Читать книгу His By Christmas - Teresa Southwick, Teresa Southwick - Страница 9

Chapter Two

“So do you want the good news first? Or the bad?” Justine asked.

It was late afternoon on their first full day of working together, and Cal was stretched out on the corner group with his broken leg propped on a pillow. He glanced up from his laptop, focusing on his new assistant, who was sitting at the desk. Her red hair was parted on the side and pulled back into a messy side bun. She was wearing black, square-framed glasses that made her look smart and sexy, a one-two punch that had his gut tightening, not for the first time.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “What was the question?”

“I’ve got good news and bad. Are you a get-the-bad-over-with-first kind of guy? Or a put-it-off-as-long-as-possible sort of person?”

“There’s something to be said for both. So...surprise me.” He’d been surprised by many things since she arrived yesterday. What was one more?

“I just received a preliminary environmental report on the wind farm property in upstate New York, and so far there’s no negative impact on the animals, fish or ecosystem in the area affected by the project.”

“Just a guess, but I’d say that’s the good news.”

“It is.”

“And the bad?”

“The people aren’t as open-minded as the wildlife. They’re circulating a petition to squash the project.” She slipped off her glasses. “The land is flat and the turbines are tall, visible for miles.”

“They have to be tall. The higher they are, the more wind is harnessed.” Even he heard the frustration in his voice.

“Protests are in the beginning stages. There may be some things you can do to sway public opinion and get everyone on board with this. Or at least the majority.” She shrugged. “Can’t please all the people all the time.”

What could I do to please her?

Cal couldn’t believe he’d just thought that. He was uncomfortable and it had nothing to do with his broken leg. Working with Justine was disconcerting. She was smart, efficient and seemed to know what he needed before he did. It had gone really well if you didn’t count the part where he wanted to turn the lie about his active sex life into the truth. With her.

Redheads weren’t even his type, but that didn’t seem to make a difference. Maybe it was her eyes—brown with flecks of gold and green. They were different. Exotic. Mesmerizing and calm at the same time.

Beside him on the coffee table, papers were scattered around along with file folders and his cell phone. A half-empty coffee mug was right in the middle of the chaos, like a circus ringmaster. Her desk, on the other hand, was tidy to the point of making his teeth hurt. And it was time to get his head back in the game. There was a lot to accomplish, and one of her responsibilities was to clean up after him. Normally he wasn’t quite this disorganized, but his mobility was limited with the cast on his leg. Work was why she was here in the first place.

“I’ll talk to public relations about the protests and strategies to win over the people,” he said. “Right now, I need you to pull together some alternative energy research. Statistics on the output of wind turbines at different heights. And reports on solar. There’s a parcel of land I’m looking at in Nevada, and that’s the place to go for sun.”

Instead of going along with the directive, his assistant closed her laptop and calmly met his gaze. “I’m happy to take care of that for you in the morning.”

Did he hear her right? Maybe the hard landing from his skydiving misadventure had broken more than his leg. “I’d like you to start compiling it now.”

“If I hadn’t already put in a full day—”

“We stopped for lunch.”

“Yes, and it was incredibly delicious.” Her look was sympathetic. “But I’m officially off the clock now.”

Cal needed to get up and move. The urge to prowl was strong in him, but the plaster on his leg made it problematic, along with reducing the power of the pace as a means to show he was the boss and in charge. That was pompous, but having only one good leg threw him off his game.

He grabbed the crutches and hauled himself to a standing position, then hobbled over to the desk and rested his hip on the corner, letting it take his weight. This wasn’t as effective as looming, but he could still stare her down.

“The fact is,” he said evenly, “I’m always on the clock. There are pros and cons to being the president of a successful company and that’s one of the downsides.”

“So, you’re saying that by extension your assistant needs to always be available?”

“Exactly. I knew you were smart.” And not just another pretty face. But he kept that part to himself.

“Let me ask you this.” She folded her hands and rested them on the unnaturally tidy desktop as she met his gaze. “Is it a matter of life and death for you to have that information this evening?”

“Hart Energy didn’t get to be number one by not being prepared.”

“That’s not what I asked. It was a yes-or-no question.”

Cal was hoping she hadn’t noticed his evasive answer. Buying time, he studied her and couldn’t detect a single sign that she was unnerved. Not a flicker of an eyelash, twitch of her mouth or jump in her pulse. This reaction was as unusual as the shade of her eyes shifting from brown, to gold, to green.

It was a yes-or-no question, but that was irrelevant since he ran the show. “It should be enough that I want what I want when I want it.”

“First of all, that statement comes very close to temper tantrum territory.” The corners of her mouth curved up.

The movement distracted him, drawing his attention to the delicate sensuality of her lips. It was several moments before he realized that she’d called him on his crap.

With an effort he pulled his thoughts together and kept his voice even when he asked, “And second of all?”

“Hmm?” She blinked.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one distracted. “You said ‘first of all.’ That implies there’s a second thing that you wanted to say.”

“Right.” She nodded. “If the reason you’re asking me to work late comes under the heading of life and death, I’m happy to be flexible and accommodate the situation. Otherwise it’s overtime and not part of my contract for this assignment.”

“You have a special contract?”

“Yes. One that has very specific limitations on overtime. It was Shanna’s suggestion after she advised me not to take the job. I could show you the agreement if you’d like.”

Another yes-or-no thing that he was going to sidestep. “So, it’s not enough that there’s more work to do?”

“There always is,” she said serenely.

“I guess it’s pointless to say that since you work for me you’re finished when I am?”

“You’re certainly free to continue working, but I’m off the clock. In the morning I will be at my desk and ready to give my all for Hart Energy. But to be at my best, I need to recharge my batteries.”

Cal had a feeling she was laughing at him, and that tweaked him back into temper tantrum territory. Or maybe it was her calm, unruffled demeanor that made him want to ruffle her. Either way, something had him determined to get in the last word and maintain control.

“I would appreciate it if you would stay and complete the tasks that I’ve requested.”

She stood and met his gaze, drawing in a deep breath and holding it for several moments. “I’m happy to work on it bright and early tomorrow morning. If that’s not acceptable to you, feel free to fire me.”

This was not a good time to find out the problem with temper tantrum territory was that it bordered on cutting-off-your-nose-to-spite-your-face land.

“Don’t think I—”

She held up her hand. “Before finishing that sentence, you should know that no one else who is qualified for the position as your assistant is willing to come here and work one-on-one with you.”

He would deny it if anyone claimed her words stunned him, but that was the truth. Did he really have a reputation for being a difficult boss? A workaholic? Apparently his family thought so or he wouldn’t be in this predicament right now. Were they right?

Before he could come up with a response to the line she’d drawn in the sand, she said good-night and coolly turned away from him, heading for her suite. Staring at her trim back and shapely butt, he was again speechless, but for a different reason. It could have something to do with nearly swallowing his tongue. The woman had a body that would make a man follow her anywhere. Any man but him.

He couldn’t decide whether to be angry at her audacity in challenging him, or in awe of her nerve and composure while doing it. She’d surprised him again and not in a good way. And another thing. Why had he pushed back so hard for her to stay tonight? She was right about the fact that the work could wait until tomorrow.

He refused to believe that it had anything to do with keeping her there so he wouldn’t be alone. Lonely. He was either tired or just being stupid and didn’t know which. Or maybe it was both. That wasn’t a riddle that had to be solved right now and he resolved to focus on what he could handle.

He absolutely could get someone to replace her.

* * *

The next morning, Justine got ready for work. Cal hadn’t fired her, although that was a technicality since she walked away before he could say much of anything. It was certainly possible that he’d fumed all night and was going to can her this morning—face-to-face. But she hoped not. She wanted to open her own yoga studio, and the dream was so close she could practically touch it.

She’d certainly thought it over all night and had no regrets about putting her foot down to keep him from walking all over her. If anyone knew how short life could be, it was her, and no way she was going to burn the candle at both ends for a paycheck. If he sent her packing she’d simply find another way to put together the rest of the money she needed.

And he was supposed to be on vacation, for Pete’s sake!

She looked at herself in the suite’s freestanding, full-length mirror. Her long hair fell past her shoulders, shiny and straight. For work she normally put it up for convenience, but she might not be working much longer. If a small part of her was using every female asset in her arsenal to get on the good side of her boss, well, so be it. That was, of course, presupposing Calhoun Hart even had a good side.

Her silky blouse was off-white, sleeveless and tucked into linen slacks that were long enough to graze the floor even in heels. No chance of showing any bare leg. Plus lightweight enough for this tropical island climate. And professional.

“I am woman. Hear me roar,” she said to her reflection. “Meow.”

With nerves jumping in her stomach, she exited her room and walked, head held high, as confidently as possible into the villa’s main living area. It was early, but Cal was already up. In his khaki shorts and flowered shirt he looked like a tourist. The white cast on his left leg had her heart twisting with sympathy, proof it had not stayed strong and in solidarity with last night’s rebellion.

“Good morning,” he said. “I ordered breakfast.”

Her gaze drifted to the covered dishes on the coffee table. There was an impressive number of them. “I should get to work.”

“You should eat something first. It’s the most important meal of the day.” He poured coffee from an insulated pitcher into a second mug in front of him. “It’s breakfast. Break fast. Fuel your body to maximize performance.”

It seemed as if he was pretending their difference of opinion had never happened, and that was just fine with her.

“I’d love some coffee. Thanks.” She sat in the club chair to his right.

“Cream? Sugar?” He met her gaze.

“No and no. Black is great.” She took the cup and saucer he held out.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked to eat and ordered a little of everything.”

“That’s getting to be a habit with you.” She was teasing. Sort of.

But this showing his nice side was turning into a disconcerting pattern. She’d prepared herself to deal with the driven workaholic from last night, not this softie who was hard-selling a well-balanced, nutritious meal. This guy made her feel feelings she wasn’t at all comfortable with.

“As habits go,” she said, “it’s not a bad one.”

“Full disclosure. It’s not entirely selfless, either.” He grinned suddenly. “A well-fed employee is a productive one.”

A smiling Cal looked younger, more carefree and less tense. And so handsome she could only stare at him. It was several moments before his words registered and the message was received. Employee. As in he was not going to terminate her. The weight of uncertainty lifted and she smiled back.

“I will be so productive that you won’t be able to keep up with me.”

“Is that a challenge, Miss Walker?” There was a gleam in his eyes now, a spark of competition.

“Absolutely.”

“Then you’re on. Eat up.”

Since he’d ordered a little of everything, she sampled it all. Omelet, eggs Benedict, oatmeal and all the trimmings. But the fruit...mango, papaya and pineapple—yum. They ate in silence.

“So you like Blackwater Lake?” Cal finished the last bite of food and set his empty plate on the coffee table.

“Very much. It’s beautiful.” She met his gaze. “But I already mentioned that. There’s a serenity about it. That sounds mystical and spiritual and I don’t mean to be woo-woo weird, but peacefulness is in the air.”

“That’s because you don’t have family there,” he said drily.

“I wish I did. My parents, brothers and sister all live in Texas. They were not happy when I broke the news about the company headquarters moving.”

“Would it help if I apologized to them and did a PowerPoint presentation to lay out my reasons for relocating?”

“So it wasn’t about being closer to your brothers and sister?”

“My parents are still in Dallas, too. So it wasn’t an easy decision.” Absently he kneaded his left knee, as if the muscles hurt. “There’s still a large dependence on fossil fuels, but renewable energy is the future. It’s my gut feeling that overseeing it from Blackwater Lake is the best way to go.”

She wouldn’t be with Hart Energy much longer and his commitment to its future made her a little sad about that. But that was his dream and she had one of her own.

“I can’t eat another bite.” She set her not quite empty plate on the table beside his. “And it’s time for me to get to work.”

“I left a list of what I need on your desk.” His mouth twitched, the only sign that he was thinking about their disagreement.

She stood and nodded. “I’ll get right on it.”

Moving away from the power of her boss’s aura was a relief, and Justine buried herself in the familiarity of work. Reports, spreadsheets, phone calls and research meant she didn’t have to think about the way a smile transformed his face, or how his teasing made her laugh. In the last few years laughter had been a stranger in her world. Changing that started with being her own boss, not bonding with her current one.

Four hours later, Justine was paying a price for burying herself in work. Her whole body was stiff and every muscle ached. Last night’s mutiny hadn’t been only about principle. Working long hours taxed her physically, and her leg needed regular stretching out to keep it from painful cramping.

She straightened in her chair and carefully stood, but couldn’t suppress a wince of discomfort.

“Are you in pain?” Cal’s voice was sharp, but that didn’t hide a note of concern.

She’d thought he was engrossed in work and it surprised her that he’d noticed. That didn’t mean she was comfortable with the fact that he had.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Don’t do that.” He looked and sounded even more annoyed, if possible. “You don’t have to be superwoman.”

To atone for pushing back against a fourteen-hour day. He didn’t say the words, but they still hovered in the air.

“I’m not pretending to be anything. I really am fine. It’s just that if I sit for long periods of time, my leg gets stiff and a little uncomfortable.”

“I assumed you were kidding about competing work output.”

“Yeah, but I also said I work hard while on the clock,” she said.

“I appreciate the effort, but you should have said something.” Now he sounded ticked off at himself.

“I just did. A fifteen-minute break to stretch it out will do the trick. In physical therapy after the accident, I learned techniques to take care of it. I’ll be back shortly—more alert and productive than ever. And most important, it’s relaxing. I’m used to this happening and know exactly what to do.” She half turned, intending to disappear into her room to do what she needed to in order to loosen up the muscles.

“Don’t leave on my account,” he said. “In fact, I might need some of those techniques myself after this cast comes off.”

Justine knew better than most that he had a point about life after his broken bone healed. Learning yoga during her physical rehabilitation literally got her back on her feet. The experience came really close to saving her life and the lesson was so profound, it changed her life. Or rather, her career goals. The dream to open her own yoga studio was conceived through her intense need to pay it forward and help others the way she’d been helped. How could she say no to this injured man?

“Okay,” she finally said. “Just remember you asked for it.”

She moved to a large area not far from the open French doors leading to the patio. She breathed deeply of the humid, tropical air, then released it. Turning, she saw that Cal was watching her closely, and her heart jumped. It was prudent to pretend that hadn’t happened.

She kicked off her shoes and stood barefoot, facing him. “Normally for a session I wear stretchy yoga pants, so I’ll have to wing it in this outfit.”

“Do you want to change?”

“I only have a fifteen-minute break,” she said to the man who’d gone to battle for more work hours. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to show you the tree pose.”

“A tree doesn’t immediately make one think of stretching,” he mused. “Sounds a little like an oxymoron to me.”

“Movements don’t have to be sweeping and dramatic to make a big difference,” she pointed out. “Just stand straight, shifting your weight to your legs and feet. Then bring your right foot up to your left inner thigh. In the beginning it can be challenging to find balance so it’s all right to place your foot on the calf instead.”

“And then?”

“Hold the pose and breathe.”

“And this does what, exactly?”

“Strengthens your legs and back. Standing straight improves posture and works out the kinks from sitting at a desk for long periods of time.”

“That sounded remarkably like a dig. Is it supposed to make me feel guilty?”

“Not unless it’s working.” She switched legs and grinned at him.

“Does that tree pose also turn a person sassy and sarcastic?”

“Just a happy side effect,” she said serenely.

“Hmm. And you were preaching it as a relaxation technique.”

“Indulging sass and sarcasm can be very relaxing.” She finished the pose and had both feet on the floor. “Next we have the triangle pose.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

She ignored that and continued her running commentary. “This opens your chest and improves balance. Widen your stance and turn your right foot to the side, keeping your heel in line with the center of the left foot. Reach one arm out to the side, bend and touch the other to your extended foot. Again, hold and breathe. Repeat on the other side.”

“And is that one relaxing?” There was a slight edge to his voice.

“Are you asking whether or not I feel a zinger coming on?”

“Not really.” He shrugged. “I sort of figured that was a given. I’m actually getting used to it.”

“Bracing yourself is not a relaxed way to be. For your own well-being, pay attention.”

“Right.”

“You’re a skeptic now, but let’s see how you feel when that cast comes off and one calf is half the size of the other because the muscles are atrophied from not being used.”

“Have you got a move for that?”

“As a matter of fact...warrior one.”

“Battle?” One of his eyebrows rose. “Seriously? I am actually more than a little skeptical of that being relaxing. Or helpful.”

“Watch and learn, little grasshopper.” She gave him a smirk. “This is for power and strength in the body. Stand straight, then move your left leg backward. Bend your right knee and turn your left foot slightly inward. Then raise your arms above you, stretching as high as you can, feeling that stretch into your fingertips. Hold and breathe. Again, repeat on the other side.”

Justine lost herself in the pose, concentrating on her breathing and stretching. When she was finished, she felt refreshed and ready to resume working. The technique never failed to relax her. But one look at Cal told her the yoga lesson had the opposite effect on him.

His mouth was pulled tight and there was tension in the line of his jaw. But the expression in his eyes threw her completely off balance. Since her husband had died in the car accident, no man had looked at her the way Cal was now. As if he wanted her more than his next breath.