forward. “And you charmed me.”
Kayla eyed the glass in his hand. “How many of those have you had?”
“The other day I was watching you in the boardroom presenting to your client. You never stand still.”
“I think better when I walk around.”
“Yeah, you walk around in that tight little pencil skirt that shows off your ass and those skyscraper heels that show off miles of leg, and all the time you were walking I was thinking, ‘Kayla Green has the sharpest mind in the business, but she also has a great pair of legs—’”
“Tony—”
“‘—and not only does she have a great pair of legs, she also amazing green eyes that can kill a man from a thousand paces.’”
She stared hard at him and then shook her head. “Nope. Not working. You’re still alive, so that’s something else you’re wrong about. Now go back to the party.”
“Let’s get out of here, Green. My place. Just you, me and my super big bed.”
“Tony—” She tried to inject just the right tone into her voice. Firm, professional and absolutely not interested. “I understand how much courage it took for you to be honest about your feelings, and I’m going to be equally candid.” Well, not quite, but as close to candid as she ever came. “Quite apart from the fact I would never get personal with a colleague because it would be unprofessional, I’m totally rubbish at relationships.”
“You couldn’t be rubbish at anything. I heard Brett telling a client this week that you’re a superstar.” An edge of bitterness crept into his voice and she sighed.
“Is that what this is about? Competition? Because honestly, when Brett was giving you tips on how to be on top, I don’t think he meant you to take it quite so literally.”
“Hot, dirty sex, Kayla, and just for tonight.” He raised his glass. “Tomorrow doesn’t exist.”
As far as she was concerned tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. “Good night, Tony.”
“I would make you forget your emails.”
“No man has ever made me forget my emails.” Contemplating that depressing fact did nothing to improve her mood. “You are drunk and you are going to regret this in the morning.”
He sat down on her desk, flattening a stack of invoices awaiting her signature. “I thought I worked hard and then I met you. Kayla Green, public relations genius who never puts a foot wrong.”
She tugged at the invoices. “My foot will be in your butt if you don’t get off my invoices.”
“Butt? I thought you British called it an arse.”
“Butt, arse—call it whatever you like, just get it off my desk. Now go home before you say something you shouldn’t to someone important.” About to stand up and eject him physically, she was relieved when her office door opened and Stacy, her PA, walked in.
Her gaze fixed on the empty glass in Tony’s hand. “Ah, Tony—Brett is looking for you. New business opportunity. He says you’re the man to handle it.”
“Really? In that case—” Tony scooped up Kayla’s untouched glass and strolled toward the door “—nothing stands in the way of business, does it? Certainly not pleasure.”
Stacy watched him go, eyebrows raised. “What’s got into him?”
“Two bottles of champagne got into him.” Kayla dropped her head into her hands and stared blankly at the screen. “Was Brett really looking for him?”
“No, but you looked as if you were about to punch him, and I didn’t want you to spend Christmas in custody. I’ve heard the food is terrible.”
“You are one in a million and you’re in line for a fat bonus.”
“You already gave me a fat bonus. I treated myself to this top.” Stacy twirled like a ballerina and black sequins gleamed under the lights. “What do you think?”
“Love it. Just don’t stand too near Tentacle Tony.”
“I think he’s cute.” Stacy blushed. “Sorry. Too much information.”
“You think he’s hot?” Kayla stared at the door where Tony had exited a few moments earlier and wondered what was wrong with her. “Seriously?”
“Everyone does. Everyone except you, obviously, but that’s because you work too hard to notice. Why don’t you come and join the party?”
“Everyone will be chatting about the holidays. I’m fine talking about work but I’m useless with kids, pets and grandmas.”
“Talking of work, we have a potential new business lead. The guy is coming in tomorrow to brief us. Brett wants you in on that meeting.”
Relieved the topic had shifted, Kayla perked up. “What guy?”
“Jackson O’Neil.”
“Jackson O’Neil.” She filed through her brain. “CEO of Snowdrift Leisure. They own a handful of luxury hotels specializing in winter sports. Mostly European based. Zermatt, Klosters, Chamonix. Impressive track record. Very successful. What about him?”
Stacy gaped at her. “How do you know all this stuff?”
“It’s what I do when other people have a social life.” Kayla typed Jackson O’Neil into the search engine. “Do they want us to work with them? I can talk to someone in the London office.”
“It isn’t the European business. And it isn’t Snowdrift Leisure. He took a backseat in the company eighteen months ago so he could move back to the U.S. and focus on the family business.”
“Really? How did I miss that?” Kayla looked at the photographs that came up on her screen. Jackson O’Neil was at least two decades younger than she’d imagined him to be. Instead of the usual corporate head and shoulders shot, there was a photograph of him skiing down what looked like a vertical slope. Her head spun as she looked at the gradient. “Is that Photoshop?”
Stacy peered over her shoulder and made an appreciative sound. “That man is seriously hot. I bet he drinks vodka martinis, shaken not stirred. It’s not Photoshop. All three O’Neil brothers are skiers. Tyler O’Neil was on the U.S. ski team until he injured himself. They’re always flinging themselves off some cliff or other.”
“So I’d probably better not mention I feel dizzy at the top of the Empire State Building.” Kayla clicked off The picture. “Snowdrift Leisure is a fast-growing, successful company. Why isn’t he focusing on that?”
“Family. The O’Neil family owns the Snow Crystal Resort and Spa in Vermont.”
Family. The most destructive force known to man. “Never heard of it.”
“I guess that’s why he’s contacted us for help.”
“If
