Page 18 of My Office Rival (Keep Your Enemy Closer #2)
JASON
I had come way too close to crossing the line last night. I sat in my sad, little conference room and mentally kicked myself for letting the leash off my control. The diligence meeting due to start in just a few minutes would be torture.
I’d been avoiding her all morning, but I needed to apologize for growling at her last night, especially since we were about to go into a meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Harris, the Argan team and the auditors.
Typically, for a meeting about the financial statements, we’d be window dressing.
I’d have a mid-level associate join to lead the conversation, but not on this deal.
The auditors would be asking probing questions about cash movements, income, expenses, and long-term projects.
And I wanted to know more. Why the rush to get this deal done?
Why was the office so empty if they made so much money and had so many employees?
Why did the financial statements look off?
If I was going to learn anything, it would be today.
Steeling myself, I strode down the windowless hallway to Cynthia’s temporary office.
I straightened my navy suit before knocking.
“Enter,” I heard from behind the door. That’s not ominous at all .
Cynthia didn’t look up as I came in, intent on annotating something in what looked like the disclosures section of the financial statements. She looked stunning today, with a tight navy T-shirt that would soon be covered by her suit jacket, and a pen between her full lips.
“Come to bother me?” She looked up. “Oh, look, a shirt. That’s a first for you.”
I blinked stupidly at her and she started laughing. “You love making things hard for me, don’t you?” she asked
A flash of heat went through me. “There’s nothing better.”
Her eyes darkened and her tongue swept out to touch her bottom lip.
Fuck . I shifted from foot to foot. She had no idea how much she was turning me on.
Or maybe she did. Last night, she’d certainly seemed ready to play.
Ready to taunt me. The games were just as fun as the reward at the end. This is so bad.
“I, uh, just came to apologize for growling at you last night in the kitchen,” I stammered out.
“Is that what you did?” She raised a brow and tapped her pen against her mouth.
“You call that a growl? I’d call it more of a groan.
” She stood and circled her desk. Too close.
Too close. Oh, no. Had she heard me last night?
When I had stroked myself to thoughts of her letting me lift up her T-shirt and bend her over the counter?
This had to stop. We were going to be friends, colleagues, nothing more.
“What’s the difference?” I asked. The sight of her perfect body in that tight shirt would be my undoing. Desire filled my head like cotton wool. I took a deep breath to clear it, but her scent filled my nose.
“A growl is more animalistic. A groan, well… I could demonstrate. If you want.”
Would she? Why had I started this competition again? I was in over my head. I’d thought she could give as good as she got, but no, she gave better.
“Oh, Jason.” She moaned the words. “Fuck, yes.” The last word came out slightly guttural, and I stiffened. I wanted to slam her against the wall, take her mouth, sink into her. And isn’t that exactly what she wants you to think about? Instead of how to beat her?
“We have to stop doing this,” I ground out .
“Doing what?” Her eyes were all wide innocence.
“Stop messing with me.”
One side of her mouth tilted up triumphantly. “Can’t handle the heat? I think you told me that you play to win.” She stepped toward me and my breaths seized. “Well, I do too.”
One heartbeat, maybe two, and I thought she might kiss me. But she turned on her heel and grabbed her materials.
“All right, let’s get this shit over with.”
She met my eyes and I could see her settling into her hard-ass, client-facing persona.
“And we need to talk later. There are some inconsistencies in this diligence package, and I’m going to need more information.
Your client has an insane number of offshore entities.
And those are just the ones they included in the package they produced.
None of them appear in the audit. Why does a mom-and-pop grocery chain need fourteen Bermuda subsidiaries? ”
This was exactly what I had feared she would find. Something was not aboveboard with Mr. and Mrs. Harris, and I needed to find out what it was before Cynthia did, or she could blow this whole deal up.
I took the page from her and scanned it, keeping my face blank. I was all mixed up. Half-hard under my suit pants. Nervous at what she might find. Utterly adrift. Get it together, man. “I have no idea. I didn’t notice that the first time around.”
She frowned. “If the auditors don’t ask about it, then I’m going to. They could be hiding assets from the US government, or running other businesses through those shell companies.”
I kept my face blank and handed her back the paper. “Sure. Fine by me. I’m sure there’s a good reason.” Shit.