11. Chapter Eleven
Chapter Eleven
R owan sat on her bed, fuming. “Neanderthal,” she mumbled for the third time. That man did not know how to live around another human being. He sure as hell didn’t know how to treat an employee who was only trying to help his company grow. Kissing someone who worked for him? After reading her the riot act about fraternization? Gerard Barrett was a chauvinist and a—a hypocrite. Oooh! She got up and paced from window to bathroom and back, stopping to stare outside and grateful she didn’t see her boss out front. She wasn’t ready to see him yet. She needed time to think.
Leaning with her shoulder against the window jamb, she ran her fingers softly over lips that still tingled from his kisses. The man absolutely infuriated her, yet her body yearned for him. Her lips parted as if he was about to kiss her again.
How could this have happened? How could she fall in lust with the one man who could make or break her career, her future?
She stared out at the scenery without seeing it, desperately seeking a solution to this unacceptable situation. He’d kissed her, and she’d kissed him back. Embarrassment flooded her cheeks with heat. She’d let that happen, shown him she wanted him. How could she face him? Especially with that oh-so-righteous attitude of his. She could protect herself, damn it.
Unable to calm, Rowan paced the room. Back and forth. Over and over. The more time passed, the more she realized maybe he’d been right. This was his territory, not hers. She was the rookie. Back at the window, she jumped when a deer walked right in front of her with two fawns behind her. They wandered along the edges of the yard, munching on leaves and flowers. How could something so cute be dangerous?
As they slipped into the forest on the other side of the driveway, the buck walked past her window, his thick, velvety antlers looking dangerous even without the sharp points she guessed he would grow into. Rowan took a step back, and the deer turned to the window, gave her one long stare, then bounded off after his family. They’d appeared suddenly and disappeared just as quickly. Could other animals do that? Be there without her knowledge? Show up when she least expected it and not be as tolerant as the deer family?
Maybe she owed Gerard, her egotistical, overbearing, hypocritical boss, an apology. Her gut churned at the idea of having to eat crow. The clock on her bedside table showed it was after nine, and they had a lot of work to get through today, though she had no idea how she’d ever manage to work with him. Her brain put up stop signs and barricades, then her body tore them all down. She’d just need to keep her distance. The conference room at the office came to mind, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized he’d been doing the same thing—separating them. Keeping his distance. Her boss was as attracted to her as she was to him.
This was not good.
Yes, it is, her body reminded her.
No. It wasn’t. She needed to succeed here. To prove she could do the job without innuendo and suspicion following her around.
Distance. That’s what would do the trick. And he’d probably agree after this morning. Rowan took a quick shower, pulled her wet hair into a ponytail, and changed into her baggiest clothing, then went out to find the demon she’d agreed to spend the weekend with.
She walked into the main room, surprised but not surprised to see him already working at the dining table. He didn’t look up, so she walked over and stood on the opposite side. He still didn’t look up, the infuriating man.
“You were probably right this morning,” she said, trying hard not to grind the words out.
He paused, set his pen down, and looked up. “Probably?”
She pulled both lips in, biting hard before releasing them. “I should have been more careful.”
He watched her for such a long time, she squirmed inside, but Rowan held his gaze. Finally, he nodded his head. “Apology accepted.” He turned back to his work.
“Apology?” she said, her voice spiking.
He raised an eyebrow as he glanced her way.
Pull it back, Rowan. You have work to do, and another battle isn’t going to help that. Take the high road. Deep inside, she knew she wasn’t taking that elevated path. She reached for her bag, pulled her laptop out, and sat down across the table. She tried to check emails, then sighed when she remembered there was no Wi-Fi here. That was the reason they’d come.
“Has Michael checked in?” she asked. He had the landline number here.
He shook his head.
“He will before end of day, I’m guessing. What are you working on?”
He paused his keyboard tapping and looked at her. “Give me half an hour to finish this up, then I’ll show you. What you mentioned yesterday about family ties… Do you have graphic skills? Can you work up an envelope for the portfolio? Then, after I get this initial framework done for the prospectus, we can go over what funds to showcase.”
“I do have graphics expertise, and I may already have graphics I can use, but since I can’t download any, I can at least get us a rough draft.”
“Perfect.”
“Okay.” She took a minute to get herself some coffee, since she hadn’t drunk a drop of her earlier cup. “Need a top-off?”
“Yes, please.”
She brought the pot and filled his empty cup. “Cream or sugar?”
“No. Black is fine.”
She opened the fridge to find creamer there. It wasn’t her usual caramel, but the vanilla would satisfy her sweet tooth. She doctored her coffee, grabbed a croissant, and sat back down. She pulled up the folder in which she’d plunked a bunch of Scott pictures and ate while she perused them. There were several of employees and several of family. None of them were perfect, and she’d have to go with royalty-free pictures for the actual portfolio, but she could mock up what she had in mind here.
With her croissant finished, she took a sip of coffee, opened up her graphic design software and dug in. It took her longer than she’d planned, and it was an hour later when she raised her head to find Gerard watching her from his side of the table. His coffee steamed, and he was eating a sweet roll, so he’d gotten up at some point, and she’d never heard a sound.
“I wondered how long it would take you to come up for air,” he said, smiling.
“How long have you been watching me?” Rowan fought the urge to wipe a hand over her mouth and do a visual check to make sure she didn’t have croissant crumbs all over the place.
“Not long. It’s interesting to see how focused you get.”
“Interesting how?”
“You seem to be an all or nothing kind of person. Total concentration on the task at hand.”
That was true enough.
“You’ll have lines before your time, the way you furrow that brow.”
“Lines just add character.” Were they really having a civil conversation about the lines on her forehead?
Gerard glanced away for a moment. “I’m usually around women who spend hours on their makeup and dress to the nines.”
Ouch. He hit her right in her insecurity without even knowing it. That had never been Rowan’s forte. She was more of a throw on whatever clothes were easiest to get to and slap some makeup on kind of gal. She struggled to keep up with the women he described. Another reason to steer clear of the man.
He didn’t like her type.
“It’s refreshing.”
Wait. What? “Did you say refreshing ?”
“Yes.”
Rowan warmed beneath his gaze, which traveled her face, hair, shoulders, and below before returning to her face.
“I figured you were with the kind of woman you wanted to be with.”
He frowned. “Sometimes I have no choice. Sometimes I make errors in judgment.”
Had her “I’m perfect” boss just admitted to making mistakes? She pinched herself under the table even as she wondered why he felt he had no choice. Appearances? Was that what it boiled down to for him?
“You are refreshing,” he continued. “Beautiful in a natural way. Like this morning, without makeup. I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And those curls… I want to touch them, wind them through my fingers.”
Rowan ran her fingers over her ears, not sure she was ready to believe him.
“You heard me,” he said, smiling. “I’m attracted to you. You know that.”
Okay, now her eyes really did widen. “I thought, after dinner at the restaurant, you’d changed your mind.”
“Smoke and mirrors. And self-preservation. You were right that night, and you’re still right. I can’t follow through on…us.”
She wanted desperately to lighten the serious mood, like suggesting there was a medical reason. Anything to keep the finality of this conversation from happening. How could her heart thump so hard and stop beating all at the same time? She didn’t know what to do. Acting on their mutual attraction was an epically bad idea, yet every iota of her being said he was worth the risk.
Gerard was doing her the honor of being honest. He deserved the same in return.
“That could be a problem, then, because I’m attracted to you too.”
“I know.”
There was the arrogance she’d grown used to. She shook her head. “If I did decide to do this, give in to this, umm, mutual attraction, then why can’t you? Follow through.”
He scrubbed his face. “There are a several reasons. The biggest one being what I said the first day I met you.”
“About the fraternization.”
He nodded, and a small chuckle escaped. “I may have said that because I didn’t want to see you with anyone else, in the firm or outside of it.”
“Like Michael.”
He canted his head in acknowledgement. “Like Michael. But it’s also a hard and fast rule I follow. I don’t…date employees. It never ends well.”
“You know that from personal experience?”
“I’ve seen it first hand, and I’m currently in a somewhat precarious position with the board.”
More than a little curious, she wanted to press but held back. It wasn’t her place. And she’d heard the rumors about the board, specifically Richard Silverman, looking for excuses to demean him. Maybe she should rethink her future goal of being part of that group. She’d never been particularly great at politics, and there seemed to be a lot of that, at least here.
“Which leaves us with working together and trying to deny the attraction then.” As much as she wanted to peel back his layers—and clothing—this was the best for her career.
Again, he nodded.
She took a deep breath, stood up, and reached across the table. “Deal.”
He stared at her hand for a long moment, then reached out. As soon as they touched, the heat that suffused her almost made her want to change his mind, to grab onto him and convince him, no matter how bad the choice might seem intellectually. She even glanced at the table, envisioning laptops flying as they were swept away by overwhelming need.
His gaze followed hers, and he groaned. “Don’t even think about it.” He let go of her hand and sank back into his chair, mussing his perfect hair as he ran his hands through it.
Cupping her cheeks to cover the raging heat filling them, Rowan looked away to keep him from seeing. Was she that transparent that he’d figured out where her mind had gone? She sat down, too, trying to get a handle on everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. The intensity of this time with him threatened to overwhelm her. Her body craved what he offered, while her mind dealt her an emphatic no .
The same war was going on inside him, if what he’d told her was true. She believed him, especially after that kiss this morning. She raised her hand to her mouth, rubbing softly to revive the feeling.
“Don’t do that.”
She looked up, her hand frozen in place. He let out a painful sigh, then stood slowly, holding his coffee cup, not afraid for her to see his physical reaction to her. “I’m getting more coffee, then we can go over what we’ve come up with so far.”
She lowered her hand. “Good idea.” Safe ground.
He lifted his cup higher. “Want some?”
“Yes, but I doctor mine. I can get it, after I, umm—” She pointed toward the bathroom.
“No problem.”
She escaped to the bathroom and splashed water over her still-warm face. In the mirror, the woman who stared back at her looked like she’d just run a marathon, except her hair was down. When had she pulled the hairband out? She ran a hand over the long, curly strands she’d never been able to fully tame. Gerard had always been seen with sleek women. Straight-ironed hair or up in some slick do.
But he liked her curls?
Reaching for another hair tie, she pulled it back as well as she could.
And he liked her without makeup?
She grabbed her bag and applied a light coat of mascara and blush.
Anything that would be a hindrance. If he liked it, she needed to do the opposite. It was the only way she’d—they’d—get through this weekend.
Feeling fortified, she went to the kitchen, made a cup of coffee, and headed back to the table, where Gerard had moved to seat himself on the same side as her. She gulped.
“It’s the only way we can show what each of us has done.”
“Agreed,” she said. “But no kissing this time.”
Did his eyes darken for a quick moment before he covered it up? He chuckled. “I’ll try to keep my hands and lips to myself.”
This was not going to be easy. She settled into the chair next to him. For the next several hours, they managed to dive into the project and meld their ideas into a solid proposal. He’d even complimented her on the graphics.
“I was skeptical, but I see your vision now. The company group picture on the front and all the glimpses into family inside… You’re right. It’s a good approach. I think this will work well.”
She damn near beamed, barely holding herself back and nodding her acceptance of his words. It wouldn’t do to give him the idea she actually liked working with him. Rowan smiled to herself and dug back into the job at hand.
By late afternoon, they had miraculously agreed on everything except the flagship fund. They’d reached a stalemate regarding this one final topic.
“I don’t see any reason we can’t use the Drekler Fund,” Gerard said, his hair a mess from his habit of running his fingers through it. Clearly his most used stress signal.
“Have you looked at it lately?” She had hoped and prayed the fund would turn around before she had to have this conversation. No such luck.
“No. Why should I? It’s our best fund and always performs.”
She got up and walked to the front window. The deer had returned, this time with Daddy in visible proximity, nibbling at the shrubs. He lifted his head and looked her with those deep, dark eyes. It’s not my fault. Though Rowan knew the truth. It didn’t matter that it sometimes took months for trends to show in stable funds like this. This was her responsibility.
“It’s trending downward,” she said.
“What?” Gerard joined her.
“I said, it’s down.”
“All funds fluctuate.”
“Not like this. It’s been trending down for two weeks now.”
Gerard touched her arm until she turned to look up at him, squinting, waiting for his ire to descend. Instead, his voice was gentle.
“How is this happening?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been researching it and haven’t found a reason.” The only thing she knew for sure: Her alarms had been tampered with. She kept quiet for now. Until she knew who’d done that and had proof, there were no grounds for putting suspicion on anyone.
Gerard nodded, his voice strained as if he was working hard to keep his frustration under wraps. “We’re close enough to done with this proposal that we need Wi-Fi to finish. Let’s leave tomorrow morning, go directly to the office, and hash out both issues.”
“The fund is my responsibility, and I’m investigating it.”
“You haven’t found anything yet?”
“Nothing concrete.”
“Then we both need to be involved.”
“No. It’s my department. My problem. I’ll figure it out.” Damn, was she about to cry? Willing the tears to stay put, she stared her boss down.
He searched her face, her eyes, her soul. Then, when she thought he’d pull the boss card and overrule her, he just nodded and walked away, confusing Rowan even more.
At the table, he started to pack up his things. “I’ll give you until end of day Monday, then I’m joining the investigation. I’ll get dinner started. Will you make another of your excellent salads?”
“Sure.” Rowan packed up her own work, wondering how in the hell she would figure out the issue with the fund in only two days. And half of the first one would be without access to records since they’d be traveling back.
She was so screwed.
After a dinner of seafood fettucine and salad, Rowan sat alone beside the campfire, staring at the beautiful forest spread in front of her and mulling over the situation she’d gotten herself into. Inside the cottage, Gerard was doing cleanup, something he’d volunteered to do. Dish noise and running water, along with the night sounds of the mountain, lulled her into a contemplative mood. The afternoon had been both eye-opening and frustrating. The fragile truce between them still had super-charged tension that she, for one, couldn’t quite get rid of. No. She wouldn’t think about that. Distraction. That’s what she needed. Work distraction.
Still in her probationary period, two deals had gone sour, and Barrett’s best fund was showing strong signs of instability. Someone had to be sabotaging things, but who? Maybe it had been Tom, but it would all stop now that he was gone.
She didn’t generally have that kind of luck though, and until she could check the company assets, she had no way of knowing how things were going. If they continued to tank, someone else must be doing this, and Gerard would involve himself in the investigation. Which meant her biggest secret might come out, one she should have told Gerard and Emersyn long before this. A secret that would point the finger directly at her, and she’d bet dollars to donuts he would never believe her innocence.
She’d come to care what he thought of her, both professionally and personally. Rowan hadn’t wanted to, but she acknowledged that she did. She should have told him right from the start who she was. If she had, he’d never have hired her. Now, the absence of truth felt like a lie, and her boss would take it that way for certain.
Caught between a rock and a very hard place, she couldn’t, for the life of her, figure a way out. All she’d wanted to do was prove that she had what it took to manage hedge funds. To prove herself. Well, she was doing a bang-up job of that, wasn’t she?
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Rowan jumped, apparently unaware that he had joined her until now. He’d been standing right next to her chair with his coffee, waiting for her to notice. What had put that frown on her face? Him? Or the fund? Either way, he wanted to erase it. He needed to bring her smile back.
She looked up, then quickly away. “Just…sorting my thoughts.”
“Try not to worry about the fund. You’ll figure it out, and there’s nothing you can do until we get back.”
“I know. It’s hard not to think about it.”
He pulled a chair over next to hers and sat down. “You have a keen mind. Working with you has proven that to me. You’ll solve this.” She had proven herself an able and intuitive financial guru. He’d seen that first hand today as she’d held her own in their discussions and work. He admired her more now than he had before. Another dangerous trend for him.
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am. About that, at least.” He’d been thinking about her, about them, all day. They’d worked together so well on the proposal, again while cooking dinner, sitting across the table from her to eat, and even when he’d given her some time alone before joining her at the firepit. Like him, she worried about that bottom line, the self-designated point from which there was no coming back. She tried to hide it, but he saw the worry in the furrows of her brow, the tenseness of her body, and that vulnerability made him want her even more.
To hell with rules and pledges. He wanted this. Wanted to consume her, body and soul, and to be consumed by her right back. He was done fighting this itch he couldn’t get to go away. Taking the plunge, he reached for her hand and held it in his, running his thumb over the top of hers. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He raised their hands, pulling her gaze toward them. “About this, I’m not so sure.”
Large, dark eyes stared at him for a long moment. “I am,” she finally said, then tugged him closer. Her lips touched his, one light kiss, then she paused.
“We’re about to break every rule I’ve set. I want this. I want you, us, together. But I need to hear the words. I need to know I’m not coercing you. That this is consensual.”
“I want this, too, but I need to know you won’t use this against me either.”
They paused, six inches separating him from lips he wanted to crush his mouth to. Until she drew back.
“Got your phone?”