Truth was he hadn't been able to resist.
Her thick, black lashes fluttered, softly, shrewdly in a way that sent a thrill smacking through him. In the last month he'd witnessed the ready smile she had for the waitress who served her morning coffee, the hug she gifted to the front desk receptionist on her way in, the nervous little jig she did when he watched her from the security room, right before she had a press conference-he'd never seen her sly like this.
It made him want to find out what else he'd missed from a distance.
"My client pleaded to be kissed."
"So you did it for your job?" Her chest heaved. Fury, blasted from her gaze, but there in the vulnerable twist of her mouth was something else, an insecurity.
How could she think after a kiss so raw, that it could be contrived?
He took a step toward her, well aware she'd have to tip her head back to maintain eye contact. "As I asked on Friday, do I look like a gigolo to you?"
"I don't know what you are." She stumbled back, out of reach. "But you are fired."
He stared at her. She looked so determined. Too bad he wasn't hers to fire.
"I can't trust someone who's spied on me. If they want me to have a bodyguard-if they're going to blackmail me into having one, then it'll be someone of my own choosing." She backed up again. "And I'll choose a woman for the job so there's no confusion."
"There's just one problem with that."
Her eyes flared. Perfect. A tremor of excitement told him she was going to fight him tooth and nail.
And they were both going to love it.
He leaned closer and whispered. "I don't work for you."
"If you work for Halifax, then I can fire you." She smiled over her small white teeth.
Yeah, this girl wanted to fight. Ached for it. He could smell it in the tension of her muscles. The way she jumped at the opening he'd given her.
"My exclusive three month contract has been signed by the CEO." He watched her expression flicker. "Paid in full. Whether you like it or not, for the next two months you're mine."
Her tongue darted out, and her breaths paused. Did she like that?
Did she like the idea of being his?
"Oh, Mr. Crowe." She shook her head, and the cunning in the movement slayed him. "You're going to have a hard time making that happen."
"It's going to happen, Charlie." He stepped closer, then closer again. "So I'll give you this one warning."
Her heel bumped the wall off window, and her palms flattened behind her on the glass.
"I don't mind a fight, so go on ahead and resist." He bent until his mouth came level with the small white shell of her ear. "Because the more you do the harder I'm going to bring it. It's up to you how you want to do this."
She grabbed his shoulder, then her mouth was against his ear. "You'd better bring it because I'm going to give you hell."
He chuckled. "Then the consequence for resistance will be on you."
FOUR
Charlie spun in her chair. The bastard. No, the bastard's plural. So much for keeping his distance, now the cat was out of the bag Connor no longer bothered with whatever measures he'd taken in the past to keep her from noticing him.
It was bad enough having him watch while she'd had to give the press conference explaining the closures, feeling his gaze on her as people booed.
The perks of being the "face" of Halifax.
She knew why Frank made her do it. To torture her yes, but also to prove that leadership means doing the hard jobs.
She wouldn't be forced out because of her abject loathing of public speaking or the discomfort of having all the negative attention focused on her.
Connor loitered outside her office.
All day, her PA Lia's giggle had rang out periodically. Proving he had some kind of pleasant personality he'd refused to show her.
If they thought they could force her into a corner they were wrong.
She may have to accept protection, but it would be her way.
"Lia?" She pressed her intercom. "May I get an archive box in here, please?"
"Of course."
"Thank you."
She opened her filing drawer, searching for everything she might need if she had to work from home for an undermined stretch of time.
Lia entered, and placed the box next to her desk. "Sure you don't want me to do the archiving?"
"Thanks, but I'll manage." She glance at her PA. "Lia, has anyone claimed those Mariners tickets?"
Lia tucked back a stray blonde curl. "No, they're in my desk."
"Keep them please, I think I know who might enjoy them."
"Of course." Lia left closing the door behind her.
Charlie lunged for the phone, dialing the number for the security room.
"Charlie," the exuberated voice answered in moments.
"Reggie," she replied just as enthusiastically. "How's Maisy?"
"You know, still feeding twice a night."
Charlie grinned. Oh, Frank may not think she deserved to run this company, but the fact was, she'd been raised in this place.
She knew every employee in the building. She knew their spouses, how many children they had, what they did on the weekend. "Sounds like you and Maisy could use a night off."
"If only," he sighed. "Her parents have only made it out from L.A for two visits since Harper came along."
"That's a shame, because I have two Mariners tickets with your name on them … "
"Really?"
The longing in his voice may have caused her a moment's guilt, if she didn't know damned well he was going to get both those tickets and a child free evening.
"You know what, Miranda at the front desk used to be a professional Nanny. In fact she still does some babysitting, I could talk to her?"
"Could you?"
"Of course." She smiled wider. "There was something else I wanted to chat to you about though."
"Yes." His voice dropped.
He knew.
Which meant her hunch had been correct. "I hear you've had a little extra company in the security room lately?"
"Ah, Charlie, I'm sorry. The order came from the top."
"I know, it's fine, really." She stared at the door. "But I thought maybe we could come to a little arrangement of our own … "
Charlie pushed down the handle of the back exit and shoved against the door with her hip, balancing the archive box and her laptop bag.
Perfect.
Her plan was going perfectly. Not five minutes ago one Mr. Connor Crowe had been summoned to the security room by her loyal employee Reggie to look at footage of this morning's incident. Meanwhile the security room screens were running a loop from half an hour ago.
Which meant that smug, lying sonofabitch would have no idea she'd taken her stuff and gotten the hell out of here.
She hoisted the box onto her hip and strode toward her car, sticking to the left of the lot where dim light streamed from streetlamps.
She'd already checked with Melanie if she could spend the night so Connor wouldn't know where to go looking for her.
She grinned. Frank said she had a day to decide. She'd be damned if she'd be forced into anything before she'd agreed to it. Bad enough this had been going on behind her back for a freaking month.
The odd vehicles of late-working staff dotted the parking lot. The crunch of her heels on rock amplified in the space.
Her little red sports car hunched in the corner, dwarfed by the truck looming beside it. She slid her keys from her pocket and pressed the button. Headlights flared in response. Half an hour and she'd be at Melanie's, with a tall goblet of Sauvignon Blanc to take the edge off. Hopefully it'd take the edge off the lusty ache she'd been carrying around since he turned up in her office unexpectedly- even if not in that very first moment, completely unwelcomely.
She sidled up to the car and pressed the trunk release. Yep, she'd need a tall goblet alright. Better yet, she'd stop on the way and get an entire case. Maybe that would wash away the memories of dark blue eyes, the addictive cologne she still smelled every time she inhaled, all which seemed stuck in her mind like a half-watched movie she was desperate to finish.
Charlie nudged open the trunk and bent over, lowering in the box. A door clicked next to her. She jerked up, spinning toward the truck. A dark figure rushed out of the vehicle in a head-down bull charge. She choked on a gasp and stumbled back. The body slammed into her. She fell against the car, her breath forced out of her in a rush.
She raised her head as a meaty hand slapped over her mouth and hauled her back. She sucked air through her nose. Her heart hammered in a sickening tempo. Stale tobacco wafted from the fingers smothering her face.
"Tie the bitch up."
She twisted and jerked like a cat in a pillowcase.
The hand left her mouth and her arms jerked behind her back. She took a lungful of air and screamed. The sound pierced the parking lot.
"Shut her up."
Two sets of footsteps struggled and crunched rock behind her, and a hand clamped back over her mouth. Something thin and cool slipped over her twisted hands then tugged around her wrists.