Working It (11 page)

He looked at her, his eyes like arctic pools, a light teal blue. “I'm not nervous. Why? Do I look nervous?”

She fought not to roll her eyes. “No. You look fantastic.”

As she said it, she realized she wasn't lying—he really did look good. Not his usual “casual chic,” she thought with satisfaction. He was wearing khakis with a light cream denim shirt, only this time he'd added a blazer and a subtly striped tie. He'd also given all his clothes a pass with the iron, she noted. It might seem silly and girlish, and he'd protested, but looks really did make a difference.

He turned and headed for the conference room. The guy had great shoulders. And let's face it…although it
was partially hidden by the blazer, the guy had a nice ass. She grinned, thinking,
I hate to see you go…but I love to watch you leave.

She abruptly caught herself, sobered. It had been hard not to think of him in those terms. She'd always considered him attractive, that was a no-brainer. Scratch that. She'd considered him sexy enough to make her breathless. Still, there was a big difference between window-shopping and actually buying something. She had admired only—there was a line in the sand that prevented her from doing anything else.

Then she'd been stupid enough to kiss the guy, and her common sense? That had flown right out the proverbial window. She'd gone from window-shopping to…well, she figured it was more like a test drive. She hadn't actually
bought
anything, as it were.

Not yet. And considering he was her client, she reminded herself sternly, not
ever.

She settled herself at the small conference room table. He hadn't hired her to admire his ass and kiss him on darkened basketball courts. He'd signed on with Michaels & Associates because they were the best, and they would help his company. Rather, he'd agreed to let
her
honor the contract with Robson Steel, because he thought
she
would help his company.

Now was her chance to see if her coaching would help, or if she'd have to try something else. And they were both running out of time to try other options.

Drew sat. His face was calm, even if the slight jitters of his hand fidgeting with his gold pen betrayed some of the nerves beneath the facade. “I was hoping we could start with a dialogue,” he said, just as she'd taught him.

Let them do most of the talking,
she thought, en
couraging him with her eyes. He nodded, as if he heard her mental missive and was acknowledging it.

“Why don't you tell me how your relationship with my company has been going so far? What's made you happy, what could use work?”

Jackie looked at her husband, Frank. Frank started talking, using his work-worn hands to gesture. “We like what you've been able to provide for us…we get our stuff, on time. Still, we feel like little fish in a big pond. You're the first head honcho to come out our way in a long time. Usually we get junior salespeople who don't know a thing, trying to sell us stuff we don't need.”

“I hate that,” Drew said, and the sincerity was obvious.

“Yeah, well, so do we,” Frank said, and proceeded at length to go into detail about the parts he needed. Then Jackie tagged in with some observations about the service or lack thereof they'd received from Robson Steel.

“Wow.” Drew frowned. “I didn't know this was going on.”

Jade winced. She never would've admitted something like that to a customer. At least, not that way. He sounded so…so
hick.
She tried to will him to look at her, but he only had eyes for the two Augustines.

Which is how it should be,
she thought. Still, she was there as his coach. He ought to at least be paying attention to some of her cues!

She was quickly starting to feel out of place at the meeting. Drew took off his blazer and slung it along the back of his chair. He also rolled up his sleeves and tugged his tie looser, until it hung from him like a slack rope. He looked like a private school kid, just out of
school. His face was furrowed in concentration as he stared at the diagrams that Frank had pulled out over his wife's objections.

“Well, you shouldn't be paying this much for parts, is some of the problem,” Drew said, and Jade quailed.

He's screwing this up. Oh, man, is he screwing this up.
He was telling them to reduce their order, to start. And now he was pointing out every place his salespeople had ripped them off, and how the reason their orders were late was because they weren't told the right dates to begin with.

This was going horribly, horribly wrong.

“Um, Drew?” She motioned to him. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

He had been deep in thought, and he looked up at her. “Can't it wait? I think we're really getting to the bottom of this here.”

She shrugged. “You're the client,” she mouthed.

He smiled. “Trust me,” he mouthed back, when the Augustines weren't looking.

She felt a little shiver go through her. Trust him? She was in enough trouble with her attraction. If she added trust to the mix, where would she be?

After an hour, they paused to take a break. Jackie went to get some sodas, and Frank left to grab a few more notes. “What are you doing?” Jade snapped.

Drew blinked at her. “What do you mean, what am I doing?”

“You're not selling to these people, you're basically doing a character assassination on your own company!”

He frowned. “You said to acknowledge and accept their problems with Robson,” he said in a patient voice.

“Acknowledge, yes!” She felt like strangling him. “Point out even more flaws, no!”

“Well, it's not working for them,” he argued. “They never should've gotten a deal like this. I think the salesperson working with them was out of his mind. And I'm not going to lie to them.”

“I'm not asking you to…”

“Jade,” he said firmly, touching her chin with his fingertips and angling her face up to his, “I'm not going to do anything I don't feel right about. They're a smaller company, and they're struggling. I want to save Robson, sure. But I'm not going to take prisoners to do it, so don't ask me to.”

She fell silent, mesmerized by both the heat of his fingertips and the heat of his conviction. He released her face, and Frank walked in.

“Here it is,” Frank said. “Do you really think we could streamline the way we get parts?”

“Sure,” Drew said, turning away from Jade. And she watched him hunker down with the Augustines.

If I'm not careful, I could be in real trouble here.

Jade hadn't met anybody like Drew, especially not in Los Angeles or in her line of work. He had scruples. He believed in helping people. She was here for a promotion.

But didn't you take this on because you believed in Robson Steel?

No, she thought suddenly. She'd taken it on because she believed in him.

She needed to get a little distance. They'd been on the road for…what, two weeks? That was plenty of time to lose perspective. Maybe she'd tell him that she needed to work on her own stuff tonight. Working with him, driving with him, spending every meal with him
was enough to make anybody a little loopy. And when you were spending almost twenty-four hours a day with a guy like Drew Robson, who had enough sexual magnetism to cause fainting spells in a five-mile radius, well…a girl was likely to start thinking things she shouldn't.

She wasn't just any faint-hearted girl, though.

She focused on the conversation. Jackie was obviously bowled over by Drew, as well, although the looks she was sending him were mostly of overwhelming gratitude. Jade felt a little better—and a little guilty, for thinking he was on the wrong path.

“You really care,” Jackie said, her voice a little choked up around the edges. “You're not like those other guys.”

“Believe me,” Jade said. “He's not like any other guy I know.”

Drew looked over at her, and smiled…one of those mind-bending smiles.

“Well, I was going to kick you out of here, Drew. We've done some research from some other plants, who offered better prices. But from what you've gone through with us, I can see you really know what you're talking about.”

“I appreciate that, Frank,” Drew said. “I'm just sorry it took us this long to straighten things out.”

“We're going to continue working with you, based on what we talked about today. That does mean a smaller part order and a change in the process.”

“That's fine,” Drew said. And Jade felt a strong stab of pride. He really meant it. It really was fine…because it was better for the Augustines.

“I will say this, though,” Frank said, standing and shaking Drew's hand. “I'm going to tell all of my other
suppliers, and some of my friends, about you and your plant. I thought guys like you went the way of the dodo.”

Drew laughed. Jade just smiled. She'd thought decent guys were extinct, too.
Who knew?

After wrapping up the meeting, Drew walked with Jade out to the car, taking his tie off and stuffing it in his pocket. “That was better than I thought it would be.”

“You were great, ace,” she said, then stopped him. “So. How does it feel to land your first sale?”

His eyes widened. “That's right. I really did nail that one on my own, didn't I?”

She laughed. “Yup. All by your lonesome.”

“I wasn't even thinking of it as landing a sale. I just thought about it as fixing a problem,” he said. She grinned at the tone of wonder in his voice. Then, before she knew what he was going to do, he swept her up, spinning her as though she were a rag doll.

“Whoa!”

“Yes!” His voice rang out in the parking lot. “Damn! That was easy!”

“Yeah, well, it's not going to be all downhill from here—”

“Have dinner with me.”

She stopped, in the middle of her advice. “Sorry. What?”

“Have dinner with me,” he coaxed. His eyes glowed and his hands were still resting lightly on her hips. She ought to tell him to stop, but her mouth seemed to have numbed temporarily. “I want to celebrate. I feel like I owe you at least dinner for helping me get to the point where a sales call wasn't like a dentist's appointment.”

“Really, y-you don't owe me anything,” she stammered, thinking,
His hands, broad-palmed, long-fingered hands are on my hips…
She shook her head a few times to clear it. “Just doing my job, you know?”

He leaned down until he was eye level with her, and damn if he didn't take his hands away. “Please?”

She was hypnotized by his proximity. She could feel the heat of him and all she could think of was the dark, just a few nights before…of his mouth on hers, her lifting up to meet him, the strength of his arms around her, the heat of him in the coolness of the evening air…

“I really… I…” She cleared her throat. “Oh, all right. Let's celebrate.”

His smile was like a blowtorch, hot and blinding. “All right. I'll take you back to the hotel to get cleaned up, and then we'll go paint the town. Such as it is.”

She nodded, smiling back, but when he released her she almost slumped over, to her intense embarrassment.

Gorgeous guys, she could deal with. Gorgeous, honest, decent guys…well, they were a little more of a challenge.

Guys like Drew?

She watched as he winked at her before getting into the car.

She was in trouble tonight. She had never been this tempted by a client before. And this time, she had the serious suspicion that it wasn't just her body that was reacting.

D
REW WAS SITTING
at the bar of the hotel restaurant. It was a pretty nice restaurant, and it looked as if there was a sort of dance floor off to one side. He was waiting for Jade. He forced himself not to look at his watch.

He'd already taken a long, relatively cool shower, and he was on his second glass of wine…and he still felt like he could wrestle an alligator and win. Then, he'd probably move on to racing a speeding bullet, or pulling a locomotive, or something. He was jumped up on today's sale. Truth be told, he was riding high on more than that.

He looked up and saw Jade walking toward him. Even the way she strutted was sexy, her hips undulating gently, riveting the gaze of every guy in viewing distance. Her hair was up in a loose knot-thing on top of her head, and curls were framing her face. And her face—oh, baby.
Don't even get me started.

She was sexy, sensual, beautiful.

Then she smiled at him and that comic-book-hero feeling rushed through him in a wave.

There is nothing sexier than a woman who believes in you.

He stood, holding out a hand to her because it felt natural to do so. She stared at it for a second, then put her hand in his…almost shyly, which he thought was cute.

“You look fantastic,” he said in a low voice. He wanted to kiss her. Still, this was supposed to be business—although he was hoping that he could convince her to make it a little more than that.

A lot more than that.

“Thanks,” she said, her full lips curving into that sexy half smirk. “You clean up pretty well, yourself.”

He gave her hand a friendly squeeze, then let go.
Go slow, don't rush her.
He wanted her, that much was obvious. They wanted
each other.

Sales fact number 1. You've got to work with what the customer wants, then show how you can accommodate that.

She was the one who taught him, he thought, as the hostess led them to their table. It was only fitting that he use the knowledge she'd imparted to win her over. In the long run, he imagined she'd appreciate the irony.

They sat. She was attracting appreciative glances, he knew that. And although part of him really wanted to glare at the other guys, part of him just basked in the fact that even though she was being ogled, her attention was firmly fixed on him.

“Today was great,” she said, her expressive eyes filled with appreciation. “I've mentioned that, haven't I?”

“It's always good to hear,” he said. “And I had a good coach.”

“No, you had a
great
coach,” she said, then laughed. “Sometimes my immodesty amazes even myself.”

“It's not immodesty when it's true,” Drew said, loving the throaty sound of her laugh. “Look at me. Before you, I was wearing T-shirts and begging for deals. After you, I'm landing big deals in a tie.” He waited
a beat. “And having dinner with beautiful women to boot.”

“Yeah, well, when you're a successful salesman, you draw chicks like a magnet,” she said, her laughter a little more…nervous? He made her nervous. He got the feeling that was a good thing. She didn't strike him as the type of woman that was unnerved by most men.

“As much as drawing chicks has always been a secret goal of mine,” he joked, glad that she grinned at his comment, “I think the more important thing is, I'm that much closer to saving Robson Steel. And that's the most important thing in my life.”

“I know,” she said, her eyes shining, her tone much more serious.

“And you do have a huge part in that,” he said. He lifted his water glass to her. “To you, Jade Morrow. For being a personal, tough, badass guardian angel. A guy could not ask for more.”

She looked for a moment as though she was going to mist up—her eyes had the glassy sheen of tears that were kept in check. Then she blinked, hard, and forced a laugh.

“Keep it up and I'll start blushing,” she said, her voice uneven. “You did a lot of hard work, Drew. And if you didn't love your factory so much, we wouldn't be sitting here. So right back at you,” she replied, holding her own water glass up and toasting him. “To Drew Robson, the toughest client I've ever…”

She paused.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“The toughest client I've ever felt…I've ever
liked
this much,” she stammered a little, correcting herself. Then she quickly took a sip of water.

He sipped, as well, to quench the sudden heat that was pumping through him.

They downshifted to small talk, having the occasional heated exchange about whether or not the Raiders should have gone back to Oakland, or the various merits of small-town living versus big-city life. Still, every now and then, their toes would brush beneath the table, completely by accident. They'd both reach for the pepper shaker and he could feel the smooth silkiness of her skin underneath his fingertips before pulling his hand away, a quick caress. If asked later, he wouldn't really remember many details of what they talked about. He just liked listening to her, and watching her as she spoke, her hands gesticulating wildly, her expressive face adding a beautiful counterpoint to her arguments.

She was fantastic.

After having coffee, they got up to go. Going by the dance floor, he saw her look at the little jazz combo. She stopped for a second, swaying a little, smiling.

“I don't suppose you dance,” she said in a low enough voice that he wondered if it was a comment she'd meant him to hear.

“I don't dance, generally,” he said. Yet the idea—being close to her, having her in his arms with a valid, socially accepted excuse… “But if you don't mind your toes being mashed, and you don't mind leading…heck, I'm game.”

She laughed, her face lighting up. Then she shook her head. “Nah. It's no big deal. It's been a while since I danced, but—”

Her statement was interrupted by her squeak as he nudged her toward the dance floor. “Don't worry.
Dancing with me isn't what anybody would call recreational or even relaxing.”

She was still laughing until he tugged her closer to him, stroking his fingertips up the length of her bare arms until he rested her hands on his shoulders. Then he gently put his hands on her hips.

“Watch your feet, now,” he said. She only responded with the barest of smiles. He saw her pulse beat away in the delicate column of her throat.

He wondered when the last time he'd wanted anything as much as he wanted this woman.

The music picked up slightly in tempo, a sexy number, heavy on the saxophone. Smooth, rich music. She closed her eyes, swaying beneath his fingers. He clenched tightly before he could stop himself, then forced himself to relax. They moved in time with the music, too close to stop the attraction, not close enough to really give in to it.

She was staring into his eyes, and he swore he saw the same hunger he felt mirrored in her warm green gaze. Her hands stroked slightly over his shoulder. He was waiting for more…

She leaned forward, slightly, almost imperceptibly. He matched her, moving until his temple rested lightly against hers. Each breath enveloped him in her vanilla scent. She moved closer. He could feel her chest brush against him, maddening caresses. He wanted to pull her to him. He was getting hard just thinking about it, feeling her beneath the slick material of her dress, the way her hips moved…

She pulled away from him.

“I don't feel like dancing anymore,” she said in a small voice. He only barely caught it over the demanding beat of the music.

“Neither do I,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “Come on.”

The two walked off the dance floor. He put an arm around her shoulders. He wanted her. She wanted him. He could let it get complicated later. Now, he just wanted her naked, beneath him, on top of him, beside him.

I want her every way I can possibly get her.

She was silent as they walked through the restaurant, through the lobby, down the hallway that led to their neighboring rooms. His blood was pumping thickly through his veins. They didn't touch, but he was vibrantly aware of her closeness. When they got to her room, she stopped, a flash of nerves and passion crossing her face.

“I…” Her mouth worked a little, silent, as if she were framing words but unable to say them. She looked at him, baffled.

“I want to make love to you, Jade,” he said in a low voice.

“I know.” Her eyes were huge. “And I want you to, but…”

He didn't wait for her to finish her sentence. It would have logic, and a really strong argument, he felt sure. He just needed a kiss before she let things get rational. He leaned forward and covered her lips with his.

He'd kissed her before, so he was used to the rush of adrenaline just the brush of her satiny lips sent through him. But he had desire before he started, and he used every ounce of it to convey just how much he wanted her. His mouth parted hers, his tongue dipping in and caressing the fullness of her lips, tickling against the brushing of her tongue. She sank a little, and he leaned her against her hotel room door, working more
intently. One of his hands held her steady at the gentle swell of her hip, while the other traced up the smooth cloth of her dress, stroking her midriff.

She let out a little gasp, a muffled whimper. Then the Jade he knew acted, as he had hoped she would. Her tongue tangled with his as her fabulously mobile mouth ravaged his. Her hands stroked up his shoulders before her fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him closer to her.

Her hips arched forward, the thin fabric of her dress and of his slacks the only impediment to the burning of their bodies. He tore his mouth from hers when she moved her hips a little too intently, and he felt his erection surging against her, pushing hard.

“Room key,” he groaned, his breathing labored, before leaning down and nibbling at her neck lightly. He felt the breath of her corresponding moan against his earlobe.

“Hold on.” She fumbled with one hand, grabbed the card key, and got the door open. They slowly moved into the room, and she shut the door. It all felt surreal. She leaned up to him, her eyes staring at him warily even as her swollen lips beckoned him.

Slowly, he reached for her. He started with her hips, tugging her the few steps into the small room…leading her to the bed. She sat on the edge of it, and he sat next to her. Her breathing was shallow, and her pulse was dancing crazily in the vein in her throat. She leaned back, arching her back a little, her eyes blazing like beacons.

He needed no further invitation.

He stroked his hand against her dress, as he had in the hallway, but this time he didn't stop at her stomach. He moved slightly up, barely brushing against her
breasts, feeling the nipples beneath his palms hardening to pebbles. He then replaced his hands with his mouth, suckling through the fabric. She gasped, her hips arching. She held him to her, and he moved over her, one leg moving instinctively between hers.

She reached for his shirt, pulling it out of his waistband, her curious fingers moving to the skin of his stomach. He gasped a little as she smoothed her hands around to his back, pulling him to her. He was now clothed, but between her legs, cupped by warmth he could feel even with layers between. He kissed her languorously, pushing slightly, tortured by the closeness. She gasped, bucking against him.

He rolled away for a second, breathing hard. Slow. He wanted this to be slow. He wanted this to last.

She arched again…then pulled up the hem of her skirt, revealing a pair of high-cut lace panties. In dark green, contrasted by the thigh-high stockings in black. She still had her heels on.

He smiled, stroking the delicate skin of her thighs, delighting in her low moan as she closed her eyes, turning her head away from him. His fingers traced upward, with long, slow strokes, until he got to the edge of her panties. He moved the wisp of lingerie aside, the dark red curls soft beneath his fingertips. Jade's breathing was fast, and her legs parted imperceptibly. His erection tightened, almost painfully.

He dipped a finger in, feeling the damp heat of her. He stroked in, gently, feeling her erect clit beneath his index finger. She cried out, a tiny noise, and her hips swayed beneath him.

Then he dipped in deeper, and she gasped, her thighs clamping against his hand.

“I want this, Jade,” he said fiercely, leaning down
to kiss her thigh even as his hand started picking up speed. “I want you. All night. Every way I can get you. From now on.”

She paused, then her eyes flew open, and she stiffened against him. Gently, but firmly, she nudged him away. Then she rolled off the bed, standing, straightening her skirt.

“What?” he asked quickly, standing, as well. “What's wrong?”

Her hair was wild, tangled, and her lipstick was smudged. Her eyes were a smoldering green, warm with passion, and her skin was flushed.

“You have to ask?” Her tone was woeful. “I can't do this. We can't do this,” she corrected, her breathing still hitching. “I work with you. I work
for
you. We… I mean…” She made an incoherent gesture of helplessness with her hands. “Think about it.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. He'd known this was coming. But he'd wanted her too much to force himself to think about it.

She leaned forward. “If you were anybody else, there wouldn't be a question. But this is all too important. For both of us,” she reminded him.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart. “Nobody screws up, right?” It came out as a rasp.

She smiled awkwardly. “Not on my watch.”

And there it was. She was afraid of screwing this up. He didn't think it would affect anything, if they kept it simple—kept it to their own bottom line physical desire. But she was afraid they couldn't keep it simple enough to keep from ruining their goals.