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I had worked on the Blythe account a year and a half ago. "Yes, we were quite successful with their giving platform. Is something similar what you’d would like to move forward with?"
He leaned in to see what I was opening on my laptop. This was not the way we usually did things. There was usually more distance between me and a client. I liked to do things in a presentation style. It made it easier to keep some separation.
"I hope we won't have a difficult time working together, Miss Winslow."
"Of course not. I'm a professional, even if you did know who I was last night and said nothing, and even if I'm forced to take the job now, when I'm full up with clients, we're going to get along just fine."
His grin was slow and easy. "If I had told you who I was last night, would you have begged me to kiss you?"
I widened my eyes. "We're not talking about that. And I didn’t beg you. You kissed me."
"Okay, then I guess we're not going to talk about that sexy little keening whine you make in the back of your throat either. We won't talk about it at all."
I forced my shoulders back. "You're Drake Foster. I know the name even though I didn't know your face. Because believe me, if I had, I wouldn't have kissed you. But that's neither here nor there. If what I've read about you is true, you have a large philanthropic organization and plenty of daddy's money, but you keep a low profile. No magazine covers naming you the most eligible bachelor, but I'm sure you don't have to kiss random women."
His eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, but I saw it. Well, he wasn't happy. Tough. He'd known who I was last night and he'd let me make a fool of myself. And he'd let me kiss him, which was almost worse.
"Did I know who you were? Yes. But if you remember the events of last night, you bumped into me, used me as a shield, then begged me to help you. Have I got that right?"
Okay, so maybe the order of events was something like that, but he made it sound like I'd climbed all over him, which I hadn't exactly. "That's hardly fair. I was in dire straits."
"Doesn't change what happened. You asked me for help, and I told you that you probably wouldn't like it. Then I kissed you. Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't you kiss me back?"
Heat crept up my neck as I clenched my molars. "I did no such thing," I bit out. When in doubt, lie. Lie big. Lie badly if you have to, but never show fear.
You always show fear.
He leaned back on the couch, his arm thrown casually over the back, his pose reeking of insolence. "Fine, have it your way. But we will be working closely together for the next few weeks. Once you're on site, I'm sure this little tension you feel toward me will dissipate and…"
I lifted my brow. "Excuse me. On site?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Mr. Cable had mentioned that you'll be working on site for the duration. Your other clients won't be a problem. He assured me he's already assigned you to me alone. So you have nothing but time. We leave on Friday. Wheels up for Barcelona.”
Excuse me? There was no way I could move that quickly. Besides, I needed to be here for Willow. We were touring Balhurst this weekend. What the hell? I cocked my head and glowered at him. Was he just used to getting whatever he wanted? “Sorry to disappoint you. But I won't be going anywhere on Friday. As we don't start this project till Monday, I will leave on Sunday night and meet you in the office on Monday.”
A slow, smug grin spread over his lips. “It's better for us to leave on Friday. You'll get settled, and we’ll get to talk business. We'll have a plane waiting for you.”
I forced calm into my voice. “I will not be on it on Friday. If you would like the plane to pick me up on Sunday evening to make sure I get to you, or even better, Monday morning bright and early, I'm happy to meet you at the office. You cannot claim my weekends. Besides, I have plans. So like I said, I'll see you on Monday. I'm sure your people can leave notice of where I'm supposed to be with my people?”
He leaned forward then, planting his hands on his knees, his long body folding in. “One way or another, you'll be on that plane on Friday.”
7
Drake
As it turned out, Daphne Winslow had a bit of a spine on her. I hadn't expected that.
What did you expect?
I’d expected some pushback, but not full-on defiance.
I watched her climb in a black car on Thursday night instead of staying home and packing. She looked like she was headed out for a night on the town, and it set my blood simmering.
It also made me respect her because she wasn't laying down and taking it.
That's not what you need. In this instance, you need compliance.
It was certainly going to be a hell of a lot easier if she just complied. But since it looked like she wasn't feeling up to that, we were going to do things the hard way.
