by Ava McKnight
He was the only one aside from her who preferred formality. The third-generation CEO of MII was pushing seventy and wore three-piece suits with power ties. Except when the occasion warranted a tux, as was the case this evening.
He said, “I know it was a bit of a drive up to the mountains from Scottsdale, but it seemed like a festive place to celebrate our first quarter of the new year.”
“Sure beats wrapping twinkle lights around a cactus.” Her gaze swept through the gorgeous dining room. A large four-sided, glass-enclosed fireplace with roaring flames served as the centerpiece. Amber and sienna ribbon draped the mantel, and oversized pinecones and tall pillar candles added to the warm decorations. One could forget the weather edged triple digits in the valley when immersed in the brisk climate at this higher altitude.
A glossy black grand piano sat off to the side, a tuxedo-clad pianist tickling the ivories with upbeat, classical music.
“The view is perfect for the evening too,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting an extended winter.”
Out of the floor-to-ceiling windows and patio doors was a clear shot down the long, wide event lawn, lined with tall, fluffy pines glistening with a light coat of fresh snow. The majestic San Francisco Peaks sat at the end of the event lawn—farther into Flagstaff, of course, but appearing as though they truly were situated close enough to be a part of the estate landscape.
A near-full moon hung over the shoulder of the white-capped mountain range and the large orb glowed vibrantly. Fat flakes fell from the sky, glittering in the moonlight and enhancing the ambience.
McClellan asked, “Are you staying at Little America, or the Radisson?”
“Neither, actually. I rented a vacation home here in Forest Highlands that looks like a small ski lodge. Thought I’d spend the weekend curled on the sofa in front of a toasty fire.”
“Reading a book, I hope.” He gave her a pointed look.
She smiled. “No, I have files to review this weekend.”
Nothing new there. As a Director of Accounts, as Chase was as well, Cassidy had a plentiful and diverse portfolio of industrial risk clients to manage. She had her hands full keeping everyone happy.
“Well, at least enjoy the evening. And try to get some fresh mountain air.” He smiled at her.
“I will. And thank you for your generosity. The party and the quarterly bonus.”
“You deserve them. We’ve already had phenomenal profit gains this year. With your zero-percent client turnover and Mr. Logan’s accounts acquisitions, I consider both of you significant contributing factors to our positive bottom line.”
“I appreciate hearing that.”
“Tonight is meant to show my gratitude, and the Board of Directors’, for everyone’s hard work and dedication.”
McClellan was not one to spare any expense. The lavish party was the epitome of the word excessive—what with the fancy decorations, free-flowing champagne and booze, and the gourmet appetizers. They hadn’t even gotten to the formal sit-down dinner portion of the evening and the guests were already in awe.
In addition, she’d heard the CEO had hired Escalades to drive the partygoers staying in town to and from the country club so they could imbibe without having to get behind a wheel. Of course, that was likely a business decision. The man was in insurance, after all.
“Again, have a nice time,” he said to Cassidy before he joined a large group farther into the dining room.
Chase extracted himself from his conglomeration—big man on campus that he was—and came back over, carrying two champagne glasses.
“You realize you strut?” she asked.
He grinned, flashing his pearly whites. His eyes glowed under the soft lighting. “I consider it more of a casual saunter.”
“Naturally. And you know you’re all that, don’t you?” she said in an amused tone.
He chuckled. “I just like the way you look at me when I head straight toward you. Like your breath catches or something.” He handed over the glass, then took her in from hair to shoes in one slow visual assessment that left him shaking his head and letting out a low hiss of breath. “Damn, Cass. You really are stunning.”
“No need to flatter me. I’m not having sex with you tonight.”
One sandy brow lifted. “Tonight? Hmm, that leaves the door wide open.”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “You just don’t give up.” His heated gaze made her glance away. She knew better than to encourage him. Worse… “Now we have an audience. And people headed for the food.” She gave him a polite smile, leaving flirty Cassidy behind and returning to her professional self. “Thanks for the bubbly.”
She walked past him and joined Meg at a round table for eight, done up with a floor-length white tablecloth and a shorter sparkling golden overlay, shimmering votives and a tall, bushy-topped floral arrangement that personified pomp and circumstance.
She greeted her dinner companions, who then stood and made their way to the hors d’oeuvres station once the server had delivered their champagne.
Meg appeared to be chomping at the bit and jumped right in, with a coy look on her pretty face, a glint of excitement in her pale-green eyes and a hint of suggestion in her sultry tone. “What was that all about with Chase? Spill!”
Cassidy spread the terrine on a piece of baguette and ate it. She let out a low moan. “Oh Jesus. That’s good.” The foie gras made her toes curl. Add that to myriad sensations running rampant through her body—thanks to Chase—and it was a wonder she didn’t orgasm right then and there. No begging necessary.
“Please tell me the two of you plan to hook up this evening.”
Cassidy swallowed. “What is wrong with you people?” Her eyes bulged. “I can’t sleep with someone I work with.”
“It’s not as though you work for each other. You’re equals. You have the same boss, same position, same title, same office configuration with the same amount of windows. The same damn view. You probably even make the same salary.”
Her stomach twisted with dismay. “Not a chance in hell. I have a vagina, remember?”
“That’s true.” Meg had no choice but to concede the point. She also dealt with the gender discrimination and the sometimes caveman behavior from the male executives. Especially with her being so pretty and perky.
But despite the women not making as much as the men in the business, they were all paid extremely well. One of the fringe benefits. ’Course, the exclusive parties, the bonuses and the stellar health and dental plans helped as well. Not to mention all the other reimbursement programs and surprise tickets to sports games, movie premieres and cultural events frequently bestowed upon them.
Cassidy had never felt underappreciated at MII. The problem was, a glass ceiling still existed for female executives, of which there were pathetically few. The old boys’ network still thrived in this particular industry.
She’d even heard the bigwigs in Legal handed their overcoats and umbrellas to their young, attractive assistants, who hung them up and then brought in coffee and the morning paper. In this day and age. And an occasional “accidental” brush of a hand against an ass cheek, or the sweep of an elbow along the outer swell of a breast—for a job well done as much as for discreetly copping a feel—was rumored to be part and parcel where some were concerned.
Cassidy shook her head. As she glanced around the dining room and observed the men flirting with their assistants, and the ladies batting their eyes in return, she said, “We’re a company-party episode of Mad Men.”
No wonder the show didn’t offend her when she caught up on the series via Netflix. This was practically her life.
“With one major difference,” Meg said. “The lead character isn’t a manwhore.”
“You don’t think Chase is Don Draper material? Seriously? Because, let’s face facts, he’s gorgeous. Disarming. Aggressive.”
“With you, he’s aggressive. And you love it.”
She couldn’t lie to herself on that one. As she’d considered
earlier, she found his outrageous behavior titillating. Exhilarating, even. In addition, Cassidy was not easily offended by such overt flirtations, hence the reason she didn’t catalog anything Chase said as harassment. Well, that and the fact that in order for it to be true harassment, it had to be unwanted or hostile attention. It wasn’t. And Cassidy was no hypocrite.
Moreover, she’d been around this business a long time and didn’t think twice about the locker-room talk—came with the male-dominated territory.
Meg broke into her thoughts. “According to Grace”—who was Chase’s assistant—“his social calendar is mostly nights out with the dudes. He never asks her to order flowers or make romantic dinner reservations or get tickets to the opera. From what she has to say, it sounds as though he doesn’t date at all.”
Cassidy scoffed. “I find that extremely hard to believe.” Her gaze landed on Chase, yucking it up with a group of Pacific and Southwest regional adjusters.
“Why?” Meg asked in a suddenly serious tone. “He doesn’t look at other women in the office the way he does you. He doesn’t hang around their desks. In fact, he typically sends Grace to deliver or retrieve field, engineer and loss reports. But he always makes it a point to bring them to you himself. He bypasses me completely. And… I don’t know.”
Meg smiled, almost enviously. Making Cassidy cringe. She understood that any single, red-blooded woman would enjoy being pursued by such a sexy, successful man. And in a lot of respects, Cassidy did consider herself lucky that she’d caught Chase’s eye. But she wasn’t his type—she just couldn’t fathom why he continually hit on her.
Perhaps because she perpetuated the flirtation rather than shutting him down completely? Or was he just bound and determined to crack the nut, so he’d get a few slaps on the back and high-fives at the office from his crew?
She frowned. He didn’t seem like the sort who’d brag about scoring with her. And Meg was right. Cassidy never saw him flirt with any other women at MII. But…why her?
Once again, Meg interrupted Cassidy’s wayward thoughts, saying, “There’s something fascinating about the way he watches you. Like he’s got one eye on you even though he’s engaged in conversation or work. It’s kind of territorial—which is damn sexy. And sort of protective—which is downright heart melting.”
Cassidy’s eyes narrowed. “Why would the word protective come to mind?”
Meg’s head cocked to the side. “Please. You are so sweet and innocent. It’s a natural instinct for an alpha like Chase.”
Cassidy laughed.
Meg did too. “Okay, semi-sweet and semi-innocent. You know what I mean.”
“You’re about to mention the fact that I don’t date, either. You needn’t. I don’t have time, Meg.”
“You’re supposed to make time, Cassidy.”
“Can’t. I started at the gym a few months ago, remember? Stress management. That’s what I do in my spare time.”
Her brow lifted. “Spare time?”
“Stop ribbing me about my hours.”
The rest of their tablemates returned and the conversation shifted to things other than Cassidy’s lack of a social life…and Chase Logan.
A four-course dinner followed. Cassidy was stuffed to the gills but couldn’t pass up the chocolate crème brûlée. She’d jog a couple extra miles in a blizzard if she had to, in order to compensate for the decadent evening.
After the tables were cleared, McClellan presented his customary State of Affairs address to much applause, because the company continued to prosper. Then he invited everyone to stick around for more drinks and dancing.
Cassidy hedged. She couldn’t decide whether to stay or go back to the rented house, so she took her second glass of champagne to the ladies’ room to freshen up and consider her options. On the one hand, she had work to dive into. Sooner rather than later would be good. On the other hand…
Noise from the dance floor filtered into the bathroom and it sounded as though everyone was having a grand time. A DJ had replaced the pianist and the music was loud and lively.
When was the last time she’d danced? Maybe her high school prom ten years ago?
Hmm. Sad sentiment. Yet Cassidy didn’t get out and about to clubs for a reason. She didn’t date for a reason.
Chase had nailed it when he’d said life was one big cliché. At least, for her it was. She’d always been the girl every guy claimed he wanted to take home to the parents and then settle down with…but that hadn’t happened yet. And how could it? She was also the woman who’d only twice gotten past a first date. That had been a long time ago, in college.
Since then, how many times had she gone through the I had a great time. Let’s do it again. I’ll call you. routine? Only to wait the standard three days and… No phone call.
It’d actually become an expected thing. The last couple of dates she’d gone on, she’d barely been able to muster a smile on her doorstep when she heard those three little words meant to inspire hope, because she’d known, innately, her number would magically disappear from her date’s contacts list before the clock even struck midnight.
She’d experienced this so often that she no longer bothered smiling and batting her lashes to catch a man’s eye. For that matter, she usually didn’t bother with eye contact, unless working with a client or colleague and needing to prove her mettle. She did nothing to encourage romantic attention.
And yet Chase continued to pursue her.
Surely that was only because bad boys liked to fluster good girls. Get them all worked up, because they enjoyed the challenge of trying to tease them out of their panties.
Christ, she really was a cliché.
Not that it mattered in the grand scheme of things. Cassidy didn’t have time for sexy flings. And she especially didn’t have time to nurse a broken heart when hers got trampled by someone along the lines of too-hot-to-handle Chase Logan.
She worked hard and was great at her job—it was a natural calling for her, particularly given her father, three uncles and brother all worked for an industrial risk insurer in Hartford, Connecticut. A competitor, yes, but she’d not gone to work there. Cassidy hadn’t wanted any preferential treatment or cries of nepotism if she were at the same company. She’d wanted to make it on her own in this profession.
Her personal merit meant more to her than anything. Her mother had taught her that—a woman who’d had everything handed to her on a silver platter, first from her doting father and then from her head-over-heels-in-love husband.
Despite being the apple of both men’s eyes and having so much offered to her, Christine Reynolds had wanted to be a hands-on, loving mom and a successful career woman who did not rely on housekeepers, nannies, or someone else’s finances. She’d been good at life balance. In fact, with her mother’s steadfast and tenacious personality, Cassidy had been shocked—and devastated—when her mother had lost the breast cancer battle many years ago. Though, she was still Superwoman in Cassidy’s eyes.
And she knew that, were her mother alive today, she’d tell Cassidy to lead a more robust and fulfilling life.
Who says excelling at your profession can’t fulfill you?
She conveniently ignored the pang of loneliness that ripped through her.
Leaving the ladies’ room, she decided to head to the rental. As she passed a small group of VPs, one of them flagged her down.
“Have a drink with us!” Blaine Morgan bellowed.
They all headed to the bar. She trailed along, always grateful to be a part of their group, rather than being the outcast “chick” in their world. The other, older female execs didn’t always play nice with the men, instead sometimes giving attitude because they knew equality was not the order of the day at MII. In Cassidy’s opinion, being a stick-in-the-mud didn’t help their plight any.
They bellied up to the bar. Chase happened to be there. So her luck.
He grinned. “Just can’t stay away.”
“I’m not here for you. Blaine invited me.”<
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He shot a look at the man on the other side of Cassidy. Blaine instantly engaged in conversation with his cohorts.
Meg had been right. Chase did have a territorial glint in his eyes, and it actually intimidated Blaine.
How surreal.
And exciting.
“So what are you drinking?” he asked.
“Just champagne. I’ve got some work to do.”
“Tomorrow,” he insisted. “We haven’t gotten stupid drunk yet. And I’m dying to get you on the dance floor. Slow number, of course.”
“I don’t dance.”
He grinned. A half-assed, lopsided one that sent a thrill down her spine.
Oh the wicked things he did to her! Did he know? Was that why he kept coming back for more rejection from her?
Although… She never actually did reject him.
Maybe it was time to set the record straight, for both their sakes.
She leaned in close, so only he could hear her, and said, “Chase, I know this game. You want me because you’ve never had me. If you did, you wouldn’t want me anymore.”
He smirked at her. “Little too easily dissected, Cass.” He pinned her with a hot look that ignited her insides. “Try this reality instead. I’ve got a healthy libido, but no one gets me going the way you do. And I haven’t even laid a hand on you.” His eyes glowed in the most sinful, tantalizing way as he added, “Yet…”
Chapter Two
Chase watched as Cassidy seemed to process his words. He’d stunned her into silence, and it made him want to chuckle. He held it back, instead saying, “I don’t know what it is about you, babe.” He kept his tone low, their conversation private. “The tall, curvy body. The dark-chocolate hair with the plump curls. The hypnotic amber eyes. The vibrant smile. The soft laugh. The quick wit. The even quicker brain.”
He shook his head. She still didn’t say a word.
Chase continued. “I’ve fantasized about you naked and wet for me from the first day we met.”
She gasped. He grinned. Albeit a strained one.
His cock sprang to life at the visual in his mind that matched his previous words. Cassidy Reynolds sprawled across his California king, her breasts bare, her legs spread. She’d be wet for him. He’d make sure of it.