The CEO's Scandalous Affair / Seduced by the Wealthy Playboy. Roxanne St. Claire
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“I know how much this means to you,” she snapped back. “I don’t put anything past you.”
She didn’t know anything about him and what meant what to him. “Excuse me, but you’re the one who appeared out of nowhere claiming to be a Garrison.”
She choked, her own temper obviously torqued. “I haven’t appeared out of nowhere. I’ve been right here, for twenty-seven years, the daughter of John Garrison and Ava Sinclair. There were no ‘claims.’”
“You’ll have to prove it.” The words were out before he could stop himself, erupted by his boiling blood. “We want to run full DNA tests and until conclusive proof is on my desk, my father’s will is being contested in court.”
He heard her breath escape in frustration. “Fine. Sic your lawyers on me. I don’t care. Let me run my property the way I always have. Garrison, Inc. will get the appropriate percentage of my profits. In the meantime, stay away from me and I’ll stay away from you.”
She clicked off before he could respond. Swearing softly, Parker threw his phone on the desk and strode toward the door, his command that Anna get Brandon Washington on the phone already forming in his mouth.
He whipped the door open and almost knocked her down.
What was she doing there? Listening?
He glared at her, and she backed up a step, but lifted up her chin defiantly. “I want to talk to you.”
Of course she was listening. The Jefferieses would probably want a full report. He gave her a smile, which wasn’t difficult because even behind those little glasses, she was pretty. Very pretty.
“About what?” he asked, keeping his tone friendly.
She took a deep breath and glanced at the clerk who was slowly unloading the morning mail in front of her desk.
“Morning, Mario,” Parker said, greeting the man who’d worked for the company since the year his father had opened it.
“Mr. Garrison.” He nodded slowly, obviously more interested in the conversation than delivering the mail.
“Please,” Anna said to Parker, starting to close his door. “It’s personal.”
But he put his hand on the wood to keep it open. “How personal?”
She speared him with a look. “Very personal.”
He dipped one inch closer and the color immediately rose to her cheeks. For a spy, she sure had a weak spot. Several of them, in fact. One behind her ear, one just at the rise of her breasts and the weakest of all, the soft inside flesh of her thigh.
His body stirred at the thought. Might be time to exploit those weaknesses. “Then why don’t we discuss it over dinner, Anna?”
Her eyes widened. “Dinner?”
“Yep. I feel like celebrating.”
“You do?”
He cocked his head toward the phone on his desk. “It appears all the problems have been solved,” he said smoothly. “Cassie Sinclair is going to rescind her shares. So, let’s celebrate.”
It wasn’t really a lie. He’d win this and Cassie would rescind her shares, or sell them to him. But it wouldn’t hurt to see if a little misinformation got dripped into the Jefferies organization.
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” She brightened, sounding very sincere. How would it sound when she relayed that information to Jordan and Emilio Jefferies? “Would you like me to get Brandon Washington on the phone for you?”
Damn, she was good. Spy or not, she had a skill for anticipating everything he needed. How would that translate in bed? The thought tightened his gut.
“Yes, please. And call Brittany Beach Restaurant and tell my sister to get us the best table in the house tonight.”
“All right. Then we’ll talk tonight.”
They would. And he would plant a few more decoy targets and then he’d sit back and watch Anna, and Jordan and Emilio, try to hit them. “I’ll look forward to it.”
The only problem was, he would. All day.
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