Page 17 of Hard Deal
“Will do. Remember you’ve got a meeting with our advertising consultant at ten.” She gave him a pointed look.
Shit. He’d been putting this meeting off for weeks, because the guy had been trying to poach him. Apparently, Caleb had “an eye” for design, which was odd considering he’d only landed this marketing role as a consolation prize from Dear Old Dad. But the ad agency probably thought his business contacts would be worth something. Right now, though, he didn’t need that kind of temptation. Because as much as relations were strained with his father, this was still the family company.
“I need to move it.”
“Again?” She sighed. “He’ll think you want to drop the agency.”
“I don’t. Tell him something came up and I’ll shout him a drink on Friday.” He gave her a lopsided grin and she laughed, shaking her head. “Thank you.”
Mina disappeared and a second later Imogen walked through. “Door open or closed?” she asked.
Her movements appeared stiff—though it was possible that her overly starched white shirt was inhibiting joint mobility. Or maybe it was because her hair was so tightly scraped back that her brain was under a lot of pressure. That was Imogen’s go-to look.
But not this past weekend.
“Closed,” he said. “Thanks for coming to see me.”
“What do you want?” Usually when she asked him that her tone was sharp enough to slice bone. Today, however, her voice was uncertain. Had she been thinking about that kiss all weekend as he had? Was she distracted in her meeting earlier because she couldn’t forget how his hands felt on her body?
“I want to talk.” He leaned back in his chair and interlocked his fingers behind his head. “How was your weekend?”
She swallowed, the delicate muscles working in her neck as she stood statue-still by his door. “It was good.”
Yeah, she was definitely rattled. No way in hell would she have normally given him the time for idle chatter. The last time he’d tried to make small talk she’d walked away midsentence.
He raised an eyebrow. “Get up to anything interesting?”
Her face was a kaleidoscope of wariness and confusion as her fingertips danced along the edge of her necklace. “Just the usual.”
“No hot date?”
“No.”
“You didn’t, say...kiss anyone?” Ideally, he would have kept a straight face, but he was enjoying himself far too much. “Say, perhaps...me?”
Her jaw tightened. “How did you know it was me?”
“No denial, then? Hmm, interesting.” He pushed up from his chair and came around to the front of his desk. She was skittish as a rabbit caught in the stare of a fox. “I saw your tattoo.”
“Wait, how...?” She shook her head. “My dress covered it.”
“When you fell. Apparently, that sticky tape stuff doesn’t withstand everything. Also, you called me a ‘smurfing smurf-face,’ so that was kind of a dead giveaway.”
She’d looked pale before, but now the colour rose through her, a flush impressing itself on her skin. Behind the stiff white collar of her shirt, her neck was rosy pink. “Wait, you knew it was me from the second you picked up my phone?”
“Blondie, I’d recognise you anywhere.”
“Then you tricked me into kissing you,” she spluttered. “I have no idea why I’m surprised. That seems like exactly something you would do.”
“Let’s get one thing straight. You rushed me, you pushed me to the ground and you kissed me. I simply lay back and enjoyed.” He grinned. “Who knew you were hiding a siren under all those pearls.”
“You were stringing me along and holding my phone hostage.” She sucked in a breath. “I did what I had to do.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true.” She sounded far from confident.
“Then tell me you didn’t enjoy it.” He sauntered closer and she backed up, lining her back against the office door. Silence. “All you have to do is say, ‘Caleb, it was all an act. I didn’t enjoy kissing that disgusting mouth of yours one little bit.’”