Dating the Enemy. Amber Page

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stalked across the room until she stood directly in front of him.

      “How do you know what I can handle? You don’t know anything about me.”

      “I know I’ve never heard of an agency called Roar,” he said, leaning back in his chair with his arms behind his head, one side of his mouth curling up in a sneer. “And, since I pride myself on being familiar with every agency worth knowing in this city, I’m guessing you haven’t done much worth talking about.”

      For the first time Jessie understood the expression “seeing red.” It was all she could do not to reach up and strangle him with his tie. But since getting mad was probably exactly what he wanted her to do, she did the opposite. Putting her hands behind her, she hopped up on the giant mahogany table and crossed her legs, making sure he got an eyeful of thigh.

      Nick’s eyes widened and he swallowed loudly, his body giving away his sudden interest.

      “That’s a very interesting theory,” she said. “But I think if you ask around you’ll find plenty of people talking about us. Perhaps you’re just out of touch? Like your agency.”

      Nick looked at her with a predatory gaze and it was her turn to swallow loudly. Even knowing he was now the competition, a part of her still wanted him.

      “Careful, Jessie. I might be ‘out of touch,’ as you say, but I could still crush you and your little agency without breaking a sweat.”

      “I’d like to see you try.”

      “Don’t tempt me,” he growled.

      She slowly slid down off her perch, letting her skirt ride up in the process, and watched as he caught a ragged breath.

      “Oh, I’m very good at tempting men. In fact there’s only one thing I do better,” she said as she sauntered back to her laptop.

      “Which is …?”

      She threw him a smile as she snapped the lid shut. “Kicking their butts with my advertising.”

      She quickly stowed the computer in her bag, anxious to get away before her disappointment had a chance to catch up with her. It was just her luck that Prince Charming had turned out to be King of the Schmucks.

      But when she turned to leave she found her way blocked by a solid wall of muscle. Damn, she hadn’t remembered he was so tall … or so deliciously built.

      She tried to move past without touching him. “Excuse me. You’re in my way.”

      “We haven’t finished our conversation. About what you’re getting into.”

      She looked up at him, a retort on the tip of her tongue, but when he caught her gaze the words died in her throat. His eyes burned into hers, silently communicating an encyclopedia’s worth of knowledge about want and need and straight-up danger.

      She stared at him helplessly, trying to think of something that wasn’t, Kiss me now, you hot, sexy

      “Getting into?” she asked, trying unsuccessfully to keep the squeak from her voice.

      “Yes. You’re in the big league now. The stakes are bigger. The sharks are hungrier. You sure you’re up for the challenge?”

      Forcing herself to step back, she swallowed, then answered, “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

      He opened his mouth to answer, but before he could Phyllis bustled in.

      “Oh, good, you two are still here,” she said, oblivious to the mood in the room. “As Nick already knows, Goddess is sponsoring a charity ball tomorrow. Two seats have just opened up at my table and I’d like you to take them.”

      “I’d be happy to take them off your hands,” Jessie said quickly. “I’m sure I can find someone to come with me.”

      “No, you don’t understand,” Phyllis said. “I want you to attend the ball together. The higher-ups are worried about the direction we’re taking our advertising in. The two of you presenting a united front would go a long way toward allaying their fears.”

      Jessie looked at Nick, unsure of what to say. While going to a ball with him had seemed like a dream come true just a couple of hours ago, now it seemed nightmare-worthy.

      “I’d be happy to accompany Jessie to the ball,” Nick said with a smooth smile. “After a couple of glasses of champagne she might tell me the secrets of her success.”

      Jessie conjured up a hollow laugh. “Not likely, but it’ll be fun to see you try and get them out of me!”

      Phyllis nodded. “Great. It’s all set, then. I’ll see you two tomorrow … at the ball!”

      “Looking forward to it,” Jessie said, crossing her fingers behind her back.

      After Phyllis exited, Nick turned to her with a grim smile. “Pick you up at seven?”

      She shook her head. “No. I’ll meet you there.”

      “Bad idea. People will notice if we don’t arrive together.”

      Jessie’s temper flared. How dared he tell her what to do? “I’m not sure I care.”

      Nick scowled. “Well, I do. Unlike you, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep my client happy. And she wants us to put up a united front. So I’ll pick you up at seven.”

      Then he turned on his heel and left, not waiting for her reply.

      Jessie’s heart pounded and the blood roared in her veins. How dared he be so presumptuous? So controlling? He was turning out to be everything she hated about corporate advertising.

      Stupid man. She hoped he was feeling good about his little victory—there was no way he was going to get another one.

       CHAPTER TWO

      NICK SIGHED. HE’D JUST spent three hours going through the advertising materials for the Goddess account, hoping to see a spark of brilliance that he’d overlooked before, but Phyllis was right. They were old. Tired. Stale. There wasn’t a single mention of social media, or online videos, or anything interactive at all.

      Thornton had missed the digital advertising boat entirely. It was no wonder that Roar had been able to wow Phyllis so easily. His agency hadn’t even tried.

      He put his feet up on the giant wooden desk he’d been given and leaned back in his chair, looking for answers on the ceiling. He knew how to turn Thornton & Co. around. He just had to convince his father to listen to him.

      Right on cue, his father barged in, storming through the door with his usual attitude of barely contained rage.

      “Thanks for knocking, Dad,” he said, hoping his father would notice the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

      “What? Are you hiding a girl in here or something?”

      “Of

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