The Elliotts: Mixing Business with Pleasure: Billionaire's Proposition / Taking Care of Business / Cause for Scandal

“Two minutes are up,” Gannon said, opening the door and catching her midstretch. He carried two large boxes and a small box. His dark hair was slightly mussed, his tie discarded and the top of his shirt unbuttoned, giving her a glimpse of his muscular chest. His shirtsleeves were unfastened and pushed up his forearms. She didn’t know which was more tempting, the man or the food. “Looks like you and I are the only ones left in the office.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised. “What do you have and how did you get it?”

“The food editor received these this afternoon. She told me she’s on Atkins and asked me to give them to someone else. It’s packed in dry ice and perishable, so we either eat it or toss it.”

“I hope it’s already cooked,” she said.

“I think it’s a lot of fresh fruit,” he said, opening one of the large cartons. “Help yourself.”

“Nice of you to share. I didn’t get to eat.” She pulled out several containers. “Raw oysters, avocados, chocolate-covered bananas,” she said, reading the labels. “What is this?” she asked, pulling out a split of champagne and two glasses.

“Aphrodisiac foods.”

Erika pulled her hand away from the box as if it had burned her. She looked at Gannon suspiciously. “Why did the food editor give this to you?” And why was he sharing it with her?

“The food editor is Geraldine Kanode. She’s sixty-three and was embarrassed as hell but didn’t want to throw it away.” His lips twitched. “She also said she didn’t want to take this stuff home and give her husband any ideas. I can toss it …” He waved the container of chocolate-covered bananas.

Erika’s stomach growled again. Hunger won over suspicion. “No, no, no. Wouldn’t want it to go to waste.” She motioned him over to her desk. “What are you still doing here?”

“An editor’s work is never done,” he said. “You know that.”

She nodded and smiled, happy to put the desk between her and Gannon. “Can’t disagree. I’m not big on raw oysters. They’re all yours.”

“Working on my sperm count?” He shot her a half grin that made her heart clench.

“That wasn’t my first thought, but it’s not a bad idea, is it?” She pulled out two plastic spoons and some napkins.

Gannon pulled a leather chair closer to her desk and sat down. “Avocado with basil vinaigrette?” he said, offering the small tub to her.

“Sounds good,” she said and took a bite of one of the halves. “Delicious. I wonder what this has to do with aphro—”

“Symbolizes the male testicles,” he said and ate an oyster.

Erika swallowed a second bite along with a wave of self-consciousness. “Never thought of that,” she said and looked at the avocado. She finished her half and shrugged. “Who would have known?”

“Champagne?” he asked, opening the split of bubbly. At her nod he poured the liquid into each glass and read the attached note. “Says we’re supposed to drop a vanilla bean in here.”

“Why?”

“Something about a Mexican fertility goddess,” he said and took a swallow. “Not bad, but it can’t compete with Irish whiskey.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” She inhaled the aroma of the vanilla and took a sip of the champagne. “Delicious. What’s in the little box marked perishable?”

Gannon opened it and looked inside. “Fresh fig.”

“Fresh?” Fresh figs were rare.

“Yep, and it’s mine,” he said, picking up the fruit and gently prying it open. “You know how a fig relates to the theme, don’t you?” he asked, nibbling at the pink inner flesh of the fruit.

Feeling a rush of heat, she cleared her throat. Watching him savor the swollen, ripe layers, she couldn’t help but visualize … “I can imagine.”

“A fig resembles the female—”

“I see,” she interrupted before he could finish.

“Genitals,” he said and licked his lips.

The expression in his eyes was frankly sexual, making her burn from the inside out. She felt her blood rush to tender places and pool. Her nipples felt achy against her bra. She fought the urge to wiggle in her chair. Why was he taunting her? What was he trying to prove?

She should stop this right now and tell him to take his sex food away. The lure of one food was too great. The fruit of revenge. “I’ll take a chocolate-covered banana.”

“Phallic symbol,” he said, and she felt his gaze linger on her as she took a large, indelicate bite.

“Very good chocolate and the banana is just right. Not too mushy,” she said and took another bite. Encouraged by the expression of fascination in his green gaze, she drew her tongue along the length of the chocolate-covered banana.

Gannon’s swift intake of breath was music to her ears. Closing her eyes, she took the banana in her mouth. “Mmm. This chocolate is delicious.” She opened her eyes. “Wanna bite?”

He audibly swallowed and looked into the box. “I think I’ll take the berries,” he said. “Strawberry and raspberry.” He met her gaze. “Nipple fruit.” He lifted a raspberry to his lips and sucked it into his mouth.

A searing memory of his mouth tugging at her nipples while he pumped inside her burned through her mind, stealing her breath. She felt the restlessness between her legs grow. She bit her lip, thinking she was out of her league with Gannon. She always had been.

She needed to back down from the game of sexual chicken. After one more bite, she thought and took the last bite of chocolate-covered banana. She licked her finger and caught him watching her again.

A tempting shot of triumph sizzled through her. At least he was as turned on as she was. He held up two sticks of licorice.

She blinked in surprise. “Licorice. I always thought of it as a kid food,” she said and took a bite.

“Chinese use the licorice root for medicine,” he said, glancing at the label. “It’s supposed to cause love and lust. Especially effective for women.”

The bite stuck in her throat. Gannon didn’t need all these foods. He was a powerful stimulant all by himself. She swallowed hard and smiled despite the arousal that raged through her like a hungry beast. “Well, I’ll have to see if it works.” She pointed at her watch. “I’m meeting a TDH for drinks in a half hour.”

He frowned. “TDH?”

“Oh, sorry,” she said, grabbing her coat and standing. She tossed the remains of their aphrodisiac feast into the box. “TDH is code for tall, dark and handsome.”

He stood, staring at her. “You’re meeting a man for drinks?”

She nodded. “I am.”

His frown deepened. “I thought you wanted me to—” he narrowed his eyes “—give you my sperm.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I have to stop looking for Mr. Right. Thanks again for the snack,” she said. “You’re a lifesaver.”

Six

Gannon looked over Erika’s employment contract and glanced at his watch. After five. She would still be in her office. Deciding to deliver the agreement himself, he walked to her office and gave the door a quick rap before entering.

She glanced up from her desk, and he immediately felt a kick in his gut just from meeting her gaze. Closing the door behind him, he strolled toward her and gently tossed the contract onto her desk. “I told you we would have a quick turnaround on this.”

She picked up the agreement and scanned it, then met his gaze again. “That was fast.”

“We can discuss any questions you have about it over dinner,” he said.

Her gaze fell away. “Oh, I think I’ll look at it first and just ask my questions tomorrow. In the office.”

“Afraid to have dinner with me?” he asked. Something about her made him want to get under her skin, make her react to him.

She looked up at him again. “Not afraid. I just want to be careful.”

“If you’re concerned about gossip, we can—”

She lifted her hand. “We did a lot of hiding last time around.”

His chest squeezed at the sliver of hurt that came and went in her eyes. “Our feelings for each other were private. I was determined to keep it that way.” He remembered feeling protective almost to the point of selfishness about his time with Erika.

“That didn’t quite work out, though, did it,” she said more than asked with a wry smile.

“Neither of us was ready for a commitment,” he said.

“And that’s no different now.”

He couldn’t disagree. With the competition for the head of EPH at stake, Gannon would be more focused on work than ever. “But you can’t deny the chemistry between us.”

“Can’t deny it exists,” she said. “But I learned an important lesson last time. Just because a man’s hormones are involved doesn’t mean his heart is involved.”

“Ouch. You make me sound—” He paused. “Callous.”

“No. You’re just very practical. Even about your affairs.”

“Being practical and up front protects things in the end. If I hadn’t been honest with you from the beginning, you wouldn’t have wanted to speak to me, let alone come back to Pulse.”

“I’m not sure your theory is dead-on, particularly about women. But I adopted your practical approach about coming back to Pulse. I give you something you want in exchange for getting something I want.”

His sperm. Gannon was starting to feel like a prize bull. He knew this wasn’t the right time to start trying to persuade her that using his sperm for her baby was an insane idea. He’d given the idea repeated consideration, but he knew what he had to do—stall the sperm contract until Erika came to her senses.

None of this had comforted him last night after he’d done his best to arouse her only to hear she was meeting another man. “How was your TDH last night?”

She appeared to pull a deliberately neutral expression over her face. “He was nice. Very nice.”

“Did the aphrodisiacs work?”

“That’s not really any of your business,” she said.

“It can be. I don’t like lighting the fire of a woman to keep another man warm.”

She stared at him in silence, then laughed aloud. “That’s one of the most ridiculous things you’ve ever said.”

“How so?” he asked, not sure if he felt more irritated with himself or with her.

“I hate to feed your ego, but most of the women in this office fantasize about you. You’re too good-looking for the moral fortitude of pretty much the whole female race. Do you really think women don’t get worked up over you, then unleash their frustration and passion on some lucky, unsuspecting male?”

He looked at her in disbelief, words eluding him.

She folded her hands together. “So what I’m saying is if you dislike the idea that you’re heating a lot of pots when somebody else is getting the meal, you just need to get over it.”

He raked his hand through his hair. “No one has ever said anything like that to me.”

“It’s just the truth.”

“You can damn well be sure it hadn’t occurred to me.”

“Of course it hasn’t. You’re too busy being your handsome, sexy, workaholic self to notice.”

“I’m trying to tell if you’re complimenting or insulting me.”

“Both and neither. I’m just being practical, like you. Telling you the truth.”

Gannon looked into her eyes for a long moment. She’d grown stronger during their time apart. Smarter. More practical. He felt the burn of challenge chafe at him. It was the same feeling he’d given in to last year. Only it seemed even stronger now. Erika had always managed to turn his head and harden his groin as no other woman could. Her combination of mental toughness and hidden emotional softness drew him like a magnet.

Even though he knew getting involved with her could wreak havoc with his family’s reputation and hers, he had a tough time depriving himself of going after her. Nothing and no one but his career grabbed his attention as she did. He’d broken the rules with her before and damn if he didn’t want to again.

Gannon reined in the impulse to seduce her past her practicality until she was moaning with him inside her. He summoned a businesslike tone and said, “Let me know if you have any questions. I’d like to get the contract signed tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll look it over tonight.”

“Good. And by the way, my father wants four representatives from Pulse at a cocktail party hosted by the United Nations ambassador from India. It’s tomorrow night. You want in or not?”

He saw immediately that she did. In her eyes he saw a dozen lights signifying a dozen feature ideas.

“Yes,” she said. “May I bring a guest?”

Gannon paused, feeling a quick, unwelcome spike of an unpleasant emotion he preferred not to examine. “Sure. As long as they can pass a security search. Give the name to my assistant.”

The following morning New York City was hit by a nor’easter that brought a foot of snow. EPH allowed employees to leave early as reports of electrical outages and traffic accidents increased throughout the day.

Erika took advantage of the quiet and finished some work on HomeStyle, then turned her hand to editing one of the three articles for Pulse that had greeted her that morning on her desk.

An e-mail from Gannon’s assistant informed her that the cocktail party was cancelled due to the weather, which was probably just as well since she was on the fence about whether she wanted to see Gerald, the TDH podiatrist, again.

When she’d met him for drinks, she’d found him tall, dark and handsome, funny and intelligent, but it seemed that every hour since she’d met him, for some reason unknown to her, her interest had waned.

Making a face, she turned her attention back to the article she was editing. At five o’clock she glanced out the window at the mess of weather and traffic and decided to fix herself a mug of hot chocolate instead of going home yet. She walked through the nearly deserted office to get some water for her coffeemaker, which she didn’t use for coffee. On her way back she noticed the door to Gannon’s office was ajar and the light was on.

Tempted for a second to say hi, she thought better of it and continued toward her office.

“You’re not going to share?”

Gannon’s deep voice traveled down the hall to tickle her ears just as she started to turn a corner. She stopped midstride and considered continuing on as if she hadn’t heard. Her hesitation decided for her.

Gannon appeared just behind her and the sight of him made her stomach do a little dip. “I know that pot of water isn’t for coffee. It’s for hot chocolate. You steal the community coffee at work on the rare times when you want it.”

“If it’s community, I’m not stealing it. And I don’t advertise my hot chocolate with marshmallows. I generally confine it to my office.”

“You don’t have to. We can smell it. There’s a blizzard outside. We’re the only two people left on the floor and you’re not going to share your hot chocolate with me?”

Even though he was joking, she couldn’t help feeling like a selfish little beast. “Okay, come on. I have a couple extra packets. What I don’t understand is why you want my instant hot chocolate when you could get the real thing in the executive dining room.”

“Proximity,” he said, joining her as she walked toward her office. “Besides, the executive dining room is closed.”

“You could tell your assistant to get it for you.”

“Except she’s not here. And although she would do what I asked, she’d think I’m a chauvinistic ass if I told her to get hot chocolate for me.”

She couldn’t help smiling. She poured the water into the coffeemaker and turned it on. “And you’re not?”

He tossed her a dark look. “You’ve met my sister and my aunt Finola. Those two file their teeth on the bones of men who displease them.”

Erika laughed. “Looks like you’ve successfully escaped their fury.”

“It can be a tricky challenge. Which mug are you going to give me? The one with the New York skyscraper scene?”

His ability to remember many of the little things he’d learned about her during their affair continued to surprise her. After he’d dumped her so easily, she’d decided she must not have been important to him at all. “Sorry. I think a cleaning person broke the skyscraper mug.”

A look of trepidation crossed his face. “You’re not giving me the PMS mug, are you?”

She laughed again. “No. I have a new one perfect for you to use.” She pulled a mug from a box she hadn’t unpacked yet. “I received this during a Chinese gift exchange at the HomeStyle Christmas party. I realize it’s missing a zero, but I think it will do.”

He glanced at the mug and gave a cryptic smile. It had a computer-altered image of a million-dollar bill wrapped around it. “I’ll take it.”

She dumped an envelope of hot chocolate mix into the mug and poured hot water, then stirred with one of the plastic straws she’d taken from the community coffee area. “You may borrow the mug,” she said. “I’m not giving it to you.”

“Thanks. You’re growing more territorial in your advanced years,” he said, taking the mug.

“Just embracing the boundaries that protect me,” she said and fixed her own mug of hot chocolate.

“That sounds like a line from either a shrink or a self-improvement book.”

“Paula’s psychologist. It clicked for me.”

“How about the TDH? Did he click with you?”

“So far,” she said, surprised he’d asked and not wanting to discuss it further. She buried her face into her mug and took a sip of hot chocolate.

Silence followed.

“That’s all? So far?” he prodded.

She nodded. “Uh-huh. What about you? How’s your love life?”

He blinked at her question and looked away. “It’s not a priority. I’ve got my hands full with this competition for the position of CEO of EPH.”

“Is that your standard answer?” she couldn’t resist asking.

He met her gaze and shook his head, then took a quick drink from his mug. “There was a time when you were intimidated by my position and name.”

That was before you ripped out my heart and stomped it under the heel of your Italian loafer. “That was before you tried to guilt me into giving you hot chocolate from my private stash.”

“I didn’t just try,” he said and took another sip from the mug. “I succeeded.”

“So you did. Please excuse me while I finish editing this article.”

He glanced at her desk. “Which one is it?”

“The one on the growing influence of women in sports,” she said.

“I thought that might appeal to your feminist side.”

“I suppose,” she said. “We’ve still got a long way to go to catch up with the kinds of salaries men in sports make. But that’s a matter of finding a commercial angle and creating a rabid fan base. There are plenty of barriers left to be broken.” She paused. “I’d like to see some insets on some of the current barrier-breaking women and include a little personal information with each one.”

He grinned and lifted his mug in salute. “It was a good article, but I knew you’d find a way to make it better.”

“Thanks.” His praise warmed her almost as much as the hot chocolate. Sinking into his green gaze, she caught herself. She might need more than a distance rule with Gannon. A time limit, too. “If you’ll excuse me so I can get back to it …. ”

“You’re hinting for me to go.”

“Smart man,” she said and moved to sit behind her desk.

“Thanks for the hot chocolate, Erika.”

“You’re welcome.” She forced herself to look at her computer screen as he left the room. “I’ll get the mug from you another time.”

She focused her attention on the article for thirty minutes and then stretched as she glanced at her frog clock. She looked out the window, down to the street below. The traffic appeared lighter. She should be able to catch a train home without fighting the extra riders who usually took a bus or car. Wrapping her scarf around her neck, she pulled on her coat and hat. She grabbed her purse and cut off her lamp and light, then left her office.

She couldn’t avoid passing Gannon’s office on the way to the elevator. “Night,” she called without stopping.

“If you’ll wait a minute, I’ll give you a ride home.”

The offer stopped her in her tracks. Normally she would choose to avoid riding in a vehicle with Gannon because of her two-foot rule. But declining a chauffeur-driven ride home in a toasty-warm vehicle that would deposit her at her front door as opposed to walking two blocks in sleet from the train station would be insane.

“Thank you. I’ll wait,” she said.

Gannon appeared from his office in a long black wool coat with a cashmere scarf bearing his initials. “Just talked to my driver. He said there are outages all over the place. I’m glad my building has its own emergency generator.”

“I don’t usually have a problem with losing power. When I do, it only lasts a couple of hours. I can live with that, although I was looking forward to using my electric blanket tonight.”

“TDH can’t take care of that?” he asked, punching the elevator button.

“I’m sure he could if I invited him,” she said, feeling prickly at his repeated references to Ger, even though Gannon didn’t know who Ger was. “But the cocktail party was canceled, so he accepted a rain check. Why are you so interested?”

The elevator doors whooshed open and they stepped inside. “Just making conversation. Are you sensitive about discussing your TDH?”

“No,” she said but felt as if she wasn’t telling the truth. She pushed back. “How’s Lydia?”

He did a double take. “Lydia?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I think you dated her after you dumped me.”

“I didn’t dump you,” he said.

“Yes, you did,” she said. “I can repeat the dump conversation word for word for you if you like. ‘Rumors about my involvement with you are getting back to me. I think we need to cool things down. This wouldn’t be good for my reputation or yours.’”

They arrived on the ground level and the doors opened. “The car’s here. We can finish this discussion later,” he said and led the way.

Wind and sleet slapped Erika’s face as she saw the driver appear to open the car door. “Good evening, Mr. Elliott. Ma’am.”

“Sorry to drag you out in this mess,” Gannon said as he waited for Erika to slide into the backseat.

She nearly moaned at the toasty temperature inside. A jazz CD played. Erika wouldn’t mind spending the night in such comforting surroundings. Getting a cab would have been nearly impossible, and walking those blocks to her brownstone would have been a freezing pain in the booty.

He turned to Erika. “Did you ever think I ended our relationship more for you than for me?” he asked in a low voice.

She looked at him in surprise. “No,” she said in a quiet but blunt voice. “You told me from the beginning that we had to be discreet because your grandfather frowned heavily on Elliotts getting romantically involved with coworkers.”

“Right,” Gannon said. “Ever thought whose reputation would suffer most if our relationship had become public?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. “No,” she admitted.

“Who do you think would suffer more? Me? An Elliott? Or you?”

“A non-Elliott,” she said. A non-Elliott without a tenth of Gannon’s power, let alone his family’s power.

“I don’t want the press involved in my sex life.”

“But what about Lydia?” she asked. “Her name and your name were all over the place after you dumped me.”

“It’s none of your business, but I was never intimately involved with Lydia. She didn’t work for EPH and she loves making the society pages.”

“She’s quite beautiful. The two of you made a lovely couple,” she said in a voice that couldn’t hide her resentment.

“You still don’t get it, do you?” he asked, shaking his head. “I went out with Lydia after you and I broke up to throw the attention away from you. I learned a long time ago that I didn’t want the press commenting on my intimate relationships. On people I care about. So I keep the people I care about out of the limelight. I keep it private.”

She looked at him for a long moment while his explanation sank in. Was he saying that he had cared about her? That their relationship had meant something to him?