‘Perfectly.’
When the girls had finished testing the make-up, Quinn eased away from the wall. ‘Thank you, all of you, for your co-operation. Please take anything you like.’
‘Excuse me…?’
‘Yes?’ Quinn’s head shot round when Magenta spoke up.
‘We girls didn’t want to be passive observers in the trial, and though we’ve enjoyed the experience enormously we do have some products we’d like you men to trial.’ She almost had to shout over the ensuing uproar. ‘We thought it could only benefit the campaign to get some insight into male products too, to cover all the market,’ she said quickly, seeing Quinn’s expression turn thunderous. He had granted her one favour and now she was stretching his patience to the limit, while the men were baying for her blood. After all, what could a woman possibly know about a man’s world?
Quinn silenced the roar of protest.
She had to risk everything on one final throw of the dice. ‘I wouldn’t have thought of it,’ Magenta said innocently. ‘I have you to thank, Quinn, for pointing out that our advertising efforts are largely directed at men. As this is the case, the girls and I thought it only prudent to be sure we’re on the right track by trialling some of the new male products and getting your thoughts on them.’
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ Quinn interrupted impatiently as the other men around him started to complain. ‘Magenta’s right,’ he added to her amazement. ‘I said we’d have a fair trial, and we will, which means the results cannot be assessed until we have views from both ends of the spectrum.’
With men at the top end of that spectrum and women nowhere, presumably, Magenta thought. But this wasn’t the time to be greedy—not while everything was going to plan. ‘Would you give us a minute to set up?’ she asked before Quinn had a chance to change his mind.
‘Take all the time you need. More than a minute and I’m out of here. What’s this?’ Quinn demanded when Magenta returned at the head of her team.
‘A shaving chair I borrowed from the local barber.’
Quinn shook his head in cynical surprise, but insisted on lifting it out of her hands all the same. ‘Where would you like it?’
‘In the centre of the room, please.’ The men weren’t smirking any longer, Magenta noticed. ‘All we need now is a volunteer. What, no one? Won’t anyone help us with our trial?’
Someone sniggered.
‘I will.’
All eyes were on Quinn, who was already loosening his tie.
CHAPTER NINE
‘THANK you, Quinn.’ She only had to hold his gaze to realise it contained all sorts of messages that made her yearn inside, most of which were, thankfully, indecipherable to anyone else in the room.
Everyone held a collective breath as Magenta helped Quinn take off his jacket. She could feel his warmth through the cool of his cotton shirt and an array of muscles flexing beneath her fingers. The spread of his shoulders was a challenge in itself, and though she wasn’t small she had to stand on tiptoes to slide his jacket off them. She gave it to one of the girls to hang up.
‘Would you like me to take my shirt off too?’ Quinn suggested.
‘That won’t be necessary, thank you.’ He really knew how to make her heart thunder. ‘If you would care to sit down…?’
Quinn arranged himself on the leather seat, and before she lowered it she secured a protective cover around his neck. Then, tipping him back so she could reach the sink, she stood over him. Their stares connected. Lying flat on his back, Quinn’s was amused, while hers could only have shown how much she was enjoying this moment of domination. To have Quinn’s strong, tanned face beneath her fingers and his gaze, laced with irony, daring her to do her worst was the best challenge she could have dreamed of. ‘Would you be more comfortable with your shoes off?’
‘I’ll keep them on, thank you—I might want to make a quick getaway.’
Quinn’s comment lifted the atmosphere at a stroke and even Magenta laughed.
‘Get on with it,’ he warned. ‘Remember, I want all those reports on my desk before lunchtime today. In fact, everyone,’ he said swivelling round in the chair, ‘you can go now. There’s no need to hang around while Magenta conducts her trial. I’ll file my own report.’
And if that didn’t cause comment in the office, nothing ever would.
‘Would you have preferred an audience?’ Quinn demanded as their colleagues filed out.
‘It doesn’t matter to me either way.’ She would carry through with this whatever happened, though a few-dozen chaperones would have been nice. And safer.