“Okay,” she said, stretching the word out nervously. “I’m sorry.”
“What time is my appointment with Daniel Rickers?” he asked, barely sparing her a glance now as he checked his watch.
“You don’t have one yet,” she stuttered out. “It’s the first thing on my list. I’ll be reaching out to Dodgewood Solutions after this.”
“It’s eight thirty in the morning. Why do you think I asked to see you? I wanted to regroup about what you’ve done so far. Are you saying you’ve done nothing?” He cracked his knuckles absent-mindedly and shifted back in his chair.
“I’ve done things,” she defended, thinking about how long it had taken her to turn on her computer and get her phone working properly. It was hard sorting out if the heat rolling through her body was nerves from his harsh tone or the way his bottle green eyes kept dancing at the scoop neck of her shirt. She’d had to rush out last night and buy a few outfits and this one, in retrospect, might have been too revealing. Calling that an accident was easy, but a part of her knew it had plenty to do with Mr. West and how he might feel about it.
“Just not the things I told you were of the highest importance? You haven’t done those?” He stood, rounded toward her, and leaned against his desk in front of her. His body was inches from her with his arms folded tightly across his chest. She lost her breath but caught it just in time to get a magnificent whiff of his cologne. Libby imagined the musk cost a fortune and was named something like stallion or had no name at all, just a symbol that you had to draw for the sales person to know what you wanted. All she knew was it brought out something animalistic in her that had been hibernating for a long time. But nothing beat it back to its cave like the idea that she was failing.
James spoke and yanked her back to the sad reality that she wasn’t likely to keep this job, and worse she didn’t get to feel his tongue tracing up her back. “I think you and I both know you aren’t cut out for this job. You should be, your work history says you are, but I’m guessing whoever your last boss was had very little in common with me. You are not prepared to work for a man like me.”
She wanted to stand, hop out of the chair. That’s what a strong woman would do. She tipped her chin up and stared at him. If she couldn’t feel strong, she’d at least act it. Fake it until she could make it. “I would like to be judged on more than just one hour of work. You’ll have your meeting with Dodgewood Solutions.”
Finally standing, she had to squeeze her body by, brushing against him as she passed. Her shoulder touched the rock solid mass of his chest, and she wondered if he heard her lose her breath. He caught her elbow and walked her back a few steps until she was staring up into his face. When he let her go she felt naked, as though his hand had been the cover she’d been wearing all her life and now it was gone.
“James,” she breathed out as she felt his hand again on her elbow, trailing down her arm to her wrist. Instinctively her other hand reached for his waist. His rock hard muscles flexed under her touch. And she said only his name again, this time with a lusty desire she couldn’t hold back. “James.”
He pulled her wrist up higher, and she thought for sure he leaned over her and shut his office door. Nothing was on her mind but the desire to hike up her skirt, spread her legs, and welcome him inside of her.
“Your burn looks better,” he said coolly as he inspected her arm like a distracted doctor. “You should keep putting aloe on it.”
“What?” she asked, dropping both arms down and backing up a few large steps as though he’d just sprouted vampire teeth and intended to suck her dry.
“Save us both some time, Liberty,” he said, keeping his voice annoyingly flat. “You’re in over your head.”
“I’m not,” she croaked out, feeling her face blazing with embarrassment as she wondered if anyone outside the office had heard his assessment of her or the way she’d been saying his name so desperately.
“I’m looking out for you,” he said gently, dropping his arms down and tipping his head to the side. “You don’t strike me as someone who likes to fail.”
“Mr. West,” she choked out, sheer embarrassment keeping her from calling him James again, “I can do this job. I need to.”
“You can get another job,” he said, inching even closer to her. His smoldering gaze was screaming that he wanted her but his words kept contradicting. “I know it’s not easy to admit when you don’t have what it takes. Maybe you and I can get a drink and talk about it.” One of his eyebrows was cocked tantalizingly high, and if swooning made a sound, she’d be buzzing with the noise. The idea of a heady buzz and the peeling away of clothes filled her mind.
“I,” she breathed the word out softly as she tipped her head back, expecting to be kissed, but the kiss didn’t come. He was close enough now to pull her into his arms. But he didn’t. He just continued to stare down at her, drawing in deep intentional breaths as though he was employing all his self-restraint.
It was time for Libby to face facts. He was not going to kiss her. He was not going to quench her insatiable thirst for him. “Are you saying I have to sleep with you to keep my job?” she asked, fighting off a hopefulness she shouldn’t be feeling. If he answered yes, that would be wildly inappropriate. Illegal. And absolutely . . . undoubtedly . . . amazing.
He smiled an out-of-place grin, and she tried to get a grip on what he wanted from her as he spoke. “Quite the contrary. I won’t get involved with an employee.” His voice was firm but in a low hiss, close to her ear, he said, “I don’t like messy strings attached. I’m saying you should quit, find another job you’ll be better at, and in celebration of your new job we could see what happens after that drink.” The smile that spread across his face was like nothing she’d ever seen before. His eyes danced with excitement and she was sure if she was brave enough to look down, his flat-front, tightly tailored pants would be stretched under the pressure of his eagerness. Their breaths seemed to match for a few inhales and exhales as the silence hugged in around them.
“The job . . .” she quivered finally, “I can’t give up this job.” The corner of her eyes filled with tears, and she cursed her raw emotions and the quick way they flared. Most actresses worked tirelessly to learn to cry on cue. Libby had more trouble trying not to cry when her nerves were raw.
James was backing away slowly, clearing his throat, and eyeing her as though he were greatly disappointed. “Then if you want this job so badly, go do it.” She watched him settle in behind his desk and fiddle with the knot on his tie as he dismissed her silently.
“How can you consider this a fair option?” she asked, and the cracking in her voice made her angry. “I mean you’re basically telling me I’m going to suck at this job and I’m going to fail. Well believe it or not, some of us weren’t born with a silver spoon up our ass like you.” The words were banging into each other quickly as she felt the urgency of the situation grow. Split in half with desire and the weight of obligation to other people, he was leaving her with nothing. Give me this job or take me right here right now on your desk . . . But he wasn’t doing either.
“I’m positive that’s not the saying,” he retorted with a reluctant laugh, leaning back in his chair as if to get a better look at the show she was putting on.
“Whatever,” she huffed. “You’ve had everything handed to you. I can tell by the way you treated people yesterday.”
“And how was that? I’m curious to hear what you think you saw yesterday.”
“Just getting rid of them like they don’t matter,” her voice raised a few more octaves.
“I didn’t fire a single person yesterday. They all left.” His smug reply, his response to things with fact and reason, did nothing for her right now. She wasn’t looking for logic.
“Why would so many people walk out on you? Maybe you should ask yourself that.”
“People left because they are afraid. Everything at West Oil will change, and many of them have been with the company for decades. They want thing
s to stay the same.” More logic – didn’t he know that had no place in an argument? “I pegged you as far more passive than this,” he said, folding his hands together and resting them under his chin thoughtfully. “You have some fire in your belly, don’t you?”
“I am normally passive,” she admitted with an unsteady voice. “I’m not quitting this job. And I don’t intend to get fired. And as for sleeping with you . . .” She lost the words as the train in her head derailed. The thought of his naked body hovering over hers completely cleared her mind of other thoughts.
“As for sleeping with me,” he said, gesturing for her to continue.
“I, well, I mean obviously,” she stuttered out as she gestured at his body. “Of course I want to, well . . . I mean, who would say no?” She clenched her fists in anger at herself as she regained composure. “I will not be quitting.”
Nothing in her life had ever made her want to throw logic to the wind the way sleeping with James West did. It would cost her everything. The math should be simple, yet she still considered it might be worth it.
“The people who walked out of this office yesterday,” he said, folding his arms over his chest and sounding very serious, “aren’t brave; they’re cowards. Brave would have been staying on, taking the risk, and working their asses off to make sure West Oil had a future. They took the easy way out, and I don’t need people like that on my team. I can appreciate your position, but sometimes it’s better to just give in to the inevitable. Don’t fight it.”
With those words Libby remembered how West Oil had used the same argument to convince her mother not to pursue a lawsuit. This tactic was painfully familiar.
“Like father like son,” she barked out angrily. “You’re a cold-hearted bastard.”
His face read like it had been slapped and left stinging, her words clearly striking him. She waited for him to counter, to say anything, even kick her out. But he sat silently. His nostrils flared and his face grew red with apparent anger.
“I will get you that meeting,” she insisted, tipping her chin up in defiance as she quickly left the office. Her body was equal parts repulsed by and drawn to him.
James gripped the pen in his hands so tightly he could hear it cracking. Who the hell does she think she is? Liberty was plenty employable. Surely if she left her job here she could find something else quickly. There was no reason for her to cry about it. No reason to look so desperate while in the next breath turning him down and looking tortuously conflicted.
Her giant warm eyes had glazed over with the hint of tears, and in an instant he wished he weren’t so damn compelled to help her. Fix whatever was wrong. It had happened. She’d activated that impossible-to-ignore mechanism in him that made him want to take the pain from her face. Any woman in trouble made him want to hop into action, but something about the way Liberty seemed to melt into deep conflict, fighting with herself, ate at him. Even with the deep insult she’d hurled at him, he couldn’t stop trying to analyze her aching reaction.
It was all over her face. She wanted him. The blaze of pink that overtook her cheeks when they were together, the way she’d raised a hand up and touched him with such hunger. She was ready for his kiss. The only protest was the need for this job. A silly argument considering how qualified she seemed for a high level position.
“What are you doing with her?” Mathew asked in frustration, stepping into his office a moment after Liberty had stepped out.
“What do you mean?” James barked, in an equally annoyed tone.
“Are you playing games? Is she just a toy or something you’ll get rid of eventually? We need a strong assistant. I’m sure she’ll be it, but not if you keep making a run at her and she shoots you down again and again.”
“You don’t know shit, Mathew. She’s not cut out for this. That’s the difference between you and me. You hold out hope for people, and I face facts. Take a good look at her. Is she going to get us the meeting with Asher Barrington? Is she going to muscle her way into the places we need? She’s weak. She’s timid. I’m not saying she’s a bad person. I like her but we need someone fierce; that’s not her.
“So fire her then,” Mathew shrugged, calling his bluff. And that’s exactly what it was. James wasn’t going to fire her. Not after she’d just pleaded for her job and left in near tears. Now all he wanted to know was what was ripping her up inside.
“Start looking for someone else, and let’s see what she can do in the meantime,” James commanded. “Might as well get what we can out of her.”
“I don’t think you’re going to get what you want out of her,” Mathew remarked coolly. “She doesn’t seem interested, which I know must be a foreign concept for you. I hate being around when you don’t get your way. It’s ugly.”
James raised his arms and tucked them behind his head. “But you forget, after it gets ugly I always end up getting what I want.”
Chapter 8
“Yes,” Libby shouted, pumping her fist in success. She’d finally snagged a meeting with Axel Elerond even though James was sure she wouldn’t be able to.
“What are you celebrating?” James asked as he stood from behind his desk and rounded it to get closer to her.
“I did it,” she said, tossing her arms around his neck before she had time to realize how ridiculous it was. She gasped at her stupidity and made a quick move to step away, but his arms were around her holding her in place. Her breasts were pinned to him, the hard plane of his stomach, divided into ab muscles, pressed against her. With the slightest, nearly imperceptible arc of his back she felt his pants, filled with excitement, brush against her.
A moan left his lips and she thought she might melt into a puddle, heat raging through her. They’d been dancing on this line and now their toes were creeping over it. A hug was all right. Yes. A congratulatory embrace by two willing coworkers wasn’t bad. But her body was insisting she grind against him, steal the pleasure greedily from his body.
She’d been in such a heightened state of arousal in his presence that she knew a few well-placed touches would have her legs buckling. For a woman who always played it safe, this hug felt treacherous. Like she was hanging by one slippery hand off a cliff ready to let go and plunge into the danger below.
“I don’t know what we’re celebrating, but I’m hoping it’s that you wised up and got another job so we can go back to my place and hug with less clothes on.”
“Um,” Libby stuttered out, remembering suddenly that all these things could not happen at once. It was job or sex. Critically important financial security for her whole family or hot sex with a man who looked like he could deliver a handful of orgasms faster than someone could deliver a pizza. Dropping her arms and flushing with a mix of lust and embarrassment, she expected him to let her go. But he didn’t.
Instead he spun her so her ass aligned with the top of his desk. He didn’t need to spread her legs, that happened on sheer instinct, and he responded by filling the gap instantly with his body.
“You’re going to keep this up?” he asked, clutching her hips tightly. “Your willpower can’t be this good. No one’s is.”
“I’m responsible,” she said, kicking her head back and gasping as he drove his body into hers. Pretending it was solely for the extra need for balance she clutched both his biceps.
“Fuck responsibility. This will be worth it.”
“I have an idea,” she said, digging her nails into his arms as he pushed his hardness against her warm, pulsing desire.
“Oh yeah?” he asked, whispering hot breath into her ear.
“You should quit,” she offered, leaning back just enough for him to see her coy smile. “Then I wouldn’t be your employee anymore. Problem solved.”
“Are we not doing this right now?” he asked, his fingers dancing over the buttons on her shirt. “You know you want this. You want this so bad.”
“I do,” she admitted, giving in to the need to rub herself against him. “And so do you. Just let me keep my job. Chan
ge your stupid rule.”
“I—” she watched him draw back and clear his throat. James was not accustomed to showing weakness. Her calling him out for wanting her so badly had shifted the power between them and killed the moment that had been building. When he released her she felt colder than she’d ever felt in her life, like she’d fallen through an ice pond and her body would never warm again.
“You are a complicated woman, Liberty.” He kept his lusty intense look fixed on her. “It’s pissing me off.”
“And turning you on?” she asked, nibbling on her lip.
“What were we celebrating with that hug?”
Righting herself, coming back down from the sexual frenzy her body was in, she remembered why she’d been so happy. “You have a meeting with Mr. Elerond tonight.” She grinned. “It’s a little unconventional, but you wanted face time with him and now you’ve got it.”
“How unconventional?” James asked with a skeptical glare, his eyes finally rising up from her breasts and fixing on her face. Libby had been working her ass off every waking minute, and so far she’d managed to keep up. But he always seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop. And frankly, so was she.
“He’s leaving on vacation with his wife and son in the morning. They’re celebrating his son’s bar mitzvah tonight. You are cordially invited to attend. The only catch is his wife can’t know you’re there on business or she’ll kill him.” She brought her hand up toward her face and could smell his cologne on her fingers. It would have only taken one brave leap and that dirty little hug would have been lit like a stick of dynamite. If she’d have kissed him. If he’d have torn open the buttons on her blouse. But it was becoming clear, neither one would be the first to give in. She had to admit, as stressful as her life was, there was something intoxicatingly pleasurable about this game they were playing.
The Barrington Billionaires Collection 1 Page 6
