Gabriel might not know the meaning of commitment when it came to women, but you could take his word to the bank in business. His employees—and the entire board for that matter—remained more than a touch intimidated by him, but they respected him and his promises. Not only was he fair, he worked harder than any one of them, and the company was going from strength to strength under his leadership.
Smart, driven, gorgeous, he was more compelling than anyone she’d ever met. He was also the most arrogant.
“I wouldn’t want anyone to get ideas,” he said, the glint in his eye familiar. “Second date and women start thinking about monogrammed towels and engagement rings.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes.
He caught it, of course. “You disagree?”
“I wouldn’t presume to comment on your private life.” No matter how much she wanted to.
“Come on, Ms. Baird, don’t get shy now.”
Charlotte didn’t trust that tone in his voice—it was a dare. Charlotte didn’t take dares. Especially from T-Rexes with very sharp teeth. “Would you like these in water?” she asked, holding up the box of stems.
“You have a mean streak.” Lowering his arms with a scowl, he glanced at the face of the heavy metal watch he always wore. On him, it was in perfect proportion, suiting the heaviness of his bones, the taut lines of muscle in his forearms.
“Damn, I have to deal with the mess Clarke’s made in his region.”
“I’ll get the files.” She stopped in the doorway, the same strange something that had made her comment on his dating tactics poking at her until she said, “Want me to call up the chef and ask her to send you dinner tonight?”
HE WANTED HER.
Petite, intelligent, with a hidden fire in her eyes when he pushed too hard, and a smart mouth he wanted to taste, Charlotte Baird was Gabriel’s version of perfect. “Thank you, but no,” he said to her retreating form. “I prefer not to die from food poisoning.”
Nearly three frustrating months on from their first meeting, and Charlotte was at last no longer so skittish around him. Her quips today cemented his conclusion that she was ready for the next step in this game they were playing, a game of which she was currently unaware. The fact she remained his subordinate at work meant he’d have to take care when it came to how he went about this, but he was going to have Charlotte Baird.
No one and nothing had ever stood in his way when he set his mind on something, and his mind was set on Charlotte, had been for a long time. The patience he’d displayed these past months… she had no idea.
Once he had her, he was going to take her. Over and over and over.
“Ms. Baird, I’m growing a beard while waiting for the file,” he called out, well aware she was printing the latest dispatches on the situation so he could get a full picture.
She strode inside a minute later and placed the file very carefully on his desk, though he could tell she wanted to slam hard, maybe kick him while she was at it. He wouldn’t mind if she tried—he really liked her legs.
Scowling at the professional but bland three-quarter-length black skirt that hid most of the view, he grabbed the file and flipped it open. “This is missing the second half. The entire section to do with the tactless incident that landed his branch on the six-o’clock news.” He’d thought he’d weeded the idiots out of Saxon & Archer, but clearly not.
“I didn’t print out all the documentation, since it’ll be easier for you to click through to related files using the link I’ve just e-mailed you.” She gave him a smile so sweet he was quite certain his PA wanted to strangle him. “I basically set up a private internal wiki for you.”
He was impressed, but he was also having fun riling her up. “Fuck that,” he said and watched her cheeks go bright red, her eyes fiery. “I want a printout of everything and I want it now. I have to read the entire lot before I go screw his head on straight.”
“Here.” Striding around his desk as if she’d lost patience with him—and he’d been trying for a hell of a long time to get Charlotte to lose patience—she picked up the tablet computer he used mostly to watch rugby games when he needed to clear the cobwebs, and switched it on.
Tapping on it, she said, “Input your password.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I am your boss, Ms. Baird,” he said, just to see if she’d give in and kick him at last.
Because that would be first contact, and then he could go after her no holds barred.
Instead, she said, “Please, sir,” in such a sincere voice that he narrowed his eyes.