Fierce Love

Home > Other > Fierce Love > Page 6
Fierce Love Page 6

by Danielle Stewart


  He smiled an out-of-place grin, and she tried to get a grip on what he wanted from her as he spoke. “Quite the contrary. I won’t get involved with an employee.” His voice was firm but in a low hiss, close to her ear, he said, “I don’t like messy strings attached. I’m saying you should quit, find another job you’ll be better at, and in celebration of your new job we could see what happens after that drink.” The smile that spread across his face was like nothing she’d ever seen before. His eyes danced with excitement and she was sure if she was brave enough to look down, his flat-front, tightly tailored pants would be stretched under the pressure of his eagerness. Their breaths seemed to match for a few inhales and exhales as the silence hugged in around them.

  “The job . . .” she quivered finally, “I can’t give up this job.” The corner of her eyes filled with tears, and she cursed her raw emotions and the quick way they flared. Most actresses worked tirelessly to learn to cry on cue. Libby had more trouble trying not to cry when her nerves were raw.

  James was backing away slowly, clearing his throat, and eyeing her as though he were greatly disappointed. “Then if you want this job so badly, go do it.” She watched him settle in behind his desk and fiddle with the knot on his tie as he dismissed her silently.

  “How can you consider this a fair option?” she asked, and the cracking in her voice made her angry. “I mean you’re basically telling me I’m going to suck at this job and I’m going to fail. Well believe it or not, some of us weren’t born with a silver spoon up our ass like you.” The words were banging into each other quickly as she felt the urgency of the situation grow. Split in half with desire and the weight of obligation to other people, he was leaving her with nothing. Give me this job or take me right here right now on your desk . . . But he wasn’t doing either.

  “I’m positive that’s not the saying,” he retorted with a reluctant laugh, leaning back in his chair as if to get a better look at the show she was putting on.

  “Whatever,” she huffed. “You’ve had everything handed to you. I can tell by the way you treated people yesterday.”

  “And how was that? I’m curious to hear what you think you saw yesterday.”

  “Just getting rid of them like they don’t matter,” her voice raised a few more octaves.

  “I didn’t fire a single person yesterday. They all left.” His smug reply, his response to things with fact and reason, did nothing for her right now. She wasn’t looking for logic.

  “Why would so many people walk out on you? Maybe you should ask yourself that.”

  “People left because they are afraid. Everything at West Oil will change, and many of them have been with the company for decades. They want things to stay the same.” More logic – didn’t he know that had no place in an argument? “I pegged you as far more passive than this,” he said, folding his hands together and resting them under his chin thoughtfully. “You have some fire in your belly, don’t you?”

  “I am normally passive,” she admitted with an unsteady voice. “I’m not quitting this job. And I don’t intend to get fired. And as for sleeping with you . . .” She lost the words as the train in her head derailed. The thought of his naked body hovering over hers completely cleared her mind of other thoughts.

  “As for sleeping with me,” he said, gesturing for her to continue.

  “I, well, I mean obviously,” she stuttered out as she gestured at his body. “Of course I want to, well . . . I mean, who would say no?” She clenched her fists in anger at herself as she regained composure. “I will not be quitting.”

  Nothing in her life had ever made her want to throw logic to the wind the way sleeping with James West did. It would cost her everything. The math should be simple, yet she still considered it might be worth it.

  “The people who walked out of this office yesterday,” he said, folding his arms over his chest and sounding very serious, “aren’t brave; they’re cowards. Brave would have been staying on, taking the risk, and working their asses off to make sure West Oil had a future. They took the easy way out, and I don’t need people like that on my team. I can appreciate your position, but sometimes it’s better to just give in to the inevitable. Don’t fight it.”

  With those words Libby remembered how West Oil had used the same argument to convince her mother not to pursue a lawsuit. This tactic was painfully familiar.

  “Like father like son,” she barked out angrily. “You’re a cold-hearted bastard.”

  His face read like it had been slapped and left stinging, her words clearly striking him. She waited for him to counter, to say anything, even kick her out. But he sat silently. His nostrils flared and his face grew red with apparent anger.

  “I will get you that meeting,” she insisted, tipping her chin up in defiance as she quickly left the office. Her body was equal parts repulsed by and drawn to him.

  James gripped the pen in his hands so tightly he could hear it cracking. Who the hell does she think she is? Liberty was plenty employable. Surely if she left her job here she could find something else quickly. There was no reason for her to cry about it. No reason to look so desperate while in the next breath turning him down and looking tortuously conflicted.

  Her giant warm eyes had glazed over with the hint of tears, and in an instant he wished he weren’t so damn compelled to help her. Fix whatever was wrong. It had happened. She’d activated that impossible-to-ignore mechanism in him that made him want to take the pain from her face. Any woman in trouble made him want to hop into action, but something about the way Liberty seemed to melt into deep conflict, fighting with herself, ate at him. Even with the deep insult she’d hurled at him, he couldn’t stop trying to analyze her aching reaction.

  It was all over her face. She wanted him. The blaze of pink that overtook her cheeks when they were together, the way she’d raised a hand up and touched him with such hunger. She was ready for his kiss. The only protest was the need for this job. A silly argument considering how qualified she seemed for a high level position.

  “What are you doing with her?” Mathew asked in frustration, stepping into his office a moment after Liberty had stepped out.

  “What do you mean?” James barked, in an equally annoyed tone.

  “Are you playing games? Is she just a toy or something you’ll get rid of eventually? We need a strong assistant. I’m sure she’ll be it, but not if you keep making a run at her and she shoots you down again and again.”

  “You don’t know shit, Mathew. She’s not cut out for this. That’s the difference between you and me. You hold out hope for people, and I face facts. Take a good look at her. Is she going to get us the meeting with Asher Barrington? Is she going to muscle her way into the places we need? She’s weak. She’s timid. I’m not saying she’s a bad person. I like her but we need someone fierce; that’s not her.

  “So fire her then,” Mathew shrugged, calling his bluff. And that’s exactly what it was. James wasn’t going to fire her. Not after she’d just pleaded for her job and left in near tears. Now all he wanted to know was what was ripping her up inside.

  “Start looking for someone else, and let’s see what she can do in the meantime,” James commanded. “Might as well get what we can out of her.”

  “I don’t think you’re going to get what you want out of her,” Mathew remarked coolly. “She doesn’t seem interested, which I know must be a foreign concept for you. I hate being around when you don’t get your way. It’s ugly.”

  James raised his arms and tucked them behind his head. “But you forget, after it gets ugly I always end up getting what I want.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “ Yes,” Libby shouted, pumping her fist in success. She’d finally snagged a meeting with Axel Elerond even though James was sure she wouldn’t be able to.

  “What are you celebrating?” James asked as he stood from behind his desk and rounded it to get closer to her.

  “I did it,” she said, tossing her arms around his neck before she had time to rea
lize how ridiculous it was. She gasped at her stupidity and made a quick move to step away, but his arms were around her holding her in place. Her breasts were pinned to him, the hard plane of his stomach, divided into ab muscles, pressed against her. With the slightest, nearly imperceptible arc of his back she felt his pants, filled with excitement, brush against her.

  A moan left his lips and she thought she might melt into a puddle, heat raging through her. They’d been dancing on this line and now their toes were creeping over it. A hug was all right. Yes. A congratulatory embrace by two willing coworkers wasn’t bad. But her body was insisting she grind against him, steal the pleasure greedily from his body.

  She’d been in such a heightened state of arousal in his presence that she knew a few well-placed touches would have her legs buckling. For a woman who always played it safe, this hug felt treacherous. Like she was hanging by one slippery hand off a cliff ready to let go and plunge into the danger below.

  “I don’t know what we’re celebrating, but I’m hoping it’s that you wised up and got another job so we can go back to my place and hug with less clothes on.”

  “Um,” Libby stuttered out, remembering suddenly that all these things could not happen at once. It was job or sex. Critically important financial security for her whole family or hot sex with a man who looked like he could deliver a handful of orgasms faster than someone could deliver a pizza. Dropping her arms and flushing with a mix of lust and embarrassment, she expected him to let her go. But he didn’t.

  Instead he spun her so her ass aligned with the top of his desk. He didn’t need to spread her legs, that happened on sheer instinct, and he responded by filling the gap instantly with his body.

  “You’re going to keep this up?” he asked, clutching her hips tightly. “Your willpower can’t be this good. No one’s is.”

  “I’m responsible,” she said, kicking her head back and gasping as he drove his body into hers. Pretending it was solely for the extra need for balance she clutched both his biceps.

  “Fuck responsibility. This will be worth it.”

  “I have an idea,” she said, digging her nails into his arms as he pushed his hardness against her warm, pulsing desire.

  “Oh yeah?” he asked, whispering hot breath into her ear.

  “You should quit,” she offered, leaning back just enough for him to see her coy smile. “Then I wouldn’t be your employee anymore. Problem solved.”

  “Are we not doing this right now?” he asked, his fingers dancing over the buttons on her shirt. “You know you want this. You want this so bad.”

  “I do,” she admitted, giving in to the need to rub herself against him. “And so do you. Just let me keep my job. Change your stupid rule.”

  “I—” she watched him draw back and clear his throat. James was not accustomed to showing weakness. Her calling him out for wanting her so badly had shifted the power between them and killed the moment that had been building. When he released her she felt colder than she’d ever felt in her life, like she’d fallen through an ice pond and her body would never warm again.

  “You are a complicated woman, Liberty.” He kept his lusty intense look fixed on her. “It’s pissing me off.”

  “And turning you on?” she asked, nibbling on her lip.

  “What were we celebrating with that hug?”

  Righting herself, coming back down from the sexual frenzy her body was in, she remembered why she’d been so happy. “You have a meeting with Mr. Elerond tonight.” She grinned. “It’s a little unconventional, but you wanted face time with him and now you’ve got it.”

  “How unconventional?” James asked with a skeptical glare, his eyes finally rising up from her breasts and fixing on her face. Libby had been working her ass off every waking minute, and so far she’d managed to keep up. But he always seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. And frankly, so was she.

  “He’s leaving on vacation with his wife and son in the morning. They’re celebrating his son’s bar mitzvah tonight. You are cordially invited to attend. The only catch is his wife can’t know you’re there on business or she’ll kill him.” She brought her hand up toward her face and could smell his cologne on her fingers. It would have only taken one brave leap and that dirty little hug would have been lit like a stick of dynamite. If she’d have kissed him. If he’d have torn open the buttons on her blouse. But it was becoming clear, neither one would be the first to give in. She had to admit, as stressful as her life was, there was something intoxicatingly pleasurable about this game they were playing.

  “I’m not going to some kid’s bar mitzvah in California tonight.” James was looking at her as though she’d just handed him a clown nose and told him to juggle.

  “Why not?”

  “For starters, I’m not a thirteen-year-old Jewish boy.”

  She tried to channel her disappointment over his reaction into assertiveness. “It’s tonight or ten days from now when they get back from vacation. When you and I discussed this it sounded as though the meeting couldn’t wait.”

  “It can’t,” he cut back.

  “I had a friend in junior high who was Jewish. I remember his bar mitzvah. I can make you a list of notes you need and have them ready for when you get on the jet.”

  “You’re coming,” he asserted, and she could see a glimmer of desperation in his eyes.

  “You’ll need to leave in an hour. I can’t get home and back with a bag in time. I can’t go dressed like this.”

  “Go buy something. You can use the company card, and I’ll have a car pick you up.” He was already back to work, tapping away at his computer and shuffling around a pile of paperwork.

  “You really want me to go with you?” A knot in her stomach tightened at the idea of his invitation. It was one thing to keep her desires at bay in an office full of other people. But traveling together, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stay in control.

  He didn’t answer, instead just picked up the phone on his desk. “Susan get the jet fueled up and ready to leave in an hour. Make sure there’s a suit on there for me. We’ll be flying through dinner so make sure the flight crew has a meal prepared and some champagne. Oh, and the suit needs to be something appropriate for a bar mitzvah.” He sighed as he listened to the person on the other end of the line. “Yes. A bar mitzvah.”

  “I’ll run out and grab a dress then,” Libby said as he hung up the phone.

  “Make it short.”

  “The dress?” she asked, her heart pumping harder in her chest, her body sizzling with desire.

  “Ha,” he barked a laugh. “I was talking about the trip to the store. But the dress can be short too. Though I’m not sure a room full of thirteen-year-old boys will be able to keep their heads from exploding at the sight of your thighs.”

  “Oh.” She blushed with hot red embers. “Of course I didn’t think you meant—”

  “Yes, you did. That’s exactly what you thought.” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I like the way you think.”

  She nibbled nervously at her lip as she thought of how to respond. “I’ll come,” she stuttered out. “I mean, I’ll come back here right after.”

  As she disappeared around the corner in a hurried walk he watched her body flush pink. He was not going to be able to keep this up. He couldn’t keep teasing her. Smelling her scent. Brushing close enough to feel her silky blouse against his skin. This game would need to end soon.

  CHAPTER 9

  James had to start using the label masochist soon if he kept torturing himself this way. He wanted Liberty more than any woman he’d ever desired in his life. There had been very few things he deprived himself of over the years, and his willpower was waning. Watching her saunter into his office every day only heightened his craving. For a man who always took what he wanted, he was finding this push and pull between them both exhilarating and torturous. Every time he thrust closer to her, she backed away, the familiar conflict raging in her face. Every time he moved an inch awa
y, showing some restraint against his longing, she was right there begging for it subtly again.

  Liberty was hell-bent on keeping this job even though he could see desire smoldering in her eyes. The way her breasts perked up every time they were close made it clear. But she wouldn’t crack. He’d pegged her as weak, but she kept showing her willpower. And it was driving him mad. Deep down he knew if he pressed her, if he really wanted this to end with her in his bed, she’d be there. He was still in control.

  “So that’s basically all you need to know about the party tonight,” she said, and he cursed her plump lips for being so delicious looking. A waft of her perfume carried in the air as she moved her arms.

  “You look like you’ve never been on a plane before,” he said, raking his eyes over the unease that had spread across her face upon take off.

  “Of course I have,” she retorted, waving him off. “I’ve just never been sitting next to a man whose name was written on the side of it.”

  “There are some perks to being a West.” He sighed, checking his watch to see how much longer before they landed.

  “Some?” she challenged, staring down at his gold watch. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like.” She fiddled mindlessly with the small plain gold chain around her neck.

  “My grandfather built this company from nothing. It’s in my genes to work hard and keep the success going. But you won’t hear me complaining about the four thousand dollar suits and the bath towels that feel like you’re drying yourself with a fuzzy lamb.”

  “Like I said, I can’t even imagine. I’m pretty sure my bath towels were a wedding present for my parents a lifetime ago. But I wouldn’t want the hassle that comes with all that money.”

  “Money doesn’t buy happiness,” James said in agreement. “But it buys these.” He slid a small wooden box over toward her. “These are $450 per pound, made from the finest dark chocolate from Venezuela and the second best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

 

‹ Prev