She blinked, then shifted her attention in his direction. “Uh, no.”
“Then I’ll take you out to breakfast.” He dropped his cufflinks into his pants pocket and rolled up his sleeves to just below his elbows.
With one shoe on, she’d stopped to watch him. Something held her attention, but he had no idea what. “There’s a great hole-in-the-wall in Arlington that serves a mean eggs Benedict.”
She slipped her bare foot into her stiletto. “Sounds quaint. I’ll pass.”
“Why don’t I scramble eggs at your place, then?”
She laughed. “My place? That is so not happening.”
Although he was miffed at how she took pleasure in her steady stream of rejections, her spunkiness fueled his drive to win.
He tied his dress shoes and straightened, then raked his damp hair from his eyes. Already dressed, she sauntered toward him. With each step he envisioned her mouth on his, her body draped around his, while their slow, erotic connection climbed to a frenetic pace. She stopped inches away, her almond eyes filled with frisky energy. She turned. The dress needed zipping. Damn.
Unable to resist, he ran his fingers down the length of her back, appreciating her silky skin. Her breath caught. It would be all too easy to pull her into an embrace and begin again.
No. We’re done.
He slid the zipper, cloaking her slinky body. Losing her in this way left him with an unexpected emptiness. He shook his head. Sleep deprivation had muddled his brain.
He touched her shoulder. A simple courtesy to let her know he was finished, and then he stepped away. Seeking the best for his business wasn’t new, but hiring a strong-willed person was. While his loyal staff was comprised of intelligent, hardworking individuals, they did as he instructed. No balking, no pushback. How much could this change of strategy cost him? He was about to find out. “Brigit, the wealth manager position is yours. When can you start?”
She pivoted, the playful spark gone. “I’m declining your offer, Colton. Nothing has changed.”
He clenched his jaw. She was being so damn stubborn. While he needed her expertise, this would be a great career move for her, as well.
She glided past him and into the living room. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, he followed, but sank into the recliner, prepared to stall her. She paced in front of the sofa.
Here comes serious.
Cocking her fist on her hip, she stopped in front of him. Her eyes narrowed and the feisty woman he’d met in Seth’s office returned. “It’s my understanding that you’ve had six wealth advisors in the past decade. Most resigned because you’re impossible and incorrigible. Their words, not mine.”
He relaxed against the crinkled leather and remained silent. Best to let her regurgitate her issues, so he’d know what challenges to overcome.
“From what I’ve learned, you rarely agreed to their proposals and made financial decisions based on what you thought best. When you made poor choices and lost money from bad investments, you blamed them, even if they’d advised against your suggestions. Those business tactics make my head hurt. I’ve worked too hard and come too far to work with a hot-headed tyrant like you.”
He tapped the armrest, but said nothing. She was nowhere near done.
Brigit pinned him with a hard stare. “It’s one thing to let you boss me around in bed, or in the shower, but I’m the expert when it comes to wealth management. You are not. My recommendations are the culmination of a well-thought-out strategy with only your best interest in mind. If you won’t allow me to do my job, which by your own admission I’m the best at, why on earth would I work with you?”
Fuck, she had a point.
“It’s my understanding that your staff’s investments haven’t been managed because you monopolized Todd’s time. I’ll tell Seth. Expectations with potential wealth managers must be set. You employ a staff of twenty, therefore time must be set aside quarterly to meet with everyone.”
“Todd managed.” He strummed his fingers over the worn arm of the chair.
“No, Colton, he did not. News flash. The world doesn’t revolve around you.”
Although frustrated she’d declined his offer, he was pleased to hear her champion his staff. “You’re negotiating with me already? I don’t see how you’re in a position to do that.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Negotiations began the moment you laid eyes on me in the conference room. Others may cut you slack, but I will not.”
And then he knew. She wanted control, respect, and autonomy. If he wanted her, he’d have to play by her rules. This was definitely a first. His heart thundered in his ears. Handing over control, no matter how seemingly small, made his blood boil. There was no such thing as insignificant power.
Colton had to tread with caution. Brigit Farnay was quite the contender. If he gave her an inch, she’d want more. A smile ghosted across his lips. Time to roll out his plan. “Your presentation was spot-on and your analysis of MobiCom was exactly what I needed.”
Gripping her hips, the hint of a smile danced on her lips. Nice. Even tough-as-nails Brigit Farnay wasn’t impervious to a compliment.
“And therein lies the problem,” she said. “I followed your orders. How are you going to manage when you give me another unreasonable request with zero turnaround time or I disagree with your investment strategies?”
As he paused, he studied her face. She was so damn sexy all fired up. “Brigit, let’s trial this for ninety days.”
“You really know how to entice a girl.” On a harrumph, she crossed her arms. “Try this on for size. Trust my judgment and give me control over your wealth.”
Control over my wealth. Colton gritted his teeth. From a young age, he’d learned that control and power went hand in hand. The room closed in. He needed air.
“Colton. Colton.” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I’ll call a taxi.”
“No, Chad will drive you home after breakfast.” Rising to full stature, Colton raked his hair out of his face. “Negotiations aren’t over.”
When they stepped outside the chilly October dawn air wicked away the thin line of perspiration on his brow. His head pounded. Needing help displayed weakness. But what alternative did he have? Brigit’s professional expertise was key to ensuring Francesco’s success.
Shivering, she hugged herself. He wanted to warm her body with his, but hiring her meant hands off. Instead, he draped his suit jacket over her shoulders. The oversized clothing hung like a boxy dress. Adorable.
Though she whispered her appreciation, she refused to make eye contact.
Under a dark cloud of unresolved conflict, they continued up the porch stairs and into the quiet kitchen. He owed no one an explanation, but in this particular situation, it was better they not be seen together in last night’s duds. He glanced at the time on the wall clock. Just after seven. They’d pulled an all-nighter. “Taylor will escort you to breakfast at eight thirty.”
In a thickening silence, they walked upstairs and down the hall to the guest suite. Brigit opened the door, crossed into the room, and turned to face him. Her shamrock green eyes were no indication she’d gotten no sleep. “Last night was—”
“Yes, it was,” he said.
“Seth can assign a temporary broker to handle any trades you might make, based on my recommendations.” She handed him his suit jacket and started to close the bedroom door. “Goodbye, Colton.”
He jammed his foot against it. “Why do you defy me at every opportunity?”
Holding his gaze, she whispered, “Because you love it.”
Her pouty lips were inches away. On impulse he leaned in to kiss her, but she shut the door in his face.
16
The Morning After
Brigit leaned against the back of the closed bedroom door and slowly inhaled. Once her lungs had filled, she let the air seep out with a sigh. The sex high she’d only read about had her head in the clouds, courtesy of the man she’d done nothing but despise for five long year
s. Though Colton’s offer was financially tempting, working with him would only further his needs while putting a hard stop to her own. And who in their right mind teams up with the enemy?
She tugged on charcoal leggings and slipped into a camisole and long gray sweater. Blow-drying her damp hair, she strategized next steps. A quick getaway, then a text to Seth, letting him know the arrangement wouldn’t work. By noon she’d have her life back on track.
After setting her phone alarm, she flopped onto the guest bed. An hour and a half later, she woke and brushed her teeth.
At eight thirty, Taylor escorted her to breakfast. “Did you have fun last night?”
Sex-crazed fun. “Yes, thanks.” Brigit waited for a snide comment, a sideways glance or a snicker, but Taylor said nothing more.
A tall and fit man covered in chef’s whites whirred around the spacious kitchen. He wore a small pierced hoop in his left earlobe, and his salt and pepper hair peeked out from the sides of his toque.
“Our chef, Elliott Towne,” Taylor said. “Elliott, meet Brigit Farnay.”
“Welcome to my little slice of heaven!” Elliott exclaimed. “Any food allergies, my dear?”
“Good to meet you, Elliott. No, none.”
“I don’t cook for the staff on weekends, but a little birdie told me we had a special guest. I whipped up a few quiches along with some other goodies.”
“Smells delicious.” His big hazel eyes reminded her of her mom. “My mom made a killer quiche.” Brigit’s cheeks heated and she pursed her lips. Where did that come from? She never spoke of her parents.
“Well, I hope mine measures up.” He smiled warmly. “Tell me you’re starting soon. Not that I don’t love working here, but I’d like to retire before I’m dead.”
Brigit laughed. “Gotta love a man with hardy goals.”
“Once you’ve started and have settled Colton down—” Elliott chortled. “Rewind. Once you’ve settled Colton’s finances down, please review my retirement fund first. That account has dwindled to chump change.”
Smiling sweetly, she followed Taylor to the coffee cart next to the dark granite counter. “Coffee or tea?” Taylor asked.
“Coffee.” Brigit pulled a white mug and Taylor filled it.
“Sugar and cream?” Taylor pointed.
“No, thanks.” The hearty aroma wafted in Brigit’s direction and she took a sip. Hot and strong. This’ll clear the cobwebs.
Brigit stopped using cream and sugar when her parents died. If her parents could drink their java black, so could she. She wanted to preserve their memory. Even the little things helped keep her connected.
Taylor plopped on a cushy chair at the long walnut table and Brigit eased in beside her. The sweet sting between her legs reminded her of Colton. Was there no escaping that man? As Elliott and Shane whisked and stirred, baked and flipped, she questioned whether she’d fit in. No, no I wouldn’t. Stop thinking.
Six hickory leather chairs lined the center island. Eye-catching ruby and peach glass lights hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow on the shiny granite surface while winking copper pots dangled from an overhead rack. Even the professional-grade stainless steel appliances and a restaurant-size refrigerator didn’t detract from the charm and homey feel of the room. But the harsh light of day brought the realization that she was enjoying another fantastic meal with Colton’s staff. The situation seemed a little too cozy for her liking.
A group of seven trickled in and Taylor reintroduced Brigit. The second Elliott announced breakfast was ready they swarmed the center island like starving children. If the spread was designed to impress, it was a rousing success. Spinach quiches, hash browns, blueberry pancakes, chicken and apple sausage links and oven-fresh cinnamon muffins lined the island.
“Ryan, dude, Elliott made this for Brigit.” Red tapped his shoulder. “You need to step aside for our guest.”
“It’s fine.” Brigit waited to fill her plate, then slipped back into her seat.
“So, Brigit, did Colton make you an offer?” Vanessa asked, seated across the table.
“He did.” Brigit buttered her muffin.
“Are you giving two weeks or starting Monday?” Red asked.
“I declined,” Brigit replied.
“Shit,” Red mumbled.
“Stop eating my food.” Elliott winked.
Brigit smiled at him.
“I commend Brigit,” Vanessa said. “If it’s not the right fit, why throw her life into turmoil? Colton’s a handful. No one knows that better than me.”
“Save it,” Red mumbled.
Brigit braced for another cackle, but silence prevailed. Vanessa’s smug expression soured her stomach. Why would Vanessa care who Colton hired?
Loud laughter interrupted her thoughts. Colton and Mr. Muscles entered the kitchen play fighting like two little boys. She couldn’t help but crack a smile.
Colton wore a long-sleeved white running shirt and black running pants. Snug material designed to wick away perspiration. And there wasn’t a drop of sweat on that man, anywhere. His windblown hair and reddened cheeks made her heart patter wildly. That man was a whole lotta yummy.
Her gaze roamed over his sculpted arms and down his rock-solid torso. By the time she feasted on his thick thighs, she was plain old gawking. Thoughts of those strong legs beneath her as she straddled his steely length had her fidgeting in her seat. Stop.
To distract herself, she turned her attention to the other man. Football-player big with the face of a surfer, he wore basketball shorts and a cut-off T-shirt. But it was his bedhead blond hair and dimples that stood out, even over that hard body. Those two are serious eye candy.
Colton scanned the faces at the table until he found who he was looking for.
Brigit.
His expression turned from carefree to fiery. A ripple of excitement burst through her and she crossed her legs. The soreness made her flinch. “Brigit,” Colton said, “this is Chad Wright, my—”
“Human cyborg creation,” Chad said, and they started laughing all over again.
If things had been different, Colton might have captured her heart with his playful nature. But they weren’t and he hadn’t. He was still the man who’d snatched her family’s business, treated her with total disrespect, and guarded her company as if his life depended on it.
Chad got his laughter under control and extended his hand. “Good to finally meet you, Brigit. I handle security for Mitus. I hope you start soon because this guy”—he punched Colton’s shoulder—“hasn’t stopped talk—”
“Brigit,” Colton interrupted. “Did you have a restful sleep?”
“I slept on a slab of granite, but Elliott and Shane’s delicious breakfast made up for my restless night.” Though her face warmed, she held Colton’s gaze.
His mouth quirked up, but he cleared his throat and the smile vanished. “Once again, we disagree. A firm mattress provides a more restful sleep. Studies show hardness ranks high.”
Chad chuckled, his dimples front and center. “When did you become a sleep expert?”
“In fact, the Mitus mattress might be the reason you change your mind and agree to come on board.” Colton kept his fiery gaze pinned on Brigit.
“I think I’d like a new mattress,” Elliott chimed in.
When Colton glanced at the food spread on the island, Brigit guzzled her ice water hoping to cool her internal thermostat.
“I’ll have breakfast in my sitting room,” Colton said.
“It’s Saturday,” Chad said. “Your scepter wields no power.”
“I’ll bring you something.” Vanessa set down her fork. “Be up shortly.”
“Thank you, Vanessa,” said Colton. “Someone cares about me.”
“Always.” Jumping, Vanessa filled a plate.
Colton excused himself. Like a dutiful servant Vanessa followed, a plate of food and a mug of coffee balanced on a tray. Chad wolfed down a piece of quiche while standing at the island, then bolted.
After b
reakfast, Taylor escorted Brigit upstairs and waited while she packed. In addition to leaving the couture gowns in the closet, she left the stunning diamond pendant on the bureau. She needed no reminders of that man or their torrid night.
Taylor picked up the necklace. “Colton bought this for you. You should take it.”
Chad knocked as he poked his head inside the open door. “I’m driving you home. You ready?”
“All set.”
Wearing khakis, a polo shirt and lightweight jacket, Chad collected her computer and roller bags. Slinging her handbag over her shoulder, she followed into the hallway. Just then, Colton’s bedroom door opened and Vanessa emerged with the tray. Brigit’s heart dipped.
“Bye bye, Brigit,” Vanessa called, sounding a little too happy.
As they headed toward the grand staircase, Brigit waved. In the foyer, Taylor opened the front door and Brigit turned to admire the home one last time. Seth had been right. The house and its furnishings were exquisite. While Chad secured Brigit’s bags in the trunk of the Bentley, Taylor walked her to the car.
“It would be great if you worked here,” Taylor said. “You got the message loud and clear. Your wealth management expertise is definitely needed. Work aside, I like you, Brigit. You have an invincible energy.” She leaned close. “That’s what Colton needs.”
Brigit knew exactly what that man needed. Taylor hugged her, then opened the back door. After sliding into the backseat, Brigit said, “Oh, no. Not you again.”
17
The Sexy Ride Home
Brigit’s heart lodged in her throat. Colton’s sly grin sent a sexual jolt pinging through her. The familiar scent of his just-washed hair wafted in her direction and her insides came alive. Damn traitorous body.
He grinned. “I knew you’d be pleased to see me.”
“Thrilled,” she deadpanned. “What are you doing here?”
“After we take you home, we’re golfing at my club.” His khaki pants and navy blue jersey outlined his solid frame. She fought the urge to run her fingers over his scruffy cheeks, pull him close and kiss him. Enough.
THE MITUS TOUCH: Book One of The Touch Series Page 10