Hot Boss, Boardroom Mistress

He refused to relinquish that control.

Yet almost helplessly he watched her, able to see so much more of her today than he could last night. And she was incredible. Her hair was still tied up but looked as gold as it had been all those years ago. Her girlish curves had softened into the fuller shape of a woman. Still trim but with full breasts and a slim waist that was accentuated by the neatly tucked-in blouse and skirt. He wasn’t listening again—hearing only the racing of the blood in his veins. Heading south.

He looked down at the table forcing himself to concentrate on the words, not on the image of her.

Amanda was winding down her spiel, talking up the bit about the benefits of going with their agency and not one of the others she knew he was seeing later in the day. She was tired. Had been talking non-stop for nearly twenty minutes and she had no idea—none—about how it was going down. There’d been no questions, nothing. Barry had added a couple of smiles and nods while Jared had been the bronze statue across the way. The sense of hopelessness was returning—especially as she saw she’d lost his attention and he had a huge frown on.

‘Synergy is a New Zealand-owned company—’

‘Why is that a positive?’ Jared finally interrupted in a rough tone. ‘Wouldn’t we be better off with an overseas conglomerate that has a vast pool of talent and resources from around the globe?’

‘We can offer a unique viewpoint into your local market.’

‘How up to the minute are you?’ He fired the question.

‘As up to the minute as you can get.’ She fired right back.

‘So you’d say you’re “in touch” with the trends, then, are you?’

‘Oh, believe me, Mr James,’ she descended into sarcastic sultriness, ‘we’re in touch.’

There was a silence as Jared met her gaze coolly, triumph suddenly kindling in the dark depths of his eyes. Her heart pounded and her spine prickled as she recognised danger. She broke away, looking down to her notes.

Bronwyn and Barry were both quiet, Amanda snatched a quick glance at both. There was a question in Bronwyn’s eyes and a hint of panic—contrasting sharply with the amusement written all over Barry’s face. Amanda realised that the line between professional and personal had been crossed—she’d crossed it. The challenge in the air had been thrown up by her.

Jared suddenly smiled as he reached out and needlessly moved a piece of paper on the table. It was the merest flash of teeth, revealing his moment of satisfaction further. He’d needled her deliberately. And she’d risen to the bait all too easily. Again.

Rats.

She flashed a quick, vitriolic look at him. He must have sensed her attention because his eyelids lifted and his eyes met hers—veiled with apparent blandness, almost boredom.

Jerk.

But those hideous years at Eastern Bay School for Girls saw her regain her precarious control. She spoke quickly, clearly. ‘By choosing a New Zealand partner you’re helping strengthen your home economy. You’re helping to keep good talent onshore, and good businesses working, which is precisely what you like to do, isn’t it, Mr James? Isn’t that one of the fundamentals of your own company policy? To generate jobs locally?’

She’d done her homework—spent a good twenty minutes talking to one of the delivery drivers who supplied cartons of the juice to the café nearest to her work. He’d been delighted to talk about the company he worked with. In the last couple of years, he’d said, Fresh had expanded its production significantly. And it ran an in-house mentoring scheme and had a high number of employees who’d come from troubled youth intervention programmes—getting kids off the street and into a job. She’d been surprised—not aware that Barry had such a do-good streak.

But now she knew it was Jared at the helm it made more sense—given his own background. Yet the mentoring wasn’t something they used in publicity—once the driver had let it slip, he’d then done so much making light of it she knew it was important. So why didn’t Jared want it advertised?

She met his hard gaze and refused to look away.

‘Why do you want to go away from personality-based advertising?’ Bronwyn piped up, clearly aware of the edge between Amanda and Jared.

‘He’s sick of seeing my face everywhere.’ Barry grinned.

‘So why not rebrand it with your own name and face?’ Bronwyn asked.

Amanda said nothing, just watched Jared’s expression close down.

‘You could call it JJ’s Juice?’ Bronwyn laughed.

Barry laughed too.

Jared didn’t.

It wasn’t long before silence reigned. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Bron blushing—realising she’d made a gaffe. The only one not wincing was Barry.

‘You’re not necessarily going to head the company long-term,’ Amanda said quietly. She didn’t know where she got the prescience from but she knew she was right. ‘And you don’t want it limited or dominated by one personality.’

He met her gaze for a moment longer and then looked away.

‘You know him.’ Bronwyn stated the obvious the minute the taxi doors were closed.

‘Yes.’ Amanda sighed, not wanting to meet her boss’s eyes, but honesty compelled her to.

‘In a way that means we’ll get the contract or we won’t?’

Amanda paused and then shook her head sadly. ‘I don’t know.’ She pulled the tie from her hair and loosened the plait, its tight do hurting her head. ‘Probably the latter. I’m really sorry. I had no idea he was going to be there.’

‘Nor did I. Keeps his cards close, doesn’t he? Doesn’t want to be in the public eye at all. I wonder why?’

Amanda could hazard a guess. Privacy was important to Jared. He’d hated the whole town knowing his business—all the girls feeling as sorry for him as much as they wanted him. He wouldn’t want to be showcased as the underprivileged-kid-done-good. He had too much pride for that.

Bronwyn opened her mouth but closed it again. Next time she opened it she got the question out. ‘How well do you know him?’

It was the inevitable question and Amanda knew exactly what it was she was asking. ‘Not that well.’

‘OK.’ Bronwyn smiled. ‘So how do you know him?’

‘We grew up in the same town. But I haven’t seen him for years.’

‘There’s something, though, isn’t there, between you?’

You’d have had to be made of stone not to have picked up on the tension between them. Bronwyn wasn’t an idiot. And Amanda knew she wasn’t going to let her get off this track without offering up some of the detail.

‘A kiss.’

‘Only one?’

‘He stopped it going further.’

One frightening, exhilarating, life-changing kiss. So often she wished it had never happened. Yet other times, usually when she was kissing someone else, she was glad it had. Because it had been the one kiss that had given her a glimpse of what it could really be like. Amanda had gone in for a lot of kissing in her quest to find a man who could better it. She’d yet to succeed.

She’d romanticised it of course. That was the problem. With the passage of time that hazy memory had become something more than it had really been.

Amanda glanced across to see Bronwyn’s glance resting on her—amusement mixed with chagrin swirling in her expression. ‘Well, it’ll be interesting anyway.’

‘I’m really sorry, Bronwyn. I’d never have come along today had I known.’

Bronwyn shrugged. ‘If your past is going to make as much difference as all that, then maybe we don’t want his business. If he’s unprofessional enough to allow personal issues into his decision-making processes, then we’re better off without him, right?’

‘Right.’ Amanda wanted to smile but couldn’t. No way were they better off without his business. They needed his business no matter what.

‘But for what it’s worth, I think your presentation was stellar. Whatever history you two do or don’t have, it certainly put fuel in your fire. You could have sold me a three-week-old wet newspaper.’

Amanda flushed once more—this time from pleasure rather than mortification. And then the warm feeling subsided. No matter how good she’d been she was sure Jared wouldn’t give them the job.

At that moment Jared was staring at the painting hanging in the far corner of his office, for once not getting any sense of calm from the vast landscape it depicted. He tugged off the tie and undid the top button of his shirt.

This was business. He had to make this decision based on what was best for the company. Which was the pitch more likely to work and which was in tune with his vision? And who could he work with closely to get what he wanted?

What he wanted or who he wanted?

He frowned and turned away, looking out of the window and down the road where a few minutes ago a taxi had driven off, taking the infuriating Amanda away.

Damn.

Because he’d liked her pitch. He’d liked the idea. And there was a part of him that wanted to give the job to that company because he wanted to see it succeed—not go under, swallowed up by the global advertising giants. He’d stepped in and stopped this juice company from being taken over by a large offshore firm; it was part of what had driven him to work the hours he had and take the risks he had. They’d paid off too, those risks. Now he was contemplating another.

Could he really work with her?

He frowned. Ridiculous. Of course he could. A little lust attack could easily be stamped out. Because no way could he follow through on the idea of a one-night fling with her if they were to be working together. That would be messy and Jared loathed messy. He worked most of the time, he played outdoors some of the time and he scored even less of the time. The three were kept very separate. So what if he wanted her? He’d wanted her before and said no; he could do that again no sweat. Definitely.

The question was, could she work with him? Could she keep her professionalism up?

And that, he realised, was what he wanted to know. Could the spoilt princess cope with him giving the orders? His mouth stretched into a smile, slow and wide. How funny for the boot to be on the other foot. Amanda Winchester answering to his call for once.

It shouldn’t matter. Jared was not the kind who liked to abuse his power—but in this case, in this unique case, the temptation was irresistible.

Chapter Four

AMANDA stared, too scared to believe as she, Sean and Danielle listened in on Bronwyn’s conversation.

‘Yes…yes…certainly…of course.’ Bronwyn glanced up and winked, then spun her chair away to look out of the window and control the big grin stretching wide across her face. ‘That won’t be a problem. Wonderful, Jared.’

Amanda watched as Bronwyn looked at the receiver and then carefully put it down.

‘Well?’ screeched Sean.

‘People—’ Bronwyn looked about to burst ‘—we have ourselves a client.’

‘All right!’ Sean did a jig. ‘Where do I buy? What do I buy? Radio, TV…Are we doing the web too?’

Bronwyn held up her hand and Sean, well trained, fell silent. ‘We’ll get to that in due course. Our Mr Jared James is one demanding customer and very particular about what he wants. He had a number of requests relating to the pitch, all of which I’ve agreed to. The first stipulation is that Amanda manages the account—she’s responsible for creative content and for liaising with the client. Obviously we’re here to help you, Amanda. You’re not totally alone in this.’ Bright-eyed Bronwyn was watching her too closely.

Amanda felt the blood rushing through her body—but none of it was getting to her brain.

‘Manage the account?’ Deal with Jared? Be responsible for it all? But she’d only been in this job a few months—only moved to Auckland when it became clear she needed to earn serious dollars.

‘I need you to do this, Amanda. Are you going to be able to?’ Bronwyn came round from behind her desk.

‘Sure,’ Amanda blurted. ‘Of course.’ She whirled away and went to her own workstation.

Oh, no. Shock and a sudden desperate need for something sweet—an edible distraction—filled her.

They’d got the contract but she was going to have to work with Jared—spend time with Jared. Food—quick!

Because of course this would all be fine if her body didn’t go on heat at just the mention of his name. She was melting inside…

Oh, no. She picked up the box of gourmet chocolates and stuffed the first one she grabbed in.

‘Hey, Amanda! Hey, stop!’ Sean screeched again. ‘They’re samples for us to build an ad campaign for.’

Amanda, still chewing the first, added a second to the mix. ‘Do I look like I care?’ She swallowed and immediately stuffed another in. ‘I need them now.’

‘But, Amanda, they cost a fortune and—’

‘I can buy more,’ she snapped as she devoured yet another.

‘Well, you could always get your grandfather to buy the company.’

‘Jared?’ She spun so fast that three of the chocolates flew from the box like renegade bullets.

‘I was talking to Bronwyn on my mobile.’ Jared casually picked up a chocolate that had landed on Danielle’s desk beside him. ‘Guess she hadn’t had the time to tell you I was here yet.’

‘I…’ Amanda glanced over his shoulder and saw Bronwyn’s face—the anxiety as she mouthed ‘sorry’.

‘Let’s just make it a quick meeting now, shall we? I don’t want to take up too much of your valuable time.’ He looked at the chocolate in his hand and then sent the box of chocolates an equally ironic glance.

‘Um. OK.’ Amanda shoved the box behind her and swallowed, certain she was all chocolate teeth.

He stepped closer, still holding the stray truffle. ‘Is there somewhere we could go? A meeting room perhaps?’

‘Um—’ But as she went to answer he put the chocolate in her mouth. Startled, she gaped, chocolate and all.

Laughing, he licked the small bit of melted chocolate from his finger and then shut her mouth with a nudge under her chin. ‘I was always good at the clown game at the fair.’

Unable to do anything else in front of their current audience, Amanda chewed—viciously.

‘Now I know how to get you to be a little sweeter to me.’ The devil glinted in his eyes. ‘Lead on, Amanda.’

Ignoring the gaping stares of Danielle and Sean and the sky-high brows of Bronwyn, Amanda stalked round the corner to the small meeting room. She paused outside the door.

His smile was about as trustworthy as a crocodile’s. ‘After you.’

She walked in, conscious of him shutting the door behind him. Far too conscious of how small the room was, how tall he was, how she still wasn’t used to seeing him in a suit—certainly not one as devastating as this. Even more magnificent than the one he had on at the pitch yesterday, this one was black with the thinnest of pinstripes and set off by a deep red tie. She stared at him. Lost, for a long moment, in the sheer infuriating attraction of him.

Then came the pep talk. Be professional. Ignore the chocolate moment and the way he’s looking at you. Just do the job and do it well.

She took in a deep breath. ‘Thank you very much for putting your faith in Synergy. We’re looking forward to working on your campaign and making it a successful one.’

‘Of course.’

His bored-sounding air unnerved her.

‘Are you sure you don’t want Bronwyn to join us?’ She glanced to the door. ‘Not even to take notes?’

‘No.’ Lazily he walked towards her.

She stepped back.

‘Are you afraid of being alone with me?’ He kept walking towards her.

In this small meeting room there wasn’t anywhere to go. Three more steps in reverse and the backs of her legs were up against something. ‘Of course not. I’m not afraid of you.’

He put his hands on her shoulders and pressed down on them. She sat. It was one of the chairs in the row against the wall.

‘But I thought I was the big bad wolf.’ He sat on the chair next to hers and smiled that smile again.

Crocodile? Snake? Wolf? Whichever, it didn’t inspire faith, courage or hope. It inspired…other things.

‘That was just a joke.’ Her voice wavered.

‘You know what they say—spark of truth in every one.’ He was deliberately baiting her, deliberately sitting too close.

‘I can’t work with you being like this.’ She jumped up.

‘Like what?’

‘You know what.’

He rose and prowled, positively prowled towards her. ‘Technically, you’ll be working for me.’

Oh, like that helped? She moved to the door but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

‘Come and sit down, Amanda, and stop acting like a spoilt child,’ he said softly. ‘You need to put aside your personal feelings and get on with the job.’

That got her. Her personal feelings? He was the one hand-feeding her chocolates in front of people and then sitting too close. ‘I have no personal feelings. Not for you.’

‘Is that right?’ His hand dropped and his face held no memory of a smile. ‘Prove it.’

‘Pardon?’

He stepped closer. ‘Prove there are no personal feelings.’

‘H-how—?’

‘Kiss me.’

‘What?’

‘You can show me there’s no desire.’

‘You arrogant—’

‘It’s that impossible, huh?’ His eyes glittered.

She met their intensity with a deep look of her own. The challenge was back and he’d brought it this time. And Amanda couldn’t walk away. This wasn’t about the contract any more, this was about closing the door on the past. That long-ago night hung between them. It was the first thing she thought of every time she saw him. It was the big old elephant in the room and it needed banishing.

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