her. Because he wanted her, and he made it a point to always get what he wanted.

  “I don’t know,” Mathew shrugged. “Maybe you’re losing your touch.”

  “I didn’t get a chance to really touch her. If I had, the last thing she’d want to do was run away, trust me.”

  CHAPTER 2

  “ Focus,” Libby kept telling herself as she climbed the stairs to her friend’s apartment. This was no time to be lusting after some stranger. Her life was about to fall apart. Who cares how he’d blocked her path, and she’d nearly melted with desire? If he’d have locked the break room door behind him she might have forgotten every bad thing that had happened that morning. She might have yanked the blinds closed and fallen straight into him. God knows she could use some strong arms wrapped around her right now.

  As she conjured up the thought of him for the hundredth time she felt her body pulse with energy. Best she could tell the man had slid off the cover of a men’s fitness magazine and fallen right into a perfectly tailored gray suit made of the softest material she’d ever felt. His blond hair was styled neatly with gel, his face so cleanly shaven his skin glowed under the harsh fluorescent lights above him. If he stood still long enough he could easily be mistaken for a statue of a Greek god. And though at the time her problems and the burn on her wrist were painfully distracting her, she was pretty sure he’d propositioned her. Wasn’t that what he meant about his office with the lock on the door? She was out of practice dating and a complete novice at hooking up, but surely that’s what he had meant.

  She closed her eyes before knocking on Jessica’s door and imagined what would have happened if she would’ve said yes. Libby never indulged in anything impractical. She never put her own desire ahead of the people in her life
and what they needed. And right now those people needed her to not get fired from West Oil, even though the situation was complicated. Sleeping with that man, as good as it would have been in the moment, wouldn’t have accomplished what she needed, what everyone else needed from her.

  “Libby, you can’t be serious,” Jessica griped in an exhausted voice as she leaned her head against the frame of her front door.

  “You know I wouldn’t be here this early if I wasn’t in a bind. I’m desperate.” Libby batted her long lashes and clutched her hands together. She was not above begging.

  “I just got off work on the movie set like two hours ago. I’m a zombie right now. What could be so important?” The bags under Jessica’s brown eyes and the smear of her mascara made a compelling case for Libby to feel bad about waking her. But there wasn’t much room in her gut for guilt; it was nearly full to the top with anxiety already. What else were best friends for if not to save you from near disaster?

  “I got an email from James West, Jr. this morning saying there was a staff meeting, and I have to be there. I’m freaking out.” Libby ran her hand nervously through her long brown hair and swept it over one shoulder. The thought of how the stranger had moved her hair to the side, exposing her neck, flashed through her mind. “Like an idiot I went to the office to try to find my way around, and I realized everyone was dressed professionally. I went in looking like this.” Libby gestured down at her casual clothes as though she were wearing a dirty pillowcase and holey leggings, rather than the jeans and nice sweater she had on.

  “You’re not seriously going to go to the meeting are you?” Jessica asked, finally stepping aside and letting Libby into her small studio apartment. Jessica slid her thin frame back onto her bed and patted the edge for Libby to sit down. There was no couch, no dining room table; this was the only place to settle in. But Libby didn’t have time to sit.

  “I have to go to the meeting,” Libby spit out anxiously. “The email specifically said no one was exempt, and not attending could result in immediate termination. I can’t get fired.”

  “You don’t really work there,” Jessica argued into her pillow. “You’ve been collecting a paycheck from them for the last five years, and you’ve never stepped into the building before.”

  “That’s not true,” Libby reasoned. “I’ve been in the building before. That’s where I met with JW the first time, and I was in there again a half hour ago.”

  “Sorry, what I meant to say is you’ve never actually done a stitch of work for the company, but you’ve been taking their money. Now the old man had a stroke and the son is calling you in for a meeting. You can’t go. What if they want the money back? Does the new guy know anything about your arrangement? It’s not like you had a contract written up.” Jessica rolled over and pushed her messy black hair out of her eyes. “Just go home and see what happens.”

  “I can’t. You know I can’t. I need the money,” Libby said, flopping onto the bed. “If there is even a chance I can keep this going longer I need to. My mom is depending on me. So is my brother. Please help me.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Jessica asked, Libby’s pleas finally breaking down her hesitation.

  “Make me look like an executive assistant,” Libby begged. “You are one of the best makeup and costume design artists in Texas. Work your magic on me.”

  “Libby,” Jessica sang out sadly, “a nice suit and some pretty makeup will not be enough. You are a middle school drama teacher between jobs. You are not an executive assistant in a multi-billion-dollar company.”

  “It’s not my fault schools keep cutting the arts. That doesn’t change the fact that I’m an actress. A starving one maybe but an actress all the same. So I will act the part. I just need you to make me look the part. For all I know this is just some welcome meeting for the new boss, and I can slip back into oblivion and collect my pay check.”

  “And you’re fine with that? You, in good conscience, can keep this charade up?” Jessica was on her feet now, flipping open chests full of makeup and hair styling products. She might still sound reluctant, but Libby knew she’d have her friend’s help now.

  “Please help me,” Libby moaned. “You know this wasn’t my idea. I was twenty years old when this was all decided. If I had a say this wouldn’t have been my choice. But now it is what it is, and I have to keep it going for as long as I can without another job. You know what happens if this money stops coming.”

  “I know,” Jessica sighed, looking like she was surrendering. “Come sit here. Let’s get you all made up. I’ve got a power suit in my closet that should fit you. The skirt will be a bit short since you’re taller than me but maybe that will help your cause. I’ll curl your hair and do your makeup, but that will only get you so far. You need to play the part.” When Libby sank into the chair Jessica had unfolded, she felt her friend’s hands land firmly on her shoulders and tug them back. “You have to be strong. Hold your chin up high. Efficient. Effective. Don’t get pushed around. Look like you belong there.”

  “There was this man there this morning . . .” Libby started but then bit at her lip to stop herself.

  “Stop,” Jessica ordered, tugging her hair some. “No men. No office men. No distracting men getting in your head. If you’re going to do this, then do it with a clear mind.”

  “Thanks Jessica,” Libby whispered, looking up over her shoulder. “I knew I could count on you.”

  “I’m just brushing your hair; you need to count on yourself.”

  CHAPTER 3

  “That was a big morning,” a singsong voice called as a woman approached James’s office door.

  “Shit,” he whispered. James had shaken off a lot of women in his day. Lost their number. Ignored their text messages. But he should have known this woman would not let him off so easily. “Hello, Aunt Marissa.” He tried to paint on a surpised smile but she wasn’t having it.

  “Oh, stop it. Don’t you dare look happy to see me.” Her hair was pulled up in a messy knot and her makeup looked like it had been applied during a bumpy car ride. When he was a child she seemed mighty, now that he was an adult she barely came to his shoulder. The only things big about her anymore were her two-inch fingernails that sparkled with red polish. Her thin skin and tired eyes showed how the years had worn on her. Marissa hadn’t had an easy life, and James could see that very clearly now.

  His mother had been in and out of treatment for cervical cancer most of his adolescence, and people felt the need to step in and fill the void. Aunt Marissa, his father’s sister, was one of them, even though she had three children of her own. Over the years he’d been distanced from the family, but since his father’s stroke she’d persistently been calling his phone every few hours for a week. He should have known at some point she’d march in here.

  “I realize I missed a few of your calls,” he started but silenced when she scoffed loudly and plopped her heavy purse down on his desk unapologetically.

  “Sixty-one voice mails,” she barked. “That’s how many I’ve left for you. Then this morning I get a call that you’ve fired all of your father’s executive team.”

  “That’s not true,” James argued as though he were excusing away his late arrival after curfew. “I didn’t fire a single person. They all chose to leave when they heard the changes I’ll be making to West Oil in the coming months. I can promise you they were all given very generous severance packages.”

  He felt the heat from her unconvinced stare. “James,” she sighed as she finally sat down, “couldn’t you just come in and tread lightly? Couldn’t you start slowly?”

  “Have we met?” he teased and threw her the smile that always used to get him out of trouble when he was young. He could see it begin to work. “I don’t do anything slowly. I don’t tread lightly. I need you to trust me. Everything I’m doing right now is in the best interest of the future of West Oil. I didn’t want to see anyone out of a job this morning, but I will not settle for a team of people unwilling to evol
ve. That’s what put West Oil in this position in the first place.”

  “Even if I’m willing to trust you on this,” she started as she reached across his desk and touched his hand, “I still can’t come to terms with your unwillingness to visit your father in the hospital.”

  “He’d want me here,” James argued, not able to hold her stare. “The company has always been the most important thing to him.”

  “You were very important to him,” she corrected, but the way his eyes dimmed she knew he wouldn’t agree.

  “Which is why he sent me as far away from here as possible after Mom died?” James wasn’t able to beat back his words. At the core of all his disagreements with his father, he knew this was the heart of the issue. When his mother finally succumbed to cancer his father stripped him of his job with West Oil and tossed him out into the world with next to nothing. When he needed family the most, he was sent away. Sure they fought a lot, disagreed on every aspect of business, but he hadn’t seen it coming.

  “I never supported his choice to fire you from the company and send you away,” Marissa admitted. “But I know he loves you.”

  “The past is the past,” James offered hollowly, brushing off his brewing emotions. “All we can deal with is the here and now. It may look like I’m coming in here and demolishing things, but I have a plan. Each executive chose to leave. I meet with the lower level leadership next, and I do intend to retain them. I hope each of them make the right choice and stay on.”

  “You’ve been away from Texas too long,” she countered. “People here have pride the size of their houses, and they are not going to like you coming in and trying to change things. You were always so thickheaded,” she sighed. “And sweet. I hope you haven’t lost that part of yourself. I still remember how you took care of Cutter.” She held a hand over her heart as she thought endearingly of her youngest son. He was the runt of the family, and James didn’t like anyone picking on his little cousin. “Every time someone gave him trouble, you were right there.”