The Elliotts: Mixing Business with Pleasure. Brenda Jackson

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      “Ouch. You make me sound—” He paused. “Callous.”

      “No. You’re just very practical. Even about your affairs.”

      “Being practical and up front protects things in the end. If I hadn’t been honest with you from the beginning, you wouldn’t have wanted to speak to me, let alone come back to Pulse.”

      “I’m not sure your theory is dead-on, particularly about women. But I adopted your practical approach about coming back to Pulse. I give you something you want in exchange for getting something I want.”

      His sperm. Gannon was starting to feel like a prize bull. He knew this wasn’t the right time to start trying to persuade her that using his sperm for her baby was an insane idea. He’d given the idea repeated consideration, but he knew what he had to do—stall the sperm contract until Erika came to her senses.

      None of this had comforted him last night after he’d done his best to arouse her only to hear she was meeting another man. “How was your TDH last night?”

      She appeared to pull a deliberately neutral expression over her face. “He was nice. Very nice.”

      “Did the aphrodisiacs work?”

      “That’s not really any of your business,” she said.

      “It can be. I don’t like lighting the fire of a woman to keep another man warm.”

      She stared at him in silence, then laughed aloud. “That’s one of the most ridiculous things you’ve ever said.”

      “How so?” he asked, not sure if he felt more irritated with himself or with her.

      “I hate to feed your ego, but most of the women in this office fantasize about you. You’re too good-looking for the moral fortitude of pretty much the whole female race. Do you really think women don’t get worked up over you, then unleash their frustration and passion on some lucky, unsuspecting male?”

      He looked at her in disbelief, words eluding him.

      She folded her hands together. “So what I’m saying is if you dislike the idea that you’re heating a lot of pots when somebody else is getting the meal, you just need to get over it.”

      He raked his hand through his hair. “No one has ever said anything like that to me.”

      “It’s just the truth.”

      “You can damn well be sure it hadn’t occurred to me.”

      “Of course it hasn’t. You’re too busy being your handsome, sexy, workaholic self to notice.”

      “I’m trying to tell if you’re complimenting or insulting me.”

      “Both and neither. I’m just being practical, like you. Telling you the truth.”

      Gannon looked into her eyes for a long moment. She’d grown stronger during their time apart. Smarter. More practical. He felt the burn of challenge chafe at him. It was the same feeling he’d given in to last year. Only it seemed even stronger now. Erika had always managed to turn his head and harden his groin as no other woman could. Her combination of mental toughness and hidden emotional softness drew him like a magnet.

      Even though he knew getting involved with her could wreak havoc with his family’s reputation and hers, he had a tough time depriving himself of going after her. Nothing and no one but his career grabbed his attention as she did. He’d broken the rules with her before and damn if he didn’t want to again.

      Gannon reined in the impulse to seduce her past her practicality until she was moaning with him inside her. He summoned a businesslike tone and said, “Let me know if you have any questions. I’d like to get the contract signed tomorrow.”

      “Okay, I’ll look it over tonight.”

      “Good. And by the way, my father wants four representatives from Pulse at a cocktail party hosted by the United Nations ambassador from India. It’s tomorrow night. You want in or not?”

      He saw immediately that she did. In her eyes he saw a dozen lights signifying a dozen feature ideas.

      “Yes,” she said. “May I bring a guest?”

      Gannon paused, feeling a quick, unwelcome spike of an unpleasant emotion he preferred not to examine. “Sure. As long as they can pass a security search. Give the name to my assistant.”

      The following morning New York City was hit by a nor’easter that brought a foot of snow. EPH allowed employees to leave early as reports of electrical outages and traffic accidents increased throughout the day.

      Erika took advantage of the quiet and finished some work on HomeStyle, then turned her hand to editing one of the three articles for Pulse that had greeted her that morning on her desk.

      An e-mail from Gannon’s assistant informed her that the cocktail party was cancelled due to the weather, which was probably just as well since she was on the fence about whether she wanted to see Gerald, the TDH podiatrist, again.

      When she’d met him for drinks, she’d found him tall, dark and handsome, funny and intelligent, but it seemed that every hour since she’d met him, for some reason unknown to her, her interest had waned.

      Making a face, she turned her attention back to the article she was editing. At five o’clock she glanced out the window at the mess of weather and traffic and decided to fix herself a mug of hot chocolate instead of going home yet. She walked through the nearly deserted office to get some water for her coffeemaker, which she didn’t use for coffee. On her way back she noticed the door to Gannon’s office was ajar and the light was on.

      Tempted for a second to say hi, she thought better of it and continued toward her office.

      “You’re not going to share?”

      Gannon’s deep voice traveled down the hall to tickle her ears just as she started to turn a corner. She stopped midstride and considered continuing on as if she hadn’t heard. Her hesitation decided for her.

      Gannon appeared just behind her and the sight of him made her stomach do a little dip. “I know that pot of water isn’t for coffee. It’s for hot chocolate. You steal the community coffee at work on the rare times when you want it.”

      “If it’s community, I’m not stealing it. And I don’t advertise my hot chocolate with marshmallows. I generally confine it to my office.”

      “You don’t have to. We can smell it. There’s a blizzard outside. We’re the only two people left on the floor and you’re not going to share your hot chocolate with me?”

      Even though he was joking, she couldn’t help feeling like a selfish little beast. “Okay, come on. I have a couple extra packets. What I don’t understand is why you want my instant hot chocolate when you could get the real thing in the executive dining room.”

      “Proximity,” he said, joining her as she walked toward her office. “Besides, the executive dining room is closed.”

      “You could tell your assistant to get it for you.”

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