Scandal In The Boardroom: His by Design / The CEO's Accidental Bride / Secret Baby, Public Affair

“I’ve got a list here from Mrs. Creighton, and—”

His laughter echoed through the room, the sound truly amused rather than the nasty version she’d heard in Vivian’s office. He paused in his imaginary trek to catch his breath and clutched his chest in mock astonishment. “Surely you jest. I don’t think so, sweetheart. We’ll be doing this my way.”

Well, that’s reassuring. Ziara had a feeling she was about to get a lesson in all things Sloan—and it would turn everything she’d planned for on its ear. She pulled out her handy-dandy tablet to take notes, since that seemed to be her only function here.

“We’ll need new ideas, new designs, definitely a new designer,” he said, his voice so matter-of-fact that she blinked for a moment, unable to handle the transition from sexy hunk to demanding boss that quickly. But she managed to pull herself together.

Then his words truly registered. Yikes! A new designer definitely would not go over well.

Sloan continued. “Something splashy. Something to draw in big buyers, get people talking, get them curious...”

He dropped into the chair behind his desk. “Presenting the line, one buyer at a time in the studio, is standard fare. We need a fireworks show, not a firecracker...I’ve got it!” Sloan jerked to his feet, palms slapping on his desk with enough force to startle her. “We’ll bring fashion week right here to Atlanta, Georgia. We’ll put on a fashion show.” He started to pace, throwing ideas out with such enthusiasm that she found herself pulled into the spirit without even realizing it. Before she knew it, he had location ideas, preshow party ideas, guest list suggestions, and on and on until he ran out of steam about an hour later.

Ziara’s fingers ached from typing so fast; even she had to concede to Sloan’s intelligence. Once he latched onto an idea, he thought through every angle—catch, plus and minus. Very impressive. If he truly had plans to destroy Eternity Designs, he was going about it the wrong way.

Glancing up in the sudden silence, she found Sloan staring directly at her. She should have been alarmed, afraid of what he might see, but she had sunk so deeply under the spell of his voice that she merely floated.

His eyes widened at whatever he saw in her own, then flashed with a heat that echoed deep inside her core. The connection remained taut for long moments as the heat gained momentum like a house afire.

Only when it threatened to burst out of control did Ziara panic. She bent her head to focus on the tablet still sitting in her lap. Though she felt hot enough for her fingers to burn it, the tablet was miraculously unsinged.

A new kind of heat enveloped her—embarrassment. As Sloan approached, her teeth worried her lower lip. Would he say something? Think she’d changed her mind about him? Think that she was silently asking him to come on to her? With her limited experience, she wasn’t even sure what kind of message she’d just sent. As her imagination picked up speed, Sloan paused a few steps away.

Then he continued around his desk and sat with a squeak of leather. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his elbows settle onto the arms of the chair as if familiar with the pose, his fingers forming a peak with his fingertips. Relief swept through her, a cooling breeze, though it couldn’t extinguish the fire altogether. She chose to ignore it.

“So we’ll be putting on a fall fashion show this year. You’ll need to book the venue and start construction on the backdrop. Some plans can’t be finalized until closer to the actual date, but pick out invitations, contact the modeling agency so we can line up models, all that stuff.”

He leaned forward, his gaze seeing into the distance. “My focus will be on finding the right designer to carry out my ideas.”

That was a discussion she’d prefer to postpone for, oh, forever. A new designer would shake the foundations of Eternity, regardless of how wonderful he was.

“And what would those ideas be?” she asked, poised to type. How was she going to tell Vivian all of this? Ziara was excited by some of the plans, but change was definitely not Vivian’s forte.

Sloan grinned, resorting to his ample sex appeal in the blink of an eye. “Uh-uh. I’m not giving it up that easily.”

Their eyes met and held. In the aftermath of their earlier connection, his bright blue gaze unnerved her more than ever. Not only did it threaten her internal control, it made her want to clamp the top of her jacket closed to hide every hint of cleavage. She pressed her thighs together in a purely feminine gesture of defense.

Slowly he rose and circled the desk, leaning his hips against the front. The angle allowed him to tower over her, while inadvertently giving her a level view of—

No, she wouldn’t look. Her fight-or-flight instincts kicked in with a rush. She needed a few moments away from this man’s disturbing sensuality. Heck, a few hours would be better. Rising to her feet, she said, “If that’s all, I’ll start—”

“Ziara.”

Her fingers fiddled with her tablet while her gaze examined the polished floorboards.

“I expect hard work out of all my employees. I don’t think that will be a problem with you. But trust...trust has to be earned, doesn’t it?”

The guilt burned deep inside, because she knew she’d have to tell what she’d learned to Vivian—sooner rather than later. But it was her strong work ethic that just might tear her in two. Her dedication demanded she do what was right for Eternity Designs; her loyalty demanded she do anything Vivian asked of her.

“Though hiring and firing is Vivian’s department for now,” he continued, his voice deceptively benign, “be aware you wouldn’t be in this office if I didn’t want you to be.” He stopped an arm’s length from her, bringing the icy heat of his gaze closer, stinging her conscience. “You have your own reasons for being loyal to Vivian.”

She heard the implied question behind his statement. She swallowed, the urge to speak unnerving. How could she describe all Vivian had done for her, the hands-on coaching and molding of her abilities? She opted for short and sweet.

“Vivian saw my willingness to do a job right, even as a simple secretary. To uphold the ideals of this company.”

“Where tradition and style forever align,” Sloan murmured.

A slight smile tugged her lips. Her chin lifted. She knew her intentions here were right, no matter what anyone else thought. Pride in her hard work, in pulling herself up from the bottom rung of the ladder, refused to let him condemn her loyalties. “Yes.”

Sloan stepped even closer. The urge to retreat exploded in her belly. Her muscles jumped to high alert, tightening in preparation for flight.

“I, too, value hard work, initiative and loyalty.” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “Just don’t forget who you work for now.”

The pressure of his stare proved too much with Vivian’s expectations still flashing neon in Ziara’s brain. Her gaze fell, grazing his fit body to the tips of his Gucci dress shoes. A short nod was all she could manage.

She wasn’t likely to forget anything about Sloan.

Still, the need to push back rose. “Wanting to uphold the values of this company isn’t a bad thing. After all, it is the way your father wanted this business run.” She ignored the twinge of her conscience. The truth hurt. This time, she leaned closer to him. “People other than you are allowed to care about this place, you know.”

Something flashed across his face that she couldn’t quite read, but it encouraged her to push harder. Not for Vivian. Not for her job. For Eternity Designs. “If you would just tell me what you’re trying to do here instead of leaving me in the dark, then maybe I could help.”

He met her halfway, crowding into her personal space with a sexy grin. “You’ll have to try harder than that to access my...secrets.”

Three (#ulink_b9a746b5-3d04-58b3-b495-ab4bca9ae7ab)

Sloan took a deep breath and wrestled with his libido for a moment before managing to lock it down. How could the simple sounds of Ziara at her desk turn him into a dirty old man? Well, not quite old, if the level of urgency he felt was anything to go by.

They had a long day ahead—he was pretty sure she was going to hate him by the time he was done, but as the saying went, he had to get rid of the old to make room for the new.

He would need Ziara’s help to carry out his plans without permanent damage. Robert and Anthony were indeed good designers, but designers who needed a serious shake-up. Vivian had offered Ziara for her expertise and he planned to conquer a large portion of his new territory today.

After a moment of silence, Ziara peeked around the door. “Do you need me for anything this morning, Mr. Creighton?”

Oh, honey, I need you for something really bad. Even though it was totally inappropriate, he couldn’t tame the thought. Once again Ziara was wrapped in a narrow skirt and suit jacket, although this one was a dark chocolate-brown that complemented her eyes, bringing out the golden flecks with a glimpse of a silky gold camisole. A little better, though seeing her abundant hair pinned to the nape of her neck just made his hands itch to let it all loose.

He shifted in his seat. “I’ve got a full agenda today. Where do we stand so far?”

Ziara’s efficiency impressed him. Not only had she started contacting people and places yesterday, she’d made a detailed list of the facts so he could compare easily and make decisions.

Old business out of the way, he straightened his shoulders, preparing to face the hardest part of the day. “Let’s take a trip down to the design floor and see what’s what with the Old Brigade.”

The Old Brigade was the employees’ term for the two main designers who headed and vetted all the dress designs for the company. Though by no means original, they’d each been with the company for over fifteen years.

Ziara hesitated, frozen for a moment like a deer caught in headlights at dusk; then she gathered her tablet and smoothed down her skirt.

He let her maintain her silence as they crossed into the hall, but he couldn’t afford for her to hold back. Everything might as well be out in the open.

He stopped in the middle of the deserted hallway. “Look, Ziara,” he said, turning to face her. “One of the reasons you’re here is to help me with intercompany relations, schedules, procedures, et cetera. Right?”