Covet (17 page)

But far from being attracted to someone like Morgan, Ian had in fact been thoroughly repulsed by her. And if her intentionally seductive appearance hadn’t been enough to turn his stomach, then her almost constant flirting and flagrant attempts to seduce him had nearly made him shudder in revulsion.

Being the properly brought up English gentleman that he was, however, Ian had merely chosen to ignore Morgan’s initial attempts to lure him, abruptly steering their conversation back to business. But when, after a few such meetings, she had failed to get the hint, he’d taken off the gloves and let her know in no uncertain terms that her behavior would no longer be tolerated.

He’d given Morgan what he knew to be his coldest, haughtiest glare. “Ms. Cottrell, I’ve tried to make it quite clear to you that I’m not the tiniest bit interested in - ah, what you’re offering. But since you’re not getting the message – whether intentionally or not – let me be very clear here
.”

Ian had leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the surface of his desk and steepling his fingers beneath his chin as Morgan had rather visibly began to quiver in fear at the severity of his tone
.

“
I am not, nor will I ever be,” he’d enunciated each word carefully and precisely, “interested in anything you have to offer aside from your business acumen. I understand from my predecessor and from your personnel file that you’ve done an admirable job thus far as our regional business development manager. A job that you may very well find yourself in jeopardy of losing unless you cease and desist your very unwelcomed advances. Do I make myself clear, Ms. Cottrell?
”

Morgan had almost jumped out of her seat in reaction to his harsh words. “Yes, Mr. Gregson,” she’d mumbled in an obedient tone. “I, ah, understand
.”

“
Good. I trust that there won’t be any further need to have a discussion like this one?” he’d asked. At her nod, he had passed her a sheet of paper. “One last thing. This is our corporate dress code, Ms. Cottrell. I suggest you re-read and familiarize yourself with it since you’ve obviously chosen to blatantly ignore nearly every item on the list. This is a place of business, not a singles bar, so please dress accordingly in the future
.”

Their meeting had ended abruptly, with Morgan slinking out of his office red-faced and speechless, but the uncomfortable confrontation had more than done the trick. Ever since that day Morgan had never dared to so much as smile at him, and she’d toned down the overtly sexual way she dressed. Her appearance was still not as refined or classy as Ian would have preferred, but since her overall job performance was quite satisfactory he chose to let certain things slide a bit.

Ian typically timed his arrival at office meetings so that he would be the last one to enter the room, though he was rarely ever late. His executives and managers had learned by now that he didn’t tolerate tardiness, and everyone was already seated in their usual places when he strode decisively into the largest of the three conference rooms on this floor.

“Good morning. Is everyone ready to start?” he inquired while taking his customary seat at the head of the long, rectangular conference table.

There were nods and mumbled assents from the dozen or so employees seated around the table, as Ian pulled out the agenda for this morning’s meeting, giving it a quick scan and a wry acknowledgment of Andrew’s efficiency. His extremely competent, frighteningly well-organized PA tended to keep things as short and to-the-point as possible, evidenced by the brevity of today’s agenda.

“Um, Mr. Gregson, do you, um, need anything? Like coffee or something?”

Ian glanced up at the sound of the rather nervous female voice, and had to suppress a sigh of annoyance at the way the admin assistant – Sarah – was staring down at him as she practically hovered by his side. She looked starstruck, her brown eyes wide, and she was almost simpering as she waited breathlessly for his reply.

“Tea, please,” he corrected, hoping his tone didn’t betray his impatience. “Darjeeling, one sugar. Thank you, Sarah.”

Sarah practically tripped over her too-high heels as she went to fix his tea. The conference room had built-in cabinets with glossy granite counters at one end of the room where a tea and coffee service was always set out for meetings, along with any food that had been ordered. There would of a certainty be some type of breakfast pastries – bagels, muffins, croissants – along with fruit and juice, but Ian rarely partook of such things. He was extremely disciplined about his diet and exercise regime, and seldom allowed himself sweets. It was one of the many reasons he was in better physical condition now than he’d ever been in his life – including his years at Oxford, where he’d been on the boxing team and won the heavyweight title three years in a row.

His tea was placed in front of him by Sarah’s none-too-steady hand, and some of the liquid sloshed over onto the table.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Gregson,” gushed Sarah. “Just let me get something to clean that up.”

“It’s fine,” he assured her rather abruptly. “I’m rather anxious to get the meeting started so don’t bother about it. Thank you.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll just – um, take notes then.”

Ian merely arched a brow at her, until she got the hint and hastily tottered over to her seat at the other end of the room. He noticed with a discreet and wholly impersonal eye that Sarah’s dress was rather on the short side, and made a mental note to have Andrew remind their newest team member about proper office attire. Ian knew that many in the office viewed his guidelines as rather archaic and bordering on male chauvinism, but he had good reasons behind enforcing such strict rules. For one thing, in order to maintain the very, very high standard that the Gregson name was associated with, it was critical for both the company’s properties
and
its employees to always appear classy and well kept.

As for the other – well, while Ian himself was more than capable of keeping his mind focused solely on business and not letting a pretty, provocatively dressed female distract him, the same couldn’t be said for some of the other male employees. In particular, the detested Jason Baldwin, who was married to Ian’s cousin Charlotte, and who had unfortunately been dumped on Ian a few months ago after yet another complaint had been filed against him. His Uncle Richard – Jason’s father-in-law - had had to sweep the incidences under the rug in order to avoid damaging sexual harassment suits, and this most recent case had been volatile enough to warrant shipping Jason and his family to California all the way from London.

Ian had not been pleased at this development, and especially when he’d been obliged to place Jason into an executive position. He had never liked his cousin’s husband, finding Jason to be on the crude side without much polish or class, and Ian suspected that Jason had married the rather plain, almost dowdy Charlotte largely for her money and connections. But Charlotte seemed happy enough with the bastard, and they had three children together by now. Ian wondered with a disgusted shake of his head if his poor, naïve cousin even suspected that her rat of a husband cheated on her on a regular basis, and that his roving eye had been the reason for their sudden move to San Francisco.

Even now, Jason was rather boldly flirting with Morgan Cottrell, and Ian thought dourly that the pair of them deserved each other. If rumor could be believed, the two of them had been sleeping together on and off for months now, not long after Jason had arrived in California. Ian wasn’t sure what was more appalling – that Jason so flagrantly betrayed his marriage vows, or that Morgan would chase after a married man. Whether it was due to being hopelessly old-fashioned, or simply being a man of exceedingly high moral standards, Ian knew that he would never become involved with a married woman, no matter how attracted to her he might be.

He took a sip of his tea, grimacing as he realized that the liquid was at best lukewarm, overly sweet, and weak. He pushed the cup and saucer aside, wondering why most Americans had little to no idea how to brew a proper cup of tea.

As the meeting progressed, Ian’s discreet, but all-seeing gaze would flick around the room from time to time to observe each person present. His father had taught him this particular skill a long time ago – how to observe people without them ever being aware they were being watched. It was a skill he was now something of an expert at, and that he had used many times to his advantage. He noticed the rapt attention on the face of one executive, boredom on another’s, annoyance on a third’s. And he frowned while noticing that Jason’s attention had suddenly shifted from Morgan to Sarah, eyeing the young admin assistant in a very assessing manner.

‘Randy bastard,’ Ian muttered to himself. ‘If he thinks he’s going to take up where he left off in London, he’s got quite another thought coming to him. Time to have a word or two with Jason and make sure he keeps his dick in his pants around here. I’m not willing to deal with the threat of a sexual harassment suit.’

Ian jotted a quick note to himself to also place a call to the very discrete, very efficient private investigator he’d had occasion to use from time to time since arriving in San Francisco. Not for personal reasons, of course, though keeping tabs on his lecherous cousin-in-law could be considered both business and personal. In any event, it wouldn’t hurt to be kept apprised of Jason’s actions, especially since Ian didn’t trust him in the least.

He also noticed, with mingled annoyance and dismay, that Sarah’s own gaze continued to drift his way far too often, and in far too hopeful of a manner. He sighed, realizing that he would likely have to take more extreme measures with the newest member of his management support team, freezing her off without seeming too much of a cold-hearted bastard. He always made sure to treat the team members with respect and consideration, to be polite and pleasant, but at the same time making sure to keep things impersonal and strictly business. With the starry-eyed Sarah, however, it seemed that he would have to be a bit less pleasant and far more impersonal until she took the hint and stopped mooning over him.

Even if the girl hadn’t been his employee, Ian would have paid her scant attention. She simply wasn’t his type, any more than Alicia or Morgan or any other female in this office was. Oh, Sarah was pretty enough, he supposed, with long chestnut hair, a small, heart-shaped face, and a trim figure that was too lean for Ian’s liking. But there was nothing terribly special about her, nothing in her face or body or personality that made her stand out from the dozens –
hundreds
– of other women who had crossed his path over the years.

And Colin had unknowingly been spot on this morning when he’d chided his older brother about not having had sex for quite some time. But it had been even longer than the six months that Colin had guessed at, closer to a year actually, and the encounter had been rather forgettable, enough so that he had to concentrate now to even recall the woman’s name and face.

After he’d broken off his engagement to a tearful Davina, Ian had had neither the time nor the energy to become involved with someone new. He had also been extremely considerate of Davina’s feelings, unwilling to be seen out with someone new so soon after ending their relationship. The demands of his job back then had been nearly overwhelming at times – traveling all over the world as something of a troubleshooter for the company, which involved being on the road more than half of each month.

And then had come the unexpected news that he was being promoted to Regional Director of the company’s American division – overseeing all of the properties in the United States, Canada, Mexico, the Caribbean, and South America. He’d been far too busy selling his London residence, packing up all of his furnishings and belongings, and familiarizing himself with all of the new responsibilities he would have to even think of going on a date. It had only been on his second to last night in England – after a farewell party attended by his brothers, closest friends, and several co-workers – that he’d finally given in to temptation.

Admittedly he’d been more than a little tipsy, not to mention fighting off a bad case of sadness and melancholy at leaving his home, and he had reasoned afterwards that this was why he’d allowed himself to get picked up by the woman at the hotel bar. It had been a quick, meaningless one-night stand – something that he’d really only indulged in a couple of times before – and he had gone back to his own home quickly thereafter.

Since his arrival in San Francisco, he’d been far too busy getting settled into his new job and home to think about meeting someone new. He’d gone on a few very casual dates, but not much beyond that.

He’d grown jaded, he realized now with resignation, and had more or less given up hope that he would ever meet that one special woman – the one who would cause bells to ring and sparks to fly and his heart to sing. It was highly unlikely that such a paragon even existed – his ideal of the perfect woman. And until he was lucky enough to actually find such a woman – or be willing to compromise his ridiculously high standards and settle for less – Ian was destined to remain married solely to his job.

Tessa looked around the room that would serve as living room, dining area, and kitchen – though the tiny cooking area with its two-burner stove, compact refrigerator, and almost complete lack of cabinet and counter space was technically more of a kitchenette. She tried to hide the dismay she was feeling as she tried to figure out how all of their furniture was going to fit into such a cramped space. Not that they had a lot of belongings, of course, but even the little they had was going to be a tight fit in such a tiny apartment.

“Um, it’s got – ah, character, I suppose,” she acknowledged in a halting voice. “The wood floors are nice, and the bay window.”

She didn’t add that the floors were scuffed and badly in need of refinishing, while the wooden window frame had several visible cracks, and she could feel the cool early autumn air seeping inside the apartment through the poorly insulated glass panes.