Fistful of Roses (What a Woman Wants, Book 1) (3 page)

Sophie watched the byplay and a sense of unreality pressed on her. Did he want Hayden to leave them alone? She squeezed her arms tighter around herself, butterflies taking flight in her chest as he walked around the conference table and stopped behind her. Her breath lodged in her throat and goose bumps broke out on her arms. Sophie swore she could feel the molecules of air he stirred as they brushed against her skin.

“Sophie.” Her name and nothing more whispered at her ear as he leaned over her, his breath stirring the hair at her nape, his chest just barely touching her back. His hands formed a barrier around her as he placed his palms on the table, caging her in. Ryan’s warmth shocked her; prickles of heat danced on her skin.

“Yes, Mr. Locke?” She responded in a whisper herself, barely able to speak around the frog that had leaped into her throat.

“What do you think about the deal?”

“I’ve already given you my take on Mr. Wellesley’s offer.” She turned her head, heart beating out of her chest, breathing becoming harder and harder, until she encountered his sky-blue orbs.

“Sophie, the deal you so eloquently wrote out last night, or should I say this morning, is brilliant work. Do you think Mr. Wellesley and the Defence Ministry of Britain are posturing so that I’ll sell for less?” His finger rose and her eyes closed as he touched her cheek.

She leaned into the touch and her eyes opened wide before she zeroed in on his lips. Cursed, cursed lips. She wanted to attack them with her own. There was a question she should be asking, or answering, but at this point her thoughts were scrambled eggs in the frying pan of her brain.

“Your hair was caught here.” His finger touched her lips and brushed across them.

What happened next was instinct, and she could no more have stopped it than she could have stopped her pounding heart. Her teeth caught his finger, and her tongue flicked out to taste. His eyes flared at the touch, and his breathing went harsh as he turned her chair and started to pull her to him.

The door to the conference room opened, Mr. Bent cleared his throat, and the spell was broken. Regret beat a swift tattoo across his face. He pulled away from her, and she sagged back into the chair. Mr. Bent threw her a knowing look that bordered on downright mean as his brows lowered in warning.

She looked away and tried to ignore him as she doodled on her pad. Hands shaking, her heart wouldn’t stop trying to beat out of her chest. Her tongue twirled in her mouth as his flavor imprinted itself on her memory. Heat, cinnamon, and something quintessentially male triggered a need to dive into the man across the room from her and just get lost. She’d lusted after him for six months, pretty much the entire time she’d worked here, and now it seemed the feeling was mutual. Yet for her it was more than lust, this insane need that blossomed when she was around him. It bordered on a stalking kind of obsession. She couldn’t let thoughts of him go even when she was at home. He haunted her.

Definitely this was an alternate reality. Good shit like this didn’t happen to Sophie Hanson. It just didn’t and she had too much baggage, too many responsibilities, to be dealing with someone as potent as Ryan Locke. There was also that little annoying fact he was her boss.

Completely off-limits. She took a deep breath, recalling that Mr. Wellesley needed to be called back.

“Shall I get Mr. Wellesley back on the phone, Mr. Locke?” she whispered.

His shoulders stiffened and he turned slowly, his gaze a slice of blue flame as it traveled over her face. As usual his expression was unreadable. He nodded, and his look turned considering.

She lowered her gaze and called Emma, his secretary, to get the Defence Council head back on the phone. And then she sat back and waited.

*

“Mr. Locke? Mr. Wellesley is on the line.” Emma’s voice was startling in the dead silent room.

“Thank you, Emma.” Ryan forced his gaze away from Sophie. “Wellesley, we are not giving up our specs, designs, or the patents. You’ve seen the results of this technology and know that the US is on standby with us for orders. I’ve offered this to you before anyone else in Europe simply because of your nephew and the fact that you’re my country’s ally. You have no bargaining tool in this deal. Take it or leave it.” His words dropped into the silence like bombs.

There was no response from Mr. Wellesley other than a deep sigh. Several minutes passed. Ryan stayed silent; Hayden did as well. Ryan contented himself with looking at Sophie, whose head was bowed as she doodled nervously on the paper in front of her. She had drafted the deal. The report he’d asked her for earlier detailing the specifics had been concise and accurate. She’d needed to be at this call for that reason alone. As its author, she knew the ins and outs better than he or Hayden did. He’d ruffled her feathers intentionally moments ago, needing to get under her skin the way she was under his.

But it had been a double-edged sword. The moment her tongue had touched his finger he’d gone brick hard, and need had screamed through his blood. He’d damn near staggered under the intensity of it, so close to kissing her he hadn’t realized Hayden had walked in until his friend cleared his throat. He’d wanted to grab him by the throat again, the frustration had been so great.

Instead, he’d walked away. Her head was bent, the glossy black strands of her hair pulled up in a neat bun. Some had come loose earlier as he’d hovered over her, and he’d jumped on the opportunity to touch her. Her skin was so fucking soft. Her smell drove him mad, too. A hint of lavender and the ocean, the combination was heady and irresistible. She was a tiny thing, barely reaching his collarbone, but stacked.

And those thoughts were a dangerous road to travail with a multimillion-dollar deal on the line.
Get it together, Locke.

Wellesley cleared his throat, the sound bringing her head up, her gaze to Ryan’s. He tapped his lips and waited for the other man to fold.

“You’ve got me by the short hairs.” Wellesley sighed. “I assume you own the satellite outright? There won’t be any danger of foreclosure and the technology falling into enemy hands?”

“You wound me, Mr. Wellesley. I would have thought your nephew filled you in on just how tight our ship is run.” Hayden’s voice was a whip.

“I’m sorry, young man. Although my nephew speaks highly of you and his opinion carries weight, we are talking about multiple millions of US dollars with several more for continuous support. Forgive me my need to assure myself you are as you seem on paper and in my nephew’s eyes.”

Silence spoke for both Ryan and Hayden. Sophie’s gaze was trained on him, her curiosity a tactile caress. She’d only been with their company for six months and could have no way of knowing the full scope of how they ran their business. Not many did, even the ones who’d been with them from the beginning.

“Consider the deal complete. I will get final approval from the Council and should have the purchase order to you within the next week. Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure.”

“The same, Mr. Wellesley. ATC looks forward to working with you,” Ryan said in return.

Both parties disconnected and Ryan let out a relieved breath as he looked at Hayden. They shook hands before they pounded fists and smiled. Deal done. Now all he had to do was deliver the device and get back here so he could deal with another pressing issue: Sophie.

“I’ll see you at the club tonight?” Hayden asked as he made to leave the room.

“Not tonight. I have the High Museum Gala and then a meeting.” Ryan’s voice was hushed, but he knew she heard him as she stood to gather her stuff.

“Who you taking? Not Gloria; tell me not Gloria. Good God, the woman’s a viper. Easy on the eyes, but a viper.” Hayden laughed and then went silent at the look Ryan threw him.

Ryan was attentive to every move, hell, every breath Sophie took. Her spine straightened and color stained her cheeks as she shoved her pad into her briefcase and snapped it shut. She turned to leave and he watched her go, enjoying her fit of pique and hoping at the reason behind it.

Her apple-shaped bottom, tight and flexing beneath a pencil-thin skirt, taunted him as she walked out the door.

“Thank you, Sophie. Good job,” he called out to her, and she straightened even farther as she stopped for a second. She nodded and continued out the door.

“You know you’ve got it bad, right?” Hayden teased him and then threw his hands in the air, palms out as if in defense of a blow when Ryan glared at him. “I told you I’d leave it alone, but this is going to be good. She’s gonna be a tough nut to crack, and I don’t know that settling down is in your immediate future, bro.”

“Off. Limits,” Ryan bit out through gritted teeth.

He didn’t know about settling down, but he knew he wanted Sophie like hell on fire, and he was going to have her one way or the other. Danger be damned.

Chapter 3

“So how was the conference call?” Gigi asked as they walked out into the Georgia sunshine. Nice lingering warmth in the fall air had her turning her head up to catch the sun on her face.

“You know I can’t talk about it.” Sophie sighed as she stepped up to the lunch cart vendor and placed an order for a chicken salad sandwich. She absolutely did not want to talk about how she’d almost forced herself on her boss and then found out he had a date tonight. She groaned silently.

“That’ll be eight dollars, ma’am,” the vendor said. She handed him a ten and told him to keep the change as she took her lunch and walked to a small seating area right outside their building.

“And you know I’m not talking about that call either, girl. I want deets on your man.” Gigi was nothing if not persistent. Sophie looked at her best friend of almost eleven years and cringed at the bulldog stubbornness on her face.

She sighed loudly and popped a fry into her mouth, washing it down with ice-cold Coke before she tented her hands and rested her chin on them. “There are no deets, and he’s not my man.”

“Yet.” There was a taunt in the word that Sophie knew better than to latch onto.

“You’re so bad. And I’m not discussing Mr. Locke with you. So, what’s the deal for this weekend?” Evade and counter. Sophie was a master at it, and she really hoped Gigi picked up on her reticence to discuss their boss.

“You talking about Music Midtown? We’re still going right, ’cause you promised me last year you’d never miss again. And guess what? You ain’t missing this year. I paid for VIP passes—your ass is going.” Gigi snorted and bit into her hot dog.

“I’m there. I have to run by the hospital after work and check on Mama, but tomorrow, I’m yours.”

Gigi snorted. “I know whose you really want to be…”

Sophie rolled her eyes. Evade and counter.

“Where are we going to eat?”

Gigi shook her head wearily but smiled. “So how’s your mom? How long are they going to keep her this time?”

Mission accomplished.

Sophie tossed her napkin down on the table and finished her Coke. “I don’t know. Did I tell you I looked into that place in Alabama for her? I can’t keep doing this. She’s just too unstable, and Gavin isn’t going to help me out at all. Damn. It’s going to about break me financially to afford it, but at least she’ll get the round-the-clock care she needs.” She hung her head, a sharp ache in the region of her heart. Her mother was beyond Sophie’s scope of care anymore.

She was really beyond anyone but a trained professional’s care at this point. Too many years of abusing drugs and being abused by boyfriends had removed her mother’s ability to reason or function. Brain damage had taken her away from Sophie long ago, and now Sophie’s inability to provide care for her was taking her even farther away.

“She needs to go, Phie. You can’t keep—”

“Ms. Hanson! Ms. Hanson!” A shrill voice interrupted Gigi and brought Sophie’s head swiveling around to the front of the building.

“Oh, great, what’s happened now?” Sophie muttered as she got up and trashed what remained of her lunch.

“Ms. Hanson, an important call came in from the hospital. Your mother’s doctor needs you there immediately,” Emma, Mr. Locke’s secretary, told her in a rush.

Sophie closed her eyes, dread moving through her in a tidal wave. Dear God, what else could go wrong in this day? She couldn’t afford to leave work for this.

“Mr. Locke said for you to take the afternoon off and handle your business, so no worries about that.” Emma seemed to read her mind.

Well,
damn
. It was a nice gesture to let her off for the family emergency, but … yeah, leaving work was going to cut into her pockets.

“Tell him thank you, Emma. I’ll see you Monday.”

A hand settled on her back, and Gigi hugged her close. “Go take care of your mama, girl. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow and we’ll see if you still feel like going out, okay?”

“Thanks, Gigi. I just don’t—” Her voice broke and she took a deep breath. She wasn’t about to lose it here, right outside of work. She straightened her spine and headed to get her things and leave.

Sophie passed by Ryan’s office, and his bright blue gaze caught her quick glance. His face was, as usual, unreadable, but there was a definite look of concern in his eyes, which she did her best to ignore as she kept walking. Her heart sped up, but she kept moving. Once in her office, she grabbed her briefcase and purse. She put his suit jacket over her arm, fully intending to return it to him, but he was gone when she came back down the hall.

She tucked it under her arm and told herself she’d return it Monday. Maybe she could spend the entire weekend wrapped up in his scent. Who was she kidding? She
would
spend her whole weekend on the couch, his suit coat wrapped around her as she moped. He was going out to a huge party for a local museum with someone else. She had no right to the feeling, but it stung, made her want to rub her chest to ease the ache that settled there. The closest she’d ever get to Ryan Locke was his coat.

She was pathetic she had it so bad. When a man’s smell had the potential to get you through a long, lonely weekend, you were hopeless. Still, she hugged the coat close and made her way out of the office, alternately hoping she didn’t see him so she had to give it back and praying she would see him because, well then, she’d be seeing him, and that was the only thing that could trump smelling him.