The Billionaire's Demands (A Boardrooms and Billionaires Series Book) (Entangled Indulgence) (4 page)

“My father hardly agrees.”

“I’m not sure I’d hold him up as the be-all and end-all of modern management.” She shook her head. “Damn it, but I really said that.”

“Out loud.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for. You meant it and you weren’t far off the mark.”

“It doesn’t change the fact he’s your father.”

“No.”

She stared down at her barely touched pasta before looking up at him once more, her gaze honest and direct. “I think we’ve both gotten used to parents who can’t quite see the positives in our abilities.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I think your father may be coming around. He was awfully quick to defend you and your sisters at dinner last night.”

“The thought of becoming a grandfather has mellowed him, likely nothing more.”

Her quick dismissal also intrigued him—just like everything else about her—but Booth sensed they were veering into dangerous waters and he was loath to push too hard. Instead he reached for her hand once more. “I’ve thought a lot about you today.”

“Oh?” She pulled her hand back, dropping it into her lap.

“You unsettle me. I have no reason to lie about that and I’ll be damned if I run from it.”

Her eyes widened and her tone rose a notch. “There you go again.”

“Go where?”

“You’re big and powerful. You’re not supposed to admit to weakness of any kind.”

Her ire was so unexpected he couldn’t resist teasing her. “But that’s where you’re wrong.”

“How? Big powerful businessmen don’t admit they’re unsettled. You’re the alpha dog of the newspaper community. Nothing rattles you.”

“Then you’re not looking at the same thing I am.”

“What’s that?”

He reached for her hand yet again, unable to hold that desperate urge to touch her at bay. “You. I’m looking at you. You unsettle me. Intrigue me. And you make me want, Camryn.” He dragged her hand to his mouth, turning it over as he pressed his lips to her palm.

“Booth.”

With a quick flick of his tongue, he ran the tip over the lines of her palm, satisfied beyond measure when she visibly shivered. “I want you, Camryn.”

“This isn’t the place.”

“Then name it.” He exhaled over the small patch of wetness he’d left on the sensitive flesh of her hand and was rewarded with another shiver. “Name the place.”

She dragged her hand away, her gaze on her palm before she firmly re-tucked it in her lap. “I told you last night this isn’t a good idea.”

“A sleepless night didn’t make you rethink that?” It was a calculated comment, but Booth knew it had paid off by the widening of her eyes and the light stammer that filled her words.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I spent mine the exact same way.”

…

Camryn was no closer to answers when she let herself into her apartment at ten that night. The last twenty-four hours had her emotions speeding faster than an out-of-control roller coaster, and she wasn’t sure what to do with them. And she always knew what to do.

She lived her life with conviction, so it was terribly humbling to find herself in a situation that she had no idea how to deal with.

Her lunch conversation with Booth had lingered in her mind all day in vivid Technicolor and she still had moments where she felt the brand of his fingers on her skin.

She hadn’t been interested—truly interested—in a man for far too long, and now the one she was interested in was her sister’s brother-in-law. Their attraction was hardly convenient—or private—and it was destined to be a bad idea when they ultimately parted ways.

She was a toy right now. A challenge. Booth Harrison was a conqueror; it was in his blood. Somehow, getting tangled with conquerors never worked out well for the conquered.

But wouldn’t it be amazing to be his, even if for only a short while?

The mental tennis match had grown irritating in the extreme and she threw down the mail she’d picked up in the lobby on the small island in her kitchen in disgust. With efficient movements, she dug out a fruit smoothie from the fridge and shook it up. As dinners went, it wasn’t a steak, but it would give her the energy boost she needed to power through another hour of work before she dropped into bed.

Her gaze caught on the pile of mail and the thick, folded copy of the
Financial Journal
that had fallen open from where it wrapped around the stack of mail. She knew it was old-school to still get the paper copy, but something about the tangible feel of the newsprint in her hands was a ritual she’d been unwilling to give up.

Of course, the stack of papers that currently lined a shelf in her home office was proof she might need to reconsider her attachment to print. On a shake of her head she opened the paper. “Not enough hours in the day.”

She carried the paper and her drink toward her home office, settling in the small love seat she kept on the far side of the room. She tossed off her heels, curled her legs up underneath her, and flipped through the paper. Her mind filled with images, alternating between the stories she skimmed and her lunch conversation with Booth. The invitation to speak. Their management styles. Even his strange comments about her work to acquire
Magnificent
were laced with the personal. The connection they’d formed was bold and exhilarating and scary as hell.

Her palm still tingled where he’d pressed his tongue and even now, so many hours later, she could still feel the brand of him in that same spot. She pressed her lips to her palm, surprised when a shot of need speared her core as bold, heated images of having sex with Booth filled her mind’s eye.

She tossed the paper aside and stood to pace the room. The man did things to her. Crazy, wicked things that had her very real sense of caution itching to take a holiday.

The peal of her phone broke into her thoughts and she reached for the device like a lifeline. A text message filled the face of the screen, and whatever calm she sought vanished.

Still thinking about you.

She couldn’t hold back the small smile that tinged her lips, or the fact that his thoughts so closely echoed her own. Without giving herself time to analyze, she shot back a quick text of her own.

I thought big-shot publishers knew better than to waste their time on stories that won’t pan out.

Okay, so as responses went that was about as sexy as a wet blanket, but she was curious to see how he’d respond. She didn’t have to wait long.

And really good publishers know how to bide their time, waiting for all the right pieces to fall into place.

That same flutter that had accompanied her throughout the day flared up once more and she couldn’t resist one last text.

Is this your veiled attempt to assure me how good you are?

His reply came back at warp-speed.

Actually, it’s an unveiled attempt to make you see how good we’d be together.

Although she’d ignored most of the articles McBride Media’s magazines had printed on the joys of sexting, Camryn had to admit the practice had merit. And when had she gotten so damn out of practice?

The thought flitted through her mind’s eye: when was the last time she’d enjoyed a man’s company for more than a businesslike evening? Although she hadn’t exactly been a candidate to become the fifth member of
Sex and the City
, she did date and she did enjoy male company. So why had it become all too easy to forgo that company on a regular basis?

And how had she let her life come to that?

Sure, she and her sisters had put a lot of time and effort into the restoration of McBride Media, but even she knew that wasn’t the whole story.

When had she become afraid of mess? And fuss? And life?

Booth’s text still lit up her screen, but Camryn flipped off the phone and tossed it aside. The hour’s worth of work she’d brought home wasn’t going to get done by itself.

For the first time in a long time, instead of pride welling in her chest at her determination, all she could muster was disappointment.

Chapter Three

“If I had legs like that, I sure as hell wouldn’t hide them behind a skirt that hung below the knee.”

Camryn wasn’t sure if she should be offended or charmed by the frank assessment, so she simply watched Sinclair with a mixture of shock and awe as he dived back into her closet. “Sinclair.” She summoned up her “address the board” voice. “I’m the CFO of a major company. I don’t need to dress like a runway model.”

“You don’t need to dress like a school principal, either,” Sinclair shot back from the depths of her closet.

“There is nothing in that closet that screams schoolmarm. Everything is classy, elegant, and timeless. Besides, people won’t respect me if I’m dressed flashy.”

Camryn thought she heard the distinct notes of a loud snort before Sinclair’s tone changed with an abrupt shriek. “Oo la la!” He hollered from the back of her closet, emerging with two pairs of heels in his hands. “Now
this
is what I’m talking about. These are beautiful.”

Camryn couldn’t hold back the smile. She did love her shoes. They were the one indulgence she allowed herself in a sea of black, gray, and navy suits. “They’re definitely works of art.”

“How many pairs of these do you have?”

“A few.” Camryn mumbled the response as she glanced down at her phone, then looked up again. She normally saved the red-soled beauties for special occasions—large meetings, business dinners, and significant events out and about—and avoided the expensive display during her normal workdays.

One carefully arched eyebrow rose as Sinclair dangled the two pairs from the tips of each hand. “Define a few.”

“Ten. Maybe fifteen.”

“Well, which is it?”

“Twenty.”

“Oh, girl. We have some work to do.”

“Work?” Camryn coughed to clear the squeak that gripped her vocal cords. “What work?”

“These shoes are works of art, but
you’re
the main attraction. We’re going to use these as a base and build your look for the conference around them.”

“I don’t need a new look.”

The lone eyebrow rose again. “Yes, you do.”

“I’m speaking to a group of professionals who work for the
Financial Journal
. Not a bunch of readers of the latest gossip rag.”

“You’re our keynote in Hawaii and you’ll also be featured on several web videos that I’m including as part of the conference events. I’m also posting them online in the
FJ
’s business leaders section of the website.”

“None of those things require me to dress like a fashion plate. Now, I appreciate your visit but I have to get to work.”

“This
is
work. You and your sisters have put blood, sweat, and tears into making McBride Media one of the golden jewels of the New York ad community. It’s time to look the part.”

While the urge to keep debating with him was strong, Camryn couldn’t resist probing underneath his words. “I’ve always thought women have to work harder in business. Need to show they’re as competent. I spend much of my time with financial types who are evaluating whether or not I’ve made a strong proposal in exchange for their money.”

“And I’m sure you do it well.” His hands fell to his sides, the shoes dangling. “But your wardrobe shouldn’t be restrictive or the real you won’t shine through.”

“The real me knows businessmen like black.”

“And the real you also does more than live in a boardroom.” Sinclair lifted one of her shoes once more, turning it over to point out the designer on the sole. “The woman who loves these shoes and what they mean has some zing inside of her.”

“And you’re going to pull it out?”

“Consider me your very own personal Henry Higgins.”

The retort sprang to her lips on a giggle. “You’re looking to seduce me?”

His bark of laughter was immediate. “Will I break the bonds of confidence to tell you I only watched
My Fair Lady
for the songs?”

She leaned in and grabbed one of the shoes, running her hands over the supple leather. “So long as you don’t make me wear some crazy hat.”

“Promise.”

Her phone buzzed.
Excellent.
She’d bury herself in work while Sinclair finished up his
tsking
over her bland wardrobe.

Work was the one place, other than time spent with her sisters, where she felt truly comfortable. In control. And she’d given up more than enough of her morning to an exercise that wouldn’t change who she was at heart. A quiet woman with a hyperactive mind, a love of spreadsheets, and social skills that needed a bit of work outside the boardroom.

It was a description she’d dragged on like an overcoat when her late-night text messages had happened with Booth a few weeks before. After another sleepless night and a missed deadline to file for a set of tax exemptions on one of their printing presses, she’d put her hormones on hold. She couldn’t afford to lose focus. So when he’d texted again, she’d put him off with the promise they’d catch up in Hawaii. Which was now only a few days away.

Sinclair pointed toward her phone, his right eyebrow firmly arched toward his forehead. “Saved by the bell. Go answer it and then we’ll finish up when you’re done.”

“I know you’ve got this under control. Keep doing what you’re doing.” She turned and headed for her small home office, thrilled to make her escape.

…

Booth read the brief e-mail and couldn’t hold back the smile.

Cinderella’s gorgeous underneath all that black, brown, and gray. Just need to work my magic and she’ll be ready for the sales conference.

He knew damn well that Camryn was gorgeous and also knew Sinclair was far more enamored of his frustrating subject than he let on. None of which changed the fact that the woman had “infuriating” down to a science. For a woman who had spent the last decade executing financial strategies that would make a Nobel Prize–winning economist weep, she was damned frustrating when it came to her own life. And Booth was paying the price.

Pocketing his phone, Booth walked up to the doorman of Camryn’s prewar apartment building. “I’m here to see Camryn McBride.”

The grizzled man’s eyes widened slightly but other than that small tell, his face was a mask of indifference. “Is Ms. McBride expecting you?”

“No, but there’s a member of my team already with her for a meeting. I’m joining them.”

The impassive facade never wavered, but the answer clearly satisfied him enough to lift the phone at his station. “Your name, sir?”

“Booth Harrison.”

“One moment.”

Booth stepped back in the illusion of courtesy, but he knew exactly how the whispered conversation would go. And he knew he was close to victory when the doorman’s head nodded slightly.

“You may go up, sir. Apartment 14D.”

“Thanks.” Booth nodded but held his smile until the elevator doors closed behind him. It was time to up the stakes.

His smile faded a few minutes later as Camryn stood on the other side of her open door. “What are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to talk to your travel buddy?”

“Let me amend that.” Heat crept up her neck. “Booth. It’s lovely to see you at two o’clock in the afternoon. On a Tuesday. What brings you to my home instead of your standard Tuesday afternoon appointment to take over the world?”

“I just report on the folks taking over the world.”

“Oh, don’t use that ‘aw shucks Clark Kent’ spiel on me. I know better. World domination is definitely in your plans if that recent rumor about your interest in joining Nathan in his hotel line is any indication.”

“Since I suspect you heard it from Keira and Nathan, it’s hardly a rumor.”

“She mentioned it at dinner the other night.”

Booth was secretly pleased she’d kept tabs on him, even if it was just about his business interests. “May I come in?”

She stepped back. “Since you’re here.”

Undeterred, he moved into the hallway and saw several rooms shooting off the main stretch of hardwood. “How’s everything going with Sinclair?”

“Is that why you’re here?” Camryn turned away from the door, her hands finding their way to her hips. “To spy on me?”

“I was actually concerned I’d get here to find you trying to figure out where to hide the body.”

“Sinclair’s lovely.”

“He’s a pit bull. Which is why he’s outstanding at what he does, but ‘lovely’ is hardly an apt descriptor.”

“I left him about a half hour ago so I could get some work done. He was hunting through the back of my closet the last I checked.” Booth didn’t miss the irritation in her eyes. “This is a waste of time, you know that. I’ve got a perfectly appropriate wardrobe and all I’m doing is giving a speech, not participating in a modeling shoot.”

Booth had no problem with her clothing—her prim and proper business suits had been making him hot for the better part of a year—but he felt honor-bound to give Sinclair his due. “He’s got a vision for the sales meeting. Surely you can’t deny the man his vision?”

“He’s obsessed with my shoes.”

Booth couldn’t resist making a show of staring at her legs. “I can’t say I blame him.”

“You’re an odd man.” A mischievous light hit her dark eyes. “A determined one, but odd all the same.”

Determined wasn’t even the half of it.

He’d been counting the days until they could get out of town and resume their exploration of something private together. “Determination leads to action. But putting that aside, I’m a red-blooded American male who can appreciate a woman’s legs when she wears heels. Add on the fact that we’re headed to Hawaii and it gives you natural permission to let your hair down.”

With one last bemused shake of her head, Camryn lead him to a small bedroom outfitted as her home office. Her thin, sleek laptop was open on a small writing desk, a notepad by its side. A stack of folders, all neatly ordered, sat on the edge of the desk. Other than those few items, nothing was out of place. Instead, the room held a quiet grace that had her subtle style stamped across every inch of it.

“So if you’re not here to spy on me or seduce me, why are you here?”

His thoughts momentarily fumbled at the word seduce, but he forced himself to keep it together. “I’ve got a business proposition for you.”

Her gaze sharpened with interest as she gestured him to the couch. “Oh?”

“I’ve secured a business meeting Friday in San Francisco with a team of Asian investors. They’re interested in expanding their business interests and would be more than open to meeting with multiple media companies on their visit to the States. I think they’re contacts you’d like to have and I’d like you to join me.”

“I can hardly say no.”

“I know.” Booth knew the opportunity to meet such a lucrative media team from overseas would entice her to join him. And regardless of the interest brewing between them, he knew Camryn was an incredible asset to take to the meeting. The time together was simply an added benefit.

“I’ve got the jet ready to depart first thing Friday morning. Can you juggle your day to join me?”

A distinct haze of cursing floated from the depths of the apartment and Camryn turned toward it with a wry eye. “If you can persuade Sinclair to speed it up, then yes, I can make it work.”

The cursing got louder as the man in question made his way toward the office. “Oh. Booth. You’re here.”

“What’s wrong?” Camryn stood up. “Did something happen?”

“Other than the fact I may go into a month long depression at the sea of drab colors in your closet?”

Booth didn’t miss the grimace or the embarrassed blush that crept up her neck. “I’ve told you. I like what’s in my closet.”

“Yes, well, we’ve got to go shopping. I’ve got us an appointment at Armani in less than an hour.”

“If you’d looked at any of those professional colors, you would have noticed that I’ve got several beautiful pieces of Armani in the always-efficient and fashionable black.”

“You’re headed to Hawaii. Black doesn’t work in Hawaii.”

“So you’ve told me.” Camryn’s tone was dry as day-old toast. “Regardless. Why do we need to go anywhere? We’ve got plenty of Armani in the fashion closet over at McBride. We’ve also got Gucci, Carolina Herrera, and about every other designer you can name.”

Sinclair’s eyes lit up with a degree of avarice Booth hadn’t even seen at the high-limit tables in Vegas. “What are we waiting for?”

Camryn shot him a helpless look and Booth couldn’t hold back the grin. “Well, clearly you’re in very capable hands. And since you’ve found a way to streamline the afternoon, I’ll plan on seeing you Friday morning. The car will pick you up at six.”

“Do I need to prepare anything for the meeting?”

“Is there any figure on your business or the industry you can’t quote from memory?”

“No.”

“Then just bring yourself.”

“Your newly clad self,” Sinclair added for good measure.

Camryn shot the small man a dirty look before crossing the room. “Booth. I’ll see you out.”

He followed her down the hall, unable to see a single problem with the trim black skirt that framed her heart-shaped ass to perfection.

When they got to the front door, she turned toward him. “Thanks again for the opportunity to join you.”

“It’s my pleasure. And look, I’m sorry about Sinclair.”

“I’m not quite sure why he’s taken such an interest in me.”

“His heart’s in the right place. Consider him a necessary evil.”

She laughed at that, a deep, rich sound that grabbed him by the balls and hung on tight.

Damn, but she was sexy. He knew this attraction was madness but God help him he couldn’t quite shake the desire to spend time with her.

So instead, he leaned forward and took the opportunity to kiss her on the cheek, lingering over the moment before he dropped his voice to a husky whisper. “I’ll see you Friday. Don’t beat up Sinclair too badly.”

Her eyes clouded with confusion as he pulled back and stepped through the door, and Booth counted the moment a personal victory. Especially when he took in the small line that furrowed itself between her slender dark eyebrows.

Just as he was about to break his arm with the self-congratulations, a broad smile spread across her face, tinged with clearly wicked overtones. “I’ll be gentle. Unless he decides to pick out my underwear.”