Page 7 of Carnal Risk

“Yeah?”

“No funny business. This is my career here. I don’t want to see either of your faces in my club. When the contract is over, I’d love to have you back, but until then…”

“Fair enough. But for the record, since you’re in the city at night, you might want to consider some protection.”

“I’m careful. Besides, I’m not there that often.” Selby had always feared going out at night by herself but she refused to feed the dark monster inside her.

“Done on the contract. I’ll text you the address of the complex. Expect some hits on a background check today. Even though I vouched for you, Garrett’s going to vet you like you were going into the FBI. He doesn’t mess around,” Lars warned.

“Not a problem. It’s business.” Selby tried to act nonchalant about his prediction. She didn’t like clients going too far back. Years had gone by but the mere thought of her childhood caused her pulse to race.

Selby wore her most conservative suit, the antithesis of the form-fitting corset she’d had on the last time she’d seen Garrett. As she pulled her car through the heavily guarded gate, she regarded the sprawling location of Emerson’s headquarters. Set in a suburban area, the gated facility sat on several hundred acres of private property. Although she’d worked at similar sized government facilities, this one radiated an aura of wealth with its slick reflective windows and well-manicured landscaping.

“You’ve got this,” Selby told herself, parking her car. She glanced in the rearview mirror and took a deep breath.

The image of Garrett Emerson flashed through her mind. When they’d first met, he’d looked dangerous, his wavy brown hair tousled as if he’d just had sex. Despite his evident arousal, he hadn’t touched her. Cool and collected, he’d resisted, only tugging her corset open after she’d insisted.

Selby smoothed her hand down her blouse, her ripe tips begging to escape the confines of the fabric. She cursed under her breath, aware that she had to get her sophomoric urges under control and focus on business. Developing a crush on Garrett Emerson would cause nothing but trouble. She had no future with someone like him. She reasoned that his reaction to her the other night had been nothing more than a chemical one. She’d tuck the memory away, pretending that it had never happened.

She contemplated what Lars had told her about Garrett’s reluctance to accept help. Whatever had happened to Evan, she considered that Garrett must have relented somewhat about needing assistance. After all, they’d let her in the gate. Still, a nagging worry flittered in her stomach. She hadn’t received the contract she’d been promised. After texting Lars, he’d responded saying he’d meet her at Garrett’s office.

The idea of working with a disgruntled client squelched any excitement she may have been feeling about working with the tycoon. She was confident that she had the experience to deal with the situation, but this was Garrett fucking Emerson. Regardless of any nondisclosure he signed, the man could make or break her, and she’d have to be on her game.

She wore a mask of business competence, deliberately slowing her pace as she approached the building. Two well-dressed men stood watch outside, giving her a warm smile. Ushered inside by the guards, Selby attempted to conceal her amazement as she took in the sight of the enormous atrium. Despite its modern architecture, the potted Majesty palm trees in the lobby brought a sense of warmth to the otherwise stark décor. As Selby attempted to acclimate, her thoughts were interrupted by a male voice.

“Excuse me?” Selby gave a polite smile to a tall well-dressed man who looked as if he’d stepped off a Milan runway. From his impeccable Italian suit to his fine leather shoes, he exuded wealth. A glass elevator sped upward, and she swore she saw Lars staring down at her.

“Hello, Miss Reynolds. I’m Norm, Mr. Emerson’s secretary. He’s expecting you. Please, this way.” He gestured to her to follow him down a long hallway, its black marble floors reflecting up into the stainless steel walls.

“Do you know if Mr. Davenport has arrived?” Lars better have his ass in that office by the time I get up there, she thought. While Selby was impressed by the state-of-the-art building, intimidation never factored into her thoughts. She’d worked hundreds of companies in all kinds of corporate cultures, and this was just one more.

“I’m sorry, I’m not permitted to disclose which guests are in the building. I’m sure that Mr. Emerson will assist you with your inquiry,” he stated, pointing to a silver elevator door.

Selby watched with interest as her escort pecked at the security pad and leaned his face into the iris scanner. As they entered the private elevator, she caught a glimpse of the armed guard patrolling the corridor. His ice-cold glare didn’t falter as she gave him a small smile. The doors zipped shut, and with lightning speed, they ascended. Selby consciously counted to ten, taking slow breaths, keeping her eyes on the numbers that ticked by overhead.

She despised heights and supposed she should be grateful that she’d avoided the glass box in which she’d watched others ride upward. A sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead as it lurched to a stop. Closing her eyes, she regained her composure, clutching her leather briefcase. Long ago, she’d learned to recognize symptoms of the impending panic attacks. Racing pulse. Certainty of death. She’d cough a few times before the invisible throttle around her throat commenced. Breathe. Meditate. No fear, no fear, no fear. As the metal door slid open, Selby forced herself to relax, trying not to appear as if she’d just been chased by a serial killer. Her foot landed on the other side of the grate and her body and mind calmed.

Selby took in her surroundings as they walked onto the executive floor. Every corporation was different. Some were old school with mahogany walled offices for the C-level employees. Others were more egalitarian, with dividers, open cubicles, leaving little privacy for any employee. This, however, was contemporary, sleek. The bright office space was countered with colorful abstract art. Ficus trees grew in the corners, sprouting from ornate in-floor wrought iron planters. Asiatic lilies sat perched on decorative side tables, their sweet aroma permeating the air. Crown molding adorned the walls, with heavy wooden doors leading into individual offices. Selby wondered if Garrett had discovered the secret to productivity via workplace décor or if some designer had simply created the peaceful aura within his corporation’s secretive walls.

Selby eyed a platter of ornate chocolates that had been set out in a small waiting room, but her focus was soon drawn to Lars’ booming voice which sounded from the end of the long hallway. Without asking, she sped past her chaperone. She barely gave notice to his order not to enter the office and didn’t waste time contemplating whether or not to go through the door that was already slightly ajar. As it flew open, she observed Lars standing with his hands on his hips, and his angry eyes met hers. As if she’d slapped them both, silence befell the room. Selby’s attention immediately went to Garrett, whose commanding presence sent a shiver down her spine. Frozen in place, she reached for the courage she knew she possessed on any other given day.

“Do we have a problem?” she asked, feigning confidence.

“Miss Reynolds, please have a seat.”

Selby stood firm as he ordered her to sit. She shook off the fleeting urge to submit to his wish and instead glared at him. His blue eyes flickered in amusement, but the tight line drawn across his supple lips gave no indication of acquiescence. She braced her nerves, anticipating his next command. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been subject to demanding executives in the past. But she’d never felt the hardness of their body against hers, the electric desire that sparked between a man and a woman.

“Are we all sitting?” she challenged.

“Play nice, Selby,” Lars warned.

“Doesn’t sound like you were playing nice? Or do you two like it rough?” Her expression flared with sarcasm.

“Hey now.” Lars laughed.

“Sometimes,” Garrett answered with a small knowing smile, “but I assure you, Miss Reynolds, this is a gentleman’s disagreement. Nothing to worry about.”

“Selby,” she corrected. I bet he does like it rough, she thought. Was he flirting? Determined not to let him shake her, she glossed over his comment and addressed Lars. “Did you bring the contract?”