Controlled Response
Page 10

"No, you can't. You don't have a man you trust near enough to take you over, force you to let go," he said quietly. "Be honest with me, but don't be defensive. If you don't want me, just say so."
She gave a bitter chuckle, his words scraping raw nerves. "Men always think it's that easy. It isn't about what I want."
"It is, for this. I'm not going to mess with your business here, or who you feel you need to be. But play with me. Enjoy the game." His hand reached over the stall, brushed her hair, his knuckle following her temple before threading through the soft strands. It made her want to tilt into his touch.
Now, who's not being honest? She knew the last thing he considered this was a game. But he wasn't wrong. Neither was she, which meant she needed to concede she couldn't handle it and walk away. But she'd been fighting to win for so long, she wasn't sure how to admit failure. Particularly not right now, when her defenses felt totaled.
She came out of the stall so he no longer loomed over her and moved to the counter, retrieving a brush from her things. "And if I refuse to play?"
"I hound you relentlessly until you agree I'm the man you want to spend the rest of your life with."
"Well, there you have it. You overplayed your hand. If I agreed you were, the game would be over, because you'd run out of here like a scared dog."
At his silence, she raised her gaze to the mirror, and met his. Gray, steady, unflinching.
"Try me," he said.
Putting the brush back into her bag with a careful, precise movement, she stared at it for a long minute. "You attract me, Lucas. I can't lie about that, so no point in trying. I'll take the game you're offering. But no matter who wins or loses"—she found the courage to lift her eyes now, lock with his in the mirror—"when these two days are done, I walk away and you let me. No arguments, no persuasions of any kind. That's the only way I'll agree, because you and I both know I don't really have to agree to any of this."
"Persuasions of any kind? Would you like to elaborate on that clause? In case I'm fuzzy on what—"
She bit back a smile again, despite herself. "I'm not going to orate a Penthouse letter for you, Mr. Adler." She sobered. "But I will have your word on it. I know you stand by that."
"Deal," Lucas said at last. He didn't like it, but he'd manage the risk, rely on his negotiation skills to get her to change the terms.
"All right, then. Let's get to work." Giving her jacket one last tug to smooth it, she picked up her small makeup bag and stepped toward the door. Before she could reach for the handle, Lucas stepped forward, flipped the lock, and opened it for her. Just as his mother had taught him to do.
It was going to be a hell of an afternoon.
Four
For the next few hours, true to his word, nothing Lucas did or said indicated there was anything but a friendly business acquaintanceship between them.
It was maddening.
He'd roused a humming need in her body she couldn't seem to switch off now. She resented his apparent ease, slipping back into his corporate mode, even knowing she was presenting the same facade. Only she knew hers was a facade. He might consider it dirty tactics, but occasionally she offered a sneaky bit of leg or cleavage, just to see if his eyes would shift, if she'd catch a glimpse of the brutal passion mixed with sensuality she'd witnessed earlier. She didn't.
Matt, Peter, Jon, and Ben came and went at different intervals as needed, supplying answers to questions, insights. As the afternoon waned to evening, they had spreadsheets and faxes, as well as bundles of past history on both companies, scattered across the table. Initial contract terms were sketched out on the electronic dry erase boards, and they were neck and neck by dusk. Four to four. They'd both secured things they'd wanted, but in each instance it was clear who'd received the best benefit of the decision.
They kept the admins busy, and she'd contacted Johnson's New York team several times for downloads to Alice's computer. They conferenced with Johnson as well, even bringing Matt in for a spirited debate with him where her admiration for K&A's leader increased exponentially. He backed the irascible Johnson into a corner, then allowed Lucas to move in with diplomacy to smooth it out, while she protected her client's interests and made sure their overwhelming abilities didn't leave him naked and shivering. She managed it, proud and nearly exhausted by the accomplishment, because it took the skills of a chess champion. The K&A team obviously would never need the skills of her consulting group.
The last point involved management of the main plant. As they compared people, it became depressingly obvious who had the edge in experience and skill. It was the K&A man, but Matt was willing to allow Johnson's man to be assistant plant manager.
At eight o'clock, they were all back in the board room, on conference with Johnson.
When they were done and the line disconnected, Matt glanced at Cassandra. "I'm glad you felt that was a win-win for all of us."
She shrugged, managing a cool smile. "We want the plant to succeed. Having it managed by the best person, with the resources of the next best candidate at his disposal, can only be beneficial to both parties."
"I'd call this day a draw, which is the best scenario possible." He flashed a smile. "That is, if I can't win."
"Is that what you'd call it, Cassandra?"
Cass directed her attention to Lucas, sitting directly across from her. He'd asked the question with casual interest, while she knew it for the loaded weapon it was. She did and didn't want to take the out Matt had just offered her, and neither inclination had anything to do with professionalism. However, she forced herself to answer based on it.
"No," she said. "Its not a draw. I'd call that one a point for your side, Mr. Adler."
Lucas inclined his head, giving her some small gratification at the flash of surprise, followed by respect, in his face. But what did he have to lose? Of course the bastard could control his lust, despite the fact he'd gotten no relief. After all, he could ravish a woman in his own office if he wanted to do so. Despite his protests to the contrary, he probably had sex on a nightly basis with any one of the women the social registers reported him escorting, another less welcome fact she'd gleaned from the online search.
She would have to accept Lucas's challenge for tomorrow, because her reputation had to stay intact. Everything had to stay intact. The way to beat him was to walk away without a hair out of place, no matter what claw-and-scream-herself-hoarse orgasm he managed to wrest from her. If she could do that, it would be another victory for her self-control.
Another notch for her very lonely bed.
Matt and the rest of the team had somehow slipped out of the room, leaving her and Lucas facing each other. Disconcerted, not sure how they'd managed that, unless her mind was deep in places it shouldn't be, she rose, sliding on her jacket.
"Cassandra, you did well today."
"Why, thank you. Your approval makes me all a-flutter."
His lips did that sensual twist, the precursor to a smile. "You'll honor our bet."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"A lot of women would try to back out when they're this scared."
"I'm not scared of you."
As he rose from the table and came around it, Cassandra stayed still to prove it, though her pulse rate increased. The situation called for a catty response, followed by a saunter out of view. A quick saunter. When she looked at him, she recalled tigers on the Discovery Channel about to leap on a herd of gazelles. Those tigers had the same deceptively relaxed movement he had now. It aroused her, just the idea that they might be about to cross blades some more. Fencing, dancing, even board negotiations—they were all forms of sex, done right. But while she'd used sex appeal as one of her weapons, she'd always kept sex out of the equation. With Lucas, she didn't think that could be an option.
The challenge in his eye thrilled her.
"You got what you wanted today because it was reasonable. Not because I was female and overwhelmed by the K&A charm."
He kept moving, didn't respond or engage until he reached her. She stood in the doorway.
Behind her was a hall that was a short walk to the admins office. She could hear Matt and the team talking. As far as she knew, they were speaking gibberish, for Lucas laid an arm against the frame, leaning into her so her back came against' it, straight and rigid as her own stance.
"I'd agree with that. I'd also agree you're not afraid of me, not on the surface." His fingers touched her cheek, slid along the corner of her mouth, reminding her of the tie's restraint, then on to the line of her chin, so she lifted it. Keeping his eyes on hers, he let his fingers descend, stroke her throat, using one light knuckle, making her lift her chin further.
"Underneath, there's so much going on. You're an orchestra. A slight breath, a flush to your skin." His lips were just over her right cheekbone, an inch or so from her mouth, his breath touching her. His body, so close. "You're all about control. Denial. It's enough to drive the man who wants to dominate you fucking insane."
"No man controls me."
"I didn't say control. A man who sexually dominates a woman, who demands her submission, does so to free her. Lets her fully embrace the passion and need locked inside of her."
His finger was cruising down her sternum, moving at the pace of a boat floating down the Mississippi, baking the occupant in a lazy summer sun. He slipped the top button of her blouse. She could hear Matt speaking to Alice, his assistant. Jon, Peter, and Ben were still with him. She should shrug away, slap Lucas's face, but his finger was caressing the cleft between her lifted and compressed breasts, teasing her nerve endings as powerfully as his words.
"Let's test that control." Lucas murmured it. "Lift your chin as high as you can and hold it there for ten seconds. Then you can push me away, slap my face, whatever's going through that incredibly ordered brain of yours."