Hot Boss, Boardroom Mistress. Natalie Anderson

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      He smiled suddenly. That killer charm of a smile again. It was all too rare but when it flashed it had any female in the immediate vicinity weak at the knees and needy in the womb.

      Amanda, still recovering from her exposure to it last night, felt a double impact.

      Last night. Her brain clicked on—whirring while she read the continued amusement in his expression—and the implication became obvious. Her blood beat faster. He was not surprised to see her here. He had an expectant air—he’d known she was going to be at this meeting.

      Her anger built as images from the flight flashed—she’d been working on the presentation, or at least trying to, for half the time in the air. He’d been right beside her; he’d have seen her screen easily. In fact, she knew he had. And she’d even told him for whom she worked.

      But he had said nothing. Given no clue that they were destined to meet again today. It had to have been deliberate. A red mist of rage swirled before her eyes as she remembered his parting words about maybe meeting each other again ‘soon’. Totally deliberate.

      The swine. The arrogant, calculating swine.

      ‘I want to retire,’ Barry was saying in his jokey manner. ‘He keeps working me too hard.’

      Amanda didn’t smile back. Too angry, she turned. This just couldn’t be happening. She needed to win this pitch, Synergy needed the account, and she needed the money for Grandfather. She pressed her lips together, refusing to unleash the venom she ached to vent.

      The men got seated on the other side of the table and Bronwyn sat too, leaving Amanda to launch into the presentation.

      She switched on the screen. But it stayed blank. She switched it off and then on again. Still blank.

      ‘Mandy?’ Amanda hoped that the sharp hint of panic in Bronwyn’s voice was audible only to her.

      ‘One moment please,’ she said. This was so not what they needed right now.

      The power cord led right past the chair where Jared now sat. As she bent to check the plug was pushed right into the socket he murmured, ‘Mandy? You’re never a Mandy.’

      She straightened and met his eyes for one furious moment. He was laughing—laughing. She knew her face was flushed, could feel it growing all the more so as she absorbed the full extent of this living nightmare. Was this just some trivial joke for him? From the expression in his eyes he wasn’t expecting anything much at any rate. He was out to enjoy himself, not take her seriously.

      For a moment hopelessness swept over and almost sank her. Had this blown all chances of them actually winning the contract?

      Heck no, she couldn’t allow that to happen. Her fighting spirit kicked in. Their pitch was a good idea, it was her first chance to prove herself and more than anything she needed the money. And now she had quadruple the incentive. She was going to ace this presentation and really show him exactly what she was made of.

      She made herself smile at him—as if there were nothing wrong—and then stepped back to her computer. She saw the question in Bron’s eyes and gave her a smile to reassure her—hoping she’d read her strange new skin tone as a sign of nerves, not fury. This time the cords were in right at both ends and light flickered on the screen. All systems go.

      She paused, looked at Barry with his broad, unmistakable grin and then she looked at Jared. No grin, but all cynical challenge and underlying amusement. He really didn’t think she could do it. She inhaled, mentally tossed the ball high and hit him with her most powerful serve.

      Twenty minutes later Jared had his fingers to his tie, discreetly trying to loosen it, wondering why the hell he’d worn it in the first place. Barry had already ribbed him about the suit—his usual work attire was jeans and a shirt. He’d hardly worn a suit since his banking days. The casual vibe of the company was half the reason he’d bought it and he only wore suits on the days when he needed to assert authority. So what was it about today that he felt the need to assert authority?

      It was only Amanda—only the half-naked nuisance of a girl he’d walked away from almost a decade ago. Only the one he hadn’t been allowed—and stupidly the one he’d wanted most.

      He hadn’t known what to expect from the pitch. But he certainly hadn’t expected to be impressed. And he was impressed. After a few minutes there he’d even stopped thinking about how delectable she looked and focused on what she was saying. What she was saying made sense.

      Damn.

      He’d never expected Amanda to turn the tables on him. He’d anticipated a flaky presentation. He’d anticipated a move afterwards. Take her out for a drink. Then somehow get to a place where they could light the fireworks between them and let them explode in a one-night extravaganza. Instead he got her cool ice-princess approach—concise delivery, punchy lines, and, once she’d got going, genuine enthusiasm. So bloody polished, so bloody perfect.

      She’d always felt out of his league. And somehow she still did. Somehow just seeing her sent him into a sort of time warp where he was a teen again and fighting his way out of his lot in life. He’d been so at the mercy of those around him—dependent on generosity. He couldn’t afford to make a wrong move—not then. But damn this feeling—he was the one in control of everything now, wasn’t he?

      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 СКАЧАТЬ