One Night with Her Brooding Boss. Cathy WilliamsЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘You looked worn out earlier, so I thought I should bring you something to get your blood flowing again. Something told me you might baulk if I offered you fortified wine.’
‘Whisky is my drink of choice, as it happens. You know me well.’
‘I don’t know you at all, Miss Steele, but that is something I intend to put right.’
It was a tiny moment of connection between them, and she wanted to protect and nurture it like a candle flame.
Quinn was way ahead of her.
‘Apologies in advance for contravening one of your feminist by-laws.’
She gasped as his lips brushed hers. In the same instant, he pressed her back against the kitchen counter and, with one powerful thigh nudging her legs apart, he drew her close. ‘Forget the coffee,’ he murmured, teasing and nuzzling her neck and mouth in a way that delivered a powerful charge to every sex-starved part of her. ‘You need this more.’
Oh yes, she did, Magenta realised as she wound her arms around Quinn’s neck. What her sensible side would have to say about it when she woke up in the morning was another matter. But she was dreaming and, according to the law of dreams, anything was possible, even forgetting her inhibitions where sex was concerned. She would just have to put up with Quinn kissing her like a god.
Quinn’s hair was thick and lush, his body was hard and strong, and she was instantly aroused. Quinn’s heat was iced with night air and the taste of mint was on her tongue. He had splashed on some cologne—musky, spicy, warm and clean—and his stubble was an unaccustomed rasp against her face. He was an expert in the art of seduction who knew just how to tease, stroke and nip, until she was pressing herself against him, writhing, sucking, biting, practically demanding the invasion of his tongue as she showed him in no uncertain terms that she had fully embraced the concept of free love—at least in her dreams.
But somewhere deep inside her a warning bell was ringing, and that bell was determined to spoil everything. It said that she might be on a fast track to pleasure, losing all sense of right and wrong, but Quinn was still firmly in control. She was strong in everything else she did, except this. Free love was one thing but it had to be on her terms. She’d put a price tag on it, Magenta decided, and that price tag might just buy a chance for the team she planned to build.
Using every bit of mental strength she possessed, she pulled back. ‘I’ll make that coffee for you.’ Turning away, she continued to prepare their drinks with hands that shook slightly. ‘Do you think you could spare the time to look at the ideas I’m putting together?’
‘Would I like to see what you’ve been doing when I’m paying you to work for me? I think I should, don’t you? ‘ Propping his hip against the counter, Quinn waited until she had finished and then he led the way back into the office, where he swung her ideas book around. ‘This is good. What gave you the inspiration?’
‘Research.’ She could hardly say, the benefit of living fifty years from now. ‘I’m keen to push the campaign to the next level.’ She had never cheated in her life before, never needed to.
‘Your idea certainly moves things somewhere,’ Quinn agreed dryly. ‘Do I take it you weren’t impressed with the team you saw in action earlier today? ‘
‘You could say that,’ Magenta admitted as Quinn stared at her keenly.
‘Maybe they just need time to settle in.’
‘There is no time to settle in if you want to launch in the New Year.’
‘So you’re suggesting I accept a campaign designed by a woman?’
‘Is that so crazy?’
‘You’ve forgotten the natural order of things, Magenta. Men lead at work so that women can enjoy a certain lifestyle.’
‘Women can do that for themselves, given half a chance.’
‘And I don’t let them—is that what you’re saying?’
‘Maybe men feel threatened—’
‘Not this man.’ Quinn cut across her.
She took her courage in both hands and went for it. ‘Then prove it by allowing women to play a part in your campaign.’
His lips curved; he took it well. ‘How do I know that there’s anyone working for me, other than you, that has this flair?’
‘You’ll never know until you give everyone an equal chance to prove themselves.’
‘If there’s so much latent talent here, why has no one put themselves forward before now?’
‘Because women want to keep their jobs, so they keep their mouths shut. Is there any reason good enough to make you ignore a possible seam of in-house talent? I think we must consider our female audience when we design a campaign.’
‘What do women want?’ Quinn didn’t even pretend to think about it. ‘Who cares when men pay the bills? This is business, Magenta, not some feel-good society for you to float around in. Men earn the money women spend—remember that. So men are our target audience.’
She hated herself for trembling with awareness of Quinn when he was preaching this heresy. But Quinn was a product of his time, Magenta remembered, which made what she had to do while she was a visitor in this dream world all the more important. ‘But you’ve just admitted women do the shopping, so they have control of the finances.’
‘Nonsense. Are you the most argumentative woman I’ve ever met?’ he demanded. ‘Who tells a woman what to buy, Magenta? Her man.’
‘Not this woman.’
Quinn looked at her and almost laughed. He controlled it well, but at least he’d lightened up. That was a small victory of sorts, Magenta supposed, wondering if her heart would reach some critical point where it would have to slow down.
‘All I’m asking you to do is to tune in to your audience, Magenta, but sometimes, I think your head’s elsewhere—like another century, maybe.’
Close. But she couldn’t stop now. ‘If you go on with this belief that we only have to sell to one sector of the community, then this company will sink like a stone, taking your investment with it.’
There was silence, and then to Magenta’s relief Quinn’s face relaxed as another idea occurred to him. ‘Why don’t you illuminate me on the correct way to reach every member of our target audience?’ Challenge turned his steely gaze to fire.
‘I’D BE pleased to explain,’ Magenta said, facing up to Quinn. She had to look up at him; he towered over her. ‘There are plenty of women in the workplace trying to keep a family afloat.’
‘You think I don’t know that?’
How attractive was that crease in his cheek? And how determined was she not to be distracted by it? ‘Women have always been fighters, Quinn—they’ve had to be—and if you want to know what appeals to them you capture the whole of the market—their men and the next generation, too.’
‘And if I want to know how to appeal to women I should ask you?’
Like Quinn didn’t appeal to every woman he met. But he didn’t face up their ads. ‘You could ask any of the women who work here for their opinion. Use the resources you have, don’t ignore them. Ask them what they like to buy, to use, to experience.
‘You’re suggesting we run a series of trials?’
‘Why not?’
‘Involve women in our brainstorming sessions?’
‘Of course.’
‘Persuade me.’
Quinn’s