by Virna DePaul
“Oh, I’m just a worker bee,” she said lightly. Her self-deprecating comment seemed lost on Branden, who inclined his head in a nod, casting an appraising look at Cara that made her nervous—and snapped her back to something like reality.
Max turned to Cara. “I tried to tell you at the party, but you took off before I could introduce you to the host—and D&M’s new owner. The announcement was supposed to be made at the party but Branden here got tied up.”
Cara felt herself blushing and Branden’s mouth quirked.
“Anyway,” Max continued, “deal done. We signed on the dotted line at dawn. Now I can retire. Get in some golf, chase divorcées. Boca Raton, here I come.”
Definitely too much information, although Cara figured that Max’s jokes and chatter were for Branden’s benefit, not hers. Generally speaking, Max barely noticed her, even though Dubois & Mellan was considered a small firm by Wall Street standards. But Cara smiled politely.
“Congratulations on the purchase,” Cara said to Branden, but didn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Hope you like your new boss,” Max went on. “Of course, you might not see that much of him after today. He’s bringing in a few folks to work the day-to-day aspect of the business. The Duke likes to operate behind the scenes. Bet you never heard of him.”
The Duke? What an odd nickname. But it fit the man. Whom until last night, she’d never even heard of. “I hadn’t,” she said reluctantly.
Branden didn’t seem to mind her truthfulness. The creases framing his sensual mouth deepened for a second but he still didn’t quite smile. “Then I’ve been successful.”
“Never mind his bullshit,” Max said bluntly. “Believe me, he’s a mover and shaker on the Street. A real big, swinging—never mind. How many companies do you own now, Duke?”
“Five.”
Max guffawed. “Used to be fifty. And all of them were worth twice what he paid for them upon divestiture. Just don’t unload this one too soon, Duke. I’m kinda sentimental about it.”
Cara had nothing to add.
Branden had bought the company and could sell it if he wanted to, but she hadn’t been fired yet. If she was…
If she was, she’d be out on the street. So would her mother and her brother. She wasn’t worried about herself. She could crash with Iris. If needed, her mother could stay with a distant relative. But her brother…
Her big brother, Glenn, had always been her biggest supporter. He’d always stuck up for her. Taken her for rides on his bike. Let her hang out with his friends. But then, after he turned seventeen, over the course of a year, he’d changed…become withdrawn. Apathetic. Flat, like he had no emotion. Until he started seeing things. Believing things. Hearing things.
Things that were not there.
Schizophrenia, they’d learned. And even after the difficulty of coming up with a diagnosis, came the even more significant difficulty of finding treatment. Glenn’s mood disorder was severe, and didn’t respond well to conventional treatment. Meds helped, but only to a degree. He’d found a balance in his life by living in an assisted-living facility, but it was private and cost a small fortune.
A fortune she paid for.
Panic rose in her throat but she valiantly pushed it down, reminding herself that if she lost her job, it wouldn’t be too long before she found another. Dubois’s recommendation would get her in anywhere on the Street. It could even be time to move on if it turned out that she didn’t like her handsome new boss.
The old boss slapped him on the back. “And I like this girl, too. Watch your step with her. The watercooler talk says she doesn’t fool around.”
Cara hadn’t ever seen Max Dubois hanging around the giant blue plastic bottle. But there was a touch of protectiveness in his remark that was nice—and unexpected. She was suddenly sorry the funny little man was departing the firm he’d founded before she got a chance to know him better.
“Noted,” Branden replied, his gaze steady on hers.
Max moved around restlessly, as if he wanted to get going. “Listen, Cara, you gotta stay in touch. I mean that.”
“Thanks, Max. I can’t believe you’re going so soon, though.”
“Ah, this guy knows what he’s doing.” Max gave Branden a conspiratorial grin. “I never woulda sold him the company if I thought he didn’t.”
The younger man returned a cool smile. “I promise not to run it into the ground. Neither will the staff I’m bringing in.”
Cara wondered where Branden knew Max from. They seemed to be more than business acquaintances. There could be a family connection, however remote. Besides the considerable age gap, the two men were nothing alike and had to have radically different management styles. Didn’t matter, she reminded herself. She had to keep her nose to the grindstone, do her job to the best of her abilities the way she always did, and she’d stay safe.
Oh, and avoid any more steamy encounters with Branden Duke.
“Okay. I’m holding you to that.” Max offered a breezy wave of farewell as he exited, calling loudly to another colleague down the hall.
Branden lifted his ankle to his knee, looking even more comfortable. The combination of easygoing authority, sensual good looks, and fine body plus seriously long legs could be her undoing. She almost couldn’t believe she’d been close enough to feel everything he had without actually putting her hands on certain parts. Why hadn’t she taken advantage of the moment?
Arousal shot through her. Once again, Cara met Branden Duke’s dark gaze straight on. He seemed to be sizing her up in exactly the same way but with much more confidence, as if he knew exactly what he wanted from her.
But what was that? What did he want? She’d be happy to share her financial expertise, such as it was. Although his success was reason enough to guess that he probably didn’t require her knowledge.
Her best bet would be to lie low and figure out what the hell Branden Duke was all about.
“So,” he began. “You’ll meet some of the personnel I’m bringing in later. The IT team, a new office manager, and a few other specialists. Right now I’m trying to get a scope on who does what, and how well they do it. Tell me what is it you do for the company that’s unique.”
Cara hadn’t expected him to put her on the spot. If only she hadn’t been touted as a rising star when she really was just a worker bee, a team-playing, dedicated, loyal, hardworking, humble bumblebee silently buzzing with annoyance as she looked at him. “Ah—what exactly do you mean?”
“Your analytical methods, innovative approaches you’ve come up with, that sort of thing. Let’s start with the most difficult problem you ever faced here.”
That would be you, Mr. Duke.
“Well. Let me think.”
“Is it really that difficult a question to answer?” he asked.
Or rather, to Cara’s mind, taunted.
She lifted her chin.
Game on.
Chapter Four
Cara stood, and on weak knees made her way to the file cabinet at the corner of her office. She hauled out hard-copy files and printed reports, slapping them down on the desk and turning them around so Branden could read the highlights as she pointed them out. In the last six months alone, Cara had analyzed several multimillion-dollar deals in development that no one but she thought would ever turn a profit. In the end, management had followed her advice and D&M had raked in a fortune. A tiny fraction of which would hopefully plump up her year-end bonus.
But as she explained the spreadsheets, throwing out facts and figures and pointing out profit margins, it took all her effort not to focus on how closely he paid attention…how his gaze flicked from the papers on her desk to her face, then back again, eyes smoldering in intensity…how the corner of his mouth crooked up when she got excited over explaining a formula she’d come up with…how he would occasionally stroke his gaze over her, as if sizing her up.
How his scent wafted over her and how she could feel his body heat as she stood leaning over her desk, t
heir heads almost touching.
And yet she managed to keep her composure. Succeeded in explaining her work. Kept the conversation focused on her work and didn’t so much as hint about the night before. And didn’t let herself get overpowered by this dark and enigmatic and amazingly sexy man.
“So that’s what I do and how I solve problems,” she finished up with barely controlled heat. “Is that what you were looking for?”
“Yes.” He rotated the papers back around. He’d barely looked at them. However, she had a disconcerting feeling that he’d taken in the most relevant information at a glance. That, and Max had probably already informed him of her work and the results.
“I have copies,” she added. “You can take all that with you.” And leave my office, she thought. Before either of us brings up last night. She couldn’t do it—couldn’t discuss what had transpired between them, which had her insides twisted up in a multitude of knots.
The frosty hint went right by him. It was possible that he was somewhat impressed by her diligence and acumen. Or maybe he was thinking of how her ass felt under his hands the night before. She couldn’t tell.
“That’s not necessary,” he said affably. “But thanks.” He remained sitting in his chair. The side chair that Max Dubois had let her pick out for her office along with the desk was now, of course, Branden’s chair. He didn’t even have to leave if that’s what he wanted. God, she wished he would so she could think. So strange this guy pressed her on button so easily.
Tapping his long fingers on the sleek wooden frame, Branden looked idly around her office, skimming his gaze around the space, over her low bookcase, and across her near-barren desk. He frowned.
Did he have a problem with it being neat and clean? She thought a little uneasily that maybe it was too neat and clean. She didn’t want to give the impression that she had run out of work to do after helping to put the company’s balance sheet squarely into the black for the next quarter and beyond. But she also had no desire to show off her personal life through photos and tchotchkes.
Oh yeah, that’s right…she had no personal life.
At least the orchid was pretty.
His gaze stopped at her monitor and then moved to her face.
“One of the first things we plan to do is revamp the computer system,” he said at last.
“Great,” she said with no noticeable enthusiasm. Then she brightened. A really ingenious IT team might manage to screw things up for weeks and they’d all get an in-house vacation. “But don’t tell Max. I think he chose the software himself.”
Branden only shrugged. “It’s out of date. We need to get up to speed.” He gestured to the papers, then spoke again in a normal tone even as he stood and rounded the desk toward her. “Great job on the reports.”
He stopped next to her and leaned close, not quite whispering in her ear, but close enough. “About last night…”
Her knees shook. There it was…mention of the night before. She should have taken the initiative and brought it up first. Admitted to her mistake. But he’d beat her to the punch, and now she needed to respond. And not by jumping him. “It didn’t happen,” she muttered.
“Yes it did,” he said in a low intimate voice. “I’d like for it to happen again. If I’m not mistaken, so would you. Last night I thought you were dating one of my new employees…But now that I know you actually work here…it can’t.”
He fell silent, his gaze seemingly filled with regret.
“Of course not,” she whispered. She quickly glanced at her open office door. What the hell was he doing, starting this discussion here? Now? While he was standing so close? It wasn’t smart. It was madness. And ironically, even as he was telling her nothing could happen between them, the fact he so clearly wanted something to happen was turning her on like crazy.
She sucked in a gasp, inadvertently catching his attention. The corner of his mouth went up in a wry grin. Oh yeah, he knew she wanted him. Damn.
“Last night I was tired,” she said, keeping her voice low. “My behavior was out of line and won’t be repeated.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he said, not exactly looking pleased.
Cara sat back down and put on her reading glasses, then stacked the papers in no particular order, taking the glasses off again and putting them on top of the papers. The hair clip chose that moment to slide off. She twisted around to grab it before it hit the floor, then jammed it back into the desk drawer and pushed her hair in back of her shoulders. Cara knew her cheeks were flushed. Short of pulling out the rice powder she used to eliminate shine and getting the emotionally revealing color down to geisha white, there was nothing she could do about it.
“Now that’s how I remember you,” he said in that low, now-even-more-intimate tone. “It’s no wonder I—”
A trilling voice announced the imminent arrival of its plump owner. “Oh, Mr. Duke?”
Branden didn’t flinch. Didn’t move back even a centimeter. “We’ll have to continue this conversation later, Cara.”
“Why? It’s over,” she murmured.
“It should be. Yet I’m finding it more difficult to accept than I should.”
“Mr. Duke, are you in there?” The voice of Peggy Noyes came again. She still hadn’t appeared when Branden stepped back and returned to the other side of her desk.
“Yes, I am.”
“And you, Cara?” Peggy Noyes tended to talk in questions. Her face appeared, but not the rest of her. “Oh goody. You’ve met Mr. Duke, but there’s someone else you have to meet. And here she is.”
Everything but the trumpet flourish, Cara thought. It wasn’t even nine yet and she’d had enough surprises for a week. Heart still beating wildly, she refiled the papers and reports with trembling hands.
The sound of soft footfalls made her look up. The woman who entered Cara’s office was stunning—young, with a controlled waterfall of glossy black hair and delicately outlined doe eyes. Gold earrings and a couture corporate outfit completed the look.
“Deena Raj, this is Cara Michal,” Branden said.
“How do you do.” The smoothly cultured voice had a slight but noticeable edge. Had the woman overheard them talking? Maybe. Her gaze barely took Cara in before she walked over to Branden and rested a possessive hand on his shoulder.
Cara expected Branden to flush or shift guiltily. He didn’t. His gaze stayed firmly on Cara. She, on the other hand, did her best to dismiss him and focus instead on the woman beside him.
Who wore a diamond solitaire nestled next to a wedding band on her slender left hand.
Branden did not strike Cara as the married type. Not even the divorced type. Chances were Deena Raj didn’t own him despite the way she’d so clearly staked her claim.
She had to be whom Branden had meant when he kept saying we. Cara was instantly on guard, knowing that she would have to be that way all the time if this was her other new boss. The woman was nothing short of perfect.
“Hello.” Cara rose, smiling automatically. Deena’s flawless lips curved as Branden stood up to retrieve the other side chair, setting it next to his. They both sat.
Two against one. Inherently not fair. Cara was grateful for a desk. She needed a defense against all that good breeding and fine tailoring. Not to mention the calm stares they were giving her.
“Sorry to spring so much on you at once, Cara,” Branden said. He could switch from warm to cool in an instant. Yet another reason to be wary of him. She acknowledged the insincere apology with a fractional nod as he continued.
“Deena’s heading up the IT team and she’ll be in charge of revamping the system, as well as the new installation. Not that she does it personally,” Branden added.
Of course not. That’s what minions were for. The lovely and faintly imperious Deena seemed born to give orders to hapless minions.
“She designed the system and wrote the code,” he added.
“Really. That’s great.”
Branden and Deena made no comment. Cara
sensed a slight chill in the air. She struggled for something appropriate to say and settled for, “Will the name of the firm change?”
“Not right away. There’s a lot to do first,” Branden said. “Deena and I have worked together on takeovers and purchases before, of course. It’s almost a routine with us. But every company is different.”
Cara had a sneaking suspicion that these two did way more than work together. The subtle personal warmth in the discreet looks they exchanged, the way they stood just an inch or so closer than mere colleagues ever would, the occasional light touch of Deena’s lovely hand on Branden’s suit sleeve—yeah. Big fat clues, each and every one.
It was entirely possible that Deena spent a fair amount of time in Branden’s great big bed with her long legs wrapped around his bare back, revamping his system for him.
Cara chided herself for her uncharitable thoughts, which she would keep to herself. But she would still think them.
“Well, just let me know what you need me to do,” she said.
“Everyone will receive a detailed memo,” Deena said. “Plus individual attention. You’ll meet Mike Gaunt, our office manager, soon. I understand that your analyses show some insight.” That was not exactly praise. Good ol’ Max had just thrown her to these two wolves so he could go bang golf balls into outer space.
“Mr. Duke and I were just going over six months’ worth of reports,” Cara told her. “I can prepare a complete file for you if you’d like hard copies of anything—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Deena purred. The interruption was soft but definite. “Your entire hard drive has been downloaded into our new server for our own analysis.”
The beautiful lips curved again. Cara couldn’t call that expression a smile. But the informal meeting seemed to be at an end, for which she was grateful.
“I see. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”
“We will. Branden, shall we move on?”
We again. The possessive little word grated on Cara’s ears. She avoided Branden’s gaze as the two of them got up to leave.
