Bared to You - Chapter 2

His tie was silver and his shirt brilliantly white, the
stark absence of color emphasizing those
amazing blue irises. Standing there with his jacket
open and his hands shoved casually into his
pants’ pockets, the sight of him was like running
smack into a wall I hadn’t known was there.
I jerked to a halt, my gaze riveted to the man
who was even more striking than I’d remembered.
I had never seen hair that purely black. It was
glossy and slightly long, the ends drifting over his
collar. That sexy length was the crowning touch of
bad boy hotness over the successful
businessman, like whipped cream topping on a
hot fudge brownie sundae. As my mother would
say, only rogues and raiders had hair like that.
My hands clenched against the urge to touch it,
to see if it felt like the rich silk it resembled.
The doors began to close. He took an easy
step forward and pressed a button on the panel to
hold them open. “There’s plenty of room for both
of us, Eva.”
The sound of that smoky, implacable voice
broke me out of my momentary daze. How did he
know my name?
Then I remembered that he’d picked up my ID
card when I’d dropped it in the lobby. For a
second, I debated telling him I was waiting for
someone so I could take another car down, but my
brain lurched back into action.
What the hell was wrong with me? Clearly he
worked in the Crossfire. I couldn’t avoid him every
time I saw him and why should I? If I wanted to get
to the point where I could look at him and take his
hotness for granted, I needed to see him often
enough that he became like furniture.
Ha! If only.
I stepped into the car. “Thank you.”
He released the button and stepped back
again. The doors closed and the elevator began
its descent.
I immediately regretted my decision to share
the car with him.
Awareness of him prickled across my skin. He
was a potent force in such a small enclosure,
radiating a palpable energy and sexual
magnetism that had me shifting restlessly on my
feet. My breathing became as ragged as my
heartbeat. I felt that inexplicable pull to him again,
as if he exuded a silent demand that I was
instinctively attuned to answering.
“Enjoy your first day?” he asked, startling me.
His voice resonated, flowing over me in a
seductive rhythm. How the hell did he know it was
my first day?
“Yes, actually,” I answered evenly. “How was
yours?”
I felt his gaze slide over my profile, but I kept my
attention trained on the brushed aluminum
elevator doors. My heart was racing in my chest,
my stomach quivering madly. I felt jumbled and off
my game.
“Well, it wasn’t my first,” he replied with a hint of
amusement. “But it was successful. And getting
better as it progresses.”
I nodded and managed a smile, having no idea
what that was supposed to mean. The car slowed
on the twelfth floor and a friendly group of three
got on, talking excitedly among themselves. I
stepped back to make room for them, retreating
into the opposite corner of the elevator from Dark
and Dangerous. Except he sidestepped along
with me. We were suddenly closer than we’d been
before.
He adjusted his perfectly knotted tie, his arm
brushing against mine as he did so. I sucked in a
deep breath, trying to ignore my acute awareness
of him by concentrating on the conversation taking
place in front of us. It was impossible. He was just
s o there. Right there. All perfect and gorgeous
and smelling divine. My thoughts ran away from
me, fantasizing about how hard his body might be
beneath the suit, how it might feel against me,
how well-endowed—or not—he might be…
When the car reached the lobby, I almost
moaned in relief. I waited impatiently as the
elevator emptied and the first chance I got, I took
a step forward. His hand settled firmly at the small
of my back and he walked out beside me,
steering me. The sensation of his touch on such a
vulnerable place rippled through me.
We reached the turnstiles and his hand fell
away, leaving me feeling oddly bereft. I glanced at
him, trying to read him, but although he was
looking at me, his face gave nothing away.
“Eva!”
The sight of Cary lounging casually against a
marble column in the lobby shifted everything. He
was wearing jeans that showcased his mile-long
legs and an oversized sweater in soft green that
emphasized his eyes. He easily drew the attention
of everyone in the lobby. I slowed as I approached
him and the sex god passed us, moving through
the revolving door and sliding fluidly into the back
of the chauffeured black Bentley SUV I’d seen at
the curb the evening before.
Cary whistled as the car pulled away. “Well,
well. From the way you were looking at him, that
was the guy you told me about, right?”
“Oh, yeah. That was definitely him.”
“You work together?” Linking arms with me,
Cary tugged me out to the street through the
stationary door.
“No.” I stopped on the sidewalk to change into
my walking flats, leaning into him as pedestrians
flowed around us. “I don’t know who he is, but he
asked me if I’d had a good first day, so I better
figure it out.”
“Well…” He grinned and supported my elbow
as I hopped awkwardly from one foot to the other.
“No idea how anyone could get any work done
around him. My brain sort of fried for a minute.”
“I’m sure that’s a universal effect.” I
straightened. “Let’s go. I need a drink.”
The next morning arrived with a slight throbbing at
the back of my skull that mocked me for having
one too many glasses of wine. Still, as I rode the
elevator up to the twentieth floor, I didn’t regret the
hangover as much as I should have. My choices
were either too much alcohol or a whirl with my
vibrator, and I was damned if I’d have a batteryprovided
orgasm starring Dark and Dangerous.
Not that he’d know or even care that he made me
so horny I couldn’t see straight, but I’d know and I
didn’t want to give the fantasy of him the
satisfaction.
I dropped my stuff in the bottom drawer of my
desk and when I saw that Mark wasn’t in yet, I
grabbed a cup of coffee and returned to my
cubicle to catch up on my new favorite ad-biz
blogs.
“Eva!”
I jumped when he appeared beside me, his grin
a flash of white against his smooth dark skin.
“Good morning, Mark.”
“Is it ever. You’re my lucky charm, I think. Come
into my office. Bring your tablet. Can you work late
tonight?”
I followed him over, catching on to his
excitement. “Sure.”
“I’d hoped you’d say that.” He sank into his
chair.
I took the one I’d sat in the day before and
quickly opened a notepad program.
“So,” he began, “we’ve received an RFP for
Kingsman Vodka and they mentioned me by
name. First time that’s ever happened.”
“Congratulations!”
“I appreciate that, but let’s save them for when
we’ve actually landed the account. We’ll still have
to bid, if we get past the request for proposal
stage, and they want to meet with me tomorrow
evening.”
“Wow. Is that timeline usual?”
“No. Usually they’d wait until we had the RFP
finished before meeting with us, but Cross
Industries recently acquired Kingsman and C.I.
has dozens of subsidiaries. That’s good business
if we can get it. They know it and they’re making
us jump through hoops, the first of which is
meeting with me.”
“Usually there would be a team, right?”
“Yes, we’d present as a group. But they’re
familiar with the drill—they know they’ll get the
pitch from a senior executive, then end up working
with a junior like me—so they picked me out and
now they want to vet me. But to be fair, the RFP
provides a lot more information than it asks for in
return. It’s as good as a brief, so I really can’t
accuse them of being unreasonably demanding,
just meticulous. Par for the course when dealing
with Cross Industries.”
He ran a hand over his tight curls, betraying the
pressure he felt. “What do you think of Kingsman
vodka?”
“Uh…well…Honestly, I’ve never heard of it.”
Mark fell back in his chair and laughed. “Thank
God. I thought I was the only one. Well, the plus
side is there’s no bad press to get over. No news
can be good news.”
“What can I do to help? Besides research
vodka and stay late?”
His lips pursed a moment as he thought about
it. “Jot this down…”
We worked straight through lunch and long after
the office had emptied, going over some initial
data from the strategists. It was a little after seven
when Mark’s smartphone rang, startling me with
its abrupt intrusion into the quiet.
Mark activated the speaker and kept working.
“Hey, baby.”
“Have you fed that poor girl yet?” demanded a
warm masculine voice over the line.
Glancing at me through his glass office wall,
Mark said, “Ah…I forgot.”
I looked away quickly, biting my lower lip to hide
my smile.
A snort came clearly across the line. “Only two
days on the job, and you’re already overworking
her and starving her to death. She’s going to quit.”
“Shit. You’re right. Steve, honey—”
“Don’t ‘Steve honey’ me. Does she like
Chinese?”
I gave Mark the thumbs-up.
He grinned. “Yes, she does.”
“All right. I’ll be there in twenty. Let security know
I’m coming.”
Almost exactly twenty minutes later, I buzzed
Steven Ellison through the waiting area doors. He
was a juggernaut of a fellow, dressed in dark
jeans, scuffed work boots, and a neatly pressed
button-down shirt. Red-haired with laughing blue
eyes, he was as good-looking as his partner was,
just in a very different way. The three of us sat
around Mark’s desk and dumped kung pao
chicken and broccoli beef onto paper plates,
added helpings of sticky white rice, and then dug
in with chopsticks.
I discovered that Steven was a contractor, and
that he and Mark had been a couple since
college. I watched them interact and felt awe and
a dash of envy. Their relationship was so
beautifully functional that it was a joy to spend time
with them.
“Damn, girl,” Steven said with a whistle, as I
went for a third helping. “You can put it away.
Where does it go?”
I shrugged. “To the gym with me. Maybe that
helps…?”
“Don’t mind him,” Mark said, grinning. “Steven’s
just jealous. He has to watch his girlish figure.”
“Hell.” Steven shot his partner a wry look. “I
might have to take her out to lunch with the crew. I
could win money betting on how much she can
eat.”
I smiled. “That could be fun.”
“Ha. I knew you had a bit of a wild streak. It’s in
your smile.”
Looking down at my food, I refused to let my
mind wander into memories of just how wild I’d
been in my rebellious, self-destructive phase.
Mark saved me. “Don’t harass my assistant.
And what do you know about wild women
anyway?”
“I know some of them like hanging out with gay
men. They like our perspective.” His grin flashed.
“I know a few other things, too. Hey…don’t look so
shocked, you two. I wanted to see if hetero sex
lived up to the hype.”
Clearly this was news to Mark, but from the
twitching of his lips, he was secure enough in their
relationship to find the whole exchange amusing.
“Oh?”
“How’d that work out for you?” I asked bravely.
Steven shrugged. “I don’t want to say it’s
overrated, ’cause clearly I’m the wrong
demographic and I had a very limited sampling,
but I can do without.”
I thought it was very telling that Steven could
relate his story in terms Mark worked with. They
shared their careers with each other and listened,
even though their chosen fields were miles apart.
“Considering your present living arrangement,”
Mark said to him, catching up a stem of broccoli
with his chopsticks, “I’d say that’s a very good
thing.”
By the time we finished eating, it was eight and
the cleaning crew had arrived. Mark insisted on
calling me a cab.
“Should I come in early tomorrow?” I asked.
Steven bumped shoulders with Mark. “You
must’ve done something good in a past life to
score this one.”
“I think putting up with you in this life qualifies,”
Mark said dryly.
“Hey,” Steven protested, “I’m housebroken. I put
the toilet seat down.”
Mark shot me an exasperated look that was
warm with affection for his partner. “And that’s
helpful how?”
Mark and I scrambled all day Thursday to get
ready for his four o’clock with the team from
Kingsman. We grabbed an information-packed
lunch with the two creatives who would be
participating in the pitch when it got to that point in
the process; then we went over the notes on
Kingsman’s Web presence and existing social
media outreach.
I got a little nervous when three thirty rolled
around because I knew traffic would be a bitch,
but Mark kept working after I pointed out the time.
It was quarter to four before he bounded out of his
office with a broad smile, still shrugging into his
jacket. “Join me, Eva.”
I blinked up at him from my desk. “Really?”
“Hey, you worked hard on helping me prep.
Don’t want you want to see how it goes?”
“Yes, absolutely.” I pushed to my feet. Knowing
my appearance would be a reflection on my boss,
I smoothed my black pencil skirt and straightened
the cuffs of my long-sleeved silk blouse. By a
random twist of fate, my crimson shirt perfectly
matched Mark’s tie. “Thank you.”
We headed out to the elevators and I was
briefly startled when the car went up instead of
down. When we reached the top floor, the waiting
area we stepped into was considerably larger and
more ornate than the one on the twentieth.
Hanging baskets of ferns and lilies fragranced the
air and a smoky glass security entrance was
sandblasted with Cross Industries in a bold,
masculine font.
We were buzzed in, and then asked to wait a
moment. Both of us declined an offer of water or
coffee, and less than five minutes after we arrived,
we were directed to a closed conference room.
Mark looked at me with twinkling eyes as the
receptionist reached for the door handle.
“Ready?”
I smiled. “Ready.”
The door opened and I was gestured in first. I
made sure to smile brightly as I stepped inside…
a smile that froze on my face at the sight of the
man rising to his feet at my entrance.
My abrupt stop bottlenecked the threshold and
Mark ran into my back, sending me stumbling
forward. Dark and Dangerous caught me by the
waist, hauling me off my feet and directly into his
chest. The air left my lungs in a rush, followed
immediately by every bit of common sense I
possessed. Even through the layers of clothing
between us, his biceps were like stone beneath
my palms, his stomach a hard slab of muscle
against my own. When he sucked in a sharp
breath, my nipples tightened, stimulated by the
expansion of his chest.
Oh no. I was cursed. A rapid-fire series of
images flashed through my mind, showcasing a
thousand ways I could stumble, fall, trip, skid, or
crash in front of the sex god over the days, weeks,
and months ahead.
“Hello again,” he murmured, the vibration of his
voice making me ache all over. “Always a
pleasure running into you, Eva.”
I flushed with embarrassment and desire,
unable to find the will to push away despite the
two other people in the room with him. It didn’t
help that his attention was solely on me, his hard
body radiating that arresting impression of
powerful demand.
“Mr. Cross,” Mark said behind me. “Sorry about
the entrance.”
“Don’t be. It was a memorable one.”
I wobbled on my stilettos when Cross set me
down, my knees weakened from the full body
contact. He was dressed in black again, with both
his shirt and tie in a soft gray. As always, he
looked too good.
What would it be like to be that amazing
looking? There was no way he could go anywhere
without causing a disturbance.
Reaching out, Mark steadied me and eased
me back gently.
Cross’s gaze stayed focused on Mark’s hand at
my elbow until I was released.
“Right. Okay then.” Mark pulled himself
together. “This is my assistant, Eva Tramell.”
“We’ve met.” Cross pulled out the chair next to
his. “Eva.”
I looked to Mark for guidance, still recovering
from the moments I’d spent plastered against the
sexual superconductor in Fioravante.
Cross leaned closer and ordered quietly, “Sit,
Eva.”
Mark gave a brief nod, but I was already
lowering into the chair at Cross’s command, my
body obeying instinctively before my mind caught
up and objected.
I tried not to fidget for the next hour as Mark was
grilled by Cross and the two Kingsman directors,
both of whom were attractive brunettes in elegant
pantsuits. The one in raspberry was especially
enthusiastic about garnering Cross’s attention,
while the one in cream focused intently on my
boss. All three seemed impressed by Mark’s
ability to articulate how the agency’s work—and
his facilitation of it with the client—created
provable value for the client’s brand.
I admired how cool Mark remained under
pressure—pressure exerted by Cross, who easily
dominated the meeting.
“Well done, Mr. Garrity,” Cross praised lightly
as they wrapped things up. “I look forward to
going over the RFP when the time comes. What
would entice you to try Kingsman, Eva?”
Startled, I blinked. “Excuse me?”
The intensity of his gaze was searing. It felt as if
his entire focus was on me, which only reinforced
my respect for Mark, who’d had to work under the
weight of that stare for an hour.
Cross’s chair was set perpendicular to the
length of the table, facing me head-on. His right
arm rested on the smooth wooden surface, his
long elegant fingers stroking rhythmically along the
top. I caught a glimpse of his wrist at the end of
his cuff and for some crazy reason the sight of that
small expanse of golden skin with its light dusting
of dark hair made my clit throb for attention. He
was just so…male.
“Which of Mark’s suggested concepts do you
prefer?” he asked again.
“I think they’re all brilliant.”
His beautiful face was impassive when he said,
“I’ll clear the room to get your honest opinion, if
that’s what it takes.”
My fingers curled around the ends of my chair’s
armrests. “I just gave you my honest opinion, Mr.
Cross, but if you must know, I think sexy luxury on
a budget will appeal to the largest demographic.
But I lack—”
“I agree.” Cross stood and buttoned his jacket.
“You have a direction, Mr. Garrity. We’ll revisit next
week.”
I sat for a moment, stunned by the breakneck
pace of events. Then I looked at Mark, who
seemed to be wavering between astonished joy
and bewilderment.
Rising to my feet, I led the way to the door. I was
hyperaware of Cross walking beside me. The way
he moved, with animal grace and arrogant
economy, was a major turn-on. I couldn’t imagine
him not fucking well and being aggressive about
it, taking what he wanted in a way that made a
woman wild to give it to him.
Cross stayed with me all the way to the bank of
elevators. He said a few things to Mark about
sports, I think, but I was too focused on the way I
was reacting to him to care about the small talk.
When the car arrived, I breathed a sigh of relief
and hastily stepped forward with Mark.
“A moment, Eva,” Cross said smoothly, holding
me back with a hand at my elbow. “She’ll be right
down,” he told Mark, as the elevator doors closed
on my boss’s astonished face.
Cross said nothing until the car was on its way
down; then he pushed the call button again and
asked, “Are you sleeping with anyone?”
The question was asked so casually it took a
second to process what he’d said.
I inhaled sharply. “Why is that any business of
yours?”
He looked at me and I saw what I’d seen the
first time we’d met—tremendous power and
steely control. Both of which had me taking an
involuntary step back. Again. At least I didn’t fall
this time; I was making progress.
“Because I want to fuck you, Eva. I need to
know what’s standing in my way, if anything.”
The sudden ache between my thighs had me
reaching for the wall to maintain my balance. He
reached out to steady me, but I held him at bay
with an uplifted hand. “Maybe I’m just not
interested, Mr. Cross.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips and made
him impossibly more handsome. Dear God…
The ding that signaled the approaching elevator
made me jump, I was strung so tight. I’d never
been so aroused. Never been so scorchingly
attracted to another human being. Never been so
offended by a person I lusted after.
I stepped into the elevator and faced him.
He smiled. “Until next time, Eva.”
The doors closed and I sagged into the brass
handrail, trying to regain my bearings. I’d barely
pulled myself together when the doors opened
and revealed Mark pacing in the waiting area on
our floor.
“Jesus, Eva,” Mark muttered, coming to an
abrupt halt. “What the hell was that?”
“I have no freakin’ clue.” I exhaled in a rush,
wishing I could share the confusing, irritating
exchange I’d had with Cross, but well aware that
my boss wasn’t the appropriate outlet. “Who
cares? You know he’s going to give you the
account.”
A grin chased away his frown. “I’m thinking he
might.”
“As my roommate always says, you should
celebrate. Should I make dinner reservations for
you and Steven?”
“Why not? Pure Food and Wine at seven, if they
can squeeze us in. If not, surprise us.”
We’d barely returned to Mark’s office when he
was pounced on by the executives—Michael
Waters, the CEO and president, and Christine
Field and Walter Leaman, the executive chairman
and vice chairman.
I skirted the four of them as quietly as possible
and slid into my cubicle.
I called Pure Food and Wine and begged for a
table for two. After some serious groveling and
pleading, the hostess finally caved.
I left a message on Mark’s voice mail, “It’s
definitely your lucky day. You’re booked for dinner
at seven. Have fun!”
Then I clocked out, eager to get home.
“He said what?” Cary sat on the opposite end of
our white sectional sofa and shook his head.
“I know, right?” I enjoyed another sip of my wine.
It was a crisp and nicely chilled sauvignon blanc
I’d picked up on the walk home. “That was my
reaction, too. I’m still not sure I didn’t hallucinate
the conversation while overdosing on his
pheromones.”
“So?”
I tucked my legs beneath me on the couch and
leaned into the corner. “So what?”
“You know what, Eva.” Grabbing his netbook off
the coffee table, Cary propped it on his crossed
legs. “Are you going to tap that or what?”
“I don’t even know him. I don’t even know his
first name and he threw that curveball at me.”
“He knew yours.” He started typing on his
keyboard. “And what about the thing with the
vodka? Asking for your boss in particular?”
The hand I was running through my loose hair
stilled. “Mark is very talented. If Cross has any sort
of business sense at all, he’d pick up on that and
exploit it.”
“I’d say he knows business.” Cary spun his
netbook around and showed me the home page
of Cross Industries, which boasted an awesome
photo of the Crossfire. “That’s his building, Eva.
Gideon Cross owns it.”
Damn it. My eyes closed. Gideon Cross. I
thought the name suited him. It was as sexy and
elegantly masculine as the man himself.
“He has people to handle marketing for his
subsidiaries. Probably dozens of people to
handle it.”
“Stop talking, Cary”
“He’s hot, rich, and wants to jump your bones.
What’s the problem?”
I looked at him. “It’s going to be awkward
running into him all the time. I’m hoping to hang on
to my job for a long while. I really like it. I really like
Mark. He’s totally involved me in the process and
I’ve learned so much from him already.”
“Remember what Dr. Travis says about
calculated risks? When your shrink tells you to
take some, you should take some. You can deal
with it. You and Cross are both adults.” He turned
his attention back to his Internet search. “Wow.
Did you know he doesn’t turn thirty for another two
years? Think of the stamina.”
“Think of the rudeness. I’m offended by how he
just threw it out there. I hate feeling like a vagina
with legs.”
Cary paused and looked up at me, his eyes
softening with sympathy. “I’m sorry, baby girl.
You’re so strong, so much stronger than I am. I just
don’t see you carrying around the baggage I do.”
“I don’t think I am, most of the time.” I looked
away because I didn’t want to talk about what
we’d been through in our pasts. “It’s not like I
wanted him to ask me out on a date. But there has
to be a better way to tell a woman you want to
take her to bed.”
“You’re right. He’s an arrogant douche. Let him
lust after you until he has blue balls. Serves him
right.”
That made me smile. Cary could always do
that. “I doubt that man has ever had blue balls in
his life, but it’s a fun fantasy.”
He shut his netbook with a decisive snap.
“What should we do tonight?”
“I was thinking I’d like to go check out that Krav
Maga studio in Brooklyn.” I’d done a little research
after meeting Parker Smith during my workout at
Equinox and as the week passed, the thought of
having that kind of raw, physical outlet for stress
seemed more and more ideal.
I knew it wouldn’t be anything close to banging
the hell out of Gideon Cross, but I suspected it
would be a lot less dangerous to my health.

Categories: Bared to You