Ouch, that last part stung. I try to lighten the mood. “So, I take it you read the tabloids?” I smile. “Shouldn’t believe that garbage. I did not seduce the former president’s daughter.”
Heather blushes and turns away. “I don’t know what the hell to believe. But I can tell you I’m freakin’ mad.”
I pull her resisting body into my arms, turn her to face me and plant a kiss on her stiff cheek. “I’m not that man. I’m the man right in front of you.” I circle my hips so she can feel my arousal in her midsection. “And I want you.” I lean down and nibble the base of her neck. “I might have been a playboy in the past, but not anymore.”
She draws back and stares at my face. “Really? After that stunt you just pulled? I’m not so sure.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “What stunt?” I try to pull her closer again, but she’s still stiff with rage.
“You lead my boss to slaughter—in a corporate meeting! Highly unprofessional.”
My own anger simmers to the surface. “Your boss is a worthless drunk. Why would you let the others think he was the one responsible all these years? Why not stand up and take the credit you deserve?”
“He’s a good man. He just has a problem.” She throws her hands up in frustration and breaks free of my arms, pacing in agitation. “You don’t understand! At work, I’m not like I am with you. They don’t see me….”
Understanding dawns. “They don’t see you for who you really are, do they?”
She clams up and turns to the wall of windows. She shakes her head once and wraps her arms over her chest. “No. You don’t see me as I really am.”
Passion fights for its rightful place within her; I see it in the tight hold she has on her emotions, denying who she really is.
I quietly walk toward Heather. “Bullshit.”
She whips around, her eyes glazed with unshed emotion. “What?”
“You have your personal reasons for protecting Harvey, I get that. I don’t agree, but I get it. My father was a drunk—so, I’m a little biased when it comes to alcoholics.” I run a hand through my hair, uncomfortable with what I’ve revealed, but unable to take it back. I reach for her again and this time she doesn’t bolt, allowing my hands to rest on her forearms.
She looks like she’s about to speak. Her features soften with compassion. I rush to continue, hoping to stem whatever she wants to say with that look of pity in her eyes. “I know the woman you’ve shown me the past week and I like her a lot. She wouldn’t take a backseat to those corporate asshats. Especially when it was her choices that made Parkerson worthy of acquiring.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Confusion disrupts the anger.
“We aren’t just buying Parkerson because we want a better in-house advertising firm. It’s because you made investment decisions and bought stock in other companies we find even more valuable.”
She shakes her head, disgust showing on her face. “So, in essence, I’ve helped you buy other companies, too?”
I shrug, unwilling to defend what I do. I make an honest living, never stealing or blackmailing those we’re set on acquiring. We watch and wait, timing our takeover accordingly. “Sometimes, we really do invest instead of buying out, depending on the situation.”
“How can you live with yourself?” Her anger flares again, which appeals more than her self-doubt and pity. “You ruin the dreams of the people who worked hard to build the company.”
“It’s a job. One I’m good at.”
The look on her face changes, becoming calculating. Not a trace of her earlier compassion remains. In the span of five seconds, Heather’s entire demeanor alters. She’s flipped a switch—standing straighter with a look of supreme confidence about her. “Oh, you’re not good. You know what you are?” She leans toward me with a devilish glint in her eye. “You’re very, very bad.”
I smile, glancing down the front of my tented pants. “I might agree with you. Only a bad person gets turned on when they witness an attractive woman getting angry.”
“Take off your coat.” Heather’s voice sounds firm, the same tone she used with me in her apartment. I comply, tossing my coat on a nearby chair. “Shirt, next. Even the undershirt.” A devilish smirk curves her lips. “Oh, but leave on your tie.”
I follow her instructions, my breath rushing in and out fast. My knotted tie dangles down my chest, tickling my skin. I raise one eyebrow, waiting for her next order. What the hell is she going to do? Do I care?