There were hard feelings, all right—they were pressed up against the placket of my pants as she sassed me from behind the computer I’d bought for her. I wanted her beneath me, so we could fight each other until she gave in. Until I saw those impenetrable walls fall down as she sighed my name.
I loved how hard she pushed back. I loved the challenge in her eyes. Loved how good she was at her job. Talking to Deena gave me the same kind of thrill as signing a multimillion-dollar deal. Touching her felt even better.
And she’d told me that I never would again.
As we stared at each other over the top of her desk, I knew she thought that was the truth. She believed she’d played her cards just right, and she’d walk away with the money without having to surrender to me again.
But she was wrong.
“Look at it this way,” she said, clicking her mouse as another email buzzed in my pocket. “Even if you fire me, you’ll get something out of it: I’ve just rebooked a third of your current confirmed travel arrangements to account for customs and immigration time. You would have missed at least a dozen business meetings if you’d kept the itineraries as they were. So you can let me go right now, pay the severance, and you still win.”
Like hell I did. I wouldn’t win until Deena was mine. Mind, body, and soul. The harder she fought it, the more I wanted her.
I took a deep breath, willing calm into my voice. “From now on, I would appreciate it if you informed me of the changes to company procedurebeforeyou email the entire company.”
She held my gaze as she leaned back in her chair. “Of course, Mr. Frost,” she said, all wide-eyed obedience. Except for that little spark of challenge hidden deep in her eyes.
It was that spark that kept me hooked. It was that spark that made the wanting inside me feel like a gnawing, pulsing need.
But she needed time. If I pushed her now, she’d run. I straightened, holding her gaze, and relished the way a tendril of doubt entered her gaze. She wasn’t sure if she’d won this exchange, after all.
“Good work, Ms. Brand,” I replied, and stalked out of her office, feeling her eyes on me the whole way.
Deena remindedme of me at work. She was utterly focused and unrepentantly bossy. It was a complete counterpoint to the way she was in the bedroom—or billiards room, as it were—and it made total sense to me. She kept everything together out here so that she could let go in there.
Except I saw the look in her eyes in the billiards room, before we went all the way. The conflict. The creeping, growing shame. She wasn’t used to letting go at all.
Her first week was a whip crack of new procedures and shuffled itineraries. I left for London on Wednesday and was back by Friday morning, new contract secured and nary a travel disaster in sight. She was right; she’d more than paid for her salary, even if she quit before the six months were up. Not that I was going to let that happen.
By her second week, Deena had charmed most everyone in the office. Especially me. My feelings for her became a twisting, writhing mass in the depth of my gut, growing a little bigger every day. I’d listen for her footsteps. My breath would catch when she’d pass by my door. I’d walk into her office and pretend I wasn’t inhaling the scent of her skin.
Her walls stayed up, but I knew how to bide my time.
On Tuesday around two o’clock, I heard a voice that made me look up from my desk.
“UNCLE CAL!” Lila screamed, brandishing a paper. She sprinted toward me and barreled into my office. Erica and Mary, the nanny, followed. “I drew you a picture at school,” my niece said. She ran around my desk and crashed into me, arms up, knowing I’d be there to lift her into my lap. I did just that, setting her down on my knee as she slapped her drawing on my desk. “It’s you, me, and Mommy. We’re at the park. Look. That’s Zeus.”
Zeus was a dog. When I’d gotten back from North Carolina, I’d taken Lila and Erica out for ice cream. Erica hadn’t eaten hers,but she’d been smiling as we sat there. Lila had made it a mission to pet every dog in the park and had fallen in love with a floppy-eared spaniel.
“You got the exact color of his fur,” I said, pointing at the brown she’d used to draw Zeus.
“Yep,” she confirmed, nodding.
A soft smile pulled at Erica’s lips as she eased her way down into a chair. My ribs tightened at the sight of her the way they always did, because she didn’t walk so much as shuffle, and her face was lined with exhaustion. But she was out of the house, and she was smiling. That was something.
“Thank you,” I said to Lila. “I love it.”
“Will you hang it up in your office?”
“Definitely. Where should I put it?”
“Hmm,” Lila said, studying her surroundings. She slithered off my legs with the drawing in her hands, marching around the room to find the best spot to hang her artwork.
My sister’s gaze met mine. “That second opinion you wanted agreed with my normal doctor. He doesn’t want to do another surgery. He says it looks like the treatment is going well, and he agrees with my current treatment plan. I’m almost through the worst of it, according to him.”
I dipped my chin. It was good news, but it made me feel powerless.
“Right here, Uncle Cal!” Lila called out. She was holding her drawing up in the middle of the biggest wall, between two pieces of very expensive artwork.
