Doing his best to let the sting of her potshot roll off his back, he stretched and yawned. She really didn’t know anything about him and now wasn’t the time to let his personal feelings get the best of him.
“Bor-ing! The last time I checked, this was a city thriving with young working professionals, not the muffin-loving families of suburbanites. It’s time for Mama’s to get with the millennium.”
“It’s not going to happen,” she argued, shaking her head.
“Not with an attitude like that,” he shot back. Damn, she was stubborn. He scanned the room, searching for a nonexistent ally. “Are you all really so afraid to try something new? Because I’m here to cure you of that fear.”
Olivia tipped her head to the ceiling and took a deep breath. He would have bet his partnership she was counting to ten in her head as she fought for composure. It was kind of cute how she got all flustered when she was angry.
“Hear me out,” he suggested, trying a more diplomatic approach. He had to get Olivia on board if he was going to stand a chance with her team, and right now not a single one of them was willing to even make eye contact. “Mama’s got a muffin for every occasion: you’re fired, breakups, the morning after…”
“Genius.” Olivia slid off the table. She circled Cole as though she smelled blood in the water, her lips curled back in a devious smile. “Maybe Mama can even add some new muffins to the menu. Let’s see. How about ‘It’s Not Me, It’s You’, the ‘Coyote Ugly’, and maybe a ‘Trump’ for good measure? They’ll be all the rage.”
Nervous laughter filled the room. Her team sat idly in the crossfire, enjoying the show, but he wasn’t going to rise to the bait. He’d never allowed his emotions to rule him in the boardroom and he wasn’t about to start now. Besides, if he was honest with himself, he kind of liked this fiery side of Olivia. She brought the same passion to the office that she brought to the bedroom.
Pritchard had been dead on in his assessment of her: smart as a whip with a tongue twice as sharp. He liked how she wasn’t afraid to challenge him. Still, that didn’t mean he was going to allow her to push him around. He had a reputation to uphold.
“Cute, Olivia, but I’m serious. We need a fresh angle.”
“That may be,” she said with a snicker, “but I don’t think morning-after muffins are what Mama had in mind when she asked us to begin working on a new campaign.”
“Do you have a better suggestion?” He smiled, revealing the dimple that had helped him win more arguments than he could count. “Because I’m telling you, Mama’s needs an edge and we are going to give it to them.”
“Mama’s is my account, and I’ll make that decision,” she challenged, daring him to disagree. Realizing he’d pushed her too hard already, he remained silent. The tension in her shoulders, the angry tilt of her head, and the frustration in her eyes said it all. Now wasn’t the time to pull rank on her. She’d stood her ground, gone head-to-head with him, but she was clearly feeling raw about the whole thing. “Let’s call it quits for today, everyone. We can regroup tomorrow, but keep brainstorming. It’s time to show Mr. Bennett what we’re made of.”
Chapter Eight
Olivia crammed her notes into the Mama’s Muffins file, hoping to make a hasty exit on the heels of the junior associates, who were rapidly funneling into the hall. The last thing she wanted was to be left alone with Cole, the cocky, arrogant jerk-face who seemed hell-bent on torturing her.
Who did he think he was, bashing her team like that, anyway? She wouldn’t stand for it. Her team worked hard, and they deserved respect. She slammed the file closed and clutched it to her chest as she headed for the door. She could think of one or two places he could stick his new angle.
“Olivia?” Cole’s voice cut through the silence, freezing her in her tracks, halfway to the door, but no escape in sight. “Do you have a few minutes? I’d like to speak with you.”
She considered lying. She could tell him she had another meeting, but what would be the point? He’d just hunt her down later. Better to face the music now and get it over with. No doubt he was pissed about the large dose of “your ideas are shit-tastic” attitude she’d given him. Not that he didn’t deserve it. He deserved all of that and more as far as she was concerned.
Still, it wasn’t like her to go for the throat. She prided herself on being levelheaded and professional, but Cole was just one of those people who pushed her bitch-buttons. She hardly knew the man, but there was all this stuff between them, and she just couldn’t let it go. Not yet anyway.
“Sure, I’ve got a few minutes,” she conceded, glancing at her watch before returning to her seat at the head of the table. Dread settled in the pit of her stomach, but she flashed him the warmest smile she could muster, given the circumstances.
“Is there a problem?” With narrowed eyes, he watched her intently and waited for the answer. Even with that accusing stare and wrinkled brow, he was a handsome man, a fact Olivia silently cursed as she reminded herself this was strictly business and this man had stolen her partnership.
“A problem?” she countered, shifting her face into a mask of confusion. She could play the dumb blonde people expected her to be, just this once. It beat the hell out of telling him what she really thought, since the landlord wasn’t likely to accept a pink slip for next month’s rent.
“Let me put it another way.” He dragged his fingers through his tousled hair, looking frustrated himself. She was reminded of the gentleness of those hands and the pleasure they’d given her. The very thought sent her traitorous pulse soaring. Why couldn’t she just forget about that stupid dare? “I think you’re letting your personal feelings for me color your judgment here.”
“Excuse me?” Anger sparked low in her belly, threatening to explode in a slew of four letter words that would make her own father blush. “My personal feelings for you? Are you really that much of a self-involved asshat?”
Cole shrugged, looking nonplussed. “What else am I supposed to think?”
Evidently he wasn’t quite sure what to make of her childish name-calling, so he just ignored it altogether. Of course, Mr. Perfect was above that, too. Probably for the best, she thought, as she counted to ten, trying to get a grip on her temper.
“You know Mama’s campaigns are stale and outdated, yet you refuse to even listen to my ideas.”
“Look, I get it. You’re new here and you want to make a name for yourself, but I won’t have you doing it at the expense of my team.” She sighed and crossed her arms, unsure of why she was even arguing with him. He was being completely impossible. “Did it occur to you for even one minute that my team is the best in this office, and those brainstorming sessions are a critical factor in our success? Award-winning campaigns don’t just drop out of the sky, you know. Like people, sometimes ideas have to be nurtured, molded, and crafted. Instead of tearing the team down, you could have helped me guide them in the right direction in a more collaborative fashion.”
Cole studied her for an eternity before he finally responded. “Interesting.”
“Interesting? That’s all?” She arched her brow, unable to hide her disgust. “You insulted my team. Did you really think I was going to sit there and let you speak to them that way?”
Surprise washed over his face and she was horrified to realize that was exactly what he’d expected. So he’d heard the rumors and probably her nickname, too.
Ice Queen.
Maybe she’d earned it, maybe not. Olivia knew she had a reputation for being tough, but above all else, she was fair. She offered constructive criticism and expected her team to work hard, but she also shared the praise and she sure as hell didn’t berate them publicly.
She took a deep breath. She didn’t have the luxury of feeling sorry for herself right now. So he saw her as the Ice Queen. That was beyond her control. Sure, it stung, but it didn’t really matter. This was business, after all.
“That may be how you run your company, but it’s not how I run my team. I will
not have my people humiliated for your entertainment. I’ve worked with these people a long time and I’ve earned the right to challenge them. You haven’t.”
“I’m a partner here,” he reminded her, “which means I have every right. We owe our clients the best and that wasn’t it. I won’t apologize for pushing the team to be better, although I may have mishandled the situation today.”
“You think?”
“It won’t happen again, but I still intend to be very hands-on.”
“Yes,” she sneered, unable to cut off the snarky reply before it escaped her lips. “I believe we already established that fact.”
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing,” she recanted as common sense took root. What the hell was she thinking, antagonizing him like that? As a partner, he had Jonathan’s ear and with it the ability to make or break her future. The last thing she needed was for him to think she was a jilted schoolgirl. “I apologize. I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“No, if there’s something on your mind, we should get it out in the open now,” he reasoned, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair, amusement lighting his gray eyes. He looked completely relaxed, while Olivia herself felt like a bundle of nerves.
“What is there to talk about? You look like a guy who’s had more than his fair share of one-night stands. You know how it works.” A shaky laugh rolled off her lips. “But I guess it didn’t quite go as planned this time, huh? I’m sure you never expected to see my shining face again.”
“That’s hardly fair!” he growled, rising from his chair and closing the gap between them in a few short strides. He towered over her, looking both dangerous and sexy in that moment, with raw emotion flashing in his eyes. She wasn’t sure if he wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake the shit out of her or if he wanted to do something a whole lot dirtier.
Judging by his ragged breath, her money was on door number two: down and dirty. The thought of his lips pressed to hers had her hormones in a damn frenzy. Desire coiled in her belly, reaching out and planting some very delicious, very NC-17 thoughts in her mind as her gaze drifted from his full lips to further south. Her body reacted to his nearness as though it had a will of its own, and she found herself craving his taste, her anger dissipating with each passing second. Cole’s hooded eyes and the erection he couldn’t hide suggested he was fighting the same losing battle.
For the first time in her career, she wanted to be the girl who had sex in the supply closet, and to hell with the consequences. The tension curling between them was a live, ravenous thing that threatened to consume her even as she resisted.
“You’re the one who ran out,” he whispered gruffly, breaking the silence. “You never even gave me a chance. Hell, I wanted to take you to dinner.”
He’d wanted to see her again? Olivia’s chest tightened at the revelation. She reached for him, but stopped short.
If she’d stayed that morning, would things be any different? She doubted it. Cole wasn’t the monogamous type. Neither was she. Besides, he was the boss now. She didn’t have the luxury of indulging in office romance. All it would take was one person catching wind of them sleeping together and any hope of promotion would go straight out the window. Or worse, if she did get a promotion, everyone would assume it was because she was screwing her boss. Her very hot boss.
And besides, she couldn’t forget it was his name on the door, not hers. Maybe it wasn’t his fault, but that didn’t change the fact Pritchard had picked Cole over her. He’d blown into town and taken the one thing she so desperately needed.
“Really, Cole? What did you expect?” Olivia stood, forcing him to take a step back. She smoothed her face to a look of indifference and squashed the burning need to feel his touch. This was how it had to be. “It was pretty apparent you only had one night in mind.”
“No,” he argued, his eyes raging like storm clouds. “Don’t you dare do that. Don’t pretend you didn’t feel it, too. You didn’t leave your friend with the check and sidle up to that bar for good conversation.”
Her cheeks flamed. She hadn’t counted on him calling her out. “You were watching me?”
“Of course I was watching you,” he retorted, his defenses melting into a crooked smile. “You were the most beautiful woman in the bar. Everyone was watching you.”
A thrill raced through her veins, but she quickly tamped it down. Fair or not, he was her manager now. And regardless of whatever everyone else might think, she didn’t sleep with her managers. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over now. It has to be. Do you have any idea what they say about women who get caught screwing the boss?”
“Sweetheart,” he drawled, trailing a hand seductively down her arm, “what we do behind closed doors is no one’s business but ours.”
“You know,” she stammered, resenting the way her body reacted to his touch with fireworks and songbirds, “I kind of hate you sometimes.”
“If that’s code for ‘I want to fuck you until I can’t walk straight’, then I kind of hate you, too.” Before she could protest, his lips were crashing against her mouth, claiming her and burning a trail of hungry kisses down her throat as he nipped at the sensitive flesh. His strong hands gripped her arms, pulling her flush against him, her aching breasts crushed to his solid chest. They were so close she could feel the heat rolling off his body. She could bask in that heat all day, writhing in the pleasure he offered. When Cole’s hands dropped to her ass, cupping the cheeks and slamming her hips into him—hard—she liked it. Liked feeling his erection pressed against her belly in search of her wet heat. And God was she wet. He could bring her from zero to orgasm in a heartbeat. Nerves were firing all over her body, a frenzy she fully expected to result in earth-shattering, orgasmic satisfaction. Unable to stop herself, she rolled her hips toward him, seeking relief for the pressure building between her legs as the dampness in her panties spread.
Unable to think about anything except the screaming need searing through her body, she grabbed his tie and pulled him close, ravaging his lips in desperation. He growled in response and spun her around so her backside was pressed firmly against his erection. Her pulse spiked, bringing desire with it. His intentions were clear. She leaned forward, putting her breasts to the table, and rubbed her ass against his hard ridge, enjoying the very exquisite, very male feel of him. With no time to waste, he hitched up her skirt, the chill of the cool office air washing over her rear. He exposed her bare flesh, running a hand gently over her right cheek, before giving it a firm slap. The sting heightened her excitement and she wriggled with anticipation. They were silent except for the sound of his zipper sliding down, freeing the erection that would satisfy her raging hormones. He dragged the tip down the cleft of her ass, sending a thrill up her spine. Finally. He was positioned to take her.
A sharp knock at the door yanked Olivia back to reality.
Holy hell! Had she lost her freaking mind? She separated herself from Cole and flung herself into one of the empty chairs that surrounded the table, milliseconds before Jack opened the door and stuck his head in. She glanced at Cole, relieved to see he’d positioned himself behind one of the high-backed chairs, effectively masking his open trousers.
“Uh, Mr. Pritchard needs to see you, Mr. Bennett.”
The look in Cole’s eyes was deadly as he turned to the junior associate. “I’ll be right there.” Honestly, it was a wonder Jack didn’t pee his pants, she thought, a nervous laugh rolling off her lips as he backed out of the room. Had Jack seen them going at it like two horny teenagers? She hoped to God not. Which reminded her of what she had to do. Olivia took a deep breath and braced herself for the fallout.
“Look, it was a dare, okay?” she blurted out. “Nothing more. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been somebody else in that bar.”
Shock registered on Cole’s face, followed by denial. She couldn’t blame him. It did seem pretty tasteless in retrospect.
“A fucking dare, huh?” The smile that twisted his lips was any
thing but pleased. “Sweetheart, it may have started that way, but in case you haven’t noticed, we can’t be in the same room without ripping each other’s clothes off, so why keep fighting it?”
Her pride wanted her to deny the crap out of his statement, but what would be the point? Her breathless state spoke louder than any argument she could form. She shrugged. “I like sex as much as the next girl. I had an itch that needed scratching, so I scratched it. It didn’t really matter who it was with.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe it or don’t. It doesn’t change the facts.” Olivia’s stomach turned at the heartless words. Shit, she was earning that Ice Queen reputation right now. “We’re both adults. We have to work together, and if you like your cushy new job you’ll keep your hands—and your penis—to yourself. I will not jeopardize my career, or my reputation, for meaningless sex. No matter how good it is. You shouldn’t either.”
She moved toward the door, desperate to escape the confines of the stifling room and Cole’s accusing stare before it consumed her. Like the wild kudzu vine of the south, he had a way of overpowering everyone and everything in his path, and Olivia wasn’t sure she had the strength to hold her ground. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to.
As she twisted the knob to freedom, he delivered a parting shot.
“I don’t believe you. The way you cried my name? That was more than just a dare.”
Chapter Nine
Cole drummed his fingers on the table, fuming. He was due in Pritchard’s office, but he was too pissed to go anywhere just yet. Better to be a few minutes late and get his temper under control after the way Olivia had just nuked him. He wasn’t buying that “dare” bullshit for a second. Maybe it had started out that way, but either she was a hell of an actress, or she was in denial. He was betting on denial. Maybe Olivia thought she could fool herself, but she wasn’t fooling him. The way she’d reacted to his touch? That wasn’t just convenience. That was authentic. She had enjoyed every moment in that hotel room—and every stolen moment since—just as he had. Maybe even more.
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