Mr One-Night Stand

‘I understand that.’ She gave him a killer smile, but her eyes were hard. ‘Nonetheless, my team has worked hard on this product to date, and for you to sweep in now so soon after your arrival in this firm and have it canned would be unwise.’

The room fell silent as the impact of her words hit home.

‘Not only will this ensure our employees don’t feel shafted by your presence,’ she continued, ‘we can also ensure we put the best product out there.’

Marcus felt both men look to him, sensed Maxine’s smile of approval, but his eyes were locked with hers and he was lost in them, his admiration swelling with irritating vigour.

‘Very well,’ he heard himself say. ‘Get the teams together. They have until the end of the week to get it mapped out and underway.’

Her lips quirked with triumph and, fuck, did he want to obliterate it with his own.

‘Seems to me you have a lot to get done.’ He glanced over them all, settling on Jennifer last. ‘Why don’t you get to it?’

They all stood, save for her.

‘I assume you’d like to stay for this conference call?’ he said.

She gave him a brisk nod, the movement drawing his eye to the crystal droplets swinging from each ear and to the soft, expanse of skin just behind. His mouth dried. The desire to taste her was instinctive—to drive out the whimper he so loved to hear, to trail a path from there all the way to her collarbone and further still...

The room had emptied before he came to, and he did so with force. ‘Are you doing battle with me? Or are you truly fighting the corner for your product and your team?’

She gave him a coy smile, crossing her legs as she brushed a distracting hand across her thigh.

‘I want to say I’m being entirely noble...’

She cocked her head serenely, her eyes dancing with mischief, and God help him the rush beneath his waist was instant.

‘But doing battle with you is kind of fun.’

‘Did you not listen to my warning?’

‘Oh, I listened,’ she said smoothly.

His mouth opened to respond but nothing came—nothing that would make sense.

What did he want to propose? Did he really want to act on his threat? And where would that leave him? Leave them?

He was rescued by the phone ringing, signalling his incoming US call.

She rose from her seat to join him at his desk and he answered the call.

He’d have liked to say his attention moved fully to the call. He’

d have also liked to say that for the remainder of that week his focus revolved fully around work.

But he hadn’t been born a liar.

He wasn’t about to start being one now.

As for his assurance that he would keep himself in check—it was crippling him. Her constant presence was a permanent tease that no one could see off. Or rather, no woman.

And his mood suffered with it.

Celibacy, it turned out, was not good for him—on any level.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SHE’D BEEN READING the same article for the last hour and still it wouldn’t compute.