Lily stood, smiling with more warmth. “Thank you. You’re a fair man. I know you’ll handle this the right way.” As she reached the door, she glanced over her shoulder with a wry expression. “And thank you for wading into this mess with Curlew. Good luck nailing him.”
“Cheers.”
Chapter Four
Amber texted Kiki as she walked back to her cube.
Have to bail on happy hour—working on top secret emergency project. :)
Her phone chimed immediately in answer.
Shouldn’t that be :(? I’m bummed!
Me too—sorry! But good opp. AND working with AK! >:)
OMG! Bonus. Better than time and a half ;-) massage his timesheet for me! Don’t be stupid.
Don’t worry!
With a laugh, Amber locked the phone. No taking chances with letting someone see that particular exchange. A weekend of all Alexander Knight plus fab career opportunity. The fates had smiled on her today. Maybe the dress was lucky after all. She finished her QA of the meeting notes and filed them for the partners’ eyes only. Immediately after, the company IM popped up. Just seeing the “Alec Knight” and the close-lipped, somewhat arrogant smile in his profile pic gave her a shiver.
I have reserved the executive conference room through Monday morning. You can meet me there when you are ready. Perhaps bring your laptop.
She had to laugh at the formal, complete sentences. He couldn’t help himself, even on IM. Why the fishbowl though? Good thing he told her as she’d figured on his office. When she arrived, several stacks of files were laid out on the table, with a cartful nearby. Knight had one open and was making notes. He spoke without looking up at her. “We’ll put in a few hours tonight, if you’re good with that, order in some dinner, then start again in the morning.”
“Sounds good to me.” She set her laptop down.
“Not there.” He pointed at the other end of the long table. “Set up your workstation at the other end. No sense being crowded together.”
Hokay then. Maybe he was pissed about Lily backing him into having her help. He certainly sounded frosted. How perverse was she that the tone aroused her as much as it daunted? Both twisty sensations drove her to bait him with the next question. “Do you have instructions for me?”
He paused, the pen stopping its movement across the yellow pad, and he seemed to take a deep breath. But he didn’t glance up at her. Didn’t deliver one of those searing looks as she’d more than half hoped for. “Since I presume you’re better with databases, you’ll review those files—both Curlew’s working accounts on the shared drive and his officially filed ones. We’ll compare those against the hard copy documents. Look for any discrepancies, however small.”
“Do you care if I just pull everything into an Excel file? It might be easier to query the Access data for specifics and then cross-reference on worksheets.”
“That would be fine. Carry on.”
Since his “carry on” had a way of sounding like “shut up and let me work,” she set up in silence. It took time to search all of Curlew’s folders for relevant files. She didn’t really know the guy—other than that he worked on Lily’s team and seemed to be generally regarded as a golden boy. Not clear how he got that rep, judging by the state of his files. If someone asked her right this minute, she’d vote for disorganization and possibly incompetence as the reason for the shortfalls. The file names didn’t always specify the correct quarter. And some years seemed to be missing, or misfiled. Which shouldn’t be right.
At the other end of the table, Knight seemed to be completely absorbed in his task, reading through a file and taking notes with a silver fountain pen that echoed the shade of his gray suit. The man had beautiful hands. Hopefully he wouldn’t be annoyed if she interrupted him, but better that than to chase her tail in the wrong direction.
“Sir? Can I bother you?”
“What is it?” he replied, speaking to the file he read.
So chilly. So unreal the way that clipped tone turned her on. Mind on the job. “How far back in time are we going?”
“You were at the meeting—to the beginning. Is something unclear about that?”
“Yes, actually.” She must have sounded irritated because he lifted his head and met her gaze. For that bare instant, his eyes clawed over her, full of heat, as if twenty feet of glossy conference table didn’t stretch between them. She went hot, a little dizzy from the intensity. With the desire to push him, just a little. “I like to be clear on what you want from me,” she explained, mouth dry with her audacity, “so I give you exactly what you need.”
Across the rows of cubes outside the glass, the setting sun hit the point where its rays streamed in, making the room bright and stuffy at once. The waiting silence grew thick. Then Knight recovered himself, no longer staring at her mouth in that greedy way, icing it down with chilly formality. “Go back ten years then. Depending on what we discover, we’ll make decisions from there.”
“Well, that’s the thing. I don’t see ten years in the system. Looks like ’09 and ’10 are missing. Along with a few months of ’08.”
“Are you sure you’ve looked thoroughly?”
“Yes, I’ve looked thoroughly.” When he glared at her, she realized she’d echoed his accent, the way he said it, the way her Boston horse-mad cousin said “thoroughbred.” What in hell had gotten into her, to tease him like that?
“Is my accent amusing to you, Ms. Dolors?”
“I’m sorry, sir.” Shit shit shit. “I love your accent. I’m just frustrated that these files seem to be missing. I wasn’t...”
“Mocking me?” He filled in when she trailed off, managing to sound amused, threatening and sexual all at once.
She licked her lips, wishing her mouth hadn’t gone bone dry. His hard gaze followed the movement and she felt suddenly like a foolish rabbit taunting the wolf. But did the rabbit ever feel this desperate unwholesome desire to be gobbled whole? He stood and, eyes still on her, pulled off his suit jacket, then tossed it over a chair. In his vest and white dress shirt, he strode down the table, eyes hard and bright.
Unable to bear it—both the dreadful hope and rush of frantic apprehension—she stared at her screen and the unhelpful files. He set his hand on the table next to her keyboard, silver cufflink catching the light. “Well?” he demanded.
“Um...no. I wasn’t mocking you. I—”
“Not that.” He cut her off. “Show me what you’re seeing.”
It wasn’t exactly a relief, especially with him looming over her, the scent of his subtle aftershave wrapping around her as his lean fingers restlessly tapped on the glass-topped table. And, she realized after a few minutes, he wasn’t angry with her, but rather at the missing files. He asked questions, yes, in that clipped tone, as she walked him through the organization—and lack thereof—and showed him the parallels in the files from another of Lily’s team.
“Suspicious holes then,” he mused. “This is beginning to shade towards deliberate obfuscation. Well done.”
The note of warm approval made her flush and she had to drag her mind away from how it might feel to have those elegant long fingers, so close to hers on the table, stroke her skin. She was sweating under the cardigan and wished she could take it off. “How do you want me to handle the missing files?”
“For the time being create blanks for any missing months—can you do that? I want it to be clear those numbers are absent, not counting as zero balances, you understand me.”
“Yes. That makes sense. I’ll set it up that way.”
“The rub is, it will make the job more difficult.” He paused. “How late can you stay tonight? I’ll see that you get home safely.”
“As late as you need me to.” She bit her tongue on saying something like “all night, if you ask me.”
“Do you
need to call someone?” His voice, while still polite and professional, had a deeper tone to it. “A boyfriend, perhaps.”
She risked a glance at him, leaning so close. Smiled. “No boyfriend.” Was it her imagination or did he look pleased by that? Was he about to touch her? But his eyes cooled, going flinty.
“Pity that.” He stood straight, breaking the spell, and returned to his end of the conference table. Pausing there a moment, he unfastened his cuff links, tossing them with bright clinks onto the glass table surface, and rolled up his cuffs to reveal lean, tanned forearms dusted with dark hair. Irresistible.
“Why is that a pity? Do you have a girlfriend?”
His narrow lips twitched and he slanted her a reproving look. “I suppose I deserve that. Very well—no poking into each other’s personal business. It will be a long weekend. We may as well buckle down and focus.”
Oh yeah. That was going to happen. But she did her best to put her attention on the rows of dry numbers and not on her enticing boss.
* * *
He was in a hell of his own making. Perhaps a weekend of this torment would go some ways toward expiating his many failures. He’d chosen the executive conference room—far more space than they needed—to remind himself that they were on display in their roles in the company. That he, in particular, had standards to uphold and responsibilities to both his partners and everyone under him to behave correctly.
But even putting her at the other end of the room wasn’t far enough.
She shifted, sighing in some exasperation at her computer screen and, without taking her attention off of it, began unbuttoning that ridiculously prim cardigan. She shrugged out of it and wiped her brow, full breasts straining against the rosebud-sprigged silk of her dress.
Amber might look sweet and unspoiled, with her fair skin and girlish curls, but she possessed the sensual impact of a siren. Worse, she must have sniffed out his interest because she was definitely flirting with him. Offering up those wide-eyed blue glances and barbed offers. He wanted nothing more than to turn her over his knee and spank her silly until she apologized, then bury himself between her pretty thighs until she gasped out his name.
Bloody hell. He scrubbed a hand over his scalp and glanced at the wall clock. They’d only been working a few hours. Not possible to endure an entire weekend alone with her. How upset would she be if he simply fired her? Maybe not too badly if he then seduced her, stripping her out of her dress and making her purr. He’d find her some other opportunity, some other company, and perhaps explore with her just how much she’d enjoy being given very precise instructions and corrections.
Her gaze flicked up, catching his, the computer screen light making the deep blue of her eyes glow. “Getting hungry?” she asked.
It took him a damnably long time to come up with the correct reply. Not for her, you fool.
“Yes. It’s half past eight. Shall we call out for something?”
“I’ll grab the menus.” She stood and stretched, arching her back, and he forced himself to look away. Not to watch the graceful sway of her hips as she walked out, the long, gleaming curls reaching to her waist. Not to picture how they’d look with her naked, maybe with a black collar and cuffs to set off all that white skin. Not to wonder if she’d be as passionately responsive as he imagined.
And—just fabulous—he’d got a hard-on from that image.
Pushing the file away in an abrupt gesture, he headed to the executive washroom. What in the hell was wrong with him? Of course he wouldn’t fire her just to have the opportunity to have an affair. Human Resources would have a field day with that one, even if he sank so low as to do it. Which he wouldn’t. Neither would he transfer her to Lily’s team. He would suck it up and banish these thoughts of her. Find another woman, or several, to indulge his vices. Wasn’t this the conclusion he’d come to only the night before? Denied too long, he’d simply built up a head of steam for his favorite kind of sex.
He’d never much cared for the clubs—making a public display of an intimate exchange—and had only gone because Tessa had wanted to. But this situation sealed it. If he couldn’t control his thoughts around a naïve young woman in his employ, then he needed to take steps. Not unlike visiting the dentist once a tooth has grown so painful it can’t be ignored.
With grim purpose, he locked himself in the washroom and set about taking care of immediate release.
And, if he let himself picture the lovely Amber as he did so, none would be the wiser.
After—which did not take long—he felt more clear-headed and able to settle. More proof that he’d simply bottled up too much and Amber had been the convenient target. He could handle this.
Then he walked back into the conference room to see her perched on the table, elegant legs crossed and idly kicking the top foot as she perused a menu. She gave him that radiantly fresh smile and cocked her head. For a breathless moment it seemed she might be about to say something about what he’d been up to. Good orgasm, Alec?
“Burgers, Italian or Chinese?”
“What’s your preference?” For something to do, he picked up a cheaply xeroxed Chinese takeout menu. “Pity we’ve no one on account that delivers a decent curry.”
“What is with you Brits and curry, anyway?”
“You wouldn’t ask that if you’d had a good London curry on a foggy, rainy night.” He found himself smiling back at her, she looked so rapt.
“Do you miss London?”
“Now and again. Some aspects, yes. Others not so much. I like New York and I’d the opportunity to get some distance I needed.”
She shook back her hair, honey curls sliding over silk. “Distance from what?”
Oh no, darling, not going to sucker me into a personal conversation. He tossed down the menu. “Since it’s the company dime, I vote Italian. Order me the veal piccata and a Caesar salad. And a large espresso.”
She didn’t take umbrage at his abruptness, pretty mouth curving in a knowing smile. “And for dessert?”
“Mountains of paperwork.” He sat, found his place in the file.
“They have cannoli.”
“Fine.”
“Yay!” She hopped down from the table in a rustle of silk and went to her phone, laughed softly at some message she saw there, the sound both sweet and arousing. Then she was all friendly efficiency, exchanging pleasantries with whoever took the order, promising to meet in the lobby when they rang up and giving the company account.
“Did you just order the same thing I did because you wanted it or because you’re being careful?” He couldn’t help asking as he made a note about a client letter from 2004.
“Caught me.” She had a smile in her voice. “It seemed impolite to order anything more expensive, but if I ordered something cheaper, then I’d be missing out on the best I could have. Besides, easier on them for me to order two of everything.”
“Indeed.”
“Is that...okay?” She sounded more tentative. She was a fascinating blend of brash confidence and that delightful earnestness.
He made himself give her a reassuring smile. “Of course. Now tell me what you’ve found for 2004.”
Chapter Five
They finally stopped around eleven, though she could have kept going for hours, as revved as she was on sugar and high-voltage caffeine. Still, Alec called it quits, suggesting a fresh start at seven. She’d have preferred to keep going and start later, but he insisted on seeing her safely home, as he’d be using the car service regardless.
Definitely an improvement over the subway, to have the sleek silver car waiting out the front doors for them, complete with driver who opened the car door for her. She ordered them for him regularly, but rarely enjoyed the benefit. Knight asked for her address and relayed it to the driver through the open window. A shelf attached to the partition held
a small television screen and a rack of current business magazines and the morning’s Wall Street Journal. Also the London Financial Times, with its distinctive salmon-colored pages. Picking up the latter and clicking on a reading light, he proceeded to completely ignore her. But then walked her to the front door of her building when they arrived.
“You know,” she said, “I come home late by myself all the time.”
“Yes, but at the moment you’re my responsibility.” Though he didn’t smile, he had a teasing note in his voice. “Besides which, I thought it best to ensure that you went home and not out dancing, so you’ll be in top form in the morning.”
“Slave driver.”
“You have no idea. But I’ll bring breakfast.” He nodded to the doorman, swept his jacket back from his narrow hips and tucked hands in pockets. “I’ll watch you in.”
So old school in some ways. Gentlemanly, but more in a paternal way than a romantic one. Turning in the elevator, she could see him out on the sidewalk still, idly chatting with the doorman, eyes on her. As the doors snapped shut, she caught a glimpse of that wolfish hunger on his face.
He was definitely a hot-and-cold kind of guy. One moment she could swear he was about to go for a kiss—or far more—the next he’d be back to his icy reserve. Maybe the age difference worried him. Or the whole work thing. Which, really, she should be thinking about more than she was. Still, if he translated that tendency to be masterful in the office to the bedroom...the job might be totally worth it. She could have drinks with all the Gregs in Manhattan and never meet a man like this one.
What if Alec had experience that way? The possibility pretty much rocked her world to contemplate. Maybe she wasn’t just spinning kinky fantasies about her boss but picking up on a vibe. It certainly got to him when she said suggestive, submissive things to him. What would it take to push him into revealing a bit more?
Under His Touch Page 4