Driven to Temptation (2 page)

Chapter Two

Aidan stared. Couldn’t help it. The woman was pretty.
Very
pretty in a girl-next-door kind of way.

Thankfully, she’d diffused a tense situation. Joe Brewster was an important client to a firm like his, and the Century Plains project was critical to moving his company forward. Embarrassing himself in front of the man and losing a major account wasn’t something he wanted to do.

And Aidan had come too close for comfort just now.

Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she openly studied him, too.

I’m just about ready
, she’d said. Right. “Where, exactly, do you think you’re going?”

“Seattle. With you.” She pointed to the crates of brochures and a roller bag by the door. “If you load those up, I’ll be back with the rest.”

Really? “The last time I looked, I was headed north with a short bald guy sporting a huge beer gut.” The beer gut might be a little bigger now, but the older man had looked pretty much the same since Aidan was in high school.

“I promise he’s still that way.” One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Now, are you gonna load this up or do you want me to?”

Aidan pulled his hands out of the pockets of his 501s and crossed his arms over his chest. He’d likely end up with a wrinkled button-down shirt before reaching Seattle anyway. “Who
are
you?”

“Oh, right.” She flashed him a small smile and tapped one foot on the vinyl floor. “Sorry. I guess we’ve never met. Delaney. Delaney Harper. I work for Harold.”

He shook the hand she’d extended toward him, her grip firm and sure. Everything she’d said so far made it pretty clear she knew him, knew who he was.

As much as most did, anyway.

“You work for Harold,” he repeated.

“That would be correct.” The warmth of her smile made her even prettier, even with the raised eyebrow.

His gut churned again. Harold was right. He should spend more time at the office, get to know the people who worked for him. But he also knew he was better off—the
business
was better off—with the older man running the daily operations. Hadn’t he done a great job of it so far? “Where
is
Harold?”

She blew out a disgusted breath. “Food poisoning. I told him not to eat the sushi he bought at the gas station last night, but he kept gloating about it being
such
a good buy.” She shook her head, the late-morning sun making her hair look soft, like the kind a guy could grab on to while he thoroughly kissed her.

What?
Aidan gave himself a mental shake. Where the hell had that thought come from? Granted, he’d immersed himself in industry stats for weeks, trying to find ways to gain market share. Especially since he’d received the email listing Ross and Associates as one of a handful of businesses giving a formal presentation at this week’s trade show.

The one in Seattle.

The same one they were
way
behind schedule on. Even with the buffer he’d built into their travel plans, they’d be even later if they didn’t get ahead of Portland’s afternoon rush-hour traffic.

“I’ll grab the rest of our stuff.” She turned and marched around the partition.

Aidan blinked. What the hell was happening this morning? “Wait.” He trailed behind her. “Harold has food poisoning?” Of all the times not to have a contingency plan…

“He shoulda listened to me,” she said as she skirted the printer placed against one wall, away from the cubicles that dominated the center of the large room. Beside it, Brenda and Joe pored over documents.

“What did he do instead?” She glanced over her shoulder. “Ate it this morning with his coffee. And he did it in front of me.” At a door to the storage room, she spun around and faced him, an adorable frown on her pretty face. “Who eats raw fish at five a.m.? Frankly, it serves him right.”

Maybe. Too bad the timing sucked. He scrubbed a hand over his mouth, tried to compose himself to deal with the situation in a calm manner.

He liked predictability, liked the way the world worked when he had it all planned out. Which was what had made him a good soldier, and really good at geospatial engineering. He’d known it from the moment Harold had introduced him to the field. Taking ROTC classes in high school had only solidified his eventual career choice.

Mapping out terrain was like taking an unknown and making sense out of it, and it thrilled the hell out of him. He’d done it with his army battalion, figuring out the best route to take behind enemy lines. Now he got the same thrill when he planned out construction projects.

And construction wasn’t nearly as dangerous.

But this? There was no making sense of this. At. All. “Look, you’re not coming with me.”

She stopped halfway into the storage room, turned, and blinked her captivating eyes. “Why not? I’m the logical choice,” she said calmly. “I worked with Harold on this project for the last six weeks. All of it in between the field work he’s given me.” She leaned forward slightly. “I know this presentation better than anyone here.”

She was firm, confident. He’d give her that.

She pointed toward the office space behind him. “Not that anyone else is around. The other guys are out on jobs.” She stared him squarely in the eye, straightened, and placed her hands on the ill-fitting navy skirt covering her hips. “You’re lucky I’m available on short notice.”

Oh, hell. She was right. He couldn’t go to Seattle alone. He knew his strengths, his weaknesses. He wasn’t exactly the approachable type. Nor was he the social, chatty type, either. Wasn’t this morning the perfect example? He might turn off potential clients.

Worse, he would more than likely botch the presentation, and along with it the opportunity to finally impress the Pierce Engineering execs he knew would be there. Signing on with the international architectural firm would translate into more revenue and a bigger work force for Ross and Associates.

It might even make him happy. One day.

“What’s it going to be, Mr. Ross?” she asked, arms crossed as she did the toe-tapping thing again. “Am I changing back into a pair of jeans or are we headed north?”

God fucking damn
. How the hell could Harold have done this to him?

Aidan weighed his options. If she came along, there was a strong possibility she’d want to talk. In his experience, most women did. Talking meant she’d soon discover the Ice King his ex-wife had accused him of being. Not that he cared all that much what people thought of him, but the woman was an employee. So it was either take her along or do the trade show by himself.

Not much of a choice.

He blew out a breath. “I’ll load up after I get the displays and easels.”

“And what am I supposed to do? Stand here and watch you?” She unfolded her arms, and a corner of her mouth crooked up. “Not a chance.” With the efficiency of an army drill sergeant, she about-faced, then grabbed a couple of folded easels and a box of markers.

He sure as hell wasn’t going to stand around, either.

Aidan snatched a crate of brochures. Before he could catch up to her, she was halfway across the room, totally ignoring the fact that he trailed behind her.

She reached the front door and pushed it against a late September breeze that hit him like a blast of air-conditioning.

She reached for the rear door handle to his truck just as he depressed the button on his remote to unlock it. Without hesitation, she pulled it open.

Clearly, she was the independent type and didn’t expect him to do everything. Impressive.

He gave her a once-over from the top of her red hair to the boxy, oversize navy suit, down to the bottom of the clunkiest pair of shoes he’d ever seen on a woman. “I got this.”

“Who do you suppose carried all that stuff to the door?”

“Look, I’m not challenging your manhood, okay?” He brushed past her and placed the box on the backseat before shoving it over. “Go ahead and bring stuff out, but I’ll load the truck.”

She tapped her foot. “I promise I’m a master at putting puzzle pieces together. This,” she said with a jerk of her head toward the truck, “this is a piece of cake.”

“I never said you couldn’t do it.” He took the box out of her hands.

“Here’s a news flash. That’s exactly what you’re saying.”

Aidan stared at the fire in her eyes. Great. They hadn’t left Milestone yet and they were already arguing.

God fucking damn.

It was going to be a helluva long trip.

Chapter Three

Delaney hoisted her roller bag onto the rear passenger seat and smiled. Step one accomplished.
Finally.

She gave herself a mental fist bump. She’d not only met the elusive Aidan Ross, but she’d managed to talk her way into taking Harold’s place at the largest international construction trade show in the Pacific Northwest. It helped that she’d made sure the other guys were out in the field. Some things were best left unsaid. That she’d give the company’s presentation in a couple of days was the proverbial icing on the cake.

To think her parents wanted her to marry an engineer instead of
being
one. She’d show them. And she’d start by convincing Aidan to let her head the Century Plains project. It was a promotion long overdue. After all, the smaller jobs she’d managed always brought in a profit. Unlike some of the other guys. With a project the size of Century Plains, she’d make a bigger mark on the company’s bottom line.

Her stomach rumbled a reminder she hadn’t eaten today. Much. Fortunately, she’d packed a supply of snacks.

He loaded up the last of the easels and display charts in the bed of his truck. By the time he slammed the custom cover closed and locked it, she’d pulled a bag of corn chips from her handbag and torn it open. She shoved a couple of chips into her mouth and tossed her handbag onto the front seat as she crunched down.

Aidan’s voice cut through her thoughts. “What are you doing?”

“What? Oh. Sorry. How rude of me.” She held the opened bag toward where he sat in the driver’s seat. “I didn’t get a chance to eat anything this morning. Want some?”

“No, thanks.” His voice sounded tight as he fastened his seat belt. “I don’t eat in my truck.”

“Okay.” She took out a chip and crunched on it, corn yumminess exploding in her mouth. It might not be breakfast material, but if Harold could eat sushi, she could definitely justify corn chips.

“I don’t think you get it.
No one
eats in my truck.”

Great. They were still at the office and she’d already managed to piss him off. While she had to stay on his good side, it wouldn’t make sense if she keeled over from hunger before they even crossed the state line into Washington.

“I’m hungry,” she said firmly, exactly the way her favorite college professor had taught her. “And since I wasn’t able to eat because I was getting ready for this trip, I think I should be allowed to have something. Want to wait a few minutes? Or maybe we can stop for a quick bite. There’s a Bobby Jo’s a couple of blocks away. They make great chili dogs.”

No mistaking the cringe across Aidan’s face.

“What? Do you not like chili dogs or something? I’ll buy.”

“No.”

“No, you don’t like chili dogs, or no, you don’t want me to buy?” she asked before quickly shoving more chips in her mouth.

“Both.” His tone was clipped as he continued to stare at her.

“Does this mean you aren’t going to stop?” she asked a moment later.

“Yes.”

Okay. Let’s try this again, shall we?
She kept her voice calm. “Yes, you’re going to stop, or yes, you’re
not
going to stop? Because if you’re not going to stop, I’m telling you right now, there’s no way I’m gonna last six more hours without food.”

And a hungry Delaney wasn’t someone he’d want to deal with. She stared at him intently, tried to telegraph that fact into his ever-so-hot and ever-so-stubborn profile.

“I’m not stopping.”

“Look.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “I’ll eat over the bag so there won’t be any crumbs.”

“There are always crumbs, no matter how careful you are.”

“Okay.” Yeesh. Was he always so anal? Maybe it was a good thing he
didn’t
hang around the office at all. “What if I vacuum the cab out when we get back to Milestone?”

He blew out a breath even as he nodded. “I suppose that’d work.”

Thank God for small favors.

“Is it okay to drink, too?” She pulled out a bottle of Gatorade and shot him her most charming smile.

“Fine. Just get in the truck,” the man practically growled at her. “We’re behind schedule.”

And he was grumpy, too. Wasn’t this going to be a blast?

Well, at least she was here. All set to haul herself into the belly of the beast. In a skirt suit. And heels.

She glanced at the passenger seat again. What the hell was it with guys and big trucks, anyway? Central Oregon was full of them. Aidan’s definitely stood out from the rest of those in the Ross and Associates fleet—if three pickups could be called a “fleet.”

She had to somehow haul herself in. When she placed her opened bag of corn chips on the seat, she glanced across the cab. He looked pointedly at the dash, then stared at her expectantly. “Anytime
soon
would be good.”

She gave him a small smile. “Wish me luck.”

He raised an eyebrow but said nothing, his steel-gray gaze meeting hers. Her heartbeat kicked up at the intensity in it, at the way heat seemed to sizzle off him.

Which was ridiculous. That kind of stuff only happened in the movies.

She brushed aside the thought. “Have you ever tried to get into a truck with a skirt and heels on?”

“Never.” A corner of his mouth ticked up in amusement.

Right. Now there was a dumb question. Her face heated. At least he had some sort of a sense of humor.

“Neither have I,” Delaney muttered. Nope. A skirt and heels weren’t the norm at Ross and Associates. They weren’t the norm anywhere in her life. Her face flushed at the memories of her brothers’ relentless teasing when she was a kid. At the way she couldn’t keep up with them every time her mother made her wear a dress.

She wasn’t a kid anymore, was she? Still, she fought down the panic that typically accompanied her attempts at being feminine. Just because girlie clothes weren’t her norm didn’t mean she couldn’t somehow pull this off.

Of course, if she hadn’t spent the better part of the past twenty years avoiding dressing like a girl, she’d probably know how to climb into a truck
like
a girl.

Quickly, she tamped down the feelings of inadequacy. She was smart. The guys took her work seriously. It didn’t really matter that she lived in jeans and the suit thing wasn’t always something she could pull off.

She wiggled her toes in her brown leather shoes. Kitten heels, the saleslady had called them. Sounded harmless at the time. Now Delaney wondered if she should’ve stuck with flats. She’d be freakin’ lucky if she didn’t trip in the low-heeled pumps before the trade show was over.

But they had to get there first.

One. Two. Three.
Haul.

Okay. She was on the truck’s chrome step.

“You good?”

“Couldn’t be better.” She balanced herself on her right leg and stopped.

Her skirt length was modest. Below the knees modest. Unfortunately, even modest skirts rode up the thigh when stepping into a truck. How the hell else was she supposed to get in except by doing it quickly?

She should’ve skipped the skirt and worn jeans. If this wasn’t technically the first time she’d met Aidan, she might’ve done that. Instead, she’d listened to the voice in her head reminding her to stay professional. A whole hell of a lot of good it was doing her now.

She plopped down, the soft leather cradling her, then pulled her right leg in. Yep. A comfortable pair of yoga pants would’ve been perfect for the drive, now that she thought about it. Along with sneakers and an old shirt.

Professional, promotion-seeking employees wore neither yoga pants nor sneakers to work. Another golden piece of advice from her mother. At least she’d remembered to pack them.

She glanced in Aidan’s direction, and her gaze locked with his a split second longer than it should have. Which was probably why her heart jolted, followed by a strange, achy-type feeling.
Whoa.

She tore her gaze away, her heart hammering as she reached for the seat belt. What the hell was
that
about?

The truck’s engine growled to life, and she shot him a sideways glance, caught the glide of his large hands on the steering wheel.

Large, strong, powerful hands. Hands that slid over the steering wheel with measured, controlled movements as he pulled out of the parking space and merged with traffic.
Controlled
. That was the word she’d been searching for to describe him. Everything about him oozed control. What would it take to get him to
lose
some of that control?

She pulled her gaze away and absently crunched on a chip. What the hell was the matter with her?

Remember the goal.

The goal. Right. Here was her chance to convince Aidan she was the logical choice to head the Century Plains project, the next step in her master plan.

She crunched on another chip as he maneuvered the truck onto Milestone’s main road toward Portland. From there, Seattle was another three hours away.

She made a mental note to tweak the parameters of the computer program she’d developed and planned to unveil to him later.

The program was genius, if she did say so herself. It would allow clients to visualize a project through each stage of the construction process and iron out any glitches before even mobilizing on-site. Material procurement, equipment needs, and labor hours would be easier to plan, too.

Yeah, she should’ve shared it with Harold, but she’d just finished it last night. Not that he knew anything about the program, either.

She glanced at Aidan. She was
so
not going to waste this opportunity.

Delaney knew this would give Ross and Associates a huge advantage. Then Aidan would have to realize she was worth more than being just another field employee—she could run a large project team, and maybe even be partner one day. And then, she’d start up her own engineering firm full of brilliant female engineers.

“You’re smiling.”

“I am.” She licked salty goodness off her fingertips. “This is exciting.”

And it was. She’d prove to her parents she was more than capable of becoming successful in a man’s world even if that world contained a boss with sexy steel-gray eyes. Maybe then they’d quit badgering her to move back home.

As if she’d actually cave. While generations of Harper women became Suzy Homemakers to engineers,
this
Harper woman wasn’t following in those footsteps. Nope. She was going to stay an engineer instead of taking care of one.

He pulled the truck to a stop at an intersection, then turned to look at her, eyes narrowed. “You’ve been with the company about a year now, right?”

“Actually, almost two years.” Two years of wondering if the reality of Aidan Ross meshed anywhere near his image on the company website. Though he was even hotter than his official company photo, she never expected her hormones to kick in like bees that’d found a new field of flowers. This reaction was totally dumb and totally not cool. He was her boss, for heaven’s sake.

“Before that?”

“I was hired right out of college.” Now she was spending six hours on the road with him, a three-day trade show, then a six-hour road trip back. All with testosterone flowing out of him like a leaking drum on a construction site. Was it getting hot in here?

Delaney sucked in a deep breath and tried to temper her hormones. She held out the bag. “You sure you don’t want some?”

“I’m sure.”

“You afraid of gaining weight or something?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Nah. I spend enough time doing yoga.” She’d have to make up classes this weekend, but it was so worth it.

“I don’t spend hours at the gym just to poison my body with that stuff.”

“Poison?” She raised an eyebrow. “That’s a bit dramatic.”

“It’s the truth. You have any idea what you’re eating? The kinds of chemicals you’re feeding yourself?”

“Wow,” she said, injecting as much feeling into her voice as she could. “When you put it that way,” she added with a shrug, “it still tastes good.”

“Life’s not all about taste.”

Maybe not, but Delaney knew she was better off running her life according to her tastes than to bend to what society—or her parents—dictated. If she did that, where would she be now? In the kitchen making dinner or baking bread.

Not that there was anything wrong with that.

As long as it wasn’t her.