The C.e.o. and The Secret Heiress

That really came out of nowhere. “What?”

The suggestion of a frown tugged a fine line between her eyes. “You’re calling him a hoodlum, but you don’t know why that door was open or why he was here. You also know that he thought you were the hoodlum, and he thought he was protecting me from…” Those green eyes skimmed over him. “…a huge man dressed all in black sneaking around in the dark.”

“The light switch didn’t work, and I wasn’t sneaking anywhere.” He stopped, wondering why he was the one justifying his actions in this situation. “The boy’s the problem, a problem waiting to happen and we probably won’t have to wait much longer.”

“There you go again. You don’t even know him.”

He had to admit that she was good at keeping him on the defensive. “Well, he didn’t come back, no matter how much you trusted he would. And I’ve seen that type before, the way I’ve seen too many Brittany Lewis types.”

Those green eyes narrowed. “Oh, so you know Brittany Lewis that well, do you?”

“No, and I don’t want to,” he admitted with a grimace. “But I know the type.”

She shook her head as if she was exasperated with him. “That’s a really bad habit you have there, Mr. Terrel.”

“It’s Matt, and what are you talking about?”

“Okay, Matt. You’re forming opinions, no, making judgments, without knowing all the facts.”

They’d started as adversaries when she’d attacked him, and it just kept going. “That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it?” he asked, moving a bit closer to her.

He was used to people reacting to his size and presence. It was a given that he was intimidating, but she didn’t back down as he got closer. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t know me. You don’t know how I do things, how I form opinions. But you’ve got your opinion of me and you’re passing judgment on me. So, answer me this, who’s worse, you or me?”

“The question is, who’s wrong, you or me?” she countered without missing a beat.

“You, definitely you. You’re wrong, dead wrong about me.”

“So, you can’t admit to being wrong, either.”

He had always liked a skirmish, and this was starting to intrigue him. The first time she’d ended up under him. Not a bad start, and he wondered how this would end. “Oh, and you can admit to being wrong?” he asked, not bothering to stop the smile that was starting to grow at this exchange.

She stared at him hard, then turned away. For a moment he felt disappointed that she was going to give up after all, that he’d read her wrong. But she made a pretext of looking at the ridiculous tree and spoke in a low voice. “Of course I can admit I’m wrong, if or when I’m wrong,” she said in an even voice. Then she turned and there was something in her expression, and it had nothing to do with humor. She thought she was going in for the kill. “Which, of course, isn’t that often.”

He shook his head slowly as he went close enough to her to see that her lashes were incredibly lush, and her lips were their natural color, owing nothing to any lipstick. Damn it, this was getting to be fun. That was something he hadn’t even considered with a woman before. Sex, conversation, even possibly mutual interests. But fun? That was a new thing for him, and he found it very endearing. “Oh, I get it. This is an aberration, you being wrong?”

“No, it’s not, because I’m not. And that being said, I’ve only got until tomorrow to get my ideas down for Mrs. Blake and nail this job. I just wish…”

Her voice trailed off, and he found himself interested in what she would wish for. “So, you’re a person who wishes? The next thing I know, you’ll say you believe in Santa Claus.”

“And you don’t.” It was a statement, not a question. “That’s too bad.”

“It’s not smart to sit around waiting for someone to drop presents in your lap,” he muttered, annoyed that her words had made him sound like Scrooge. “So, what were you wishing for?”

“More time with Mrs. Blake. I have such a vague idea of this place, and I want to get this job.”

“Amy’s easy, don’t worry. And it has to go by me, anyway.”

She tilted her head slightly to one side and those lashes lowered a fraction of an inch as she studied him for a long moment. “And you must have a full working knowledge of this place, what it’s going to be, what the vision is for it?”

He didn’t know where she was going, but he went along willingly. “I don’t know if I’d get visionary. Imagination isn’t my strong suit, but I’ve seen all the projections, the ideas and their budget.”

She came a bit closer, and he could feel whatever control he’d thought he’d had in this encounter evaporating. She was less than two feet from him, bringing with her a soft fragrance that he remembered from their collision, a subtly seductive fragrance that he could almost name. Almost. But not quite. “Okay, you have this knowledge about the day-care center, and I don’t know much, except it’s for the kids.”

He waited, feeling something coming, knowing it was coming, but not about to ask her for a map. He knew on some level that if he asked her directly, she’d gain even more control. So, he just waited.

Finally she spoke and upset his balance again. “Do you have a car here?”

He nodded, waiting.

“Do you drive?”

“Since I was twelve.”

At least that took her back a bit, her green eyes widening slightly. “What?”

“I took a car for a joyride when I was twelve, went ten miles before I was stopped. That was the beginning of my life of crime.”

He had no idea why he’d just said what he said. It was the truth, but it wasn’t something he ever told anyone about. Not even Zane. But before he could backtrack, he was faced with her smile, an expression that quite literally lit up the world at that moment. It was all he could do to concentrate on what she was saying now. “Oh, sure, and I just bet you did time in Sing-Sing, too.”

God, she was beautiful when she smiled, and that angered him just a bit. He was very happy for women to exist on the fringes of his world. That was comfortable for him, and nonintrusive. He’d never welcomed distractions, especially not with a possible employee, and he really did have a lot of work to do. He still had control. And that control was the fact that he could walk away whenever he wanted. He spoke quickly, looking at his watch as an excuse not to look at B.J. for a moment. “No, I missed Sing-Sing on the tour, but I really am running late. My timetable’s shot to hell.”

“The car?”

He looked back at her, the smile was gone, but its shadow lingered in her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“The car. Your car?”

“I told you I have a car, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, I don’t have a car. I took a taxi to get here, and I’m short on time, and I need to know more about this place.” She hesitated. “So, simply put, the solution is for you to give me a ride, and we can talk on the way.”

He knew that if he drove away from here with her, nothing would be simple. “I don’t know.” He hesitated. “I don’t even know where you live.”

“Where do you live?” she countered.

“Do you ever answer a question directly?”

“I like to get all the facts before I speak,” she said, that smile playing around her lips again.

“Okay,” he murmured. “I live in a loft in a converted warehouse near the industrial district. I’ve barely moved in, but it’s got lots of space.”

“Well, that was more information than I needed,” she said. “I just wanted to know what area of the city you lived in. South, north, in the middle, east or west?”

“Okay, to be exact, west of the middle of the city in the area that they’re trying to redevelop. Now, where do you live?”

“Around that area.”