by Terri Austin
Iain nearly fucking shivered at her tone. “Fine. Sit.” He gestured toward the chair and took his own seat behind the desk.
Brynn remained standing. Heat must be licking up the sides of her neck, because it was turning red again. “My employer informed me that you require customized training for your employees. Can you give me some insight as to what you might need?”
Iain’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to her acting so robotic, so cold. He wouldn’t put up with it. Iain pressed the intercom button. “Amelia, two coffees. And bring those Danish things. My guest could use a dose of sugar. She’s in a sour mood this morning.”
Brynn’s lips tightened, but she didn’t say a word. Walking forward, she placed her bag on the floor and gracefully sank into the chair. Lowering her notebook, she opened it and clicked her pen. All without glancing in his direction. “Please describe the challenges your business is facing and goals you wish to achieve.”
“No.”
Her eyelashes fluttered, but still, she didn’t take her gaze from the book in her lap. “What do you mean, no?”
“This is a pointless exercise. I don’t intend on answering any of your little questions. You should observe the office and tell me what we need. Then we’ll see if you and I are on the same page.”
“I think—” She licked her lips and clutched the pen until her knuckles grew white. “I think you could use a lesson in common courtesy.” She’d summoned up every ounce of gumption to tell him what he already knew. As she inhaled deeply, her chest rose, pushing those tiny, beautiful tits out farther. He’d feasted on them last night. Touched her long, plump nipples. His fingers involuntarily twitched around the dice as he ached to do it all over again.
“Courtesy is gobshite. Why not just be honest?”
“You want honesty? Fine. We both know I’m not here because of your business. You’re manipulating my time in order to see me again. How’s that for honest?”
“I figured you’d be too embarrassed about last night. But you weren’t shy when I pinned you down or made you come. And you weren’t bashful when I was sprawled out on top of you. In fact, you were every bit as keen as I was, until your annoying neighbor came barreling through the door. Then you retreated into your shell like a turtle. But you’re not going to go running scared this time, Brynn. I won’t allow it.”
“You think I’m afraid of you?” She was breathing heavily now as she met his gaze.
“Oh yes, love, but more importantly, you’re afraid of yourself.” Her eyes widened and she recoiled. That’s when Iain knew he’d struck a nerve. “Look at it this way—you can teach me how to value and nurture my employees, and I’ll teach you to assert yourself. Seems like a fair trade.”
“You don’t want to help me. You want to…” She left the sentence unfinished.
“Fuck you? Course I do. You want to fuck me too. You’d admit that if you were honest rather than courteous.”
Now her whole chest and face were infused in a deep, dark red. “I really dislike you right now,” she muttered.
Iain grinned. “Good. I’d hate to settle for anything tepid. Did you think, after last night, I’d really let you walk away? Oh wait, you don’t walk, you run.”
“And Iain Chapman always gets what he wants.” She sat back and crossed her legs and then her arms. Her tiny body bristled with indignation. This was the part Iain gloried in—her passionate nature. It went hand in hand with her caring, generous heart.
“That’s right, pet. Always. Without fail.”
“What about relationships?”
She cocked her head to one side and her eyes became less heated and more analytical. That calculating look made him wary. His natural defenses clicked into place. He liked her anger better—it was more predictable. “Interested in my love life, are you?”
“No, I’m interested in Marc.”
Iain felt a pang of jealousy rise to the surface. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on either side of his laptop. “Marc is taken.” Ice coated his words and anger boiled inside Iain’s chest. He’d been sitting here, waiting for over a goddamned hour just to see her again, and now she was suddenly interested in Marc? “He’s my best mate. He knows you’re off-limits.”
Brynn’s lips pursed. “I’m not talking about Marc and me. I’m talking about the relationship between the two of you. How often do you argue?”
Relief flooded through him and Iain’s shoulders dropped—he hadn’t realized they’d been hitched up to his ears until that moment. He leaned back in his chair. “We argue sometimes. So what? Don’t you ever argue with your sisters?”
“He looked very peeved when I entered the office a few minutes ago.”
Iain fingered the dice once more. “It’s not just me he’s rowing with—it’s his girlfriend, Melanie. Besides, he’ll get over it. He always does.”
“Avoiding conflict in the first place is better than apologizing later. Perhaps we could work on honing your interpersonal relationship skills.” She marked something down in her book.
“Oh yes, let’s. Though you and I got very personal last night, didn’t we?”
Brynn jabbed her pen at him. “That is not—”
“Appropriate?” he finished for her.
She opened her mouth to say something else, something he’d probably find very amusing, when a knock sounded on the door and Ames wheeled in a cart. “Here we are. So nice to see you again, Brynn.” She steered it toward the sitting area and poured out two cups of coffee. Amelia straightened. “Let me know if you need anything else. And you”—she jerked her chin toward Iain—“behave yourself.”
“Bugger off.”
“Don’t let that grouchy exterior fool you, Brynn. Inside, he has a heart of gold.”
Iain scoffed. “You’ve gone soft in the head, woman.”
Amelia winked at Brynn and left the office, closing the door on her way out.
Brynn was staring at him again with that penetrating look, like she was trying to see inside his brain. He almost preferred it when she acted all shy and stared at her feet. Almost.
He pocketed the dice, then stood and strolled over to the couch. “Come over here and sit. I’ll tell you what I’ve got on the agenda today. You’re late, you know. I expected you to come hurtling through that door an hour ago.”
Brynn wandered over to the corner seating area but didn’t go near the sofa. She was wary of him, clever girl. She perched on the edge of the chair instead, trying to keep some distance between them. Like that would work. Iain planned on keeping her close by all day, every day, until he broke down the last of her barriers. Never give an opponent a chance to regroup. Brynn may not be his enemy, but the theory still applied.
“I don’t hurtle,” she said, in a prim, shirty sort of way.
“Of course you don’t love.” He offered her a cup of coffee. “You duck out while the shit hits the fan.” He gestured at the pastries. “Which do you prefer, lemon or strawberry? They’re both good.”
“Neither, thank you.” She half stood and accepted the coffee, giving Iain the tiniest glimpse of the valley between her breasts. Her bra was ivory, and he spotted a hint of lace. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Iain fought the urge to touch her again, lick her, arouse her until those puffy areolas deepened from powder pink to dark rose.
He slapped a napkin on the coffee table and set the pastry on top. “Eat it—you’ll love it.”
She met his gaze. “I’m not hungry, but thank you.”
Oh, this was her way of telling him to fuck off, her little act of rebellion. It was a small thing, but he’d let her have it. With the morning sun falling across her dark hair and tanned skin, she looked bloody beautiful. There was a defiant gleam in her eyes. Iain might let her win these minor skirmishes, but he would win the war.
Brynn glanced at the napkin and stroked her thumb along the embroidered blue moon. “You named your company in honor of your favorite soccer team?”
He paused in surprise. “Football team.
What else do you think you know about me?”
“There wasn’t much to find.”
Iain crossed his long legs and got comfortable. He paid talented people to keep it that way. Iain only released what information he wanted the public to know. The rest was personal, and no one else’s fucking business. Not even Brynn Campbell’s. Hypocritical, since he’d dug into every area of her life? Add that to his list of sins.
She was quiet for a moment as she stared into her cup. “Iain, I really don’t think this working situation is conducive for either of us. You’re undoubtedly busy. I have work to do. Real work. I’d like to find you someone who’s adept at teaching in an unconventional environment. I feel that would be more beneficial.”
“Sorry, love, not interested.”
“I strenuously object.”
Iain grinned at her phrasing. “Stop being so polite. I won’t burst into tears if you tell me to fuck off. Say what you mean, Brynn. I always do. People may not like to hear it, but at least I’m honest. Come on, try it. You’ll feel better.” He took a bite of his pastry and calmly chewed.
She set her full cup on the table as her small, straight nose flared ever so slightly. Oh, she was well and truly brassed off. “I won’t give you the satisfaction.”
“It’s not my satisfaction I’m worried about, darling. It’s yours.”
Her gaze slammed into his. Gripping the chair, she leaned forward, pressing her lips together, still holding back.
“Tell me to get stuffed, then. Go on.”
She jumped to her feet. “You are…totally unbelievable.”
A burst of laughter escaped him. He couldn’t help it. She stood there, vibrating with rage, and all she could muster was a limp description of his outrageous behavior. He set the Danish down and brushed his hands together as he stood. “We both know that, love. Come up with something original. I know you can do it if you try.”
“This is over. I’m out of here.” She turned and stormed back toward the desk, picked up her bag, and slammed her notebook closed.
“Before you leave, there’s something you should know.”
“I’m not really interested in what you have to say right now, Iain.”
“Oh, I think you will be. Your boss, Cassandra Delaney, has mismanaged what should be a successful business. She’s nearly run the thing into the bloody ground.”
Brynn slowly straightened and turned toward him. “What?”
“She’s not embezzling, not as far as I can tell, but she’s reckless with money. Her overhead is high, and she pays herself three times more than what she should be taking given the bottom line. The Delaney Training Center is sinking. Sooner rather than later. This influx of cash I’m providing, it could mean solvency.”
Brynn blinked a few times. “So what you’re saying is, if I don’t stay on this job, she could lose everything?” Her face, so bright and red a few moments before, drained of color.
“That’s it in a nutshell all right.”
“She told me she could use the money, but I had no idea things were this bad.” Brynn ran a finger over one brow. “I have more work than I can handle. The business should be on track.”
“I imagine she gives you enough work for three people. And you do it all without complaint.”
Brynn nodded.
Instinct demanded that Iain crush Cassandra Delaney and her business into a pile of dust. How dare she treat Brynn this way? Iain felt proprietary, like a dragon guarding what was his. Brynn’s not yours. Not yet, but she would be. “I could buy the business if you’d like.”
Her eyes flew to him. “Is that your answer for everything?”
“Most things.”
“I don’t need you sweeping in like some white knight to rescue me from my boss.”
“Don’t you?”
“No.” She appeared startled at the sound of the word. “That’s the second time I’ve said that today. No. No I don’t want you to try and save me or ruin Cass or anything else that ridiculous.”
“Pardon?” Iain Chapman was never ridiculous, not even when he was wankered from drinking a pint too many. “Wanting to help you isn’t ridiculous.”
“You don’t want to help me.” She flung the words at him as she raised her voice. “You want to play with me. You want to fuck me.” Brynn pressed a hand to her abdomen and shut her eyes, trying desperately, he supposed, to get a handle on that glorious fit of pique. When she opened them, she seemed calmer. “We need to stop making this personal. How did you get this information about Cass’s business? For that matter, how did you know where I live?”
“I pay people for data. It wasn’t difficult to find your address. A simple deed search did the trick, I believe. As for TDTC, it took a couple of days to get the records.” He didn’t like admitting that to her. Guilt twisted in his gut, sharp as a knife. After all, his file on Brynn was as thick as a bloody catalog. But the truly interesting bit was that she didn’t doubt his word, didn’t ask to see proof that Cassandra Delaney was near the end of her financial tether. On some level, Brynn trusted him—just as she’d trusted him last night. Iain held on to that, even though he didn’t deserve it.
Brynn lowered her bag to the floor. “It seems I can’t quit, unfortunately, so let’s stop dawdling and get to work.”
Now that was just offensive. Iain didn’t dawdle. He was up by four every morning, exercising, reading the financials, and in the office by seven. He was neither ridiculous nor a dawdler. Time to set her straight about a few things.
With long strides, he moved toward her. Her eyes grew large as she took a step backward, her legs hitting the edge of the chair. When he came within reach, he leaned down until his face was close to hers.
“You seem very confused by who I am, pet. I’m not ridiculous or frivolous or fucking stupid. My time is sacred, and today, I’m giving it to you. So you’d best appreciate the sacrifice, yeah? And in the interest of total disclosure, I’m going to kiss you now.” He cupped her shoulders and, keeping his eyes on hers, lowered his head, bit by bit.
But as Brynn watched him move closer, she grasped his sleeves, clutching at the expensive material. When he was mere centimeters away, she closed her eyes and tilted her head backward. Brynn Campbell wanted this, wanted him. But she was going to fight him every bloody step of the way.
When he didn’t kiss her, her eyes fluttered open. “What? What’s wrong?”
He released her and straightened. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going to kiss you now. I think I’ll wait until you ask me. Nicely.”
Brynn’s arms fell to her sides. She angled her chin toward him and the tendons in her neck stood out. “You’re a jerk, Iain Chapman.”
That put a smile on his face, but he knew she could do better. Time to dig deeper, Brynn. “Am I, now? And yet, I had you naked in minutes last night. Doesn’t say much for your judgment, does it?”
As her breathing became more labored, that gauzy shirt brushed against his suit jacket. He wondered if her nipples grew hard with the contact. Lord knew his cock had. She glared up into his mocking face. “You’re awful and pushy and arrogant.”
“Yes. I am. What else?” That ethereal quality mixed with her rage was fucking magnificent.
“And I hate you,” she ground out. She must have immediately regretted the outburst, because her fingers flew to her mouth, as if to shove the words back inside.
Yes, he’d indeed burrowed right under Brynn’s skin, and Iain didn’t plan to let up. “And how did it feel, getting that off your chest?” The same chest where his eyes kept straying.
“I apologize, Iain.” She tore her gaze from him and stared out the window at the wide blue expanse that blanketed the city. “There’s no excuse for that kind of talk in the workplace.”
“I think we’ve already established that this isn’t a normal working relationship, Brynn.”
“You like pushing my buttons.”
“Yes, I do, but you’re right. I should let you get to work.” Iain’s intui
tion told him to back off. He’d poked at her enough for now. Any more and Brynn might flit out of here for good, no matter how much her boss needed this contract. “Let’s announce what you’re doing here, and then I’ll set you up in the conference room.” He crossed to the door, assuming she’d follow. But when he glanced back, she hadn’t moved.
“I need to assess your needs first. That’s why Delaney was contracted in the first place. We should get your course out of the way. Start at the top and work our way down.”
“We’ll do this my way,” he said.
“You’ve paid us for our expertise—why not utilize it?”
“Another bit of wisdom from a woman who’s never owned a business.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Tell me, out of all of the people who teach these helpful seminars, how many of them have their own companies?”
Brynn nibbled her lips while she considered the question. “I don’t know. I should do an analysis on that. But the fact remains that you still need to complete your leadership training.”
“And I will. We’ll start after lunch.” He held open the door and waited for her to collect her things. Then, with a nod to Amelia, he led Brynn through the outer office.
After clapping his hands and snapping at everyone to gather round, the employees stood near the center of the room, waiting. Iain glanced at Brynn and she nodded encouragingly.
“Right, listen up. You all met Brynn the other day. She’s here to sort out our training needs. Answer her questions and don’t give her any trouble or you’ll deal with me.”
They continued to stare at him.
“Well, that’s it. Get back to work.” He turned to Brynn. “How was that?”
“You didn’t swear, so we’ll consider it progress.”
Iain grinned and led her to the conference room. “I’ll have Ames send everyone in, one by one. You can quiz them to your heart’s desire.”
Brynn took in the wall of heavy curtains. They hid the sun and gave the room a gloomy, depressed air. She set her book and purse down on the long, wooden table and moved to the bank of windows, parting the lined material. “This is an amazing view.”
