His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit) (11 page)

BOOK: His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit)
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“Bugger off.”

“Don’t let that grouchy exterior fool you, Brynn. Inside, he has a heart of gold.”

Iain scoffed. “You’ve gone soft in the head, woman.”

Amelia winked at Brynn and left the office, closing the door on her way out.

Brynn was staring at him again with that penetrating look, like she was trying to see inside his brain. He almost preferred it when she acted all shy and stared at her feet. Almost.

He pocketed the dice, then stood and strolled over to the couch. “Come over here and sit. I’ll tell you what I’ve got on the agenda today. You’re late, you know. I expected you to come hurtling through that door an hour ago.”

Brynn wandered over to the corner seating area but didn’t go near the sofa. She was wary of him, clever girl. She perched on the edge of the chair instead, trying to keep some distance between them. Like that would work. Iain planned on keeping her close by all day, every day, until he broke down the last of her barriers. Never give an opponent a chance to regroup. Brynn may not be his enemy, but the theory still applied.

“I don’t hurtle,” she said, in a prim, shirty sort of way.

“Of course you don’t love.” He offered her a cup of coffee. “You duck out while the shit hits the fan.” He gestured at the pastries. “Which do you prefer, lemon or strawberry? They’re both good.”

“Neither, thank you.” She half stood and accepted the coffee, giving Iain the tiniest glimpse of the valley between her breasts. Her bra was ivory, and he spotted a hint of lace. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Iain fought the urge to touch her again, lick her, arouse her until those puffy areolas deepened from powder pink to dark rose.

He slapped a napkin on the coffee table and set the pastry on top. “Eat it—you’ll love it.”

She met his gaze. “I’m not hungry, but thank you.”

Oh, this was her way of telling him to fuck off, her little act of rebellion. It was a small thing, but he’d let her have it. With the morning sun falling across her dark hair and tanned skin, she looked bloody beautiful. There was a defiant gleam in her eyes. Iain might let her win these minor skirmishes, but he would win the war.

Brynn glanced at the napkin and stroked her thumb along the embroidered blue moon. “You named your company in honor of your favorite soccer team?”

He paused in surprise. “Football team. What else do you think you know about me?”

“There wasn’t much to find.”

Iain crossed his long legs and got comfortable. He paid talented people to keep it that way. Iain only released what information he wanted the public to know. The rest was personal, and no one else’s fucking business. Not even Brynn Campbell’s. Hypocritical, since he’d dug into every area of her life? Add that to his list of sins.

She was quiet for a moment as she stared into her cup. “Iain, I really don’t think this working situation is conducive for either of us. You’re undoubtedly busy. I have work to do. Real work. I’d like to find you someone who’s adept at teaching in an unconventional environment.
I
feel that would be more beneficial.”

“Sorry, love, not interested.”

“I strenuously object.”

Iain grinned at her phrasing. “Stop being so polite. I won’t burst into tears if you tell me to fuck off. Say what you mean, Brynn. I always do. People may not like to hear it, but at least I’m honest. Come on, try it. You’ll feel better.” He took a bite of his pastry and calmly chewed.

She set her full cup on the table as her small, straight nose flared ever so slightly. Oh, she was well and truly brassed off. “I won’t give you the satisfaction.”

“It’s not my satisfaction I’m worried about, darling. It’s yours.”

Her gaze slammed into his. Gripping the chair, she leaned forward, pressing her lips together, still holding back.

“Tell me to get stuffed, then. Go on.”

She jumped to her feet. “You are…totally unbelievable.”

A burst of laughter escaped him. He couldn’t help it. She stood there, vibrating with rage, and all she could muster was a limp description of his outrageous behavior. He set the Danish down and brushed his hands together as he stood. “We both know that, love. Come up with something original. I know you can do it if you try.”

“This is over. I’m out of here.” She turned and stormed back toward the desk, picked up her bag, and slammed her notebook closed.

“Before you leave, there’s something you should know.”

“I’m not really interested in what you have to say right now, Iain.”

“Oh, I think you will be. Your boss, Cassandra
Delaney, has mismanaged what should be a successful business. She’s nearly run the thing into the bloody ground.”

Brynn slowly straightened and turned toward him. “What?”

“She’s not embezzling, not as far as I can tell, but she’s reckless with money. Her overhead is high, and she pays herself three times more than what she should be taking given the bottom line. The Delaney Training Center is sinking. Sooner rather than later. This influx of cash I’m providing, it could mean solvency.”

Brynn blinked a few times. “So what you’re saying is, if I don’t stay on this job, she could lose everything?” Her face, so bright and red a few moments before, drained of color.

“That’s it in a nutshell all right.”

“She told me she could use the money, but I had no idea things were this bad.” Brynn ran a finger over one brow. “I have more work than I can handle. The business should be on track.”

“I imagine she gives you enough work for three people. And you do it all without complaint.”

Brynn nodded.

Instinct demanded that Iain crush Cassandra Delaney and her business into a pile of dust. How dare she treat Brynn this way? Iain felt proprietary, like a dragon guarding what was his.
Brynn’s not yours.
Not yet, but she would be. “I could buy the business if you’d like.”

Her eyes flew to him. “Is that your answer for everything?”

“Most things.”

“I don’t need you sweeping in like some white knight to rescue me from my boss.”

“Don’t you?”

“No.” She appeared startled at the sound of the word. “That’s the second time I’ve said that today.
No
. No I don’t want you to try and save me or ruin Cass or anything else that ridiculous.”

“Pardon?” Iain Chapman was never ridiculous, not even when he was wankered from drinking a pint too many. “Wanting to help you isn’t ridiculous.”

“You don’t want to help me.” She flung the words at him as she raised her voice. “You want to play with me. You want to fuck me.” Brynn pressed a hand to her abdomen and shut her eyes, trying desperately, he supposed, to get a handle on that glorious fit of pique. When she opened them, she seemed calmer. “We need to stop making this personal. How did you get this information about Cass’s business? For that matter, how did you know where I live?”

“I pay people for data. It wasn’t difficult to find your address. A simple deed search did the trick, I believe. As for TDTC, it took a couple of days to get the records.” He didn’t like admitting that to her. Guilt twisted in his gut, sharp as a knife. After all, his file on Brynn was as thick as a bloody catalog. But the truly interesting bit was that she didn’t doubt his word, didn’t ask to see proof that Cassandra Delaney was near the end of her financial tether. On some level, Brynn trusted him—just as she’d trusted him last night. Iain held on to that, even though he didn’t deserve it.

Brynn lowered her bag to the floor. “It seems I can’t quit, unfortunately, so let’s stop dawdling and get to work.”

Now that was just offensive. Iain didn’t dawdle. He was up by four every morning, exercising, reading the financials, and in the office by seven. He was neither ridiculous nor a dawdler. Time to set her straight about a few things.

With long strides, he moved toward her. Her eyes grew large as she took a step backward, her legs hitting the edge of the chair. When he came within reach, he leaned down until his face was close to hers.

“You seem very confused by who I am, pet. I’m not ridiculous or frivolous or fucking stupid. My time is sacred, and today, I’m giving it to you. So you’d best appreciate the sacrifice, yeah? And in the interest of total disclosure, I’m going to kiss you now.” He cupped her shoulders and, keeping his eyes on hers, lowered his head, bit by bit.

But as Brynn watched him move closer, she grasped his sleeves, clutching at the expensive material. When he was mere centimeters away, she closed her eyes and tilted her head backward. Brynn Campbell wanted this, wanted him. But she was going to fight him every bloody step of the way.

When he didn’t kiss her, her eyes fluttered open. “What? What’s wrong?”

He released her and straightened. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going to kiss you now. I think I’ll wait until you ask me. Nicely.”

Brynn’s arms fell to her sides. She angled her chin toward him and the tendons in her neck stood out. “You’re a jerk, Iain Chapman.”

That put a smile on his face, but he knew she could do better.
Time to dig deeper, Brynn.
“Am I, now? And yet, I had you naked in minutes last night. Doesn’t say much for your judgment, does it?”

As her breathing became more labored, that gauzy shirt brushed against his suit jacket. He wondered if her nipples grew hard with the contact. Lord knew his cock had. She glared up into his mocking face. “You’re awful and pushy and arrogant.”

“Yes. I am. What else?” That ethereal quality mixed with her rage was fucking magnificent.

“And I hate you,” she ground out. She must have immediately regretted the outburst, because her fingers flew to her mouth, as if to shove the words back inside.

Yes, he’d indeed burrowed right under Brynn’s skin, and Iain didn’t plan to let up. “And how did it feel, getting that off your chest?” The same chest where his eyes kept straying.

“I apologize, Iain.” She tore her gaze from him and stared out the window at the wide blue expanse that blanketed the city. “There’s no excuse for that kind of talk in the workplace.”

“I think we’ve already established that this isn’t a normal working relationship, Brynn.”

“You like pushing my buttons.”

“Yes, I do, but you’re right. I should let you get to work.” Iain’s intuition told him to back off. He’d poked at her enough for now. Any more and Brynn might flit out of here for good, no matter how much her boss needed this contract. “Let’s announce what you’re doing here, and then I’ll set you up in the conference room.” He crossed to the door, assuming she’d follow. But when he glanced back, she hadn’t moved.

“I need to assess your needs first. That’s why Delaney was contracted in the first place. We should get your course out of the way. Start at the top and work our way down.”

“We’ll do this my way,” he said.

“You’ve paid us for our expertise—why not utilize it?”

“Another bit of wisdom from a woman who’s never owned a business.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Tell me, out of all of the people who teach these helpful seminars, how many of them have their own companies?”

Brynn nibbled her lips while she considered the question. “I don’t know. I should do an analysis on that. But the fact remains that you still need to complete your leadership training.”

“And I will. We’ll start after lunch.” He held open the door and waited for her to collect her things. Then, with a nod to Amelia, he led Brynn through the outer office.

After clapping his hands and snapping at everyone to gather round, the employees stood near the center of the room, waiting. Iain glanced at Brynn and she nodded encouragingly.

“Right, listen up. You all met Brynn the other day. She’s here to sort out our training needs. Answer her questions and don’t give her any trouble or you’ll deal with me.”

They continued to stare at him.

“Well, that’s it. Get back to work.” He turned to Brynn. “How was that?”

“You didn’t swear, so we’ll consider it progress.”

Iain grinned and led her to the conference room. “I’ll have Ames send everyone in, one by one. You can quiz them to your heart’s desire.”

Brynn took in the wall of heavy curtains. They hid the sun and gave the room a gloomy, depressed air. She set her book and purse down on the long, wooden table and moved to the bank of windows, parting the lined material. “This is an amazing view.”

“Which is why I keep it covered. It’s distracting for the worker bees when I’m in the middle of a presentation.”

She turned to him. “Then why have a view in the first place?”

“It’s all about location, innit? Open them if you’d like, and I’ll meet you back here at noon.” He turned to leave, but before he cleared the threshold, Iain looked over his shoulder. “And, Brynnie, pet, do be here. While I very much enjoy the hunt, I don’t want to chase you down again today. I’ve got a full schedule, yeah?”

Chapter 9

Brynnie. Only her family called her that. When
Iain said it, her heart flipped.

After he left, she felt keyed up—and for good reason. Forcing her into this situation, provoking her into saying hurtful things she couldn’t take back—it was downright devious. Brynn wasn’t given to outbursts, but Iain managed to bring out the worst in her. Since she had to take this assignment, to save not just her own job but her coworkers’ as well, Brynn couldn’t shake him if she tried. Iain was making himself a fixture in her life, and she resented the hell out of it.

Last night, he’d said they were inevitable, but Brynn didn’t buy into fate. She preferred the idea of free will. She could choose to ignore this infatuation with Iain Chapman and not let his good looks cloud her judgment or her emotions to overrule her common sense. Besides, if everything that happened in life was a foregone conclusion, then what was the point? It would mean none of Brynn’s choices mattered, that her mom’s cancer had been predestined, and Trisha Campbell’s five-year battle with the disease meant nothing. That was too depressing to even consider.

She shoved thoughts of her mom aside. It didn’t change anything, and it only made Brynn sad for what she’d lost.

She whipped back the first heavy, green curtain, then the next, until sunlight flooded the room. That was better.

Brynn situated herself in the middle of the glossy conference table. Taking the head would be a position of power, and she didn’t want that, even if she could manage to pull it off. Brynn needed to gain the trust of Iain’s employees. If she could get them talking, get them to contribute, she might be able to help this organization.

As she flipped on her laptop, Brynn’s phone vibrated. Allie’s face popped up on the screen. She probably wanted to make sure Brynn was all right. Allie was a worrier.

When their mom got sick, her big sister had dropped out of college, come home, and slipped into the role of surrogate mother. While Brynn appreciated everything Allie had done, Brynn was a full-fledged adult now. But Allie had a hard time recognizing that fact. Brynn didn’t want to deal with it right now, so she ignored the call.

When a tentative knock sounded on the door, Brynn glanced up. A man in a long-sleeved, white shirt and black tie hovered in the doorway. She remembered him from the accounting department.

“Hi.” Brynn stood. “Thanks for coming in.” She waited until he took a chair before starting her spiel. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about Blue Moon, if that’s all right? And your role in the company.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“Not at all. I’m simply here to see if I can help your organization function more productively.”

The man gazed out the windows. “You opened the curtains. That’s sort of forbidden.”

She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “It’s fine.” Brynn sat in her own chair. “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Dale Thomas. I handle invoices.” His voice cracked. “I’m going to get fired, aren’t I? He hates me.”

“Who hates you?”

“Mr. Chapman. He has this look of disgust every time he walks into the accounting department.” Sweat started beading across the man’s wide forehead.

“You’re not fired. I promise.” Brynn said it with a certainty she didn’t feel. Iain might very well decide to fire this man for any number of meaningless reasons. He instilled fear in his people—not loyalty, not trust, not any of those components vital to a healthy workplace.

As they talked, Brynn checked off the answers on her questionnaire and typed a few notes. Dale enjoyed his job, was on good terms with his coworkers, and liked Marc. But at the mere mention of Iain’s name, he began to twitch. Twenty minutes later, when Dale left the room, his armpits were soaked and he looked a little green around the gills.

The next five people Brynn spoke with seemed just as nervous, if not as sweaty. Their eyes shifted around the room, and anxiety poured off them. They all repeated similar phrases:

“I love working here. It’s very satisfactory.”

“Mr. Chapman is an excellent boss. I love working here.”

“I love my job. It’s a satisfactory work environment. Mr. Chapman is really wonderful.”

They’d rehearsed. It took Brynn time and patience to try and break through the rote answers, and even then she wasn’t entirely successful. It was obvious they were all concerned about their jobs. Working for Iain might be more stressful than working for Cassandra Delaney but without the crazy sex stories.

Brynn had a steep hill to climb. No matter how specialized the curriculum, she couldn’t change a fearful climate. It started with Iain. If he didn’t make some adjustments in his behavior, no amount of advice or training would help.

Finally, after two hours, Marc sauntered into the room. He was the most laid-back person she’d encountered throughout the morning. But his smile didn’t reach his pale blue eyes. He dropped into the chair across from her.

“How’s it going, Brynn?”

She closed her laptop and folded her hands on the table. “I’m okay. How are you?”

He appeared startled by her question. Or maybe by the sincerity in which it was offered. “Fine. Good.”

“Are you sure? It looked like you and Iain were having an argument this morning. I don’t want to pry, but maybe I can help.” What a load of crap. Brynn totally wanted to pry.

“I don’t think so, but I appreciate the offer.”

“Iain said you two have known each other your entire lives.”

Marc’s brows raised a fraction. “Did he, now? What else did he tell you?”

“Not much. He likes to share his opinions about everyone else, but he isn’t as forthcoming with his own personal information.”

“Yeah, Iain drives most people ’round the bend within an hour of meeting him. You’ve still got your composure. You must be made of stern stuff.”

Brynn had never been accused of that before. “What’s he like as a business partner?”

“Depends on the day.”

“He often ignores your advice. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Marc’s lazy gaze drifted to the window behind her. “I like it in here with the curtains open. Brightens the place up.” He glanced back at her. “Listen, love, if Iain’s high-handed attitude bothered me, I wouldn’t be friends with him. He’s a right pain in the ass most of the time, but he’s my best mate going on thirty-some-odd years. He doesn’t always go about things the right way, but he’s not a bad lad. He might come across as a twat, but that’s mostly on the surface. Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s something of a genius.”

Amelia had said pretty much the same thing. What did Iain Chapman do to deserve this kind of loyalty? There must be a secret side to him, a decency he only showed to a select group of people. Brynn wished he’d show some of it to her.

Damn. She was letting her soft heart get the better of her yet again.
Time to knock it off, jellyfish, and get back to business.
“May I be frank with you, Marc?”

“By all means.”

“Your employees are… apprehensive. I think Iain’s fostered an environment of distrust and fear.”

“You’re very kind to put it like that. Truth is, Iain scares the shit out of everyone. ‘Business comes first, everyone’s expendable’—those are words he’s lived by for years. I don’t know how he’s going to change that. It’s who he is.”

Iain didn’t have a problem cutting people, letting them go without a moment’s hesitation. Just like the hostess from yesterday. Brynn’s greatest fear was that Iain would be so fantastic in bed—and out of it—that as soon as she lowered all her defenses, he’d drop
her
like a bad habit. Then where would she be?

When Marc glanced at his watch, Brynn realized she’d been sitting there, not saying a word for the last couple of minutes. “Sorry, I lost my train of thought. Iain didn’t provide me with files on anyone. I’d like to see some stats if that’s all right—performance records, exit interviews.”

“There are plenty of those. Just tell Amelia. She’ll get you everything you need.” Before he left, he dragged his gaze over her face. “You know, I think you might be good for him if you can stick it out.” Before she could comment, he was gone.

What did that mean? Had Iain told Marc about last night? Surely not. Brynn pondered it for a while, then, forcing her thoughts from Iain, finished typing up her notes—although it was a pointless exercise. Iain didn’t think there was anything wrong with the way he treated people.

Brynn could half-ass her way through this entire assignment and charge through the nose. But that wasn’t her style. She was either all in or all out. Whether Iain knew it or not, he needed help. He probably wouldn’t take it, but that wasn’t her problem.

“That’s a mighty fierce look.”

Brynn jumped at the sound of Iain’s voice. He stood in the doorway, watching her, his eyes moving restlessly over her face, her neck, down to her breasts. He sure seemed to like them enough last night.
Stop that.
She had to quit thinking about last night. About seeing him naked.

Rising, Brynn closed her book. “Congratulations. Your employees are afraid you’re going to fire them at a moment’s notice. I talked to six of them this morning and they all looked like they were reading a prepared statement from a hostage video.”

His shrug was casual, unconcerned. “I’ve told you, I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. If they don’t like working here, there’s the door.”

“How many people have you fired in the last year?”

“Couldn’t tell you.”

“How many quit?”

He squinted his eyes in thought. “Several. You’d have to ask HR if you want hard data.” His face smoothed out. “Now come on with you. Let’s grab some lunch. We’ll try the bistro again.”

Brynn began fiddling with her pen. “I should stay and get some work done. You and I need to continue your training today. Though when I say ‘continue,’ I actually mean
start
.”

He walked into the room, hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed. “You started yesterday. In the car, remember?”

“Yesterday, you had several phone calls. While I understand you’re a very busy man, I believe that if we work together, we can complete your training with a minimum of disruption for both our sakes.”

“God, I love it when you talk like a corporate drone. So sexy.” He wore a mocking grin—one she’d come to expect. And Brynn was getting pretty freaking tired of it.

She searched for the appropriate words, a way to get her point across without sounding accusatory. “
I
don’t like it when you make fun of me. You may not value what I do, but
I
believe I’m entitled to a modicum of respect.”

Iain dropped the smirk as his expression turned serious. “I never meant to disrespect you, love. Truly.” He paused a moment, as if carefully considering his next words. “I
am
sorry, and I’ll try to pay attention today.”

Brynn was stunned. She rewound the words in her mind. He’d been alternately mocking her and putting the moves on her since she’d met him. But the word
respect
had triggered a change. It dawned on her then that Iain Chapman was a man who placed a high price on respect. He demanded it from others. Maybe that’s why he didn’t give a damn if his employees feared him. As long as they respected him, it was all good.

Brynn nodded. “Thank you, Iain.”

The smile returned but without the sarcastic hint. “Again.”

“What?”

“My name. Say it.”

She was helpless to do anything but comply. “Iain.” He was different when he was like this. Not softer. There wasn’t anything soft about him, but he seemed more…relatable. Attainable.
Don’t even go there, Brynn. He’s not attainable.

Iain was drop-dead sexy, headstrong, and smart. Sarcastic and blunt, too. Brynn felt utterly drawn to him. She was so attracted that when he looked at her this way—with equal parts passion and complete absorption—fire consumed her body. Not from embarrassment this time, but from desire. Everything about this man, the good and the infuriating, provoked a response.

Iain reached out, beckoning. Brynn felt herself moving toward him, and before she knew it, she stood in front of him and placed her hand in his. This was exactly how she felt last night: entranced, under that crazy spell that Iain wove with the sound of his voice and his confident presence.

He slid his thumb over the back of her wrist. His touch was gentle, but his eyes were full of promise.

Lust. That’s all it was. The body’s automatic response to stimuli. Then why did it feel more powerful? Every time she touched him, kissed him, Brynn felt energized and muddled at the same time.

“You feel it too,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. He brought her hand to his mouth, and instead of offering a chaste kiss, he turned her palm upward and stroked his tongue across the center. Sparks of heat zipped straight to Brynn’s nipples. Her breasts ached for his touch. She’d never had a man do that before. Iain wasn’t just rough around the edges—he was uncivilized, despite all the elegant trappings and expensive suits. And Brynn wanted more of it. She wanted Iain unleashed, in full-on barbarian mode.

BOOK: His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit)
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