The Alpha's Hunger (2 page)

“Super sexy in that dark, brooding Batman sort of way.”

“Did he say
I’m Stoneman?
” her sister asked, attempting a deep, throaty voice.

She giggled. “I wish I hadn’t had this migraine, because I screwed up my chances at the position by putting my foot in my mouth.”

“I don’t know, Ash. He’s picking you up in the morning. It kinda sounds to me like you have this one nailed.”

She tried to ignore the frissons of excitement her sister’s words caused. “I definitely wouldn’t say that. He’s a tough nut to crack. Totally unreadable.”

“What’s the scoop on him, anyway? He’s South American, right? And he moved here to run the company when his brother died?”

“Yeah, I read in
Business Weekly
that he’s half Latino. His mom was American and that’s where the name Stone comes from. He graduated from Harvard Business School and he’s only thirty. That’s about all I know. The company has sort of languished since Ben’s been CEO, but he refuses to step down and hire someone more experienced to run it even though the board has been pushing for it. He still owns the majority interest, so they can’t fire him.”

“So, you think he’ll get things figured out?”

“Well, he’s smart enough. Some people say he doesn’t care about the company, but I’m not sure that’s true. I don’t know, but I sure would like the chance to get close enough to him to form an opinion.”

“Well, tell him tomorrow when he picks you up.”

“Tell him what?”

“That you really want the job.”

Her pulse quickened just at the thought of sitting beside him in his car again. “Okay,” she said.

“You’re not going to,” her sister accused, probably catching the nervous twinge in her voice.

“No, I will. I will. You’re right. It’s worth groveling over.”

“So, guess who’s coming over here tonight?”

“Ooh, who?”

“Donny. The guy I met at the roller derby meet. Remember I was telling you about him?”

“Of course I remember.” She couldn’t always keep track—her sister was a bit of a serial dater. “That’s awesome. What are you going to do?”

“We’re just going to watch a movie we talked about that night we met.”

“Mmm hmm. Sure you’re just going to watch a movie,” she teased.

“Well, if stuff happens in the dark, I’m not going to call 9-1-1 or anything,” Melissa said with a laugh.

They chatted a little more and she hung up, leaning her head back against the cool porcelain of the tub, the ice tucked up behind her neck. This migraine had better be gone by tomorrow morning because there was no way she was missing out on another ride with Ben Stone.

* * *

The next morning, she changed five times before she finally settled on a short, fitted skirt and silk blouse. Her headache had mostly disappeared, although the aura of it still made her face feel tight and her eyes appear too small. She stood at the window of her duplex, ready to go by 6:45 a.m.

Even so, when the black Mustang pulled up, she snatched up her things and dashed out as if she were late. Ben was just getting out of his car when she came flying down the porch steps to the sidewalk. He stopped, leaning against the car, gazing at her with a speculative look. “Good morning, Ashley.”

“Good morning, Mr. Stone,” she said breathlessly.

She opened the car door and got in, holding her satchel primly in front of her. She suddenly wished she owned a nicer briefcase, not this old leather schoolbag that made her look young and immature.

“How’s your head?”

“Better,” she said, forcing a bright smile.

He scanned her face. “Not quite,” he said.

Her smile dimmed. “Mostly,” she said, oddly defensive.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

Her heart picked up speed. Did the man who never smiled find her amusing? She hoped, rather desperately, that he did.

“So… I, uh, wanted to apologize for that secretary comment I made yesterday. I didn’t mean to sound like a spoiled brat.”

Again, the twitch of his mouth as his eyes slid sideways to meet hers.

She caught her breath when their gazes locked and held, his dark-lashed green eyes melting her with each suspended moment. He looked back to the road and the spell broke.

She exhaled and tried again. “I hope you’ll still consider me for the position. I mean, I’d like to interview for it, or submit my application or whatever the process is…” She trailed off. She wasn’t usually this tongue-tied, but she found the gruff CEO more than a little intimidating. Which was half of the appeal. The other half being his brooding good looks and the power of his position.

“Three o’clock, my office.”

“Really? For an interview?”

He didn’t answer that question, as if he only had a certain allotment of words each day and he didn’t want to hit his limit answering stupid questions from her. She sat back in the seat and watched the skillful way he navigated traffic.

“Thank you for picking me up today.”
Lame, Ashley. Very lame.

He didn’t even look at her this time.

Right.
Keep your mouth shut, Ash.

When they reached the building, he pulled into his reserved spot, right by the elevators.

“Thanks again,” she said as they stepped into the elevator together.

He didn’t answer, but his eyes were on her face again, studying her. Her cheeks grew warm. His mouth twitched. “Where are you from?”

“Oh,” she said, drawing a breath to recover from the scrutiny of his gaze. “Here. Lakewood,” she said, naming the suburb of Denver where she’d grown up.

He nodded.

“Sports? Activities?”

“I took State in swimming in high school,” she offered hopefully.

This won an almost smile.

The elevator arrived on her floor. “Well, um, thanks again. I’ll see you at three. I mean, I’m looking forward to our meeting,” she said, backing out of the elevator.

Only his eyebrow moved in acknowledgment. The doors slid shut and she exhaled, smiling as she walked to her cubicle. She had landed the interview. Now she just had to figure out how to impress him. What did Mr. Stone like in an employee? She feared there was no one at Stone Technologies who knew the answer to that question.

* * *

Ben didn’t have a clue what he would do with a personal assistant. He didn’t like anyone in his business or his space. He didn’t want to hear their whispers or smell their smells. He didn’t want to have to talk to them. What had possessed him to invent a personal assistant job? Ashley Bell, obviously. For whatever reason, he wanted to keep her close at hand.

Her scent still lingered, filling his mind with images of stripping her naked. He wanted to sink his teeth into her shoulder while he plowed into her from behind, hard and fast. But she was human. Hell, even if she was a shifter, with Carlos Sandoval out to kill him, he was not mate material.

He sighed and picked up his phone, asking Karen, his secretary, to make the arrangements to add a workstation to the office next to his.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, knowing better than to ask him who or what it was for.

He leaned back in his chair, put his feet up on the desk, and opened Ashley’s personnel file. It contained very little—her resume, application, references. Well, what had he expected, a life history?

He opened his computer and searched for her name on the Internet. It produced three references—one from her high school swimming championship and two from her college academic achievements. He searched her name on Facebook and perused her photos, which she unwisely shared with the public. The same girl from the photo she’d flashed him in his office appeared in many of them—a sister almost identical to her, except for the cut of her hair. They must be twins. Her relationship status was listed as single and very few guys appeared in the photos, which was fortunate, because he might have hunted down any man pretending to be good enough for her.

Karen called to say his top level management team had arrived for the morning meeting, so he picked up his coffee mug and headed to the conference room.

Jack, his brother’s best friend and vice president of development met him at the door with the same disapproving, pinched expression he always wore. Jack hated that Ben had taken the helm of the company and, in his opinion, was running it into the ground. The programmer had been part of the company since its initial start-up. Jack had helped design the first game software and been at Leon’s side during the lean years, helping him to grow it and get it where it was now.

When Leon died, Ben had thought about turning his share of the stock over to Jack and letting him have the company, just as he’d refused to take leadership of his brother’s pack, but in the end, it didn’t seem right. His brother had left the company stock to him rather than to his wife and young children, which told him something. If Leon had trusted Jack to run the company, he would’ve left the stock to Shayla, presuming she and their children would be cared for. By leaving it to Ben, it meant Leon needed Ben there to look after things, to ensure the profits continued for the benefit of his family. And so Ben was there, running a multi-million dollar company with no experience. But he owed his brother. If he had done his duty in the first place, Leon would still be alive.

He went into the meeting and listened as the team presented their weekly reports, which were dismal, as usual. Suma Games was rapidly taking over Stone’s market share. When he questioned the causes, he got excuses. In the first year, he had believed them, still getting his bearings and the culture of the company. Now he’d come to recognize the bullshit, but he hadn’t figured out what to do about it yet. As he stacked the reports in front of him, he hatched an idea.

When Karen buzzed him that afternoon to say Ashley had arrived, he told her to send her to the conference room. He picked up the reports his management team supplied him with and entered.

She jumped to her feet, knocking her rolling chair backward.

“Sit.”

“Woof,” she said.

He arched a brow, hiding his amusement. No one talked back to him at Stone Technologies, but for some reason, on her, he found it cute.

She blushed. “Sorry,” she mumbled, settling back into her chair. “I was just making a joke…”

He walked around to the seat opposite her, but sat on the table rather than a chair, dropping the sales reports and financial data in front of her. “Sales are down. Costs are up. Find me ten strategies to rectify the situation and you have the job.”

She gaped at him, her blue eyes wide. “Um… okay.” She picked up the papers and began leafing through them. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips and he nearly groaned at the sight.

“You have one hour. Two if you need it.”

She exhaled. “Okay. Got it. Thank you.”

“Thank you,
sir.
”

Her jaw dropped momentarily before she snapped it shut and blushed again. “Thank you, sir. I’m sorry, I don’t know the right etiquette, or protocol or whatever, but I’ll learn. I’m a quick learner.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said, standing up from his perch on the table and walking out.

He left her alone for an hour, then another. At five o’clock he opened the door to the conference room and found Ashley sweating, the reports and papers spread out in front of her.

She jumped up.

“Sit.”

“Woof.”

This time he actually smiled. He couldn’t help it. That she had tried her joke a second time after failing the first showed a confidence and resiliency he admired.

When she caught his smile, her face broke into a wide grin.

Torn between wanting to stare at its brilliance and needing to shut her down before she gained any further footing, he looked down at the papers. “Well?”

“I only found eight,” she said immediately, clicking the top of her pen. “But I’m sure I can find two more if you give me just a little more time.”

He hadn’t really expected her to find ten. Hell, he hadn’t expected her to find more than three. “Tell me what you’ve got.”

Ashley picked up a piece of notebook paper where she’d made a list. “The first one is phasing out the NE3 Game Stations. A lot of money goes into maintaining them, when if you’d just refuse to service them any longer, everyone would buy the E6’s.”

He nodded. The idea had occurred to him as well, but he hadn’t acted on it, mainly because the NE3 had been his brother’s first product, the platform for Robo Shooters, and the company, himself included, clung to it with a sentimental attachment. Hearing confirmation of his instinct from Ashley made up his mind. “Next.”

“Um…” She looked down at her paper. “Costs on a number of these products seem too high, considering what we’re charging. The profit margin isn’t large enough. I suggest we institute a cost reduction team, awarding prizes to engineers or teams who can reduce by the most.”

He liked the way she used the word ‘we,’ if they were already a team. It was presumptuous, yet it sounded right coming from her lips. “Good,” he said, throwing her a bone.

She lifted her eyes at the compliment, then looked at her paper once more. “My third suggestion is to recover the market we lost to Suma Games last year. This is sort of a two-part suggestion, so I counted it as number three and number four.” She raised her gaze again, as if checking to see if he would allow it.

He nodded.

“So, the first would be an advertising campaign. And the second would be product development to compete with their D-boy unit. I understand both of those will require an outlay of capital, but I do think the investment would be worth it.”

He didn’t comment.

“Okay,” she said, drawing another breath. “Number five is to thin out some of middle management.” She stopped, watching his face for a reaction.

“Reasoning?”

“Right. Um, the reasoning is that you have an awful lot of people who sit around here and don’t do anything but tell others what to do and report further up the chain.”

“Speaking from experience?”

She hesitated. “Yes, sir.”

He liked that she remembered to call him
sir.