“No,” Jared said deliberately, “I didn’t.”
Alexander’s eyes glittered. “I’ll give you a decision within the week, then.”
Jared nodded. Said his goodbyes to Davide. The older Frenchman looked heartsick as he kissed Bailey goodbye, and Jared had to smile. She had that effect on men. Now what was he going to do about it?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
FOR THE FIRST hour and a half of their flight back to San Francisco, Jared tore through the wrap-up from their presentation with quick efficiency. He fired a list of to-dos at Bailey, marked items for follow-up and outlined his vision for how he saw their marketing evolving. He wanted to expand her ideas to other partners, make them a cornerstone of their strategy, and although she loved the idea, she was too tired, too emotionally exhausted and too wary of him to really take any of it in.
Were they ever going to have that talk or was he just planning on forgetting they had ever happened?
Her stomach rolled. Had she turned him off that badly?
Jared repeated something in that relentless, authoritative tone that was getting on her nerves.
“What?”
He gave her a long look. “Need a break?”
She threw her notebook on the table in answer, stood and crossed to the tiny windows to stare out at the inky darkness. The snap of his laptop closing cut across the silence.
“Consider our business concluded for the evening, then.”
Something, some edge to his voice made her turn around. He was watching her with that strange, contemplative look he’d been giving her all day since they’d walked out of the Maison building, their presentation behind them.
He pressed a button on the console and asked the attendant to serve the champagne.
She lifted a brow. “We haven’t won yet.”
“You need to be a more positive thinker.”
Her chest tightened, lifting her shoulders. “Alexander could still follow through on his threats, Jared. Choose Gehrig.”
“He won’t. He wants Project X.”
“And if he continues to play games for the sake of it?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Then I’ll reinvent myself. Frankly, I’m very much in the mood.”
He was in some kind of mood, that was for sure. Another side of him she couldn’t read.
Betty, a young, attractive twenty-something brunette with an eye for Jared, bustled in with the champagne and poured it into two flutes.
“Get some rest,” Jared told her. “We won’t be needing you anymore.”
The brunette put the champagne bottle in the ice bucket, flashed Bailey an “I am so jealous” look and disappeared.
Jared picked up the glasses and crossed over to hand one to her. Warmth seeped into her cheeks as his fingers brushed hers. “You know what she was thinking.”
His blue eyes glittered with intent. “Then she’d be right wouldn’t she? I don’t intend to spend the next thirteen hours studying our stock price.”
Her pulse sped into overdrive. “We haven’t even talked yet.”
“So let’s talk.” He lifted his glass and tipped it at her. “You were magnificent in that room today, Bailey. Absolutely brilliant. You have earned my trust, earned my respect. You can stand by my side any time and I would be lucky to have you there.”
Oh. She rocked back on her heels. His gaze remained on her, purposeful, intent. “You had the room in the palm of your hand. Including me.”
Her stomach contracted. “I don’t know about that.” She rested her glass against her chin, “The garbage trucks woke me up this morning. And there I was standing at the window watching them and I knew you were right. If I don’t deal with my garbage, with my past, and accept that it’s a part of me, I will never truly move forward.” She looked up at the man who had never doubted her, not even once, when so many people in her life had. “I wanted to win this for you. That’s all I knew.”
He captured her free hand in his and tugged her forward. “I didn’t walk away from you last night because I didn’t want you, Bailey. I walked away because I wanted that woman, the woman who blew my mind in that boardroom today.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m still figuring out who she is.”
“I know,” he said softly. “Every time I watch you struggle and triumph, it touches something inside of me. I can no more remain immune to you than I can stop the sun from rising in the morning. And that terrifies me.”
Her heart slammed against her chest, loud and insistent.
“Last night,” he admitted, tracing his thumb over her cheek, “the thought of Alexander getting anywhere near you made me crazy. I had to tell him he would never have you because I want you. I don’t want anyone else to have you. But I’ve never been that man, Bailey, the man who sticks. I don’t even know if I’m capable of it.”