The CEO Buys in (Wager of Hearts #1) (12 page)

He pulled a chair away from a workstation and wheeled it over beside his own chair, angling it to face one of the wings of the admittedly huge desk. “Sit here.”

She gave him a look that said she’d rather sit by a spider, and he smiled inwardly. This was going to be fun.

After four hours of perching within two feet of Nathan Trainor, Chloe was in a state of seething physical turmoil and utter mental exhaustion. Keeping up with a mind as lightning fast as his was hard enough, but when she asked a question and he glided his chair over to look at her computer screen, her body compounded the problem.

He would lean in, bringing his cheek so close she had only to turn her head to kiss it. Or they would both reach for the same touch-screen icon and his fingers would brush over the back of her hand, leaving a trail of heat that lingered for minutes. The most exquisite torture was when he would stretch his arm across the desk in front of her to pick up whatever report or contract she was working on. The warm fragrance of starch and man filled her nostrils, making her want to thread her fingers into the heavy waves of his hair, so she could hold him there and simply breathe in.

Even during the midmorning break he finally agreed to take, he lounged on the couch and invited her to sit in one of the leather upholstered chairs beside him while one of his minions served them coffee and various brunch-style snacks. When Trainor stretched out his legs, the fabric of his trousers caught against the nylon covering her calf, and the contact zinged right up to a spot between her thighs.

When Ed appeared in the doorway to inquire where Mr. Trainor would like him to serve lunch, Chloe interjected, “Don’t fix anything for me. I need to run some errands, so I’ll grab a sandwich at a deli.”

She was amazed to see a look of disappointment cross her boss’s face. “I thought we would work through lunch,” he said. “We’ve got some good momentum going.”

So it wasn’t that he wanted to spend some social time with her. He just wanted to keep working. Irritation at her stupid naïveté made her tart. “I’m entitled to thirty minutes of paid lunchtime.”

Annoyance flashed across Trainor’s face. “Take as long as you need. Have Oskar drive you wherever you want to go.”

“Let me make you a sandwich to take with you,” Ed said, his tone conciliatory. “There aren’t many delis in this neighborhood.”

Suddenly she felt stifled. All these offers of so-called help seemed more like attempts to keep her in Trainor’s orbit.

She stood up, sending her chair rolling backward so that Trainor had to catch it to avoid a collision. “Thank you, but I prefer to walk and find my own lunch. I’ll be back in a half hour.”

She stomped out of the room and down the hall, only to stop in front of the elevator with its palm plate. Would the doors open for her, or did her handprint have to be authorized in some way?

Annoyed, she slapped her hand against the black square and dashed away a tear of relief when the doors slid apart. At least she could leave of her own free will while she had the strength to do it.

Nathan tilted back his chair and pressed his fingertips against his eyelids. He’d screwed that up royally.

“If you want to work yourself into a state of collapse, that’s your call. But you need to let Ms. Russell come up for air every now and then,” Ed said.

Nathan dropped his hand and looked at the man who’d been more of a father to him than his own. “It was an excuse.”

“For what?”

“I wanted her to eat lunch with me.”

“Did you consider just asking her?”

Nathan shook his head. “I’m her employer.”

Ed’s look of censure faded. “Not at lunchtime. You’re just a man who’d like some good company.”

There were no delis within a five-block radius of Trainor’s building, so Chloe was forced to spend twice her normal lunch budget for an artsy sandwich at a snooty bistro. At least she’d found a pleasant little park to eat in while she lectured herself about letting her boss get to her. He was bored because he was confined to his house. She was just a temp, which made it safe for him to toy with her. Once he got back to the office, his interest in her would evaporate.

A niggling little voice asked her why she didn’t just give in to the attraction flaring between them. What would she lose? He wouldn’t tell anyone because it wouldn’t look good for a CEO to sleep with his temporary executive assistant. She wouldn’t tell anyone for the reverse reason.

He was just a man. He put his pants on one leg at a time, although she hadn’t actually seen him do it. So why did she feel out of her depth with Nathan Trainor? Maybe she was afraid he would ruin her for a lesser mortal. After all, it was hard to compete with helicopters, Jimmy Choo sandals, and a chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce. In bed, all those would be stripped away. He wouldn’t be wearing a custom-tailored suit, and she wouldn’t be wearing a bargain-basement scarf.

He’d made love to movie stars and supermodels. She would be a minor diversion compared to those, possibly a disappointment.

What she had to lose was her self-respect.

She hung on to that thought as she walked back into Trainor’s office twenty-nine minutes after she’d left. It was empty. She sat down at her workstation and picked up where she’d left off on the report she’d been editing, becoming so absorbed in the task that she was shocked to find twenty minutes had passed before Trainor sauntered in.

He’d rolled up the sleeves of his shirt so she could see the ridge of muscle along his forearms. The sight sent a thrill of heat up her spine.
Self-respect
, she reminded herself.

“Got all your errands done?” he asked, coming around the desk to seat himself. The scent of the expensive soap he must have just washed his hands with wafted past her, making the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck prickle.

“Errands?” She’d nearly forgotten her spur-of-the moment excuse. “A couple of them.”

“I told you to take as long as you needed.”

She decided it was better not to argue with him. “Yes, you did.”

He gave her a long look before swiveling his chair toward his computer. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and returned to her report.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the motion of his hand as he swiped documents and e-mails on and off his screen at high speed. Then all movement ceased and he cursed under his breath.

She waited but he made no further comment. She heard his chair creak and sneaked a glance to see him leaning back with his fingers steepled in front of a ferocious frown.

“Problem?” she asked.

“The same problem. The Prometheus project has hit another wall.”

Chloe discarded her newly instituted policy of not disagreeing with her boss. It had been a lost cause from the start. She couldn’t keep her thoughts to herself when someone refused to see the obvious. “Who invented the original Trainor Electronics battery?”

He lowered his hands and looked at her. “What’s your point?”

“You’re trying to develop a better battery, but you’re depriving your research-and-development department of the most brilliant mind in the company. Yours.”

“I have a multinational corporation to run. I can’t take time off to do R and D.”

“You have a whole bunch of vice presidents. Let them run it for a while.”

Astonishment froze him for a moment. It was still in his voice when he spoke. “You’re telling me how to manage Trainor Electronics.”

Chloe wasn’t backing down. “All I know is you have a key project floundering, and you’re the person best qualified to rescue it.”

Longing crossed his face before he looked away. “I was young. I had no responsibilities and I didn’t know what was impossible.”

“So you’re afraid you’ve lost your ability to innovate?”

His gaze snapped back to her. “Thousands of people depend on Trainor Electronics to pay their mortgages, fund their health insurance, and feed their families. I can’t walk away from that.”

She began to understand that he felt the weight of all his employees’ lives on his shoulders. Trainor was more his father’s son than he wanted to acknowledge. Something made her keep prodding him. “Look at it this way. Trainor Electronics can provide livelihoods for even more people if the Prometheus project succeeds because you pitched in.”

“Why are you so interested in the well-being of Trainor Electronics?”

“I’m not. I just see the obvious solution to your problem.” He needed some joy in his life, and she got the feeling that working on the new battery would bring it to him. “But I’m just a temp, so you don’t have to pay any attention to me.”

The tense muscles in his jaw relaxed, and an undercurrent of amusement ran through his voice. “You are downright impossible to ignore.”

“Because I have a valid point.” Chloe basked in the glow of Trainor’s compliment. At least, she decided to take it as such.

“Because you are an unusual person.”

That was definitely a compliment.

He continued. “Opinionated, outspoken, insubordinate, manipulative, mercenary . . .”

Or not.

“. . . and Machiavellian—all qualities I admire.”

Chloe couldn’t stop her pleased grin. “You do?”

“Yes, I admire them so much that I want to do something inappropriate.” He took her hands and stood, drawing her to her feet with him.

Her heart stuttered as he released her hands to slide one of his under her hair to the nape of her neck. He cradled her head and tilted it so he could bring his lips down on hers at a better angle. There was plenty of time for her to armor herself in self-respect and step away from him, but she didn’t.

Because last night she’d been dying for him to kiss her and he hadn’t. Now she wanted to know how his lips would feel against hers. That was all. Then she would bring this to a halt.

She kept her eyes open as he came closer, appreciating the gray-and-silver striations in his eyes, the grit of dark stubble along his jaw, the bold strokes of his eyebrows. Then the first brush of his mouth sent her eyelids drifting down so she could savor the firm warmth of the lips she’d been so curious about. His fingers wove themselves into her hair while he slipped his other hand to the small of her back to bring her whole body against his.

He traced the line between her lips with the tip of his tongue, not invading, just stroking lightly. Then he shifted his weight so his thigh pressed between hers, her slim skirt pulling tight around her hips to accommodate him. It was the lightest of friction, but it sent a ripple of tiny detonations through her body, making her breasts ache and desire pool inside her.

She slid her hands up his arms and gripped his shoulders, crushing her breasts against the wall of his chest. She wanted to rip open the buttons of her blouse and tear off her bra so her skin could graze the fine cotton of his shirt.

In response, his kiss turned demanding, and she opened her lips to him. As their tongues met, his hand slipped downward to cup her behind and half lift her so he could force his thigh farther between hers. The sudden full contact made her arch into him, and he growled low in the back of his throat.

At the sound, a surge of power ran through her. She had made him do that. Any hesitation melted away and she gave in to her desire to run her hands over the beautiful muscles of his back, the roping strength of his arms, and the rippled lines of his abdomen. Another sound of wordless arousal rumbled in his chest.

He dragged his lips to her earlobe, which he nipped. A laser beam of heat tightened her nipples and fed the arousal between her legs. Then his fingers were at the buttons of her blouse. She threaded her arms between his and tugged at his buttons at the same time. He finished first, opening her blouse and pushing it down her arms. She gave up on his buttons long enough to let him pull it all the way off.

His sudden intake of breath sent another wave of heat through her body. She unfastened the last of his shirt buttons and yanked his shirttails out of his waistband. As she exposed the planes of his chest, she remembered his response to her question about keeping in shape. He must have one heck of a sex life.

Distracted by the sight of his torso, she hadn’t realized his fingers had found the clasp of her bra until suddenly it went loose and slid down to her elbows. Before she could react, his hands were on her breasts, his thumbs teasing the already sensitive nipples. Sheer, delicious pleasure rioted through her. She hooked her fingers into his belt and leaned away to give him full access.

Shifting his hands to her hips, he hoisted her up and pushed her onto the desk. Shoving her skirt up her thighs, he spread them apart and stepped in to wedge himself between them. Then he bent to take one of her nipples in his mouth.

All she could do was hang on to his shoulders for dear life because he was driving her to the verge of orgasm.

As he pulled at her breast, she felt his fingers trail up her inner thigh, over the top of her thigh-high stockings, under the lace of her panties, and finally slide inside the wet, aching hollow between her legs. He did something wicked with his thumb, and she convulsed in a blast of explosive release so intense she arched backward and sent the computer screen crashing to the floor.

He flexed his fingers, and the orgasm slammed into her again and again until she went limp, trembling with delicious aftershocks. Collapsing onto his shoulder, she felt him begin to slip his fingers from inside her and locked her thighs together to stop him. “I like you there,” she mumbled.

She squeezed her inner muscles as another aftershock shimmered through her, and he huffed out a breath. “I want more than my fingers there,” he said hoarsely.

Now she wanted more than his fingers there too. She let her thighs fall open.

“No condom,” he practically groaned.

That startled her into opening her eyes and lifting her head. The tendons of his neck were taut, and his face was a study in frustrated arousal. He lifted the hand she’d freed and slid two fingers in his mouth, closing his eyes as he tasted her on his skin. “Perfect,” he said.

The word vibrated into her core, making her frantically scan the room as though she could find a condom somewhere. Then a couple of realizations struck her. He hadn’t planned to seduce her or he would have come prepared. And with all his wealth and resources, he didn’t have something as commonplace as a condom when he needed it. That struck her as funny, and she had to quash a smile. “Maybe you could ring for Ed to bring one.”

For a moment, he looked flabbergasted. Then a strained smile curved his gorgeously male lips. “Don’t mess with a highly aroused but unsatisfied man,” he warned. “Or you may find yourself in an awkward position.”

She almost challenged him, just to find out what position he meant. Instead, she stroked her palm down the rock-hard erection tenting his trousers. “Let me ease your frustration.”

He captured her hand and lifted it to his lips for a kiss, his breath caressing her skin as he said, “I want to come inside you the first time.”

His words knocked her breathless. “Oh.”

He swept her bra off the desk and held it up by both straps. “Put this on so I can undress you in my bedroom.”

As she shoved her arms through the straps and he wrapped the elastic around to her back and deftly hooked it, she became conscious of the fact that she still sat with her skirt rucked up to her hips and Trainor between her splayed thighs. Yet his touch was so careful and attentive as he held her blouse for her to slide her arms into that she felt no awkwardness.

That would come later.

After buttoning her blouse and helping her find the pins to retwist the bun he’d set free, Trainor shrugged into his shirt and, without bothering to button it, took her hand to lead her out the door. He stopped at a touch pad to press his thumb against one corner before they stepped into the elevator.

“What’s that for?” Chloe asked as the elevator soared upward to the third floor of the penthouse.

“Privacy. So the staff knows what part of the house to stay away from.”

“I see.” What she saw was that maybe having a horde of people at your beck and call had some drawbacks. “Have you ever been, er, interrupted?”

He looked down at her with a frown. “No.”

“Good to know.” Although she suspected that if a staff member wandered into a private moment, he or she would remove himself or herself without the boss being aware of it.

He must have heard some skepticism in her voice. “My bedroom is off-limits at all times, unless I specifically call for someone.”

That made her feel somewhat better. “What about your office?” She imagined Ed walking in when she was half-undressed.

“The same.”

At least she could relax in two rooms of his house.

Nathan decided not to mention the security cameras. Those got turned off by the privacy switch too, but he could see Chloe’s mood beginning to shift. Some women found the display of wealth a turn-on. His temp was not one of them.