He respected that desire for independence, but still wanted to look after her. It was a tough line to walk. He really wished he could see her as an employee or a project or an exotic creature he could pet and play with and ultimately set free with smug satisfaction at having rescued and rehabilitated her.
But there was no hiding the fact she was a woman, even when she dressed like a man.
He took her to the office with him when they landed in New York. She was still caretaking Mae’s investments and he had some ideas on how to utilize her skills, but he needed to put a few more pieces in place first.
Mostly he brought her with him because he couldn’t stand the idea of leaving her alone in his penthouse all day. Which was all about her, he chided himself. He could have gone those hours without seeing her just fine.
With equal parts curiosity and wariness, she took her cue from his custom-made suit and dressed in flared pants with a matching pinstriped vest over a crisp white shirt with a sharply pointed collar. She twisted her hair up and carried a briefcase that cost as much as the sleek new laptop within it. She rather cheekily pilfered one of his ties and wore it loose enough her collar exposed the hollow in the base of her throat.
She was sexy as hell. If anything, the contrast of authoritative masculine clothes on her nonstop curves made her femininity more obvious. Very much more alluring.
After a week of trying to ignore her round ass in snug khakis and the way perspiration gathered between her breasts in her low, round-necked undershirts, it was taking all his concentration to behave like a civilized man when the territorial beast inside him wanted so badly to mate.
But he couldn’t. He didn’t know how he would keep his control in place, but he would.
They turned heads as he walked her through his top-floor offices.
“That’s the meeting I left when I got your message.” He thumbed toward a glass wall into a boardroom where a dozen faces, stern and concerned and curious, watched them walk past. “Come find me if you need me. I’ll be there for a few hours.”
He continued along to the open door of the office closest to his own.
“Luli, this is Marco.”
“Sir.” The good-looking, well-dressed Latino man stopped typing and stood. He was a little older than Luli and eyed her with sharp interest as he came around to greet them. “Congratulations on your recent marriage, sir. And thank you for the promotion. I appreciate your thinking of me.”
He shook Gabriel’s hand and smiled warmly at Luli as he shook hers. “Mrs. Dean, welcome.”
“Nice to meet you,” Luli murmured shyly, gaze taking in the view of Central Park behind the sleek desk, the mini fridge beneath the bar and the presentation screen over the meeting table with four chairs. “I’ll set up there and check in with Singapore while you’re tied up?” she suggested to Gabriel, nodding at the table.
God, she was adorable.
“Luli, we’ve talked about this,” he admonished sternly, enjoying her discomfiture as she widened her eyes and grew defensive.
“I want to make those transfers we talked about on the plane. You said I should continue doing what I was doing until you made other arrangements.”
“Do your work at your desk. This is your office.” He moved so she could see the plate on the door read Lucrecia Dean. “Marco has everything set up for you. He’s your personal assistant. If you need anything—thumbtacks, dry cleaning, tickets to a Broadway show—he’ll source it. But make sure I’m free to go with you. Sync our calendars,” he told Marco.
“Done, sir.”
“Thank you. Marco speaks Spanish,” Gabriel added to Luli. “It’s one of the reasons I thought he’d be a good fit for you.”
“I barely do,” she admitted sheepishly to Marco. “It’s been such a long time.” She pushed her mouth to the side in a look that was both reproving and rueful as she realized Gabriel had been deliberately teasing her, letting her think Marco was her boss or sitter. “Gracias.”
“De nada. We have plans tonight. Steal a nap on the sofa in my office if you need it.” Unable to resist, he kissed her cheek before he walked out.