Tempting the New Boss(12)
“Talking like that is completely inappropriate. Why would you even think you could say something like that?”
He tried to remember why he had said it. It was the pearls maybe. “You don’t look like one of my normal employees. Except for the suit and everything. You look like a woman I’d want to have sex with.”
“You jerk!”
“How am I being a jerk by wanting to have sex with you?”
“You’re being a jerk by saying so.”
“Even if it’s true?”
“Yes!” She paced up and down the narrow aisle of the jet, hugging her arms to her slender frame.
“Even if I’m thinking it?” he persisted.
“Yes. For instance, I’m not saying right now that I think you’re the biggest asshole boss I’ve ever come across in a long, long line of asshole bosses.”
“I think you did just say it.”
She paused to confront him. “Is there something wrong with you?”
He settled back in his seat. “Like what? I’m horny right now, but otherwise I’m okay.”
“First I’m supposed to teach you social skills or good manners or some shit and now this? I’m a lawyer. Not some Martha Stewart sex-for-hire, I don’t know what.”
“That’s a horrible image. I actually had a meeting with her once so I know what she looks like.”
She went back to pacing and tossed over her shoulder, “Everybody knows what she looks like.”
“Really? Well, she looks nothing like you.”
“I’m here to give you legal advice. I thought we were getting somewhere.”
“It doesn’t look like it,” he said under his breath.
“Just because I’m a woman,” she muttered, “you think you can talk to me like this?”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to have sex with a man. I’m not wired that way. Especially not that Shreeman punk.” He adjusted his chair to semi-reclining. “What a whiner.”
“Incredible.”
“You’re kind of whining now, though. But the thing is you’ve got an awesome chest—”
“Enough!” The carpet was taking a beating from her pointy shoes, but she took deep breaths, seeming to reach for some kind of higher power calm as she walked back and forth. Which was fine with him. He didn’t appreciate lawyers, or anybody really, freaking out on him. And he didn’t feel like yelling at her, as just the very sight of Shreeman for some reason had made him want to do. So far, she had been kind of sweet, in the limo with her role-playing and watching out for him at the meeting. She was easy to talk to, even for him.
It was…nice. He…liked her. He turned the unusual phrases over in his mind.
Coaching him through small talk seemed brave of her as well, even if Marcia had instructed her to do it. She struck him as a person who was very level-headed, sensible. Well, not at this particular minute. He was getting dizzy following her with his eyes. He watched her make short work of the length of the plane, again and again, up and then down in no time, arms crossed as if she was freezing.
And of course she was sexy as hell. Her ass, which he hadn’t had an opportunity to observe as she had, for the most part, been walking beside him or behind him or sitting across from him, was, he saw as she paced, high and rounded in her straight skirt. It looked as plush as her breasts.
He still felt like having sex with her, as a matter of fact, despite this odd conversation. But he supposed that was totally off the table.
“Are you trying to offend me?” she asked quietly.
“No.”
She stopped her incessant pacing, putting the brakes on at his seat. “Upset me?”
“No.”
She braced her arms on the overhead above him. “Push me around somehow?”
“No.”
“In some sicko-power trip kind of way or anything?”
Even with the elaboration, it was a no. He shook his head.
She backed off. “So there is something wrong with you?”
“I guess. Can I have my magazine back now?”
Mason Talbot was supposed to possess some kind of astronomical IQ. That must be what the problem was.
Camilla had never dated a genius. But even the densest guy knew he needed a filter. That he couldn’t let whatever sexist, horn-dog thoughts he was having make it directly up to his mouth. Even the dumbest guy knew that!
Not the smartest guy, though, apparently.
It was one thing for her to think her boss was cute and chat with the receptionist about flirting with him. That was just her being a girl for God’s sake. No harm done. Even for him to tell her she had nice eyes wasn’t a big deal.
But quid pro quo, straight out like that? To go to the nuclear option, boss-wise, right to her face! Not locker room talk behind her back, which she knew went on and didn’t offend her any more than she suspected her girlish gab would offend him.