Tapping The Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys 1)

“Look, I trust you.” Her feathers unruffled slightly. “Do I want to know that the deal went through? Absolutely. Do I need to know the details and question your every move? Not so much.”

She unwound her arms from her chest.

“In fact, I’m headed to L.A. tonight, and I need someone to hold down the fort. Can you handle it if I tell everyone to report to you?”

Her spine straightened involuntarily, outrage at having to be asked tensing all of the muscles around it. “Of course I can.”

I studiously ignored her irritation.

“I’m not expecting you to solve every issue that comes your way. Just keep the ship afloat and the piratelike crew members from setting her ablaze.”

“Done.”

She traced a circle on the front edge of my desk, and I could practically see her effort to be casual. “So you’re, uh—”

She tucked an imaginary strand of hair behind her ear. Not a single one had been out of place.

“You’re headed to L.A., huh?”

I bit my lip in victory. She was asking because she wanted to know. She wanted to go out with me, she just hadn’t accepted it yet.

“Yep.”

“Oh…okay. So, um—”

“Quick trip,” I said, letting her off the hook. “Just a couple of investor meetings and then right back to the East Coast. I’ll be back in plenty of time for Friday night.”

“That’s cool,” she muttered, clasping her hands together like she didn’t know what to do with them.

I had a few ideas, but most of them came from the brain downstairs. And I didn’t think she’d be extremely welcoming of them at this stage of the game.

“Georgia?”

Her attention jumped from the floor straight to my gaze. The vivid depths of her eyes’ blue, swirling with a heady mix of excitement and uncertainty, nearly knocked the wind out of me.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Looking forward to it?”

“Friday night, with you.” Her clasped hands turned white with pressure, and a blush colored the apples of her cheeks. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Her face softened briefly, overwhelmed by a powerful look of longing. Fifteen seconds later, when determination replaced it, her sweet jaw flexing under the pressure, I wasn’t sure it had ever existed.

In contrast to the harsh hue of her features, her voice was nothing more than a whisper. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

I considered her question carefully instead of firing out some bullshit answer. I knew the reason she was asking, and it wasn’t trivial. I was her boss, and for all she knew, I had plans to fuck and forget. There were no guarantees that anything would really bloom between us, and we’d both feel the fallout. She was an asset to my company, and I signed her checks. Everyone would argue she had more to lose, but I wasn’t as sure.

Cynthia in HR would ride my ass for a decision like this—because, regardless of the absence of an actual no-fraternization policy, interoffice romance was always messy, especially when one of those employees was the boss. She knew it as well as I did, and I might have even known it better. But as I sat there looking at Georgia’s face, my big fucking desk in between us, the only thing I could think about was being closer, standing next to her, escorting her as I walked with a hand at the perfect swoop of her lower back—smelling the sweet curve of her neck and nibbling it with my teeth.

Maybe I was blind, but as far as I could see, it was the best goddamn idea I’d ever had.

Her gaze followed me as I stood up and pushed my chair back, circling the desk and settling my hips into it a mere foot in front of her. She wanted to move back, I could see it, but she held her ground anyway, ready to listen to whatever I had to say.

I crossed my feet at the ankles and clasped my hands together in front of my thighs.

“I get it.”

Her bottom lip rocked as she chewed at the inside of it. My vision locked on to the movement like a heat-seeking missile. With effort, I forced my eyes back to hers.

“I get why you’re nervous, and I get the kinds of things a leap of faith could cost you. All I can promise is that I won’t be a prick.”

Surprised eyebrows ate up half of the distance to her hairline.

“Whatever happens between me and you, Kline and Georgia, is a completely separate entity from what happens under the umbrella of Brooks Media between Mr. Brooks and his Director of Marketing. My employee is efficient, well liked, and boasts a seasoned track record of success. Mr. Brooks has seen it, paid attention to it, and appreciated it for a while now. But Kline…” I laughed. “Well, that guy’s been an idiot.”