Siren Song (9 page)

Trying to tune him out, and ignore the way he was looking at her, she mentally tried to recall which bag she put the information in for that month’s column. Crap, she couldn’t remember. Getting a little nervous, she glanced at her watch. The meeting started six minutes ago.

“
Are you running late, Lexi?” Mason’s voice interrupted her silent plea for the elevator to move faster, giving her another reason for wanting it to speed up.

“
Of course not,” she lied, looking up and seeing there were still three floors to go. If the gods were smiling down at her there would be no one getting on. Of course, being that it was an extremely important meeting, she was running really late and she was stuck in the elevator with a lecherous misogynist, the cart stopped two floors from hers. “Damn.”

Two people stepped on and pushed the button for the ground floor. As the doors closed, she closed her eyes and begged the mischievous gods to let them keep going up. As the elevator started moving, she opened her eyes and realized the gods were spiteful, little bastards. Pressing the button for the floor immediately below their current floor, she waited until the cart came to a lurching stop and the doors yawned open. With a lunge, she stepped off the elevator, hearing the cackling of Mason as it started its trek
upwards
. She was going to have to climb three flights of stairs in heels.

Spiteful. Little. Bastards.

With no other choice, she found the stairwell, pushing the door open and stepping into the other-worldly nothingness of concrete. Clutching the bags, she bent down and took off her shoes, knowing she risked grievous injury if she attempted to scale the stairs in the aforementioned weapons. As she started the journey upwards, she realized that she wasn’t going to be able to stop at her office to drop off her stuff.

“
Hey, Lexi, how many more flights do you have?” Mason’s voice echoed through the hollow stairwell, followed by his maniacal laughter and the sound of the door closing. She was so going to get him for that; just not until after her meeting, which could very well be her last meeting at
lavish
magazine. That would satisfy Mason, even if he didn’t get her job – ‘cause, honestly, who would want to read about the latest stalker techniques or the best places to masturbate in public?

A wry smile parted her lips as she mounted the stairs, not caring that the bottoms of her stockings were going to be filthy. Dima and Cole were going to laugh at her; and after she was done pouring over her horrible morning, she would probably be laughing as well. And then they could make arrangements for a trip to the Caribbean, since it wasn’t likely she was going to have a job after, oh, fifteen minutes.

Finally, she reached the top of the stairs and dropped her shoes to the ground, sliding her feet into the sexy heels. She pushed against the door and nothing happened; it didn’t budge an inch. Slamming her fist against it, she yelled, “You son of a bitch!”

In frustration, she pulled at it. And felt like a complete idiot when it opened. Rolling her eyes at her stupidity, she couldn’t prevent the smile from forming, or the laughter from bubbling up. Dima and Cole were going to give her such grief for that supreme act of idiocy. A laugh escaped just as she stepped through the door of the board room and died almost as quick. Everyone in there was deathly silent; never a good sign.

“
Hey, sorry I’m late, but my alarm failed to go off and almost everything else that could go wrong managed to do so,” she called out, stumbling over to her spot, oblivious to the other people in the room. Pulling out her chair, she set her bags on the table, determined to find the necessary folder she had prepared for the new owner. Burying her head in one of the bags, she pulled out the folder with her notes and smiled. Finally, success first time out!

Someone cleared his throat and she looked up. Thank God the chair was behind her since she was pretty sure her spirit completely left her body for a moment. And a body without a spirit is unable to stand on its two inanimate legs. Her bottom hit the chair with more force than normal and she hoped she wasn’t going to end up bruised.

“
Duncan. Wow, I am so glad we didn’t have sex the other night,” she said without thinking. “Otherwise this meeting would have been really awkward.”

Someone snorted and she heard the words she spoke and flushed hotly. “Not that this isn’t already awkward.”

“
I’m glad you could join us, Miss….” he said, arching that expressive eyebrow, acting as if he had never had his hand on her bare breast or his tongue down her throat. Maybe she was still asleep and this was just an elaborate dream because there was no way in hell that the man standing there acting like the new owner of the magazine was the very same man she almost slept with on Friday and who subsequently disturbed her sleep for the rest of the weekend.

If it were a dream, wouldn’t he be smiling at her right now instead of glowering? And along those same lines, wouldn’t they be getting naked and horizontal? But then, if that were true, why were all of her co-workers there, acting as if it weren’t a dream? Someone nudged her and she grimaced; not a dream. Okay, she could deal with this. “Um, Miss Darling; Lexi. But you know that.”

“
Mmm hm,” he murmured in a non-committal manner. His silver eyes looked right through her and she frowned; how could he act as if he had never met her when they had that Moment? “Would you like to share anything else or can we continue with the meeting?”

He was so not how she expected he would be should they ever meet again. Of course, in the many scenarios she imagined, this was never, ever one of them. The room was still silent and she looked up to see everyone watching her. Rolling her hand in the air, she murmured, “Sure, we can continue.”

“
Thank you,” he said. “Now, as I was saying, I plan on working closely with you over the next several weeks to get the feel for the dynamics of this magazine and to determine which writers will be staying and which ones will not.” And as those words left his mouth, he looked directly at Lexi, sending a familiar fire through her bones. But he was talking about firing her. That would explain that fire analogy. Damn, this was not how she imagined their reunion would be. Perhaps it was that idiosyncrasy that was making her mouth speak without the benefit of thinking first.

With a frown, she met his gaze, “Are you suggesting that I am one of the writers who will be released?”

“
Why are you interrupting me?” Duncan asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest and making her mouth water just a little bit. Reality, Lexi; this is reality. No warm caresses or heart-melting kisses or a simple hello. Just imminent dismissal. Reality sucked.

“
You looked at me,” she explained. She really needed to separate fantasy from reality because in real life, this guy obviously didn’t experience the same earth-shattering connection on Friday night. Or he was furious that she bailed on him after passing out before they ever even had sex. Unfortunately, her body was responding as if he were seducing her with hot words and hotter caresses. “I presume you are going to fire me.”

“
I haven’t made that decision yet,” he said, shifting slightly in his seat as he glanced around the room before meeting her gaze once more. If she looked close enough, she could almost make out a flare of desire in his eyes but it was banked beneath opaque silver.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied his straight-faced expression; not a muscle ticked and his jaw was perfectly relaxed as if she didn’t affect him at all and it kind of pissed her off because her hormones were fighting one another to get closer to the stoic bastard. Her eyes dropped to the hand that rested on the table and as she watched, he squeezed his fingers into a fist and then relaxed them and she smiled to herself. He wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended. “If I sleep with you it won’t be just to keep my job.”

A few gasps filtered into her rebellious brain but she held Duncan’s silver gaze, watching with fascination as it became molten. He spoke through clenched teeth as he bit out, “I don’t sleep with my employees.”

Her lips tilted upwards in an amused smile, “So you’ll fire me just to have the pleasure?”

“
I’m not going to fire you,” he bit out, his nostrils flaring as he continued to glare at her.

Ignoring the sound of someone, probably her old boss Jeffrey, clearing his throat, her eyes sparkled, “Then eventually you
will
be sleeping with an employee; it’s only a matter of time.”

“
Lexi,” Jeffrey murmured next to her. “Stop talking.”

She shrugged her shoulders as she continued to hold his silver gaze through lowered lashes, “Forgive me, Duncan; I just never expected to see you again and to have you show up here as my new boss is a somewhat disconcerting.”

“
You have no idea,” he grumbled, exhibiting the first crack in his smooth exterior. Heaving a sigh, the mask slid back into place and he resumed glaring at her. “Everything – everyone – is going to be given one month, even your… fluff.”

“
Fluff?” she squeaked, offended on behalf of all of the subjects of her articles. Thrusting her shoulders back, prepared to do battle, she asked, “Have you read even one of my articles?”

Working his jaw, he silver eyes flashed, “I don’t need to read it in order to know that it won’t mesh with what I have planned for the magazine.”

“
What? Are you going to make it even more pompous and full of itself? The magazine where fun goes to die?” she fired back. Turning to Jeffrey, she smiled a little sheepishly, “No offense, Jeff.”

The older man smiled but their moment was interrupted by the clearing of a throat, “Lexi.”

“
Duncan,” Lexi said sweetly, smiling at the gorgeous man sitting at the head of the table. Arguing with the man was almost as exhilarating as kissing him and she could imagine plenty of scenarios that included explosive arguments and then even more explosive sex. Her nipples pebbled at the thought of tearing off his suit and pushing him down as she straddled his hard body and punished him for calling her work fluff. And then having him return the favor. During the past few minutes, his silver eyes grew fierier as he continued watching her with horrified fascination. Waving her hand in the air, she leaned back in her chair, “Please, continue Mister?”

“
Tremain,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “
D
Tremain.”

Her jaw dropped open as he told her his name and she felt her stomach flip over on itself. He was Duncan Tremain and she remembered her sisters raving about him at the lunch, she just hadn’t realized that the man they were talking about and the man she had almost had sex with were one and the same. Chewing on her finger tip, she stared at him and tried to remember what they had said but she was coming up blank. It would come to her – eventually. Lowering her hand, she let out a long breath and pasted on a serene smile, even though her heart was pounding furiously in her chest. “Pleased to meet you,
Dee
Tremain; but why do they call you Dee? Isn’t that a girl’s name?”

“
D is short for Duncan,” he ground out, his eyes burning. If they made it past the week without fucking she would be surprised. That is, if he was still planning on giving her a month’s grace period, which seemed less likely now than a few minutes ago. “And while we are at the office you will call me Mr. Tremain.”

“
Will you call me Miss Darling?’ she asked suggestively, her lips curled in a sultry smile as she batted her lashes at him, ignoring the audience that was watching the interaction with interest. “Or Darling Lexi?”

“
God Lexi, you do torment a man!” he bellowed, sitting upright in his chair and pinning her with his silver eyes. “You are making it nearly impossible to let you stay.”

“
So I should pack up my stuff?” She caught her lower lip between her teeth and looked at him with wide, hazel eyes, knowing she projected the image of wounded innocence. And she thought she didn’t want the spotlight; she did, as long as it was Duncan’s spot light.

“
No.” His lips pressed together in a tight line and she was perversely enjoying seeing his civilized veneer crack. She wanted to press harder and watch it shatter, wondering if he would dismiss the other writers before he reached across the table and grabbed her. “Miss Darling. For now. Your job. Is safe. Are there any other questions?”

She bit her lip to keep from speaking but his short, clipped manner nudged her into asking, “Yes. When will I know whether that is a permanent condition or something to shut me up?”

“
If it was a ruse to get you to be quiet don’t you think it would have worked?” he asked, his eyes luminous as he rose from his seat and planted his palms on the table in front of him. He leaned towards her and she felt his presence wrap itself around her bones, even though there was still four feet of table between them.

“
If I thought you were sincere in your offer,” she countered, also rising to her feet and flattening her hands against the table, knowing the advantage she had as a well-endowed woman with a gaping shirt. She smiled as his eyes dipped down. “If I thought you weren’t just trying to appease me.”

“
I don’t appease my employees, Miss Darling,” he ground out, his eyes a liquid silver as they met hers once more. “And I don’t make statements that are untrue. If I say your job is safe, it is.”

“
For now,” she said, unable to help herself. She fell back into her seat, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. “My job is safe for now.”