Hypnotic Seduction (The Seduction Series) (25 page)

Callie sighed. “Just do me a favor and leave Bryce for me. He may not know I’m alive, but I couldn’t stand to see one of my friends dating him.”

Evidently, she must have heard about Hannah’s dirty dancing routine with Bryce.

Hannah shook her head. “You have nothing to worry about. I’m not interested.”

“That’s not what I heard. Wendy Carson said a postage stamp wouldn’t have fit between the two of you on the dance floor Friday night.”

“How the heck would she know? She wasn’t even....Oh,”—Hannah nodded—“Renee must’ve told her. Listen, Bryce was just helping me make Jordan jealous. There’s nothing going on between us. I swear.”

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.” Callie smiled. “I was afraid I might have to hate you.”

If anyone knew what it felt like to
be betrayed
, Hannah did. “I wouldn’t do something like that to you.”

“Thanks.” Callie reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Still, even though you’ve become one of my closest friends, I can understand why every female in this room is glaring at you.”

They were? Hannah turned around and discovered nearly all the women seated at Wendy Carson’s table looking at her and whispering behind their hands. Obviously, they resented a frump like her suddenly becoming a threat to them.

“Well, I don’t have time today to do any damage control.” She pushed back her chair and scooped up her tray. “I have to get back. Jordan has a conference call scheduled at one-thirty with the Health and Beauty division.”

She returned her tray and picked up the grilled chicken sandwich platter she’d ordered and already paid for, then headed toward the elevator.

“It would seem I misjudged you, Hannah.” Stanley Pulaski, the Human Resources director, stepped behind her as she pushed the up button. “Do you like working for JC?”

“Very much. Thank you.” She stepped into the crowded elevator behind Renee’s friend, Wendy, praying the pervert wouldn’t follow her.

No such luck. He squeezed in behind her and glanced pointedly at the plastic wrapped plate, then peered down the top of her dress. “I see you’re taking good care of him.” His leer implied she was doing it in more ways than just bringing Jordan lunch. “I owe you an apology. I’d like to take you to dinner sometime to make up for not giving you a fair shake.”

Right. Where had his apology been when her knees were still covered?

She treated him to the same head-to-toe scrutiny he’d given her the day she’d applied for a job. “I’m sorry, Mr. Pulaski.” Hannah glanced around the packed elevator and smiled sweetly. “You don’t seem to have the qualifications I’m presently looking for in a date. But I’ll remember your kind invitation in the event I ever lower my standards.”

The group of people behind them snickered, and his face turned as red as the slices of tomato on Jordan’s lunch plate. The doors slid open, and Hannah stepped aside for the personnel director to exit. “If I’m not mistaken, this is your floor.”

The reptile slithered off the elevator and tossed a venomous
I-don’t-get-mad-I-get-even
glare over his shoulder.

After the doors shut, Wendy shivered next to Hannah. “FYI, if you like your job, that’s one man you don’t want to piss off.”

“Thanks for the advice. Fortunately, I work for someone who doesn’t need Mr. Pulaski to approve his choice of assistant.” Hannah smiled and stepped off the elevator on the top floor where a security guard was scribbling his signature on the security log sheet posted inside the tiny glass cabinet outside the executive suite.

When he turned toward her and she saw it was Chuck Howell, her stomach plummeted. The man had asked her out three times and had become more persistent and unpleasant each time. “Hi, there.” She waved. “Doing your rounds?”

“That’s right.” He punched his security code into the electronic keypad to relock the case. “I think your boss has gotten a little paranoid.”

Not only had Jordan requested the electronic time clock be installed and increased the frequency of Security’s tours of the top floor during business hours, he’d also instituted the use of a paper log next to the clock so he could tell at a glance when the guards had last secured the area.

“So, Hannah, I guess you’ve changed your rule about not dating people from work.”

“Uhh—what makes you say that?”

“You went out with our boss on Friday night. The way I hear it, you even bought another date with JC. I guess after polishing the hood of his Lamborghini, a guy who only makes fifteen bucks an hour doesn’t stand a chance.”

“It’s not the way it looks, Chuck.”

“Isn’t it? Admit it. You flattered the old man into
gettin
’ you the job so you could snag his grandson.”

“I went to the dance with Jordan as a favor after his date cancelled at the last minute. Mr. Calder gave me the check to bid on his grandson.”

“So then you didn’t tell a few of the guys in management to call you next week, too?”

How could he possibly know about that?

“It’s all about money and power for you, isn’t it? Or maybe you think my dick isn’t big enough for your stuck-up cunt.”

“The only reason I don’t want to go out with you is you’ve done nothing but make insulting presumptions about me from the start. For your information, I’m going out with Hank
Stanzione
from Food Services on Thursday night, and he makes even less than you do.”

Spinning on her heels, she flung open the suite’s door, cursing herself for feeling as if she needed to explain herself to that jerk. She stomped into her office and found Jordan rooting through her desk drawer.

As Hannah closed the door, he glanced up. “Sorry. I’m not prying or anything. I was looking for something for my headache.”

“Wrong drawer.” She stepped behind the desk and found the bottle of pain reliever for him. “I bought you a present that might work a lot better than those.”

She pulled out the CD she’d had delivered express to the office that morning and handed it to him. She hadn’t had a chance to check it out, so she prayed the affirmations masked on it were as indistinguishable as the website had promised.

He turned the clear, unmarked jewel case over several times, studying it. “What’s on it?”

“Just some soothing ocean sounds to help you relax.”
And think about me
. “If you play it while you’re working, I’m hoping it’ll keep you from getting so tense.”

“Thanks.” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And with any luck, the CD would convince him he needed her in his bed and at home for the rest of his life as much as he needed her at the office.

“Great. Here I was going to ask if I could leave a half-hour early today. I have dinner plans, and with the road construction on Route One, I’m afraid I’ll be late.”

He stared at her for several seconds, an unspoken question glittering in his gaze. Obviously, he was dying to know who she was dining with, but to ask would be a violation of their pact.

“Sure. In fact, you can leave right now. That way you’ll have time to pack before you go out tonight.”

Pack?

“Robert and I will pick you up about seven-thirty tomorrow morning.”

Ooops. She’d almost forgotten their business trip. “Okay.” Hannah picked up her tote. “I really appreciate it. Don’t forget to play your CD while you’re working this afternoon. If you take it home and listen to it in bed, it might even help you sleep better.”

“Thanks.” He sauntered toward his office with the two headache tablets and the CD. “I’ll give it a try.”

Maybe by the time they left on their trip, he’d be ready to throw caution to the wind and really get down to business.

“Wait.” She snapped her fingers, stalling halfway out the door. “What about your one-thirty conference call?”

“Don’t worry.” He waved her away. “I’ll handle it.”

“Okay. See you in the morning.”

On the way to the parking lot, at least half a dozen men stopped Hannah to chat, so it was almost two o’clock by the time she finally arrived at her car—which stood out like a weed in a manicured lawn among all the luxury sports cars and SUVs in the reserved executive lot. As she unlocked the door, she glanced down and groaned.

Just her luck. On the one day she could leave early, she had a flat tire. She dug her cell phone from her purse to call the automobile club. She turned toward the trunk and gasped, discovering the back tire also deflated.

A coincidence? She seriously doubted it. Apparently someone had a serious beef with the new Hannah Oliver.

wealth•
y
adj. 1. Having wealth; rich. See Synonyms at rich. 2. Marked by abundance.

Whoever coined the adage, ‘It’s better to be rich than poor,’ knew what they were talking about
.

The tires on Calder’s corporate jet rumbled down the Trenton-Mercer Airport runway and shook Jordan’s soft leather seat as if the massage feature
had been activated
.

When the aircraft’s wheels left the ground and the vibration stopped, he pointed to Hannah’s hand squeezing her cushioned armrest on the opposite side of the polished teak table. “Nervous?”

“A little. I’ve only flown twice.” She yawned, looking nearly as tired as he, by all rights, should feel.

Despite playing the peaceful CD Hannah had given him, he’d woken several times drenched in sweat from erotic dreams starring her. The last and most disturbing one had him slowly undressing his beautiful assistant, which would’ve been fine if she hadn’t been wearing, of all things, a wedding gown.

By then it had been five o’clock, so he’d rolled out of bed rather than risk an instant replay. Oddly enough, the few hours of sleep he’d gotten had been amazingly restful.

She turned to peer out the window and stroked the blue damask curtain. “I can’t believe this jet. I feel like Julia Ormond in
Sabrina
when Harrison Ford whisked her off to Martha’s Vineyard to take pictures of his vacation home.”

Jordan bit back a smile. Little did she realize how close her comparison
was.
He’d also used the guise of work in order to....what? Distract her from other men? Sweep her off her feet?

Could he subconsciously be forcing himself into another compromising situation so he’d have an excuse to forget his rapidly weakening resolve and seduce her?

No. He mentally shoved away the idea. He simply wanted to give her a little vacation. And he was
still
sticking to that story.

“I’m sorry.” She stifled another yawn. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

For his own sanity, he didn’t dare speculate about the reason for the dark shadows under her eyes. But regardless of his determination to put her date out of his mind, the image of some stud keeping her awake all night—and treating her to her first orgasm—insisted on creeping into his subconscious and torturing him.

“If you’d like to snooze on the way, there’s a
bedroo
—”

“No, that’s okay. It’s not that long of a flight. It would just leave me groggy.”

Good. Otherwise he might be tempted to join her, and the way he was feeling, neither of them would get a nap.

The pilot’s voice from the speaker overhead interrupted. “It’s safe to move around the cabin now if you’d like, Sir.”

Pressing the talk button on his armrest, Jordan responded, “Thanks, Pete.”

He strolled forward to the small galley, and after pouring two cups of coffee from the large thermos filled prior to the short flight, he dug a couple of blueberry muffins from the basket. He carried it all back to the table with some napkins and set one of the cups in front of Hannah. “This should wake us up.”

“Thank you.” She sipped her coffee.

As much as he feared the answer, he had to ask. “Did you have fun last night?”

She snorted softly. “Don’t get me started on that subject. I was stood up and then laid awake half the night fuming.”

“I’m sorry.” Right. That’s why he was doing the Snoopy dance in his head. “I hope you won’t be giving the creep a second chance.”

“I don’t have much choice since the creep in question is my mother.”

Relief hissed out of his chest. “Oh? So what happened?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I swear she does these things to torture me. When she suggested meeting last night for dinner, she never acknowledged it would be the day after my birthday. And naturally she didn’t call me on Sunday.”

“I’m sure she’ll feel awful when she remembers.”

“No, she won’t. I guarantee she didn’t forget.” Hannah bit into her muffin.

“You don’t think it could’ve been a legitimate mistake?”

“No way.” She wiped some crumbs from her lips with her napkin. “Getting pregnant with me ruined her life. Believe me, she’d never forget the day she had me.”

“So you think her no-show is some sort of passive aggression?”

“What else? She knows how much it hurts me that she can’t be bothered to remember my birthday. She went out of her way to make me think she might do something to celebrate my thirtieth, and then she doesn’t even show up.”

“It only hurts because you love her. If you didn’t have any expectations—”

“I don’t expect anything from her.”

“Sure you do. You want her approval.”

He should know. He’d had a father who’d never wanted him. The sad part was that void in Hannah’s life was probably the very thing that had molded her into the generous, giving person she’d become.

“I’m already paying a therapist.” She snorted softly. “So I hope you’re not planning to bill me for your psychoanalysis.”

“And I bet he’s telling you the same thing.”

“She. Callie’s sister is my psychologist.”

“Seriously, Hannah, every time you have expectations that your mother will be different, you give her the power to disappoint you. She’s been your mom for thirty years. Yet you keep setting yourself up.”

“So you’re saying this is
my
fault?” The color in her face deepened to match her rose-colored skirt and short-sleeved jacket. Although her hem ended several inches above her knee and her knit top hugged her breasts a bit too close for his comfort, she still looked very professional.