And second, she’d been even more defiant with him than she was with other bosses. A part of her feeling he would give her more latitude. That when she defied him, he would at least try to understand her point of view and be a little sympathetic.
But that wasn’t King’s way. He knew what he wanted and he did not tolerate any variance whatsoever.
So she’d finally left. She sighed. Of course, she could have asked for a reference. Her pride hadn’t let her, but it might have saved her those two really tough, lean years.
Now she was just getting back on her feet, having paid off the money her parents had lent her, and even put a down payment on a small townhouse. A place of her very own, rather than living in that cramped apartment she’d rented before.
She didn’t want to go back.
But things didn’t look good. First, missing the meeting this morning. Then ignoring Mr. Baird when he’d summoned her to the Concord Hotel.
The cab pulled up to the hotel and she got out. After paying the driver, she glanced at her cell phone. Jay had texted her where she was to meet Mr. Baird. She walked to the Concierge desk.
“I’m looking for the Peacock meeting room.”
“That’s not a meeting room, that’s a suite, ma’am. It’s on the top floor. Are they expecting you?”
“Yes.”
“Very good. I’ll call up and let them know you’re here. Just take the elevator to the right rather than the central ones. Then turn left when you get off. You’ll see the double doors ahead of you.”
“Thank you.”
Was the whole executive up there in some posh suite while the employees were being treated like lambs sent to the slaughter?
She walked to the elevator and rode to the top floor. As promised, when she turned there were double doors ahead. Dark mahogany with brass door handles.
She knocked on one of the doors.
Mr. Baird opened it. He scowled, his bushy eyebrows slanted disapprovingly and his lips puckered under his equally bushy gray moustache.
“About time,” he grumbled. “Why didn’t you make the meeting this morning?” he demanded as he stepped back to let her in.
“I sent you an email. I was in a car accident.”
Her explanation did nothing to calm his expression.
“You should have found a way. It was important.”
She followed him into the suite. Sunlight filled the large, open space, streaming in the huge windows overlooking the city. There was a large sitting area with two couches and several chairs. Enough to sit at least ten people comfortably. She glanced around but no one else was in the room. There was a large dining table that could double as a meeting area, and a bar beyond.
He led her to the table and sat down. She sat across from him.
“Since you missed the meeting where the executive met the new owner, I had to arrange this special appointment so he could meet with you. That was awkward enough, but then when you refused to come, delaying several hours…” His mud-brown eyes locked on her. “Why do you always have to be such a pain in the ass?”
She pushed her shoulders back. “You don’t know what it was like there for the staff. They were—”
“I don’t give a shit about the staff. I called you, you should have come.”
“But that’s not really Ms. Clark’s way. Is it Rachel?”
Shivers danced down her spine at the sound of that voice. Smooth as silk but iron hard.
She turned to see the last man on earth she’d expected.
King Taylor stood in the doorway leading to a hall which she assumed lead to the bathroom. And probably a bedroom.
She rose to her feet, her stomach clenching.
God, if King was the one who’d bought Brenier Electronics, then she might as well walk out the door right now. He was never going to keep her on. Not after their history.
“You know Ms. Clark?” Mr. Baird asked in surprise.
“Yes,” King said as he strolled into the room. “She used to work for me.”
Baird’s gaze flickered to her, his bravado fading. Clearly, he didn’t know whether to be worried or not. If she was in King’s favor, he must worry that she would use her influence to make it worse for him.
He had nothing to worry about there.
“Baird, we have a lot to do. I suggest you get back to your management team and start things in motion. In the meantime, Ms. Clark and I will have a chat.”
“Of course, sir,” Mr. Baird blustered as he stood up and gathered his notes, then tucked them into his briefcase.
Rachel stood frozen as the man hurried across the suite and out the door.
Mr. King walked toward her and she felt heat wash through her. His broad shoulders and trim waist still filled out a designer suit magnificently. His dark glossy waves of hair, full and thick, framed his handsome face, accentuating his charcoal eyes that always intimidated her. Even when they’d slept together. Theirs had been a tumultuous affair, his blatant masculinity overwhelming her.
Not that he’d ever exerted any pressure on her. It was more like she’d practically thrown herself at him. It had been after a late dinner meeting, where they’d consumed a lot of wine and he’d been a gentleman, insisting he see her home. But as soon as he’d stood up to walk her to the door, fearing she’d lose the opportunity, she’d kissed him, made brave by the alcohol in her system.
He had let her down gently that night, later telling her he wouldn’t have taken advantage of her in that state. But the following Friday, he’d called her into his office at the end of the day and talked frankly to her. Telling her he wanted her every bit as much as she wanted him. And that had been the start of their clandestine office romance, both of them agreeing to keep their relationship a secret.
Now as he walked toward her, she couldn’t help but remember how it had felt to be in his arms. To feel his lips on hers, demanding, taking everything she was willing to give.
And his naked body against hers as they made love. She tried to push away the memory of how big his cock was, how good it felt sliding into her depths. Of how excruciatingly electrifying his lovemaking was, giving her the most spectacular orgasms she’d ever experienced.
And now he was walking toward her. Her body, recognizing him, flared to life, every cell quivering with need.
Was he going to touch her? Goose bumps danced along her skin.
Take her in his arms?
Kiss her?
But he walked past her and continued to the bar. He opened the ice bucket and placed ice into two glasses.
“Drink?” he asked as he poured himself some scotch.
“No, thank you.”
He poured water from a small bottle into the second glass and handed it to her, then walked back across the suite. “Join me.” He settled on one of the couches.
She sat on the couch across from him, clutching the icy glass in her hand.
He sipped his drink and his gaze locked on her. Then he frowned.
“Your head is bleeding.”
She swiped her hand over the band aid and felt moisture. It wasn’t bad, only a small smear on her fingertips.
“Yes, I was in a car accident this morning.” She shoved her hand in her jacket pocket in search of a tissue, but no luck.
“An accident? Then what the hell are you doing here?”
Her eyes widened. “I was under the impression I didn’t have a choice.”
“Rachel, you were hurt in a car accident. No one expects you to carry on as usual.”
“Mr. Baird does. Especially today.”
He stood up and moved to her side, pulling a handkerchief from his own pocket. He dabbed at her forehead.
“Did you have someone look at this?”
“My assistant looked at it when I got to the office.”
“I meant a medical professional.”
She didn’t like him being so close. Didn’t like reeling from the affect of his masculine presence.
“You look a bit woozy,” he said, concern lacing his eyes. “Let me get you to a doctor. You might have a concussion.”
She straightened her back, forcing herself not to lean away from him.
“No, I’m fine,” she insisted.
His expression was doubtful. “We need to have a discussion about what’s happening with the merger, but I’m not going to do it with you in this state.”
“I’m not in any kind of state, I—”
“Hush, I’m not going to argue with you.” He pressed his hand to her back and guided her to her feet. The feel of his fingers against her sent her totally off balance. He slid his arm around her waist and led her to the door.
She felt like an idiot. She could walk on her own. And she certainly didn’t need Mr. King Taylor, multi-billionaire and new owner of the company she worked for babysitting her by taking her to the hospital.
The elevator doors opened and he guided her inside.
“If Mr. Baird finds out I didn’t finish the meeting with you—”
“Don’t worry about Baird.”
His arm was still around her waist, and his body was too close for comfort.
She frowned. “You don’t have to see me downstairs.”
“I’m not just seeing you down, I’m taking you to the hospital.”
The doors opened.
“I can take a cab to the hospital,” she insisted as he walked her across the busy lobby. “You don’t need to come with me.”
“I’m not going to abandon you to a cab in your condition.”