Risk (Vault 1)

The air around us stills, the only sound to be heard is her sharp intake of breath. She’s silent for a few moments until she finally says, “Do you often meet women in a public bathroom, give them a job and then decide you want them in your life?”

I smile at her flippancy, but ignore it. Everything else about her tells me I’ve unnerved her. The way she’s twirling her hair, biting her lip and staring at me like I’ve lost my damn mind—she wants what I want, but she’s not ready to admit it yet. I can work with that. A good challenge always inspires me.

Reaching for her hand, I stop her fiddling with her hair and say, “I can’t say I’ve ever wandered into a woman’s bathroom and met someone who I later employed. But something’s telling me that even if I had, they wouldn’t be anything like you.” I shift to the edge of my chair so I can lean closer to her. “I’ve spent the last few days trying to get you out of my head, but I’ve failed. I close my eyes, and all I can see is you. I try to work, and all I can think about is you. I go to the gym, and you’re right there with me. It’s been a week since I met you, and all I want to do is spend time with you.” I pause for a beat, giving her a moment to catch her breath because I’m almost certain she hasn’t taken one since I started talking. I let her hand go and lean back against my seat to relax her. “But first I want to know how you became interested in the stock market.”

She takes a moment getting herself together, and then she bares a piece of her soul that only makes me want her more. “It’s true that my father loves the stock market, but he never shared that love with me. He was always too busy working. A lawyer has to stay on top of his game, he always told me. It was his father that made me fall in love with numbers, shares and the thrill of predicting the market. My grandfather spent hours with me teaching me everything he knew. He never made me feel like I was taking up too much of his time. I never felt as loved by anyone as I did him. It killed my mother when he died and left me most of his money. She had ideas for that inheritance and has held it against me for years that it came to me rather than her.” She stops talking suddenly and pulls a face. “God, I don’t know why I just told you that. I hate it when people talk about their money.”

Murdoch Cohen Senior would have died with millions. Old money plus his skill trading shares would have ensured that. He’s been dead for five years, so I figure Charlize has added to that fortune with her talents. Frowning, I ask, “Why are you working for me if you manage a portfolio of that size?”

She stares at me for a long moment before exhaling a long breath. When she starts talking, I sense that she really doesn’t want to be having this conversation. “I might be managing that portfolio, but I don’t have access to any of it until I hit thirty. My grandfather loved me dearly, and he ensured I had the knowledge to build on what he’d achieved, but he also knew I suck at budgeting. I guess he was hoping that by the time I turn thirty I might be better at managing my own money. At the rate I’m going, I’m wondering if he should have made it forty.”

I work hard not to show my amusement, but I fail. My lips curl up in a grin. “So let me get this straight, I can put you in charge of analysing risk, but I should never put you in charge of my budget?”

She pokes her tongue at me and smacks my chest. “Funny.”

This is the second time she’s smacked me. The last time, she regretted it. This time I’m not giving her that option. I quickly flick my hand out to grasp her wrist and hold it against my chest. “Every time you do that, you move me closer to kissing you.”

Her eyes widen a fraction. It’s almost unnoticeable, but I’m trained to notice every little thing about people. To figure out the risk involved with whatever they’re trying to sell me. I half expect her to pull away, but she doesn’t. Instead, she shifts so she can bring her mouth almost to mine. Her eyes stay glued to mine as she says, “I’ve imagined kissing you. Every damn day since we met.” She traces my lips with her finger. “I think that kissing you would become an obsession. Kinda like swimming naked with you would.”

Jesus.

Fuck.

Her voice is breathy as all hell. It fucking turns me on like I’ve never been turned on before.

And swimming naked?

I have no idea where that came from, but I’m down. She must love swimming, though, because she mentioned it the night we met, too.

“Obsessions can be good things, Charlize. You should try it and see.”

Her breathing picks up a little. Her desire fuels my own. Hell, at this point, I’m wondering if instead of kissing her, I’ll be spreading her out across this table and fucking her.

“There’s this slight issue,” she says, her gaze dropping to my lips. “Fucking your boss is frowned upon.”

If I thought I was turned on before, I don’t know what the fuck you’d call what I’m feeling now. Charlize only has to utter the words “fucking your boss,” and my body stirs like it hasn’t in a long time. A long fucking time to be exact.

I want her in my arms, her lips on mine.

I want her under me.

I want my cock everywhere in her.

I settle for my hand on her thigh, my fingers sliding under the hem of her skirt. “It’s a good thing I’m the boss and that I say fucking me would not be frowned upon.”

She licks her lips and places her hands against my chest. “I’m not sure it’s such a good idea, though. You might know facts about me, but you have no idea what I’m like when I’m fucking a guy. I mean, I might be a nutjob who goes to crazy town on you. And while I’m absolutely convinced that sleeping with you would most definitely become an obsession, I don’t know if you have stalker qualities. I am not about the stalker life.”

This woman is blowing my damn mind and I have hardly touched her.

I grip her thighs. “Charlize?”

“What?” Her question comes out on another throaty breath.

“I’m going to kiss you, so you need to be ready for that,” I growl, only barely managing to restrain myself from doing a lot fucking more to her than that.

She doesn’t reply. The only thing she does is inhale deeply while watching my lips. I take that as a sign she wants this as much as I do.

Taking hold of her face with both hands, I claim her mouth with a kiss I’ve been planning for days. Her soft lips respond to me in a way that kicks this up another notch. Touching her and tasting her is almost more than I can handle. I work hard controlling my urge to demand more than a kiss from her.