He stood so fast his chair slammed into the filing cabinet behind him, and he leaned across his desk—within strangling reach.
‘I can assure you, Miss Shultz, I’m no fool. You’ve had your say. Please leave.’
She didn’t recoil or flinch or bat an eyelid and his admiration notched further.
‘Not till you’ve interviewed me.’
She sat, crossed her legs and rested her clasped hands on one knee.
‘You promised me an interview so start asking questions.’
Stunned by her audacity, he shook his head. ‘I can call Security.’
‘You won’t.’
Her blue eyes grew stony as she met his stonewalling gaze head-on. ‘I’ve done my research too. You’re new to this job. You want the best for Devlin Corp. Let’s cut the small talk and use my remaining minutes here wisely.’
He fell into his seat and rubbed his forehead, where the beginnings of a headache were stirring.
Fine, he’d play this her way. He’d go through her little game for the next five minutes, then he’d personally escort her out and slam the door on headstrong, pushy women once and for all.
‘Why don’t you go ahead and tell me why a successful, headhunted, environmental scientist who has worked around the world wants to work on a Devlin Corp project?’
For the first time since she’d strutted in he glimpsed uncertainty as she tugged on an earring, before she quickly masked it with a toss of her hair.
‘I like to diversify. The size of a project isn’t important to me. It’s the probable impact on the surrounding environment. And the Portsea project captured my attention for that reason.’
Her eyes glittered with unexpected fervour as she sat forward, her hands waving around to punctuate her words. ‘Portsea’s a gorgeous spot. Beaches along the Mornington Peninsula are special. You can’t just dump a fancy-schmancy housing development in the middle of it and hope for the best.’
Increasingly frustrated that she saw him as some dollar-grabbing corporate raider, he had to cut this short.
‘Contrary to your belief, Devlin Corp doesn’t dump anything. When we take on a project of this magnitude we do extensive environmental studies—’
‘Done by consultants. So you’ve said.’
She waved away his explanation, leaving him gobsmacked for the second time in twenty-four hours.
‘I’m not besmirching your company’s reputation. All I’m asking for is forty-eight hours to head out to the site, collate my findings and present them to you.’
‘That’s all?’
She ignored his sarcasm, beaming as if he’d agreed to share CEO duties with her.
‘I promise you won’t regret it.’
‘I already do,’ he muttered, thinking he must be mad to contemplate giving in to her demands.
But something she’d said rang true: he’d hired consultants previously used by his dad, and while he couldn’t fault their findings he had to admit environmental outcomes weren’t his area of expertise.
The consultants presented their findings, he went ahead with the project regardless, and while no red flags had jumped out at him, how well had the consultants studied how the land lay, so to speak?
He had an expert in the field sitting in front of him, offering her services for two days. Businesswise, he’d be a fool to pass up expertise of that magnitude. Personally, he wanted to boot her out before she coerced him into anything else.
‘What do you say?’ She held up two fingers. ‘Two days is all I’m asking for.’
‘If I agree to this—’ her grin widened and he held up a hand to rein her in ‘—and it’s a big if at this stage, how much are you charging?’
She leaned forward as if to impart some great secret.
‘For you? Free.’
He reared back. He’d learned from a young age that if something looked too good to be true it usually was.
‘What’s the catch?’
She shrugged. ‘No catch.’
He glimpsed a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, the pinch around her mouth, the fiddle with her earring.
‘Here’s the deal. If you tell me the truth about why this is so important to you, I’ll give you two days.’
She paled and he almost felt guilty for holding her over a barrel. Almost. For all the grief she’d put him through he should rejoice he’d finally gained the upper hand. No one got the better of him, but in twenty-four hours this woman had come close.
Indecision warred with yearning, before she finally sagged into her chair, the fight drained out of her.
‘My family owned that land.’
There she went again, flooring him without trying.
‘We bought it from the Karl Trust.’
She gnawed on her bottom lip. Her vulnerability was softening the hard shell he’d erected around his heart. Not from any grand passion gone wrong but for the simple reason he didn’t have the time or inclination for a relationship.
He dated extensively, squiring women to corporate events and charity balls and the theatre. But dating and getting involved in a relationship were worlds apart and he liked to keep it that way. He had one love in his life—Devlin Corp—and it suited him fine.
‘Karl Shultz was my dad. The land had been in his family for a few generations, in trust. It meant a lot to us—him.’
Her slip-up told him all he needed to know. This land had personal value to her, which made him wonder why she’d let it be sold in the first place. Financial liability, most likely, but it wasn’t his place to question her personal status.
‘I get it. This land meant something to you and you want to ensure it’s treated right.’
She clasped her hands so tight her knuckles stood out. Her reluctance to discuss anything deeper than superficialities was obvious.
‘Something like that.’
She clamped her lips shut to stop herself from saying more but he’d heard enough.
‘I’m a stand-up guy, Miss Shultz, and I value honesty. Especially in business.’
He held out his hand for her to shake. ‘You’ve got yourself forty-eight hours to do your worst.’
Her answering smile made something unfamiliar twang in his chest.
‘Thanks,
