Be Mine. Victoria Dahl
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Название: Be Mine

Автор: Victoria Dahl

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Эротическая литература

Серия: Mills & Boon M&B

isbn: 9781472011510

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ you. And not listening.” He smiled at her, and she smiled back automatically. Even if he was a deaf Hun, he had a sweet smile.

      He put down the report. “Please try the perfume on. Let’s see if it works.”

      “If you will,” she said, and he took the bottle from her and dabbed a couple of drops on the back of his hand.

      She sat down across from him. “It probably won’t work there. I think R & D said it needs heat for the chemical reaction.” She picked up the bottle and pulled out the stopper, then stroked it into the hollow between her breasts. He watched her, mesmerized, and then said in a strangled voice, “I wish you wouldn’t do that.”

      “It’s the warmest place I’ve got,” she said, and when he raised his eyebrows, she added, “For perfume, anyway,” and then blushed.

      He rubbed his fingers over the perfume on his hand. “There is a slight tingle. A little warmth.”

      The skin between her breasts grew warm and began to prickle slightly. Emily rubbed her finger over the tingle and shivered. It was somewhere between a tickle and heat, and she felt her skin respond and tighten. “Make a note never to put this stuff on any erogenous zone. This is like Spanish fly.”

      He was staring at her blouse, and she looked down and saw that her nipples were pushing against the thin silk. She flushed and hunched her shoulders so her blouse wouldn’t be stretched so tight across her, but all she accomplished was to push her breasts together, deepening her cleavage and his confusion.

      It also created more heat between her breasts, and the perfume started to sting.

      “Is your hand burning?” she asked him, and he tore his eyes from her blouse.

      “What? Uh, yes, a little.”

      “They’ve made it too strong.” Emily drew a breath. “Way too strong.” She shifted in her chair and ran her fingertips into her blouse while Richard watched, fascinated.

      “Are you all right?”

      Emily bit her lip. “Oh, yes, sure.”

      The stuff was really blazing now. She shifted uneasily in her chair.

      “Emily?”

      It was too much. She tore open the top buttons of her blouse and reached over the desk, ripping his pocket square from his suit jacket, giving him a brief glimpse of white lace stretched over full round breasts before she drenched his handkerchief in the water pitcher and plastered it on the fire on her skin.

      When the burning eased, she said, “I am personally going to slaughter the folks in R & D.”

      “Are you all right?”

      She winced as she blotted the perfume off with the dripping cloth. “Almost. How’s your hand?”

      “Not bad.” He flexed it a little. “Hardly noticeable, really.”

      “It must be the heat, then.” She pulled away the cloth and examined the red patch on her skin. “Well, no scars, anyway.” She looked up to see him staring.

      “No, it looks great,” he said.

      She pulled her blouse shut. “Sorry about your pocket hankie.”

      He finally gave up and laughed. “Anytime. Shall I send the bottle back?”

      “No.” She picked up the bottle. “I want to deliver this personally.”

      “My sympathies to R & D, then.”

      She stopped, intrigued. “Why?”

      He grinned at her ruefully. “Of all the people in this company, you’re the one I’d least want coming after me. You take no prisoners.”

      “Good.” She smiled back. “Remember that.”

      * * *

      “LET’S GO TO LUNCH,” Chris said when she stormed into the lab. “My place.”

      “Croswell, the perfume peels skin off. Fix it, or your job will be someone else’s.”

      “What do you mean, peels skin off?”

      “It burns. Didn’t you test this stuff?”

      “Yes, of course, we did.” Chris took the bottle back. “On wrists and behind the ears. No problem.”

      “Well, it’s a problem other places.”

      “What other places?”

      “Just fix it,” Emily snapped.

      He shook his head. “You need to relax. Dump the twelfth floor and come out to dinner with me tonight.” He leered. “You can show me the other places.”

      “You won’t be eating dinner, Croswell. You will be fixing the sizzle in that bottle.”

      “Oh, come on, Emily,” he said, and then stopped, chilled by the look in her eye.

      “I am not without power here,” she said coldly. “Do you believe I can have you fired?”

      He thought about it. “Yes.”

      “Do you believe I will have you fired if you do not fix that perfume and if you do not stop harassing me?”

      He looked at her eyes. “Yes.”

      “Then I suggest you get to work,” she said, then left, slamming the door behind her.

      Jane followed her into the office when she got back.

      “What did he do now?”

      “Could I get somebody fired for harassment?”

      “Richard?” Jane was shocked.

      “No!” Emily said, outraged. “Of course not! It’s that idiot Croswell.”

      “Thousands would cheer.” Jane sat down.

      “Do I have that kind of power here?”

      “Sure. Especially if Richard found out.”

      “I don’t want him doing my dirty work.”

      “What did Croswell do?”

      “Nothing he hasn’t been doing for the past two years. I just finally broke today. I was so mad. I’m still so mad.”

      “I can tell. Do you think he’ll stop?”

      Emily thought about it. “Yes. He knows I’m serious, and he believes I can get rid of him.”

      “You can. George’s bluster notwithstanding, the company doesn’t want to lose you.”

      “It’s nice to know I’m valued.”

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