20

He rubbed soap into firm, hard muscles but the physical contact only awakened feelings he would prefer to be subdued and, abruptly, he terminated the shower and roughly toweled himself dry.
Whether he liked it or not, he couldn’t get involved with her. The only thing he could do at the moment was force himself to go back to bed. And if it got too bad, he could just jerk off… while imagining that he was in bed with her.
_______
Vivian couldn’t seem to bring herself to get out of her car. She sat in the parking lot, and repeatedly told herself that whether she liked it or not, she’d have to go inside at some point. She almost called in sick that morning just to have an excuse not to face Scott McCall, but she knew that it would be too obvious that she was lying. Besides, unless she planned to quit her job, she’d have to face it anyway, so she’d gotten dressed, slowly, and tried to conjure up some confidence, but it didn’t look like it was coming anytime soon.
She finally stepped out and hurried up to her floor. She hadn’t seen Scott’s car in the parking lot, and that was good, she thought. She’d have more time to get herself together before she had to face him or maybe he wouldn’t even come to the office. The latter sounded much better.
She said a quick hello to Betty and rushed to her office, but nothing prepared her for what she saw waiting for her in there. She found a horribly familiar figure sitting at her desk and felt as though she were being invaded on all fronts.
Long legs were stretched out in front of him, the soft fabric of his suit stretching over the hard muscle of his thighs, and she found herself thinking how broad his shoulders were when viewed from this angle. The jet-dark head was lifted and the face which was raised to greet the sound of her entering could by no stretch of the imagination be described as welcoming, but that didn’t stop her heart missing a beat.
Vivian swallowed nervously. “Good morning, Mr McCall” she said carefully. “You are…you’re here. I mean… you are early. Do you need me to do something for you? What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like?” he questioned coolly. “I’m working… fixing your mistakes actually.”
Vivian gave a pointed look at the expensive gold timepiece which gleamed discreetly above an immaculate white cuff. She had no idea what else to say so she remained quiet.
“What’s this?” he questioned sardonically.” Your half-day?”
She felt so unsettled at seeing him after what happened the previous night, and particularly seeing him sitting there looking so arrogantly territorial, that she immediately went on the defensive.
“It’s Eight o’clock,” she answered. ” The time when most normal people start working.”
He put down his pen with a clatter. “These are not normal times, Vivian,” he replied. “I thought you realized that! Especially after the meeting you forgot to tell me about…you have been slacking off lately too. And, besides, most of the time, I’m already at my desk by seven-thirty.”
Well, bully for you, Vivian thought, but she didn’t say it out loud. She wondered why he was in her office, but before she asked he slapped a huge file from his lap to her desktop.
“I brought these, and I need you to sort through them and get back to me before we close this evening. I also added some tasks for you. Check your mail.”
Was he really going to pretend that he hadn’t kissed her last night? Vivian thought. He didn’t even look like he remembered or acknowledged it. But of course, he didn’t care. He probably kissed so many women and maybe even expected her to be excited or grateful that he’d kissed her. The thought annoyed her.
“Would you like me to get you some coffee?” she asked. If he wanted to act like it didn’t happen, she would play along.
Silently, Scott counted to ten. “No, Vivian,” he said steadily. “I would not like coffee. What I would like is for you to take the weight off those pretty feet and grab yourself a chair-”
“You’re sitting in it,” she said stonily, bristling at the ‘pretty feet’ bit. “This is my office, remember? My desk. And my chair.” As if she realized what she’d snapped – she winced, briefly squeezing her eyes and shook her head.
Scott was surprised at her outburst, but a weird part of him liked it. A lot of weird things had been happening since he met her. Last night, he had decided to stick with having just a professional relationship with her, but seeing her again that morning, all plans he’d made flew right out of the window.
He hoped she wouldn’t disappoint him by turning meek again, he thought. He liked that part of her that lost that control she seemed to always have. He could take it. Take whatever she wanted to give him, whether it was her gaze, her conversation or more. And God, he hungered for the more. Greedy bastard that he was, he’d claim whatever she chose to dole out.
He stared at her like a teacher would to a child who had not presented their work on time. “Yeah I guess it is your office.” he said as he leaned back and studied her.
Vivian couldn’t ever remember being spoken to in such a way-not even in her very first job, when she had been the most junior of juniors. “I’ll do it straight away!”
“Not straight away, no. Here-” He gestured towards the swivel chair beside him. “Come over here and sit down.”
She felt like Little Red Riding Hood being enticed by the big, bad wolf, but there was something so authoritative in his tone that she found herself doing exactly what he said.
“There” he murmured, a glimmer of amusement sparking in the depths of the stormy eyes as she perched on the seat next to his, noting the awkward set of her shoulders and her frozen posture. She really didn’t like him one bit, did she? he observed wryly. “How’s that?” he asked.
It was awful. Or rather, it wasn’t. It was the opposite of awful. She could never remember being so aware of a man in her life. This close, she could catch traces of some subtle musky aftershave, which only drew her attention to the faint shadowing at his jaw. He must have shaved so early, she found herself thinking inconsequentially-and yet already the new growth was visible. The breath caught in her throat; she knew that it would be rude to look away from the dark eyes, and feared that if she did he would sense her discomfort. And realize the cause of it.
“Perfect,” she said lightly. “But only as a very temporary measure.”
Yeah. He wasn’t going to argue with her about that. This was more than a little too close for comfort, that was for sure. He tried to rationalize her appeal, just as he had been trying to rationalize it since the moment he had met her-telling himself that he could put this attraction behind him.
But what was it about Vivian Sanchez? What was so special about those beautiful cat’s eyes and the shiny dark hair? Was her appeal strengthened simply because she was off limits?
He let his eyes drift over her. The simple gown she wore stopped just above her knees and as she sat, it moved upward to reveal her soft, thick bare thighs. Sweet thighs, he found himself thinking reluctantly. Her bare arms were strong and toned and lightly tanned and he found himself wondering if she was an exercise fanatic.
Probably, he decided. But decided that maybe she wasn’t. Where did she have the time to work out if she worked evening shifts at the cheesecake shop? With an effort he brought himself back to the subject in hand, drawing out a sheet of cream-coloured writing paper from the sheath of documents in front of him. “Let’s see what we have here.”
He spent the next minutes explaining and showing her what he wanted her to do, and Vivian forced herself to concentrate. When he was done, he leaned back. “I’m going to need you to arrange a meeting of all the major shareholders-”
“When?” Vivian asked.
“Just as soon as we’ve made some headway with all of this.” There was a pointed silence before he continued. “And we won’t make any just so long as we sit around doing nothing.”
“Are you always such a hard taskmaster, Mr McCall” she questioned softly.
Scott’s throat dried as the words came out like some sultry provocation, conjuring up an image which was uncomfortably erotic. Did she do that deliberately? he wondered. Was she aware that, when she said things like that, most red-blooded men would melt?
“Only if I need to be,” he answered silkily, trying to ignore the lush thrust of her breasts and the hint of cleavage beneath her dress. God, he couldn’t stand a minute more of this than he had to!