by Lauren Dane
“Who?” His hand brushed up and down her arm this time.
The mix of the demanding tone and soft caress messed with her head, but she stayed on track. “How is that your business?”
“Ms. McAdam—”
What little air she managed to force into her body all seeped out again. She actually felt her shoulders slump. “How do you know my name?”
“Does that scare you?” He seemed far too happy about that possibility.
Shithead. “Of course not.”
“Dance with me.”
Oh, hell no. She was wheezing and stuttering and there were still a few inches of space between them. Getting closer? Not a good idea. Not when her usual common sense appeared to stumble in his presence.
“I’m fine here,” she said, feeling the exact opposite of fine.
“I insist.”
There was demanding and there was jerky. Only the smooth delivery and dark good looks kept this guy on the right side of the line. Just barely. “Does that bossy thing usually work for you?”
“Almost always.” This time his mouth hovered over her ear as he nodded to the woman headed right for them in the big white dress. “Look, there’s Elizabeth. Ready to say hello?”
Jordan turned, edging her back toward the bride and angling Forest toward the mass of swaying people. “Fine, one dance.”
A few steps and she went into his arms. A palm pressed low on her back and the fingers of his other hand entwined with hers. His firm yet gentle touch and the mint on his breath had the tension across her shoulders easing. His steps were sure, as if he danced around his office each night.
Knowing his upbringing, Jordan assumed he’d gone to cotillions and polo matches and a bunch of other rich-kid things. With or without lessons, the guy knew how to hold a woman.
Damn him.
Forest looked down at her. “Are you still working for Ryan Peterson?”
She fought off a nasty shiver at the appalling thought. “It was a temp position and is over.”
“You sound torn up about that.” Forest guided her around the floor and away from the more obvious flailing couples out there who stomped and turned and took up more than their fair share of dance-floor space.
“He’s a little...” Jordan searched for a word that didn’t start with ass. “I’ll say different.”
Forest treated her to a huge smile. “What about that the thing where he calls himself Ryan?”
“Right? What is that?” She tightened her hand on Forest’s shoulder. A sexy warmth radiated off him, inviting her to trace his muscles with her palm. She beat back that temptation with an invisible stick.
“He has the maturity of a ten-year-old,” Forest said.
“You’re being kind.”
Forest pulled her in closer. Only a whisper of air separated their bodies and his lips pressed close to her hair and couples passed by them. “Where do you go next?”
The steady beat and gentle sway mesmerized her. It took a second for the words to come together in her head.
She still didn’t get it.
She pulled back and searched his ridiculously handsome face for the answer. “What?”
“Your next temp job.” He led them to an open space on the dance floor and put his back to the crowd. “I’m assuming your office gives you a new assignment as the old one finishes.”
For a second she forgot why she was even at the wedding and what she was supposed to be doing. Hunting down information and providing it to others was her real job and, as predicted, being close to Forest messed up her thinking...a lot. “Yes, but I have the week off.”
“Are you looking for full-time employment?” His gaze dipped to her mouth and lingered there. “If so, I could pass your name on to my human resources department.”
A vision screamed through her head. Her straddling him on his big leather chair for that desk sex Elle referenced. And the sex would be great. Jordan would bet all the money in her savings account on that.
But the vision blinked out as quickly as it had appeared when she realized his offer ventured a bit too close to her mother’s M.O. of getting close to men in exchange for money and engagement rings. She’d known this guy for about ten minutes and he was offering her a job. He didn’t mention strings, but there were always strings. Her mom taught her that.
The whole scene made Jordan wonder if she did inherit the using-men gene after all. Still, he was a temptation....
She glanced around, trying to see if anyone noticed the sudden heat on her cheeks. Backing up came a second later. She needed to keep her chest from pressing against his and wondered when The Longest Song in History was going to be over so she could dash out of there. “You don’t even know me.”
“I figure anyone who could work for Ryan without dropkicking him out the window has some skills.”
She thought that should be a résumé line, as well. “That’s an interesting employee threshold you have there.”
“You could say I have a gift for reading people.”
This guy knew how to say just the right thing at the right time to throw her off. It was as if he reeled her in and then tried to shock her. Maybe she should thank him for the wake-up call, but she was more concerned over this supposed superpower he claimed to have. “Really? What do you think you know about me?”
He looked her up and down, as if sizing her up. “Intelligent enough not to blow your temp job and strong enough to refrain from telling Ryan to get his head out of his ass, though that had to be tempting.”
Relief crashed into her. Nothing to do with Need to Know or checking into her background. She could handle this. “All true.”
“I’m thinking you’re a little down on your employment luck.”
Well, now, she didn’t care for that at all. She glanced down at her royal blue sheath. “Is that a comment on the dress?”
“Definitely not. You look spectacular. Certainly impressive enough to turn heads and get offers, but not so out of the park with a flashy red dress or something similar that would stick in everyone’s minds if they played the ‘who was the lady in that dress’ game later.”
That was exactly the look she was going for, but still. “How romantic.”
“I think it’s all carefully crafted. You know how good you look and how to dress and picked a step away from all-out smokin’ on purpose, but I have no doubt it’s easy for you to get there fast.” The heat in his eyes mirrored his words.
She blocked out the good parts and went with her new insight into his personality. “I’m guessing you think everyone is always working an angle.”
His hand swept over her shoulder. “Aren’t they?”
Time for a surge of self-protective control.
She stepped back again, shutting down all possibility of touching his impressive body even as she memorized how he felt for when she was alone in her bed tonight with Mr. Fancy. “The song is over.”
“Well, Ms. McAdam, we have a few options.” He nodded toward the reception area outside the ballroom and the hotel beyond. “For one, you could join me for a drink.”
Or she could run like hell. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.”
“Ms. McAdam—”
A thought flashed in her brain. “What’s my first name?”
His mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
She put a finger behind her ear and leaned toward him. “Hmm?”
He actually treated her to a little bow. “Touché.”
For some reason the idea of this in-control dude not knowing her full name tickled her. So did the little-boy-caught-doing-something-naughty look on his face. “Meaning?”
“I was never given your first name.”
Score one for strong women everywhere. He might demand a confidentiality a
greement, but he had to know the woman’s name first.
“Then, Forest, it would seem you really don’t know everything.”
The expression morphed back into confident businessman. “But I could find out. I thrive on a challenge.”
Okay, that sounded more like the half-bossy, all-demanding guy she expected. It must have killed him to admit he didn’t know something, but he sure never came off as weak.
Which meant it was time to run. “I’m going to take myself out of this game and leave.”
“Do you think that will stop me from finding out your name?”
Her legs refused to move. “You’re sounding creepy again.”
“You know you have the control. I appreciate women and know what the word no means.”
She long ago learned not to take men at their word for that sort of thing. “If you say so.”
“Ask around.”
She was. She did. No one said anything bad or anything at all. “What makes you think I’m interested?”
“Call it a hunch.” He winked at her. “Until next time, Ms. McAdam.”
Then he was gone.
Chapter Four
Subject Request for Anton Betz: He broke up with me because his mother just died. Any advice on how to navigate this? —Member 37
Response from Member 258: He broke up with me more than a year ago...because his mother just died.
Need to Know admin staff: His mother is alive.
FOREST SAT AT his desk and turned his pen end over end, tapping each tip against the desk blotter as he stared at the note he made at the end of last week’s chain of phone calls—Jordan McAdam. Exactly five days after leaving the wedding, he discovered her full name. Getting her attention took another four days of planning, but today was the day.
He arrived at the office just after seven and two hours later he knew where she went to college, her job history and her current address. The receptionist at Jordan’s temp agency switched from chatty to oversharing without much prodding. Forest made a mental note to warn Jordan about that issue.
He spun his chair and stared out over the Potomac River through the wall of windows behind his desk. From his office on the Georgetown waterfront, he could glance to his left and see the famous Watergate and look across to Virginia. Expensive real estate in a historically protected former warehouse turned sought-after office building. Forest knew every inch of the place because he’d developed the property, leaving the top floor of the four-story structure for Redder Investments headquarters and carving out the best view dead in the middle for himself.
With all the information and resources at his disposal, he’d expected to locate Jordan sooner. He refused to see the unexpected delay as failure. It wasn’t as if he could ask Ryan what service he used to hire his office temp, though the guy did call often enough. Basically, every single day. He’d started with begging and now had entered the threatening phase. Not exactly a tactic that worked with Forest.
A sharp knock had Forest turning his chair around again in time to see Wen stroll in. He shut the door behind him while performing the same combination of frowning and head shaking he’d perfected more than fifteen years ago as captain of their prep-school lacrosse team.
Forest didn’t find it any less annoying now. “Problem?”
The frown deepened as Wen walked over and unbuttoned his suit jacket. He dropped down into the chair on the other side of the desk a second later. “You forget to tell me something?”
“You probably need to be more specific.” But Forest knew. His plan depended on Wen, even though Wen didn’t know that yet.
“I have an office temp sitting outside my door this morning.”
So, Jordan had risen to the challenge. Forest expected as much. Still, a wave of satisfaction spilled through him and he didn’t try to beat it back. “Yes.”
“Care to tell me why?”
Forest wasn’t really prone to explaining his actions, not even to his best friend of more than twenty years. He didn’t plan to start now. “No.”
“Let’s try it this way.” Wen exhaled and the chair creaked as he eased it into a balance on the back two legs. “My assistant has been assigned to some sort of project that, up until twenty minutes ago, I’d never heard of, which is strange since I’m a VP here.”
Forest glared at said VP until the front legs of the chair hit the carpet again. Then Forest jumped back into the conversation, or more appropriately, waded in, since he didn’t go in very far. “True.”
“Did I miss a meeting?”
“No.”
Wen rolled his eyes. “You care to explain what’s going on? Maybe use more than a one-word answer this time.”
“Not really.” Forest couldn’t help but smile as he fired that one off.
The tension that had been building on his friend’s side of the desk whooshed right out again when Wen started laughing. “Smartass.”
Forest sat back, prepared to duck any questions Wen lobbed his way. “As I’ve told you for years, I’d rather be a smartass than a dumbass.”
“I’ll refrain from responding to that,” Wen said. “But, really, what the hell is going on?”
The man was entitled to an explanation, edited as it may be. “Penny is working with the design team for the next week. She has the background and I know she’d eventually like to make the leap into that department, planning interiors and all that. I thought this might be a good time for her to try.”
“Interesting.” Wen’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it became more pronounced.
Forest didn’t care for that at all. “Is it?”
“Please, don’t let me stop you.” Wen swept his hand out in an exaggerated flourish. “Keep providing this illuminating explanation.”
Yeah, not good at all. “With Penny gone, you needed a temporary assistant.”
“And?”
“That’s it. Now I’ve explained.” Forest brushed a nonexistent piece of lint off his sleeve to signal his general disinterest in the conversation.
“You skipped over the biggest part of your riveting tale.”
Forest’s head came up. Yeah, Wen’s stupid smile hadn’t slipped an inch. At times like these Forest wished Wen didn’t know him so well.
Wen finally shook his head. “You’re annoying as hell today.”
“Feel free to leave. You might want to take a look at the title on the door as your ass hits the hallway.”
“So, this is about Jordan.”
Jordan? Since when did Wen call her Jordan? She’d been in the office less than an hour. “Excuse me?”
“You think I didn’t notice you drooling over her back in Ryan’s office?” Wen scoffed. “I’ve seen you in action with women, including girlfriends and your fiancée.”
“Former fiancée.” Stella was very much an ex and would remain that way forever unless he lost his mind, and even then Forest had left orders for Wen to shoot him first.
“Point is, I know the look. You saw Jordan and your antenna went up.”
“Now, there’s a disturbing image.” Almost as annoying as the thing where Wen kept calling Jordan by her first name.
“Imagine how I feel having to watch you.”
“All I did was get you a temp.”
Wen’s eyebrow inched up. “You did? Last I checked, you barely know my assistant’s name.”
Damn it. “Human Resources did.”
“Uh-huh. And the temp in question just happens to the very hot brunette we met at Ryan’s office a week ago.”
Forest waved that one off. “Coincidence.”
“Yeah, stick with that response. It’s totally believable.”
“She needed a position and we had one open.” Never mind the fact she turned down the position the first time HR
made the request to her agency last Friday. It wasn’t until Forest personally called and insisted on Jordan—like, pointed out any use of the temp agency in the future depended on this assignment being filled as requested—that she suddenly became available.
He could hardly wait to hear how Jordan’s office made that happen and what they promised Jordan to get her to show up today. And he would, because he intended to spend some time getting to know Jordan.
He had no idea what it was about her that tugged so hard at him. The D.C. metro area wasn’t exactly at a loss for pretty brunettes with shapely legs. But this one caught his attention in a way that kicked his ass. He hadn’t expected it and sure didn’t want it.
He blamed the wedding setting. Something about seeing her there, skulking around and evading questions, intrigued him. So did the fit of her body against his when they danced.
The way the energy thrummed off her and fire lit in her eyes as they exchanged verbal jabs. So fucking hot.
No doubt she would be wild in the bed. He could sense it. He sure as hell had played a fictional movie of it in his head enough times over the past week. Those legs wrapped around his waist and—
“In other words, you wanted to see her naked, so you stuck her in my office space.”
Forest almost jumped out of his chair when Wen’s voice screeched through his thoughts. It took two throat clearings before Forest trusted his voice. “What did you just say?”
“You do not want her here for business. Well, not Redder Investments business. Personal business.”
“If that were true, I would have put her outside my door as my temp. Close to me in my private office suite.” And the idea did have merit.
“No, you’re more subtle than that.”
In this case, just barely. “Not usually.”
“So, you don’t mind if I ask her out.”
The words bounced off the cherry bookshelves lining the wall. It took a second for the noise pounding in his head to die down, and a few minutes longer for Forest to wrestle the heat burning through him back under control. “She works for you, so yes. I would mind. She is off-limits because I’d prefer not to be sued.”
