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High-Powered, Hot-Blooded(13)

By:Susan Mallery


"I'm not a child to be placated."

"I'll take that as a no."

She wasn't afraid of him. In the back of his mind, he appreciated that  she was sitting calmly while he ranted. Most people couldn't do that.  They were too aware of his size, his background, his ability to  physically rip them in two if the mood struck.



She shifted toward him. "It's not a bad idea."

"You're not the one who has to pay for it."

"You're paying for it already," she said reasonably. "Parents have to  miss work because their day care isn't available. Or they can't stay  late because of the hours. It's out of their control and that makes  people worry. Worried people don't do as good a job."

"I'm not offering in-office day care. It's ridiculous."

"Why?"

"It's expensive and unnecessary."

"Do you know that for sure?" she asked.

"Do you know that it really helps?"

"No, but I'm willing to find out if it does. Are you?"

"I don't come into your classroom and tell you how to teach. I would  appreciate it if you didn't come into my business and tell me how to run  it." The anger bubbled again.

"I'm not doing that. I was talking to a group of your employees and they  spoke pretty passionately about it. I said it was an interesting idea  and something you'd look into."

"You do not speak for me."

"What was I supposed to do?" she asked, a slight edge to her voice. "As  far as they're all concerned, I'm your girlfriend. The entire point of  this exercise is to make the world think you're a nice guy. Nice guys  listen to good ideas."         

     



 

He couldn't take much more of this. "It's not a good idea. I listen when the person talking has something worthwhile to say."

"Oh, and I don't?" Now she was glaring. "Do I need an MBA to be worthy  of a meeting? No wonder everyone was afraid to speak at that party. You  don't allow them to communicate without your permission. Do they have to  get it in writing in advance? Not listening to anyone else must make  for short meetings. But why have a meeting at all? You're so damned  all-knowing. That must make their jobs easier. You issue proclamations  and they go forth and produce. What a concept."

She was seriously pissed. Her eyes flashed and color stained her cheeks.  She actually leaned forward and poked him in his shoulder.

"Don't be a jerk," she said loudly. "You know this idea has merit. Other  companies have put day care in place successfully. Maybe you're  right-maybe it won't work, but the current system is causing problems.  So fix it. Contract with a couple of day care places so they'll stay  open later. Offer a program that allows employees to pay for day care  with pretax dollars. I'm saying that if people who work for you think  there's a problem, then there's a problem, whether you like it or not."

He leaned back against the door. "You about done?"

"No. The people at that party tonight were scared of you, Duncan. That's not a good thing."

He knew she was right about that. A frightened workforce put more energy into protecting themselves than into the company.

"I don't want them to be afraid," he admitted. "I want them to work hard."

"Most people can be motivated by a common goal a whole lot better than by intimidation."

"What intimidation? You're not scared of me."

"I don't work for you. Well, I guess I kind of do, but I know you. They  don't. You can be a scary guy and you use that to your advantage. Maybe  that was a successful strategy at one time, but now it's getting in your  way."

"I'm not going to get all touchy-feely. I don't care about their feelings."

"Maybe not, but you don't have to be so obvious about it. You know I'm  right about the day care problem. You should look into it."

She was right, dammit. Even more frustrating, he wasn't pissed anymore. How had she done that?

"You're a strange woman, Annie McCoy."

She smiled. "Part of my charm."

It was more than charm, he thought, reaching for her hand. He laced his  fingers with hers, then pulled her close. She came willingly, leaning  across the console. He stretched toward her, then pressed his mouth to  hers.

Annie had never experienced makeup sex, but she'd heard it was terrific.  If the fire shooting through her the second Duncan's lips touched hers  was any indication of what it could be like, it was something she was  going to have to look into.

Her body was energized from their argument. She'd enjoyed battling with  him, knowing she could stand up for herself. While he could easily  overpower her physically, emotionally they were on equal ground. And  they would stay that way. A feeling in her gut told her Duncan fought  fair.

She tilted her head, wanting more from the kiss. He tangled his free  hand in her hair and parted his lips. She did the same, welcoming his  tongue. He tasted of Scotch and mint. Heat from his body warmed her. She  leaned closer and wrapped her arm around his neck.

They kissed deeply, straining toward each other. She ached inside-her  breasts were swollen and there was a distinct pressure between her legs.  If the car console hadn't been between them, she would have had a tough  time keeping herself from pulling off his jacket and tearing off his  shirt.

But instead of suggesting they take this somewhere else, he straightened, putting distance between them.

In the dark, she couldn't see his eyes and wasn't sure what he was thinking.

"You're a complication," he said at last.

Was that good or bad? "I'm also a Pisces who enjoys long walks on the beach and travel."

He laughed. As always, the sound made her stomach tighten.

"Dammit, Annie," he muttered before kissing her again. When he pulled  back, he said, "I'm taking you home before we do something we'll both  regret."

Regret? She had no plans for regrets. But not being sure of his  response, she stayed silent. Wanting Duncan was one thing. Wanting  Duncan and having him flat-out say he didn't want her back was more than  she was willing to take on.



Courage was a tricky thing, she thought as she fastened her seat belt. Apparently she needed to work on hers.         

     



 

Annie survived the next two parties fairly easily. She was getting the  hang of meeting businesspeople and explaining that yes, she really did  teach kindergarten and loved what she did. She'd made friends with a  couple of the wives, which was nice, and had met several more business  reporters. The world of the rich and successful was less intimidating  than it had been at the beginning, as was Duncan himself. The only  regret she felt was that he hadn't kissed her again.

She told herself it was probably for the best and in her best moments,  she actually believed it. Duncan had made it more than clear that theirs  was a business relationship. Anyone who didn't listen only had herself  to blame if it all ended badly. She had been warned.

"What's in the box?" Duncan asked, after they'd left the marina hotel and were driving back toward her place.

She'd brought it out with her on the date and had told him she wouldn't discuss it until after the party.

"Christmas decorations," she said. "For your place. A small thank-you for all you've done."

He glanced at her. "What kind of decorations?" he asked, sounding suspicious.

"Nothing that will eat you in your sleep. They're pretty. You'll like them."

"Is that an opinion or a command?"



She grinned. "Maybe both."

"Fine," he said with a sigh. "Come on. I'll even let you put them where you think they should go."

Before she realized what he was doing, he'd gone north instead of south  on the freeway. Fifteen minutes later, they pulled into underground  parking at a high-rise condo building.

Annie told herself to stay calm. That his bringing her home didn't mean  they'd gone from a fake couple to a real one. They were friends, nothing  more. Friends who pretend dated. It happened all the time.

She followed him into the elevator where he pushed the button for the  top floor. A penthouse, she thought, feeling her stomach flip over. She  shouldn't be surprised.

The elevator opened onto a square landing. There were four condo doors.  Duncan walked to the one on the left. He opened it and flipped on a  light, then motioned for her to step inside.

The space was large and open, like the lofts she'd seen on the Home and  Garden channel shows she liked. There were hardwood floors, a seating  area in the middle, a flat-screen TV the size of a jumbo jet, windows  with a view of Los Angeles and a kitchen off to the right. Her entire  house, including the backyard, would easily fit just in what she could  see. No doubt his place had more than one bathroom. Maybe she could send  the twins over here to get ready on Friday nights. There would be a  whole lot less screaming for the mirror at her place if she did.

Duncan closed the door, then glanced at her.

"It's nice," she said, taking in the neutral beige walls and taupe sofa. "Not a lot of color contrast."