One Night with Her Brooding Boss: Ruthless Boss, Dream Baby / Her Impossible Boss / The Secretary’s Bossman Bargain. Susan Stephens

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СКАЧАТЬ we design a campaign.’

      ‘What do women want?’ Quinn didn’t even pretend to think about it. ‘Who cares when men pay the bills? This is business, Magenta, not some feel-good society for you to float around in. Men earn the money women spend—remember that. So men are our target audience.’

      She hated herself for trembling with awareness of Quinn when he was preaching this heresy. But Quinn was a product of his time, Magenta remembered, which made what she had to do while she was a visitor in this dream world all the more important. ‘But you’ve just admitted women do the shopping, so they have control of the finances.’

      ‘Nonsense. Are you the most argumentative woman I’ve ever met?’ he demanded. ‘Who tells a woman what to buy, Magenta? Her man.’

      ‘Not this woman.’

      Quinn looked at her and almost laughed. He controlled it well, but at least he’d lightened up. That was a small victory of sorts, Magenta supposed, wondering if her heart would reach some critical point where it would have to slow down.

      ‘All I’m asking you to do is to tune in to your audience, Magenta, but sometimes, I think your head’s elsewhere—like another century, maybe.’

      Close. But she couldn’t stop now. ‘If you go on with this belief that we only have to sell to one sector of the community, then this company will sink like a stone, taking your investment with it.’

      There was silence, and then to Magenta’s relief Quinn’s face relaxed as another idea occurred to him. ‘Why don’t you illuminate me on the correct way to reach every member of our target audience?’ Challenge turned his steely gaze to fire.

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      ‘I’D BE pleased to explain,’ Magenta said, facing up to Quinn. She had to look up at him; he towered over her. ‘There are plenty of women in the workplace trying to keep a family afloat.’

      ‘You think I don’t know that?’

      How attractive was that crease in his cheek? And how determined was she not to be distracted by it? ‘Women have always been fighters, Quinn—they’ve had to be—and if you want to know what appeals to them you capture the whole of the market—their men and the next generation, too.’

      ‘And if I want to know how to appeal to women I should ask you?’

      Like Quinn didn’t appeal to every woman he met. But he didn’t face up their ads. ‘You could ask any of the women who work here for their opinion. Use the resources you have, don’t ignore them. Ask them what they like to buy, to use, to experience.

      ‘You’re suggesting we run a series of trials?’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Involve women in our brainstorming sessions?’

      ‘Of course.’

      ‘Persuade me.’

      Quinn’s eyes were dark and smoky; how she longed to. But this was her chance; she couldn’t blow it. ‘Okay. So, women want to buy your products because they’re dependable, exciting and they can trust them—but women want to command attention too. They want to look sharp—they want to be in control.’

      ‘And they want to do all this while they’re sitting behind a typewriter knocking three bells out of their expensive manicure?’

      ‘And so the ad has to say to them,’ Magenta drove on determinedly, ‘You’re in charge!’

      ‘That’s a dangerous line to take.’

      ‘Are you telling me men are so fragile they can’t survive a challenge from a strong woman?’ She held Quinn’s gaze. Feeling strong whilst pulsating with lust was confusing, to say the least.

      ‘You’re a strong woman, Magenta.’

      ‘Yes, I am.’ She knew Quinn was testing her, looking for cracks in her defences. He knew she wanted him to yank her close and devour her with kisses. ‘But I’m only one example of a strong woman,’ she told him coolly. ‘I’m sure there are many others right here in this office.’

      ‘Some men don’t find strong women attractive.’

      And you, Quinn? Magenta longed to ask him, but she already knew the answer. Quinn was highly sexed—hot, feral, dangerous. Her body was ringing proof of that. Of course he liked strong women. Quinn would like the challenge of subduing them.

      ‘I never discount a woman’s needs.’

      ‘If you do, it’s your loss.’ She had thought he was talking about business, but as Quinn’s lips curved she realised he was teasing her and that his mind was on anything but business. It was time to sharpen up that sleep-deprived brain of hers and take this battle to the next level.

      ‘Why don’t you get two glasses and we’ll have a drink?’ Quinn suggested. A sexy grin played around his lips. ‘You should take some down-time occasionally.’

      Yes, she could go with that—she could let drink fuzz her mind and make that her excuse for giving the green light to Quinn’s white-hot charm offensive—but she wanted more out of life than fleeting satisfaction. ‘I’m good. I’d like to finish this work so it’s ready for you to see in the morning.’ That was the right thing to do. She should remain strong.

      She should do a lot of things, Magenta reflected as her body melted like butter when Quinn closed his hands on her arms. Business was one thing, but this was something very different, and she was tired of keeping up a front. She was tired full-stop, and felt dreamy and reckless… And Quinn was…Quinn.

      ‘Better?’ he murmured, curving a smile as he dropped a kiss on her mouth.

      She sucked in a ragged breath, exclaiming softly somewhere deep in her throat as Quinn deepened the kiss. This was some dream. His hands were lazily coasting down her back while her responses were quickly changing from tentative to hungry and on to greed.

      She almost staggered when he stepped back.

      He steadied her and then gave her a mocking look.

      ‘Why?’ she said, feeling hurt and confusion overwhelm her. She never lost control, except for this one time.

      ‘Because you’re tense.’

      She got what she deserved. Magenta passed her hand across her lust-swollen lips and then kept it there as if she could hide her arousal. They both liked to be in control, but Quinn was far better at this than she was. She was hardly a practised siren, and even in a dream her skills hadn’t improved in that direction.

      Quinn moved behind her and she tensed as his warm hands found the tender spot on the nape of her neck where all the stress had collected.

      ‘I told you there was tension,’ he said, proving how skilled he was at clearing her mind of anything but sensation.

      She didn’t argue as he began to massage the stiffness away. She doubted anyone could move away from that touch. СКАЧАТЬ