More than a Fling?. Joss Wood
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on the table. ‘We wouldn’t brand Win!. We’d use you.’
‘Still not getting it—and getting more scared by the moment,’ Ross muttered.
‘Initially I thought, like Luc, that Win! and the new Bellechier line would be a good fit. It’s a sporting and lifestyle game and our new collection is a lot more relaxed. Good synergy.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Ross was looking at her as if she was about to drop a concrete block on his head. ‘Are we going to be done with this conversation soon?’
‘We were on the wrong track looking at Win!. We should be looking at you. The man behind the game...’
Ross groaned theatrically and released a graphic swear word. ‘Sorry, but that is such a load of BS.’
Ally shook her head. ‘It’s really not. Win! is super-hot, and anyone who is tech-savvy—which is everybody between the age of thirteen and thirty-five—would be interested in the man behind the phenomena. Who did this? How did he do it? Add to the fact that you are...well, young, successful and a good-looking guy—’
‘You think so?’
Ally draped her arm over the back of her chair and held his eyes. ‘Are you fishing for compliments now? You know that you are hot, Bennett. We both know that you are hot.’
He lifted one eyebrow. ‘Really?’
‘Don’t get excited; that’s a professional observation.’ Ally knew that her voice held ice but she couldn’t be certain that her eyes weren’t slowly undressing him. ‘I also love the idea of Crazy Collaborations—a technology think-tank—but I think that we’d have to stick to you as creator of Win! for the campaign.’
‘We’re not sticking to anything because the answer is still no.’
Dammit, she wasn’t anywhere near changing his mind. ‘What would it take?’
‘To get me to do the campaign?’ Ross leaned back in his chair. His mouth held a hint of a smile and his eyes narrowed in thought.
‘Mmm. Come on—hit me. What would it take? What’s the number? The demand? Where’s the line in the sand?’
‘You sure you want to know?’
Ally nodded, resigned. He was going to throw a ridiculous number out there, or ask for something stupid, impractical, unobtainable or all three. She’d been here before—matching demands with deliverability and, more importantly, deciding whether they were worth what they were asking.
Some were. Some weren’t.
Ally rolled her head and looked at him from under her lashes. Oh, well, in for a penny...or for many pounds. ‘Hit me.’
‘I will consider doing the campaign—seriously consider it—if you sleep with me.’
Ross almost looked around, in the vague hope that someone else had suddenly joined the conversation, because he could not believe that those words had come from his own mouth. What a flippin’ idiot.
He looked at Ally, who looked as shocked as he was feeling. Guppy look, Ross thought as his words registered and her eyes widened. He expected her to make a fish noise at any minute. He raked his hand through his hair. The words had slipped out. He’d been thinking them, but he normally managed to keep his thoughts behind his teeth. They were at best wildly inappropriate, and at worst sexual harassment of the worst kind.
It was pushing her into a corner, asking her to go beyond the call of duty. Of course she would say no—probably at the same time that she threw that glass of red wine in his face.
And he would so deserve it. What was he thinking? Oh, wait... Maybe he wasn’t thinking...maybe he was allowing his little head to do the talking.
Ally just stared at him with her surprised fish face and he shifted in his chair. He wished she would say something and give him a hint of the amount of crap he’d just jumped into.
He lifted his hands in a gesture of apology. ‘Sorry. That was...’
‘Rude? Inappropriate? Offensive?’ Ally tapped her finger against the white tablecloth.
‘All of the above?’
‘Damn right.’
She shrugged a slim shoulder and smiled. Smiled?
‘Okay, let’s go.’
Whoa! Stop the bus! She was prepared to do this? Had he heard her correctly? No, he couldn’t have.
‘Seriously?’
Those eyes bored into him. ‘Wasn’t it a serious offer?’
‘Yes. No... Dammit, I didn’t expect you to say yes!’
Ally cocked her head. ‘Why not?’
‘Because I didn’t think that you were the type.’ And, more worrying, he really didn’t want her to be the type. Over the years he’d met far too many women who’d use any weapon they could, including their sexuality, to get one step higher up the corporate ladder. Grasping, greedy, power-hungry women who thought it was acceptable to sleep, lie and manipulate their way to the top.
The realist in him knew that he was a target for those predatory types. He had money, influence and, according to that stupid poll recently, power. What that meant exactly he had no damn idea, but he couldn’t help feeling disappointed that Luc’s sister used the same tactics.
Disappointed, yeah...but he was attracted enough, wanted her too much, not to take what she was offering.
And he did want to have sex with her. He wanted to see whether her eyes deepened or lightened in passion, whether she huffed or moaned her pleasure, whether her skin was as fragrant as he thought, whether those long legs could wind around his hips just as he’d imagined they could.
Ross took a sip of whisky and nearly choked when Ally stood up and draped a black leather bag over her slim shoulder. ‘So, shall we go upstairs?’
‘Fine.’
Ross nearly bit his tongue trying to get the word out. Your room, my room, the lobby floor, Ross thought in a daze. He couldn’t believe that his stupid flip comment was going to lead to him getting it on with this gorgeous woman.
Utterly bemused, sure that he was operating in an alternative reality, he stumbled to his feet.
This was proof that God did, indeed, look after the intensely stupid.
* * *
How could she be both incredibly turned on and scorchingly angry? Ally wondered as she stepped into the lift ahead of Ross. She didn’t have any objection to sleeping with Ross—her monologue in the Ladies’ earlier was proof of that—but she despised the link between sex and her career.
How dared he make sex with her a condition of doing business? That behaviour was no longer acceptable in any circumstances! Sex was sex and work was work and the first one should never be used as a tool for negotiation. This was the twenty-first century and men didn’t get away with that kind of testosterone-fuelled crap any more. And it hurt like a man-o-war sting that he thought that she was stupid enough, desperate enough, insecure enough about her job that she would even consider sleeping with him to get what she wanted from him.
She might be one or all of those things—but she’d never use her body as she would her laptop or her mobile.
As for the turned-on part—jeez, Louise. She was in a small, slow lift with a super-fine guy who twisted her panties with just one look out of those lazy gold-green eyes. Despite the fact that he was a Neanderthal, she wanted him in the worst way possible. But there was no way she could have him...ever.
But she could teach him a lesson in sexual harassment. Oh, yeah, she was going to harass the hell out of him...
Ally watched the doors close and was grateful they were the only occupants of the lift. She knew it would take about a minute