Wanted: Billionaire's Wife. Susannah ErwinЧитать онлайн книгу.
to be on his team. In many cases, he persuaded them to leave lucrative salaries and promising career trajectories to join him at Ruby Hawk. He owed them, more than he could express.
“There he is.” The knot of executives pressed forward.
“Is it true?”
“What’s happening with the acquisition?”
“Are you leaving the company?”
He caught sight of a messy blond ponytail on the outer fringes of the group. Good. He needed Danica—or rather, he corrected his thoughts grimly, he needed her work, now more than ever.
He held up a hand and the questions quieted down. “Don’t pay attention to the rumors. Our response is to keep our heads down and continue to do good work. But I do need to see her.” He indicated with a jerk of his chin for Danica to come forward.
Her startled gaze met his. “Me?” she sputtered.
“You. Anjuli, let’s meet after you run those numbers. Everyone else, back to your desks. If you want to gossip, do it on your own time.” He stepped forward to usher Danica into his office as the small crowd dispersed at his command.
* * *
Danica didn’t have time to form a protest. His hand on the small of her back guided her, its warmth radiating through the thin cotton jersey of her shirt. He indicated a chair in front of his desk and let go of her arm, not a second too soon for her comfort. The door shut behind them with a resounding click.
“What can I do for you?” she asked, sitting gingerly on the edge of a clear molded acrylic chair. Her back was to the glass wall, but her spine prickled with the heat of at least half a dozen stares aimed straight at her.
He sat down on the opposite side of the repurposed-wood conference table. He pushed a button on a remote control and mechanized shades unrolled over the windows, shielding them from the curious gazes.
The light in the room dimmed, the atmosphere changing from corporate to intimate. She was very aware they were the only two people in the room.
His shoulders seemed to fall slightly. It was a small chink in his usually impenetrable armor of arrogant self-confidence. She yearned to reach out and smooth the faint creases marring his brow. “What’s wrong?” she tried again, her tone soft.
The vulnerability disappeared as quickly as it had revealed itself, causing the temperature in the room to fall a few degrees. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
She resisted the urge to turn around and point at the now-shaded glass wall. “The angry mob searching for pitchforks and torches was just my imagination?”
His eyebrows drew together. “A vivid one. That was nowhere near a mob, and they weren’t angry.”
“A group of concerned employees, then. Is it the article about the Stavros Group pulling out of the deal?”
“I need your candidate list.”
It was a good thing she was already sitting. The shock would have blown her off her feet. “I sent you my preliminary list days ago. That’s why I was standing there, hoping to catch you for your reaction.” She pulled an email printout from the folder she carried and placed it on his desk.
He glanced down at the paper, and then his head came up sharply. “I thought this was a list of rejected candidates. I deleted it.” He pushed it aside. “It’s been five working days. I need your results. Now.”
He deleted her hard work? Without so much as an acknowledgment he had received it? “I know it’s been five days!” she shot back. “Five days of you ignoring my emails, my phone calls, my chat invitations, my texts.” How dare he put this on her? “I did everything but parade naked in front of that window to get your attention!”
The light in his eyes changed. Prickles formed on her skin. “I answer communications when I have something to say. No answer from me means ‘No.’” A corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk. “Although no one’s tried parading naked before.”
That treacherous heat suffused her cheeks again. “If this is the way you treat your employees’ attempts to get in touch with you, no wonder they talk as if the company needs to be measured for a coffin behind your back.”
His lips compressed into a thin line. “They do no such thing.”
“I know this room resembles a bubble, but that’s no excuse for talking like you live in one.” Luke was powerful and wealthy. Perhaps his lofty status kept him from seeing the ground below him. “I’m practically locked up in a converted supply closet because you don’t want anyone to know why I’m here, and even I know the acquisition is in trouble. You need to talk to your employees. Starting with me.”
His gaze was the glacial blue of an iceberg beneath the surface and just as dangerous. “Fine. Let’s talk. If you’re having difficulty performing the task assigned to you, we should rethink this arrangement.”
What? Her breath came in staccato bursts. She’d told her parents she would pay for Matt’s treatment. She refused to let that become a lie. “I performed the task assigned to me. That list is the result of hours of impeccable research. Every single person has been vetted and meets your criteria.” She returned his arctic gaze with a heated glare. “How dare you delete it?”
He stood up, his broad, muscled form towering over her. “You submitted a list of women already known to me. Therefore, it’s unusable.”
She sprang to her feet. He would not intimidate her with his stance. The top of her head came up to his Adam’s apple, forcing her to tilt her head back so she could meet his gaze straight on. “It may be hard to believe, but every date you’ve ever had is not on a gossip website. That is why I sent the list to you to vet. I need your feedback.” She leaned over and pointed at the printout, her index finger planted firmly on his desk.
He raised a dismissive eyebrow and slid the paper from underneath her finger, crumpling it up and tossing it in a perfect arc into a nearby wastebasket. He then put his hands on the desk and angled his torso over the table. Scant inches separated them.
“The women on your list work in tech. You think I’m not aware of talented up-and-coming executives? I don’t need you to tell me who I know and already considered. I need you to find someone I haven’t considered.”
Danica huffed. “Remember what I said about communication? This would’ve been useful information to have. A week ago.”
He leaned even closer. The scent of expensive leather and fresh citrus teased her nose. She got the distinct sense of a tiger playing with his prey. The prey might think it could escape. But the tiger was coiled to jump and tear out the prey’s throat in a blink.
“You’re the search expert, not me,” he said in a low, controlled voice. “But common sense dictates looking further afield than the client is able to do on his own is a prerequisite for the job.”
“You—” she began.
Then she stopped and considered his words.
He was right.
She had overlooked a basic step in conducting a search: assess which candidates had already been rejected before she came on board. And yes, he could have explained the problem with her list in a timelier, if not infinitely more tactful, manner. But if he had, he wouldn’t be Luke Dallas.
Her gaze fell. His shirt was open at the collar, revealing a triangle of sun-bronzed skin. A pulse leaped at the side of his neck, and for a split second she wanted to rest her lips there and see if he tasted as good as he smelled.
“You...” she started again. “You’re right. I’m sorry. If you still want me to work on the search, I’ll compile a better list.” She snuck a glance at him from under her eyelashes. She expected chilly disdain, but there was something warm and contemplative deep in his eyes. A hot spark kindled in her chest as their gazes tangled.
“I