She bit her lip in consternation, and he’d never wanted something so badly as to reach across the desk, thumb her lip free and then kiss away the damage she was doing to the tender flesh. His dick reacted to that image, and he was glad he was seated behind his desk where she couldn’t see his physical reaction to her. She’d tuck tail and run for the hills, and she’d very likely tender her resignation within the hour.
He sighed, silently commanding his dick to behave. Not that it did a bit of good because the woman just did it for him and he couldn’t even explain why. Challenge. She was a challenge. That had to be it. Because he simply couldn’t resist a challenge. Even as he reasoned away his inexplicable attraction to a woman who in no way returned it, he knew he was a goddamn liar.
She riled every single one of his protective instincts. She made him want to treat her gently, cherish her and protect her from anything that could ever hurt her, physically or emotionally.
Damn it, he wanted to show her that not all men were ass**les. That not all dominant men were focused so solidly on the more physical aspects of dominance. Emotional surrender was what he was after with Kylie. He’d never mark her, never tie her up. Never take a flogger to her tender flesh. He’d never do anything to frighten her or make her feel as vulnerable as she’d felt in the past in the hands of a monster. He’d never do anything to remind her of her past abuse. He’d die before allowing that to happen. He too had demons he fought, and it would have made him physically ill to ever do anything to a woman that could be construed as abuse.
He just wanted . . . her.
“All right,” she finally said in a husky voice that made him go even harder. Because there was capitulation in her voice. Not quite submission, but it was close and it fired his blood, made it sing through his veins, because just this once, he’d won.
“I’ll meet you at the restaurant at seven,” she said.
She lifted her gaze challengingly to his, as if to dare him to argue with her statement. He merely smiled back. He’d allow her this small victory because the bigger one was already his. Dinner. Just the two of them. Yeah, they’d talk business, but he also planned to delve deeper into this intriguing woman. Figure out what made her tick. And he’d pick her up the next day and drive her to their meeting. Which meant she was dependent on him the entire day.
He liked that idea. Liked it too damn much. Her dependent on him. The hell he’d ever let her down or make her regret her grudging trust. Oh, he knew she didn’t trust him yet. That would be the biggest hurdle to overcome. Baby steps. Take it one small victory at a time.
“Seven it is,” he agreed.
She was surprised. It showed on her face. She had already been bracing herself for an argument, her shoulders squared and chin thrust upward in defiance. Even that aroused him, almost violently.
He might like submissive women, but submissive didn’t mean being a doormat. He loved an independent woman perfectly capable of making her own choices. Submissive women, or at least the ones he’d been with, chose to submit. Chose to offer their surrender into his keeping. And that was a very powerful thing indeed.
He wanted a strong woman. Someone who didn’t need him and what he offered but wanted it. That made all the difference to him. He wanted someone who could stand up for herself and not back down. Who would go toe-to-toe with him and meet him halfway.
In return? He’d lay the world at her feet. She’d never want for anything he could give her. He’d pamper her, utterly adore her, worship her and cherish her.
He ached to do that for Kylie. Had ached for that since the very first time he’d met her when they’d had dinner at Dash’s that night. He’d seen the shadows under her eyes, had seen the torment she hid from the world. And he wanted nothing more than to be a balm to the agony she’d endured and still endured to this day.
But it would require infinite patience on his part. Patience had never been high on his list of good qualities, but for the right woman? He could exert the patience of Job.
She gathered the papers, already scanning the contents. He could see her mind working furiously, taking it all in. He knew well she was an extremely intelligent woman with an eye for business. Just as he knew she was wasted in her current job. Even if things never worked out for them the way he intended, she’d still make a valuable asset as a partner one day. If he didn’t frighten her away first.
“If that’s all,” she said absently, still absorbed in the paperwork, “I’ll get back to my office and start going over this. I’ll have my ideas ready by our dinner Wednesday night.”
He smiled again, taking in her adorable features. For just one moment, the shadows that seemed a permanent fixture in her eyes had been removed and a determined fire had replaced them. He could sense her excitement, her anticipation. She wanted to prove herself. She was rising to his challenge beautifully and he couldn’t wait to see the results.
He knew she wouldn’t let him down. That she was far more intelligent than either Carson or Dash gave her credit for. It wasn’t that either man belittled her or didn’t believe in her abilities. They were just too emotionally involved and their instincts were to protect her. He understood it, even agreed with them to a certain point.
But they’d done her no favors by sheltering her so vigorously. She needed more of a challenge. Needed an outlet for her analytical mind and intelligence. A trained monkey could do her current job. Answer phones, schedule appointments, ready contracts for signature and run the office.
But he was offering her a hell of a lot more.
Equality.
And when in her life had she ever felt she was an equal to anyone else? She’d lived her life as a victim. With good reason. But it was time to move beyond being that victim and become a survivor. A survivor who rose above her past and kicked the present’s ass.
If he could have any part in that at all, whether they entered a relationship or not, he’d be fiercely proud of her.
THREE
SHE couldn’t believe she was following through with this lunacy. Kylie rolled to a stop in front of the Capitol Grill and the valet opened her car door to assist her out. After collecting her ticket she headed inside the darkened interior.
The restaurant screamed rich old farts, or at least it catered to that crowd. The furnishings were very masculine and portraits of rich old farts even dotted the walls. She glanced down selfconsciously, wondering if she was dressed appropriately for this joint. The other women in the waiting area all wore cocktail dresses and plenty of expensive jewelry with elegant, upswept hairdos.