Nearly three frustrating months on from their first meeting, and Charlotte was at last no longer so skittish around him. Her quips today cemented his conclusion that she was ready for the next step in this game they were playing, a game of which she was currently unaware. The fact she remained his subordinate at work meant he’d have to take care when it came to how he went about this, but he was going to have Charlotte Baird.
No one and nothing had ever stood in his way when he set his mind on something, and his mind was set on Charlotte, had been for a long time. The patience he’d displayed these past months… she had no idea.
Once he had her, he was going to take her. Over and over and over.
“Ms. Baird, I’m growing a beard while waiting for the file,” he called out, well aware she was printing the latest dispatches on the situation so he could get a full picture.
She strode inside a minute later and placed the file very carefully on his desk, though he could tell she wanted to slam hard, maybe kick him while she was at it. He wouldn’t mind if she tried—he really liked her legs.
Scowling at the professional but bland three-quarter-length black skirt that hid most of the view, he grabbed the file and flipped it open. “This is missing the second half. The entire section to do with the tactless incident that landed his branch on the six-o’clock news.” He’d thought he’d weeded the idiots out of Saxon & Archer, but clearly not.
“I didn’t print out all the documentation, since it’ll be easier for you to click through to related files using the link I’ve just e-mailed you.” She gave him a smile so sweet he was quite certain his PA wanted to strangle him. “I basically set up a private internal wiki for you.”
He was impressed, but he was also having fun riling her up. “Fuck that,” he said and watched her cheeks go bright red, her eyes fiery. “I want a printout of everything and I want it now. I have to read the entire lot before I go screw his head on straight.”
“Here.” Striding around his desk as if she’d lost patience with him—and he’d been trying for a hell of a long time to get Charlotte to lose patience—she picked up the tablet computer he used mostly to watch rugby games when he needed to clear the cobwebs, and switched it on.
Tapping on it, she said, “Input your password.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I am your boss, Ms. Baird,” he said, just to see if she’d give in and kick him at last.
Because that would be first contact, and then he could go after her no holds barred.
Instead, she said, “Please, sir,” in such a sincere voice that he narrowed his eyes.
Tapping in the code, he watched her download his e-mail, frown, then lean forward to access his computer. He didn’t like anyone in his personal space that he hadn’t invited in, but he liked Charlotte there just fine. Leaning back in his chair, he enjoyed the shape of her ass as she worked.
The skirt was tight enough at least to stretch nicely over the curve of her butt.
The urge to stroke his hand over those luscious curves was seriously tempting, but he wasn’t stupid. After all these weeks of very careful strategy to get her to stop seeing him as her boss and start seeing him as a man, no way would he give Charlotte any excuse to pull away. Not only did he have no intention of losing the best damn PA he’d ever had, how the hell was he supposed to get her permanently into his bed if he didn’t have access to her twenty-four seven?
No, he’d wait. And he’d do his stroking in private, after he had her bent naked in front of him, that pretty butt tilted up for his pleasure and hers. He wanted to hear Charlotte moan his name and then ask him to do dirty things to her, her prim little spectacles fogging up with heat.
“There!” Getting up, that stupid skirt sliding over the heart-shaped beauty of her ass to hover around her calves—what woman-hating designer had created that abomination?—she grabbed his tablet and tap-tapped once more. “All the files at your fingertips.”
Gabriel took the tablet, swiped through. “It’ll do,” he said, though he was seriously impressed at how she’d put everything together in a way that made it effortless for him to access what he needed.
He saw her hands curl into fists, but once again, she restrained her violent impulses. A pity. He’d have liked the excuse to tumble her into his lap when she took a swing at his jaw, that sweet ass coming down over his thighs.
Putting down the tablet on that pleasurable thought, he picked up the digital recorder he’d been using before she came in with the rose stems. “I want you to personally type this up.” He didn’t trust the pool of typists who handled most of the general data input, not with a document that needed to say exactly what he wanted it to say without him having to go over it ten times to make sure they hadn’t misplaced a comma or inserted a word.
“Of course.” Her eyes flicked to her watch after she checked the length of the recording. “Did you need it tonight?”
“Why, hot date with Ebenezer?”
Red cheeks again, her chest rising as she took a deep breath. “My personal life,” she said after she exhaled, “is none of the company’s business.”
No, but Gabriel was going to make it his damn business. He’d been trying to put the kibosh on her dating thing with Ernest ever since she became his PA—but though he hadn’t managed to cut that off, the man clearly wasn’t taking care of her. If he had been, she wouldn’t feel the need to wear calf-length skirts with white shirts that buttoned up to her neck or shift dresses two sizes too large. The clothes might be professional and absolutely unobjectionable from a business standpoint, but they totally overwhelmed her petite frame.