“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come across that way,” she said, sliding into her seat, damning herself for giving away her emotions. She really was supposed to be much better at conveying calm. She always had been before Damien had arrived.
“Any chance you can give me an honest answer to an honest question?” he asked, his bandaged hand resting on his lean hip.
“Of course I can,” she said.
“Why did you sigh just a moment ago when I told you I have nothing else for you to do right now?”
Darn it. She should have held her breath. She reluctantly met his gaze. “If I’d known you were going to give me so little work to do, then I would have taken an extra online course this semester. You don’t want me to make your coffee. You don’t want me to set up appointments. I feel guilty spending so much time twiddling my thumbs.”
His lips twitched. “A first,” he said. “You’re upset because I’m not giving you more work to do.”
“Well, would you be happy?” she asked, her courage stemming from frustration.
He paused, looking at her in silence. “You have a good point. Okay, fine. I want you to take a look at the performance, expenses, employees—everything in connection with the San Diego resorts. And I want you to make a recommendation for job cuts.”
She dropped her jaw. “Excuse me?”
“Yes. I’d like your recommendations within two days.”
“Two days?”
“Do you have a problem with that? You’ve been trained to read a profit and loss statement. Despite the fact that you’re an executive assistant, you’ve earned a degree in business. I think this assignment will help you gain some perspective.”
She worked her mouth, then closed it and cleared her throat. “No. No problem. Thank you very much.” She watched him walk into his office, the V-shape of his body distracting her. Until he closed his door.
Emma shook her head.Crap. This was what happened when she let down her guard. Damien now expected her to give him suggestions on his hatchet job. How was she supposed to do that?
Hours later, after skipping her lunch break, Emma felt as if her eyeballs were spinning. She had begun her assessment of the San Diego properties and tentatively put an X beside a few positions only to mark out her original X.
Just as she made the decision to cut a position, she began to think about the person in that position and how they would feel about having their job cut, what kind of family they supported. Several scenarios for each person came to mind, all of them making her feel like the Grinch.
Absently glancing at the clock, she was shocked by the late hour. She was supposed to meet Mallory’s setup guy in thirty minutes. She had to stop working. Even though she’d essentially made zero progress, she had to stop. Hopefully a good night of sleep would provide her with a clear mind tomorrow so she could properly perform this assignment. In the meantime, she needed to remember how to make her eyes smoky, she thought as she grabbed her cosmetic bag and headed for the restroom.
Twenty minutes of swearing and perspiration later, she’d changed into her makeover outfit of a little black dress that showed a bit of cl**vage and clung to her curves and returned to her desk to turn off her computer.
Hearing a sound in the outer office, Damien glanced away from his laptop, noting the tightness in his shoulders and neck. The sensations weren’t unusual. He’d been known to go for hours completely focused on his task. He’d learned, however, that even he should take short breaks. He opened his door and glanced into the outer office, stopping short.
The sight of a woman wearing high heels and a body-skimming black dress that hugged her curves—in particular the backside currently facing him—took him off guard.
“Emma?”
She whirled around, her eyes wide and her plump lips parted in surprise. “Oops. I didn’t hear you.”
He stared at her face, taking in her sexy blue eyes and luscious mouth, pink and tempting. “Special occasion?”
She shrugged her shoulders, drawing his attention to her generous, creamy br**sts. “One of Mallory’s setups,” she said with a lopsided smile. “We’ll see.”
“One,” he echoed. “There’s more than one?”
“That’s up to me,” she with a slight grimace as she grabbed her purse and a plastic bag. “She’s very determined. She says crazy things like I’m an undiscovered treasure. Nice of her,” she said, clearly embarrassed. “I should go. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He nodded. “Yeah. Have a good time.”
“Hope so,” she said with a smile and walked out of the office, her h*ps drawing his attention. He thought about putting his hands on her hips, taking her br**sts into his hands and mouth, sliding between her thighs and feeling her femininity close around him like the most intimate, wet embrace.
Feeling himself grow hard, he was surprised at the force of his reaction to her. Plus, for some reason, he felt damn annoyed that she was seeing another man tonight. He was usually as detached about his sex life as he was about his professional life. He chose his partners for their ability to please him, and he’d never had a problem providing a woman with complete sexual satisfaction.
The truth was, however, that he tended to choose a more sophisticated woman than Emma, a woman who would respond to his needs and the passion of the moment and be satisfied with a brief affair, with perhaps an expensive trinket as a souvenir.
Despite her professional demeanor, he could feel her curiosity about him growing stronger every day. She was drawn to him, he could see it in her eyes and hear it in her breath when he stepped close to her. He couldn’t help wondering how hot he could make Emma, how she would feel in his arms, in his bed.
Damien gave a mental check of his calendar and a plan quickly formed in his mind. A surge of anticipation and satisfaction slid through him. Emma Weatherfield would be in his bed by the end of next week.
After a date where she could not stop comparing her setup guy to Damien, Emma felt like banging her head against the wall. Any wall, but especially her office wall because the next morning she found to her great disappointment that the setup date had provided her with zero distraction. A baby-faced blond sales rep for a paper company, Doug Caldwell had been full of smiles and eager to please. He reminded Emma of a puppy where Damien reminded her of a mysterious predator.
In addition, today she faced the ugly task of recommending which employees should be let go from their positions. By Thursday afternoon, she felt as if she may as well be playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey with the organizational chart. She hoped against hope that Damien was too busy and would forget to ask for her recommendations.
As if on cue, he opened the door to his office and shot her a look of inquiry. “Ready to give me your list?”
Dragging herself into his office with her final draft, she instinctively held the paper behind her back. “I feel I should warn you that I don’t have your experience, so my recommendations may not be as helpful as you or I would like them to be.”
He waved his hand. “Let me see them.”
She reluctantly surrendered the paper to him and clenched her teeth as she waited for his response. He glanced at the paper, then at her. “Where are the rest of the recommended cuts?”
“Those are all,” she said and cleared her throat.
“Two?” he said in astonishment. “You recommended two cuts?”
“Yes. Two,” she said.
He rubbed his hand over his face and chuckled. “You do know that if you were ever promoted into management you would need to be able to fire an employee.”
Her stomach knotted. “Yes.”
“What was your major?”
“Business administration,” she said.
He shook his head.
“But I think my natural skills are better in the areas of organizing and reducing expenditures through practical economic measures.”
“Turn out the lights when you leave the room,” he said.
“Yes. No new hires before you begin downsizing. No pay raises for executives. With the actual properties, initiating new incentive programs and perks for repeat customers. Since most of our properties are top-of-the-line luxury resorts, finding a way to lure new guests during the off-season would give new customers a taste of what it’s like to stay at an MD resort. Once they’ve experienced it, they will want to repeat it.”
He gave a slow nod. “Have you talked about these ideas with your former bosses?”
She shook her head. “I thought it would have been considered presumptuous.”
“Do you want to advance at MD?”
“Of course I do,” she said, unable to keep a trace of indignation from her voice.
“You underestimate yourself. I suggest you put together a report with your suggestions.” He shrugged and sat down. “That’s all.”
She stared at him with an open mouth for several seconds before he raised his eyebrows at her. “Did you have a question?”
Blinking, she pulled herself together and backed away. “No.” Returning to her desk, she fought a wave of confusion. Had Damien Medici just offered career guidance? Had he paid her a compliment? She felt a rush of pleasure. He certainly hadn’t gushed, but he hadn’t criticized her ideas, either.
Sinking into her seat, she was puzzled. If he thought she underestimated herself, why didn’t he allow her to do more for him?
At the end of the day on Friday, Damien called her into his office again. “What time should I pick you up tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night?” she echoed, confused.
“For the charity gala,” he said.
She’d hoped he’d forgotten. “Oh, that. I’m going to volunteer, so I actually need to be there early. I can just meet—”
He shook his head. “No. It won’t be a problem. I can pick you up early. What time works best for you?”
Emma barely resisted the urge to squirm. Showing up with Damien would be like linking herself with the enemy. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if he were doing this precisely to make her squirm. But what choice did she have? “Five-thirty should be fine,” she said, preparing herself for disapproving expressions from the De Luca and Megalos couples. “I promised Mallory I would assist with any last-minute problems. I understand if you want to bow out since my attention will be divided.”