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

His assistant waved her inside.

Gannon looked up from his desk, which was uncharacteristically covered with papers and photos.

“How did this happen?” she asked.

“Current events. Breaking stories. Fill-in reporter, new photographer.” He shook his head in disgust. “The good news is the photographer took lots of shots, so we should be able to find something.”

“Okay,” she said, moving to his desk. “Tell me where you want me to start.”

Eight

Erika and Gannon worked nonstop through lunch on the features, rewriting and editing. Erika made phone calls to obtain clarification. Gannon sent the photos they selected to their photo editor.

The time passed like lightning. If she thought about the way they worked together—as if she were one hand and he were the other—then it might have freaked her out. But they were too busy.

With her focus on the feature articles, she shouldn’t have noticed him too much, but she did. She inhaled his aftershave and wanted to drown in it. He raked his fingers through his hair and she wanted to touch his hair. Once, his hand grazed hers and she felt a thrill race through her. She met his gaze and what she saw there stopped her heart.

As if both of them knew they couldn’t let down their guard, they both looked away and forged on. By the end of the day, though, she couldn’t help staring at his mouth when he talked.

At six-thirty, when they finished what had initially looked like mission impossible, she felt giddy.

Gannon sank into his chair and pulled his tie off. He’d loosened it hours ago. He met her gaze and chuckled. “Cheers to us.”

She smiled in return. “Cheers to us. All we need is some champagne.”

He lifted his hand. “I have some,” he said and rose toward a minibar on the other side of his large office. Underneath the cherrywood bar he opened a small refrigerator and pulled out a chilled bottle of champagne. “Cristal.”

She gaped at the bottle, then at him. “That’s a little extravagant, isn’t it?”

“Are you saying we don’t deserve it?” he asked, unwrapping the foil. He grabbed a towel from beneath the counter and popped the cork.

“I guess it’s too late to debate now.” She stood. “Do you have glasses?”

He tilted his head behind him. “Lower left cabinet.”

Erika walked to the cabinet and pulled out two crystal flutes. “These are beautiful. They look like Water-ford.”

“My mother gave them to me. Hinting,” he said, moving toward her and pouring the sparkling wine into the glasses she held. “Have a seat,” he said, pointing to the chairs on the other side of his desk.

Erika sank into her chair while Gannon sat next to her. “To conquering the mission impossible,” she said, lifting her glass, enjoying his mussed look and the hint of a five-o’clock shadow on his jaw. She liked him when he looked a little rough around the edges. She also liked him when he was wearing a black suit. Then again, she really liked him with just a sheet or nothing at all.

He clicked his glass against hers. “To our friendship,” he said.

She took a sip of the wine and then another. “Very good, of course.”

“Very good.”

“So what was your mother hinting about?”

“Me settling down and getting married.”

“Ah. What did you tell her?”

“Same thing I always tell her. When the time and the woman are right.”

She took another sip to cover the odd mix of feelings inside her. “I get some of the same thing from my mother.”

“What do you tell her?”

“I change the subject and ask how her bridge game is,” she said, and thought about the baby contract that Gannon hadn’t produced. She told herself to be a little more patient.

“That’s pretty good. I’ll have to remember it for future reference.” He topped off her glass. “Drink up. We should finish this.”

“And end up with a champagne headache? I don’t know. But maybe it’s worth it if it’s Cristal,” she said, feeling a conspiratorial thrill as she let herself sink into his gaze. She took another few sips and felt a flush of heat. “Whew. With no lunch, this is going straight to my head.”

“I can take care of that,” he said in a voice that reminded her that he could take care of her in a lot of ways.

Feeling a twist of flat-out lust form in her belly, she closed her eyes and took another long sip. “Oh, what a day. A blur. Do you think your father will be happy with what we did?”

“Ecstatic,” Gannon corrected. “In his way.”

She smiled at his dry tone and opened her eyes. “He’s not the kind to jump up and down very often, is he?”

“No, but he always makes it clear if he’s pleased or not.”

“And he’s almost always pleased with you,” she ventured.

“There have been a few times that I set him off, but I’m the oldest.”

She understood because she was the oldest in her family. “The bar is higher.”

Gannon nodded and lifted his hand to her cheek. “What about you?”

She should move away, she told herself. She was breaking both the time and distance rules, but she liked the way that one finger of his felt on her skin. The slow movement was mesmerizing. “I’m the oldest, too, but I’m lucky. I don’t work for my mother or father. I live in a different state. At the same time, you can take the girl out of Indiana, but you can’t take Indiana out of the girl.”

He smiled. “Soft heart under the black suit, hot chocolate. Do you miss your parents?”

She nodded. “Sometimes, but I think a little distance can be a good thing.”

“Can’t disagree.”

“Yet you stay.”

He shrugged. “I never considered anything else. I never really wanted anything else.”

“Never? You never had a rebellious moment as a teenager or as a college kid?”

“Okay,” he relented. “So there was a week or two when I seriously considered becoming a fly fisherman’s guide in Montana.”

She laughed. “I’m trying to picture you in rubber waders instead of a Brooks Brothers suit.”

He moved his hand to her mouth and rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Are you mocking me again? There was also that summer in high school when I was determined to play in a garage band.”

Surprise raced through her. “Oh, I never knew. You never mentioned that before when we—” She broke off. “When we were involved. There’s still a lot I don’t know about you.”

“You don’t sound happy about that,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on her mouth.

She wasn’t, and the knowledge irritated her. “Not much I can do about it, is there?”

“You can do more than you think you can,” he said and leaned back to toss back the rest of his champagne.

What an obscure comment, she thought, watching the muscles of his throat as he swallowed. She remembered kissing him there on his throat and hearing him groan in pleasure. The sounds he’d made when they’d made love had made her crazy to please him.

He tilted the bottle of champagne and filled his glass and topped off hers again. “Almost done.” Meeting her gaze, he leaned closer. Then closer. So close her vision blurred.

“I’m going to kiss you.”

“I didn’t beg,” she said in the only protest she could muster. She hadn’t begged. Not aloud anyway.

“We’re not in my apartment,” he said and lowered his mouth to hers.

All the breath left her lungs. He moved his mouth over hers, caressing, exploring. His tongue slipped over her lips and she instinctively opened, letting him in.

He made a ghost of a groan that melted her thighs and turned her to liquid. He pulled back slightly. “Take a drink of champagne,” he told her. “I want to taste it on your mouth.”

Oooooh, wow. With a not-so-steady hand she lifted the flute and took a sip.

He slid his hand underneath her jaw and lowered his mouth again, slipping his tongue over her mouth and then over her tongue.

The kiss went on and on and she felt as if she’d been injected with a drug that made her move in slow motion. Nothing moved quickly except her heart. She felt the flute lifted from her hand.

The kiss turned deeper and Gannon pulled her from her chair onto his lap. A sliver of caution dented the thick aura of desire infusing her brain. “Is this a good idea?” she managed.

“We’re just kissing,” he said.

But her body wanted more, she thought. A lot more. He slid his hand around the nape of her neck and deepened the kiss, his tongue thrusting inside her mouth.

Almost of their own accord her hands went to his hair. His groan of pleasure rewarded her and she felt his hands on the sides of her breasts. Her nipples immediately peaked against her bra. One, two, three seconds passed and he touched her nipples.

The sensation sent a ricochet of tension down between her legs, where she felt wet and swollen.

“Do you want more?” he whispered.

The forbidden offer tantalized her unbearably. “How can I possibly think straight with the way you’re touching me?”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Both,” she muttered, biting her lip as he continued to rub his thumbs over her tender nipples.

“Tell me you want me to stop,” he said, stopping the sensual movement.

So she was going to have to be a big girl after all. Responsible. She didn’t want to think. She just wanted to feel him, every way, everywhere. She closed her eyes. “I can’t say that I want you to stop,” she admitted in a low voice.

He tugged her mouth back to his and took a long draw from her lips as if she were a drink he couldn’t get enough of. At what felt like the speed of light he unbuttoned her blouse and unfastened her bra. With restless fingers she unfastened his shirt and pushed it down his arms, but he wore a T-shirt underneath.

Frustration bubbled from her throat. “Not fair,” she said.

He quickly obliged her by removing his undershirt. She slid her fingers over his pecs and down his torso, thrilled by his quick intake of breath when her fingers dipped to his waistband.

He buried his face in her breasts, sliding one of her nipples into his mouth. The way he tugged on her nipple sent her temperature soaring and tightened the empty ache inside her. She shifted restlessly on his lap, sliding against his hard arousal.

He gave a groan that mixed frustration and pleasure. “You get me so—” He broke off and stood her between his legs, pulling down her stockings and the skirt she wore. She’d ditched her boots late afternoon in the middle of their intense work session.

His gaze dark with the same need she felt, he pulled a condom from his pocket, unfastened his belt and shoved down his slacks and briefs. Sinking down onto the chair, he pulled her onto his lap.

He kissed her while his fingers searched and found her sweet spot. “Wet and good,” he murmured in approval. His tongue stroked hers while his fingers caressed her intimately.

Erika got so hot she could barely breathe. Anticipation warred with anxiousness. “I want you inside me,” she whispered to him. Then more to herself, “This is insane,” she said, overwhelmed by the need to be with him, by the need to be as close to him as humanly possible.

Gannon lifted her hips over him and she slid down his shaft, taking him inside her. The way he filled her took her breath away.

He shuddered. “You have no idea how good …”

She lifted her hips and slid down him again, the friction stimulating all her most intimate nerve endings. “Oh, I think I have an idea.”

And the rhythm began. He thrust upward when she rippled down over him. He drew her breasts to his mouth, sucking her nipple while he thrust inside her. The dual sensations made her crazy.

He slid his hand between them and stroked her sweet spot, and Erika felt an explosion of pleasure kicking through her blood like a current coming in fits and starts. He continued to move and she felt herself clench in a mind-blowing climax.

She heard him mutter something that was either an oath or a prayer. Or both. And he rocked his hips upward, thrusting, his body arched in release.

Squeezing her bottom, he swore under his breath. “Oh damn, that was amazing.” He met her gaze with eyes dark with arousal and fulfillment. “You’re incredible. Just—”

A knock sounded at the door. Shock raced through her. Someone might as well have thrown a bucket of water on Erika. “Oh no—”

He covered her lips with one finger and shook his head. Another knock sounded.

“Mr. Elliott? Cleaning service is here to take care of your office.”

“Give me about fifteen minutes, thank you. I’m finishing a project.”

Recriminations immediately filled Erika’s head. What in the world was she doing? Had she learned nothing? She’d gotten involved with Gannon before and he’d hurt her so much she couldn’t feel anything at all for another man.

This was even worse. They’d never gone this far in the office.

Bitter regret filling her throat, she struggled to climb off his lap, stumbling as she tried to stand.

Gannon stood and steadied her. “You okay?”

She could feel him studying her face and she refused to meet his gaze. “I could probably be better. Getting dressed wouldn’t hurt.”

He moved to lock the door. “It’s okay. No one walked in on us.”

“But they could have,” she said, jerking on her clothes. “I’m in here bonking the boss and—”

“I’m not technically your boss,” Gannon said. “I made sure of that when you returned to Pulse.”

She sent him a withering glance. “That could have been anyone behind that door. And what if they hadn’t knocked?”

“Everyone knocks on my door before entering.”

“What about your father? What about one of your brothers or your sister? Or one of your thousands of cousins?” She tried to keep the hysteria from her voice.

He pulled up his pants and fastened them. She noticed it took him about one-tenth the time to pull himself together, while she was still dressing herself with hands that refused to steady themselves.

She struggled with the zipper on her boots and he brushed her hand away. “You need to calm down, Erika. Nothing happened. I would protect you. This thing between us …” he said and shrugged. “We just got carried away. We need to keep it private.”

“I’m not sure we should keep it at all,” she told him. “I already bought the T-shirt for this ride one time.”

“But you want my baby,” he said, meeting her gaze dead-on.

Her throat closed up and she looked away. “I want your genes. Otherwise you and I know it’s not the right time or I’m not the right woman.”

Silence followed, swelling between them, creating an unbearable tension inside Erika.

“Do we really know that?” he asked.

His question made her heart stop. It gave her a crazy kind of hope that she didn’t want to buy into for her sanity and emotional safety. “We know it’s not the right time. And if I were the right woman—the really right woman—then any time would be the right time.” She successfully pulled up the zipper on her other boot.

“Erika,” he said, putting his hand over hers.

She closed her eyes at the strong tug she felt, the wanting to be with him. “No, Gannon, for you this is just about the crazy chemistry between us and some amazing hot sex. And I’m hardwired differently.” She glanced at the clock. Seven-fifteen. Her head clearing, she felt a nudge from her brain. What—

Remembering her late date with Gerald, she swore and began to gather the rest of her belongings. “Oh, great. Just great.”

“What is it?”

“I have a dinner date in forty-five minutes.”

Gannon went completely silent.

“You’re not really going to meet him after we—”

She bit her lip and waved her hand. “I’ll handle it. I’ll take care of it. I’ll, uh—” She swallowed over the terrible distraught lump in her throat. “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

He reached for her and she stumbled backward. “No. Please don’t touch me right now. I need to leave.”

Nine

“Yes, Jessica, I had to cancel the dinner date with Gerald. I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t make it. Something happened at work at the last minute.” Something stupid happened at the last minute and she’d bashed herself the entire weekend for letting Gannon happen to her again. In his office.

Erika rolled her eyes at herself in disgust. The one good thing she could say about this Monday morning was that she hadn’t crossed paths with the human object of her insanity.

“But you’ll go out with him some other time, won’t you?” Jessica asked. “I had to work to get this guy to do a blind date, Erika. You need to take advantage of this opportunity. He’s a doctor.”

Erika couldn’t muster any enthusiasm about going out with Gerald and she feared that every time she looked at him, she’d be reminded of the reason she’d broken the date with him and subsequently reminded of what an idiot she’d been.

“I don’t know, Jessica. I’ve just made a big change at work and it’s going to be very demanding and—”

“Oh, Erika, don’t pull the work excuse. Gerald is already thinking you’re not interested. And really what’s not to like about him? He’s TDH with brains, a sense of humor—”

The light for her second line began to flash. “I know, Jessica, but—”

She heard a tap on her door, and her assistant poked her head inside. “Sorry to bother you, but a woman on the line said something about you being her niece’s mentor and she sounded upset.”

Erika felt her chest constrict with concern. “Jessica, I gotta go. I’ll call you back when I can.” She switched lines. “Erika Layven.”

“Miss Layven, Tia’s been hit by a truck,” a woman said in a broken voice. “She won’t be able to meet you.”

Erika’s heart stopped. “Omigod, what happened? Where are you?”

“It happened this morning on her way to school. I’m at the emergency room. I don’t know what’s going to happen. No one will tell me anything.”

“Tell me where you are and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Gannon learned Erika wasn’t in the office when he sent his assistant to deliver a feature article proposal to her. “How long will she be out?” he asked, wondering at the reason for her absence.

His assistant shrugged. “I’m not sure, but Rose said she thought she might not be back in until tomorrow.”

He nodded, feeling a prickle of concern. Erika rarely missed work for any reason. After a meeting with a monthly columnist, he gave in to his curiosity and dropped by Erika’s office.

“I’d like to get Erika’s input on a feature proposal. Do you know when she’ll be back in?” he asked Erika’s assistant.

Rose shook her head. “No. When she left for the E.R., she told me to hold her messages and she’d check in at the end of the day if she could.”

Alarm shot through him. “E.R.?”

“I’m a little sketchy on the relationships, but someone named Tia was apparently hit by a truck and was taken to a hospital.”

Gannon recalled that Tia was the young teen Erika had been mentoring. He shook his head. “Do you know her condition?”

Rose shook her head sadly. “No, but how can it be anything but bad?”

Gannon frowned. “Did she mention which hospital?”

“Yes, I have it here somewhere,” she said, rustling through some papers on her desk. “Here it is. St. Joseph’s.”

“Thanks,” he said and tucked the information in his mind.

He went back to his office and sat down in his chair, trying not to think of how frantic Erika must be. He could think of nothing else. Picking up his phone, he dialed her cell. No answer. His gut twisted. Not a good sign.

But not his problem, the pragmatic side of his brain reminded him. He clicked the mouse for his computer to check his schedule. He had a full plate of his own today.

Tia’s aunt Brenda couldn’t handle the sight of the blood from her niece’s injuries, so Erika sat with Tia until she was taken into surgery. She alternately paced the waiting room and gave a hug of reassurance to Tia’s aunt.

“I should have watched out for her better. I was in a hurry to get Jason to day care. I overslept, so we were all running late.”

Erika put her arm around the young woman’s shoulders. “You’ve got to stop blaming yourself. You couldn’t have stopped that truck driver. You heard the officer. The guy was drunk,” Erika said, still furious at the cause of the accident and shaken by Tia’s close call.

“I just hope they can fix her. She’s such a sweet girl. Smart. She deserves so much more.”

“You do more than you know.” Erika tried to reassure the woman at the same time she was worried.

“How is Tia?” a male voice asked from behind her.

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