“You’re such a dear.” Carol sat in her office chair, looking around her new work space with a grin.
Sidney couldn’t help smiling back. “I’m sorry it’s so far away from your department. You might end up hating it.” She straightened a framed photo of Carol’s grandchildren.
“Oh, pooh. I could use the exercise.” Carol flexed her crooked fingers. “I feel better already.”
“Then it’s already worth it. I’ll send an email out to let everyone know that I moved you.”
“Thank you so much, Sidney. So very much.” Carol’s eyes twinkled with such pleasure that Sidney had to curl her toes in her new Jimmy Choos to resist the urge to hug the older woman. Hugs weren’t allowed at Pritchard and Redland. Not since the last sexual harassment claim five years ago.
“You’re very welcome. Now kick out some reports. I need your revised Lawson quote on my desk by five.”
“Of course. I’ll get right on that.” Carol rubbed her knobby hands together and straightened P and R’s Oasis digital devices on her desk. Many of the customer service representatives liked to have the actual device handy when taking calls, but some relied on the computer prompter. Seeing the top-of-the-line technology in the arthritic hands of a grandmother never failed to make Sidney smile.
Sidney turned to leave the padded cubicle. She made it two and a half steps before running into a crisp white shirt. She didn’t have to look up to know who she’d encountered. She recognized the tie as the one he wore during their year-end recap six months ago, and she’d faltered over a direct question when he’d interrupted her daydream of unknotting the red silk with her teeth. She recognized his height. His breadth. His powerful presence. Most of all she knew his scent.
She relished each passing whiff. Although she didn’t have the guts to actually ask him the brand of his cologne, she greedily sucked in lungfuls of the stuff whenever they shared space. Like now. Reluctantly, she stepped back to look up into the eyes of her boss. The man was six feet two inches of sexy. Dark brows shaded dark eyes. His face might have been carved from stone if she hadn’t seen him smile. His smile was the thing that made her knees weakest.
But he wasn’t smiling now.
“Something you want to tell me?” Grant’s low, rumbly voice sent tremors through her.
Sidney licked her lips. “Oh. I moved Carol.”
“I see that.” He raised one brow. Surely he knew how sexy that move was. Surely he did that just to weaken her knees.
“I’m sorry, I should have covered this with you first, I just—”
He raised one hand. “I pay you and the rest of the management team here to make decisions. If I have to approve every move you make, I wouldn’t need you, now would I?”
His upper lip thinned to almost non-existent, a clear sign that he was annoyed. Sidney swiped her tongue across her lips again, then she took a closer look at the crinkle in the corner of his eye. He was playing with her, like a big tomcat batting at a tiny mouse. He enjoyed getting under her skin. Every time she squirmed under his authoritative attitude she caught a glimmer of amusement behind those eyes. Crossing her arms, she met his gaze without faltering. She’d worked with him for almost two years, and she knew exactly what put burrs under his saddle too.
“No, sir.” Two little words, always enough to steal any laughter from his eyes. As predicted, nostrils flared. She tried like the devil to hide her smile.
“Follow me.”
With pleasure. She walked behind him, with thoughts of the company picnic, when he showed up in a pair of loose-legged jeans that defined his ass with more love than the suit pants she saw him wearing five days a week. At least on “Casual Friday” he went without a suit jacket.
He led her down the hallway until the carpet changed from industrial to plush, muffling their footsteps as the chatter from the customer service calls faded. He stood aside at the door to his office, gesturing her in ahead of him. Ever since her sex dream three months ago—which began with that very move—Sidney couldn’t stop her libido from perking up each time she entered the masculine space.
“Have a seat.” He waved her to one of the two leather chairs facing his desk. “I’m not saying you made a bad decision, but before your cohorts line up at my door asking about the move, I need an explanation.”
Sidney remained standing, and clasped her hands in front of her. “Is there a problem?”
“You tell me.” He left her standing, and sat in his huge executive chair.
Doubting that her current problem was anything similar to his, she moved her clasped hands behind her and waited. The man hated awkward silences almost as much as being called Sir. Luckily she had patience in spades.
“Have a seat.”
“I have things to do.”
“Departments to disrupt?”
Sidney tilted her head. “I haven’t disrupted anything.”
“You took Carol from the Customer Service area and stuck her smack dab in the middle of Tech Support. Sounds like two departments disrupted.”
“Customer Service is right across the room. The only difference is the cubicle color.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “Don’t you think there’s a reason why the two departments are grouped together in their own areas? Did you think it was just great interior design to keep the colored cubicles together in nice neat little corners of the space?”
“No. I mean yes, I know.” She compressed her lips together to stop her stammering.
It looked like he might smile, but it disappeared as quickly as it formed. “Have a seat, Sidney.”
She sank into the chair without another word.
“This company has a team full of productivity researchers. Well before you and I arrived on site, these talented folks decided that keeping the departments together would cut down on lost time due to employees walking across the room to get their collaborative work done. Are you saying that these fine ladies and gentlemen were wrong?”
She took a gamble that she wasn’t in any real trouble. “No sir.”
“Sidney—”
“I wasn’t calling out the productivity gurus. My decision had nothing to do with their grand plan.”
The vein in his temple ticked, which meant he ground his molars. Still, she knew damn good and well he enjoyed their banter as much as she did.
“And?”
“And like you said, you pay me to make decisions, so I made one.” She purposefully kept her answers short. She had her reasons for moving Carol. They were valid and once he heard them, he’d agree with her decision. All the more reason to let him wait on her explanation.
“I’m just not sure you thought through your decision and how it would affect P and R in the long run. Tomorrow I’ll see Jason out there moving his people from the Field Work floor into the mail room. Next week the entire building will be shifted, no one will know where the hell anyone or anything is. When those productivity gurus—” he raised that sexy eyebrow “—come back in wondering what happened, I’ll just explain that I pay you to make the decisions.”
“Thank you.” She stood. “If that’s all—” She flashed him a cocky grin before taking two strides toward the door.
“Sidney.” He blocked her path before she even realized he’d moved. “I just want an explanation.”
She flashed back to the company picnic, when he’d beaten her at the watermelon seed spitting contest and she’d retaliated by pushing him into the public pool. She was the queen of Pritchard and Redland for weeks afterwards. Even he had shied away from her in mock terror. How she’d love to exert that power over him again. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a body of water in sight.
“I’d planned on emailing you and the team with an explanation, but before I could, you insisted on this meeting.” She hoped her deep breathing wasn’t obvious, but damn, the man smelled sinfully delicious.
He snorted, shaking his head. “You’re such a brat.”
This time it was her eyebrow that shot up.
Don’t start. If she jumped into the playful insult swapping he’d started, she would end up getting herself all worked up over something that could never happen. Their bickering was the highlight of every day, but it was the epitome of bittersweet. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Then explain the move so you can get back to work.”
She took one more deep breath, one more lungful of his scent to take back to her desk. “Carol’s productivity has dropped twenty-three percent. Her reports are turned in with typos and errors that weren’t present six months ago. She’s had to retype many of them, often while on a call with the customer. After digging a little deeper, I found there’s a vent above Carol’s cubicle that sporadically blows cold air directly on her workstation. She said she reported to maintenance months ago, but they claim nothing can be done about it due to the fresh air intake on the roof and the direction of the wind.” Sidney rolled her eyes. “She’s blasted with frigid air all winter. I sat her down only to find that her arthritis has been acting up, making typing difficult. She shakes like a leaf forty hours a week. Surely you’ve noticed the six layers of clothing she piles on as soon as she gets to work?”
So much for not getting riled up. She’d even stepped into his space, his aura warm and powerful, and so forbidden.
“I…I haven’t, actually.”
Did the Unflappable Grant Porter stammer? Saving that victory to revel in later, she pressed on. “Of course you didn’t. While I’m busy being the brat, you’ve got macho covered. You didn’t notice Joyce’s engagement ring, why would you notice Carol’s sweaters? You probably didn’t notice the fact that the area nearest to the south-facing windows is too warm for most employees, and the cubicle that I put Carol in has been abandoned since the personnel cuts in Tech Support last quarter. I seriously doubt you noticed the smile on Carol’s face when I walked away from her ten minutes ago. That’s the difference between being a brat and a bastard.”
She snapped her mouth shut. She’d called him a bastard before, but always in jest. Always with a smile. She might have crossed the line this time, but she didn’t back away. It was too late now, no use pretending she didn’t say it. He was too sharp for that. Sidney held her ground and waited for either his devilish smile or her walking papers. What she got instead was something completely out of left field.
His warm hand on her ribcage. Right above the curve of her waist. Not a caress—that would have sent her into an orgasmic spasm—no, just a touch. Barely. Light enough that she could rationalize that it wasn’t there. To acknowledge it would be to call him on it. She didn’t even glance down to see for herself or he’d pull away, and she’d never feel that warmth again. She stared into his eyes, rigidly resisting his magnetic pull. If she leaned into his chest, she’d embarrass herself and hump his leg right here.
“I admit I’m not the most perceptive guy in the world. In fact, I never did thank you for the email about Joyce’s engagement so I could properly congratulate her and Orson.”
Sidney swallowed. This man could work her into a froth of righteous indignation one minute and then have her melting like a stick of butter in a frying pan the next. He was sexy as hell, and it frustrated her to no end. Humping his leg still wasn’t out of the question.
“And you can blame my Y chromosome, but I wouldn’t notice Carol’s sweaters if they lit up and had my name sewn on them.”
“Well, that’s true.”
His hand moved slightly, enough to remind her that she wasn’t imagining his touch.
His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “There are a lot of things I do notice.”
Sidney wanted to cross her arms again, shield herself from this onslaught of pheromones. But to do so would jostle his hand, and she wouldn’t push him away for the world. After two years of working for and with the man, this was the first time he’d touched her anywhere other than her hand in greeting, or a slug on her arm when he teased. This was different.
“I noticed your new shoes today.”
Sidney blinked. The fog cleared, and her heartbeat changed from slogging and aroused to a fast-paced staccato. “You did? You didn’t say anything.”
His gaze dropped to the shoes in question. She’d never admit to thinking of him when she tried the almost-too-sexy-for-work heels on in the store. They might as well have the words fuck and me printed on the toes.
She swore she could feel the heat from his gaze as it worked up her legs, past her pencil skirt, along the pearl buttons of her silk blouse, and back to her eyes. “What I’d like to say isn’t appropriate for the workplace.”
Oh, shit. Sidney stuffed down her excitement. Surely he couldn’t mean what she wanted him to mean. To cover, she snorted her amusement. “Less appropriate than calling your boss a bastard?”
Holding her gaze, he nodded. Twice. Slowly. “I also notice the way your heart beats like a rabbit’s every time you come into my office. I notice how your pupils dilate when I get close to you. On the very best days I notice other things.” His gaze dropped to her chest, where without her permission, her nipples beaded, poking through her flimsy bra and shirt like little show-offs.
Now she had to choose between stepping away from that warm touch and stepping closer into his heat.
Cut and run, Sidney. Regroup. You’re seeing things that aren’t there. Cursing herself for being a chicken, she stepped back, and almost whimpered when he didn’t follow her, and his hand dropped away.
“You must be desensitized to being called a bastard. That’s really sad.” She lifted her chin, praying her eyes didn’t transmit the clawing need she felt, but she knew without a doubt that every sign of arousal he’d just enumerated was plainly displayed on her body. “If that’s all, then I’ll get back to my duties.”
If she didn’t know better, she could swear his breath wasn’t as even as it was moments ago either. Those flaring nostrils shouldn’t be so arousing either.
“That’s all for now, Sidney. I’ll be waiting for that email.”
Sidney spun on her three-hundred dollar heel and walked out his office with a completely unintentional wiggle of her ass.
For now.
* * * * *
She knew she didn’t have to go through with it. In fact, to do so was just turning the thumbscrews on Grant’s patience. She hadn’t been fired for pushing him into the pool that summer day, and he’d only shaken his head and glared after she’d sent the stripper-gram for his birthday. Her plan today was nothing like that. Still, something deep inside drove her to hang out in her office until the building emptied out at five o’clock.
She smiled the entire time she dismantled the gray cubicle, and even as she struggled to drag each blue panel from storage, though she had to kick off her shoes to do it. When she was finished, Carol’s new workspace stuck out like a sore blue thumb among the sea of gray. She hung Carol’s homemade name plate back on the entrance, its apple cores and gingham painted border so suited to Carol’s personality.
Perfect. She dusted off her hands and slipped her shoes back on.
“I think brat is too kind a label for you.”
Sidney spun around. She hadn’t expected anyone in the building, let alone the one man she’d wanted to surprise with this project at eight o’clock Monday morning, but there he stood, not five feet away from her with his tie undone and draping over his shoulders. Two buttons were undone at his neck.
She braced both hands on her hips. “I’m tired of being a brat. I want to be a bastard like you. My hero.”
He stepped around Julianne Havill’s cubicle and approached her. “You’re a girl. You can’t be a bastard. You’d have to be a bitch.” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t see you as a bitch.”
She cocked her head, tamping down the rise of desire that bubbled out of control with each step he took toward her. “Girls can be whatever boys can be. My mother told me so.”
“I’ve got bastard covered. If I were you, I’d stick with brat.”
She rolled her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I forgot something.”
Sidney shrugged. “Go on then. Get your something. I’ll lock up when I’m done.” She turned her back on him, picked up the screwdriver, and tightened the screw that was already secure before moving onto the next for the same futile treatment. She almost thought he’d walked away until she felt the wall of heat against her back.
“You’re something, you know that?”
Righty tighty lefty loosy. “Mother told me that too.”
“I really doubt your mother thinks the things I do when I look at you.”
Righty lefty loosy tight…uh…tighty…
“If I’m reading this wrong, you could have me fired.” His breath washed over her cheek and down the front of her shirt. “If I’m not wrong—and I hope to hell I’m not—we could both lose our jobs.”
The screwdriver fell to the ground with a muted thud, and she flattened both hands on the padded wall. Her mind swam with responses. Actions. If she were anyone else she’d simply turn and kiss the hell out of him. If he were anyone else she’d drag him into the storage closet and say to hell with her career.
“Am I wrong?”
Sidney couldn’t concentrate. She couldn’t remember what his question meant, but she latched onto one word. “It’s wrong.”
“Is it?” He lined his arms up alongside hers. The fraction of an inch between their bodies was almost as arousing as full body contact.
Sidney stood frozen, afraid she’d wake up from a fevered dream to find that her imagination had gotten away from her again.
“It doesn’t feel wrong to me. Does it feel wrong to you?” His low voice rumbled through her, making her shudder like a leaf in the wind. “Fuck, no.”
He laughed. God damn it, he laughed and she didn’t get to see his smile.
“I want you,” he whispered close to her ear. “You’re all I think about when I’m having dinner with another woman. When I’m alone. When I watch dirty movies online.”
“Grant—”
“Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave before I touch you. I’ll never speak of this again. We’ll continue our bickering, and only you and I will know what it truly covers. Or—”
“You’re not wrong,” she whispered. “I’ve been thinking about you for months.” Years.
Finally, he leaned in. He covered her back from shoulder to calf, and even shifted his arms to link their fingers together. If the hand on her ribs felt orgasmic earlier, this full contact was enough to send her through the roof.
“If we do this—” he nibbled on her earlobe “—we’d have to keep it quiet.”
“I know.” She’d gone over the logistics of a fling with Grant in her mind enough to know the repercussions.
“I don’t want to lose my job. I don’t want you to.”
“I don’t either.”
“But when I’m this close to you, and I get drunk on your scent I struggle to give a shit about my career.”
“We can be careful.”
“We can talk later.”
“And now?”
“Yes. Right now. But not here.”
Discussion over, he’d grabbed her hand, pulled her away from her construction project and strode down the hallway.