The Complete Red-Hot Collection. Kelly Hunter
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‘Do I get time to think about it?’
‘If you need time to think about it you’re not the right man for the job.’
Jared smiled grimly. ‘I don’t believe that.’
‘Tell me, Mr West, do you question everything?’
‘Do you?’
This time he won from the man a smile that might have been genuine.
‘If you have a job for me in the here and now I’ll look at the brief,’ Jared told him. ‘I’ll make the acquaintance of your partner. I’ll approach the people I trust and see if they’re willing to go where I lead. And I will let you know, after that, whether I can be what you need.’
Jared didn’t consider his stance out of line, considering what the older man was asking of him. And if it was—well, maybe it was time to leave.
HE WAS WAITING for her when she stepped from the building and started down the stairs to the footpath. Rowan quickened her step and tried to ignore the acceleration of her heartbeat. His car was sleek, black, expensive, and parked in a no standing zone—and he leaned against the gleaming paintwork as if he had all the time in the world.
He wore battered jeans, a shirt with a collar and a black leather jacket, and he’d look like every muscled guy she’d ever seen in the movies but for the sheer beauty of his face and the fierce intelligence in those midnight-blue eyes. Two of his younger siblings had genius IQs. Jared had been tested too, in his younger years, and those tests had been re-analysed again recently. There was some reason to believe that Jared had screwed those tests up deliberately.
Brains, brawn, an ingrained disrespect for authority, a taste for revenge and utter loyalty to his family. As a director, Rowan had no idea how to handle him. As a woman she had an unhealthy desire to get under his skin and become important to him in ways they’d both regret.
Not exactly a comfortable headspace to be in.
He opened the car door for her as she approached, and she slid him a careless smile and got in.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked when he took the driver’s seat.
‘Some place nice.’
‘Some place neutral?’
‘My father keeps an apartment here for family use. I haven’t been in it for over two years and I probably haven’t stayed there for close to five years. Is that neutral enough for you?’
‘I guess we’ll see.’ She gave tacit agreement to the plan. ‘How far away is it?’
‘It’s in a hotel complex near here. There are several restaurants to choose from—or, if you prefer, Room Service. You’ll have immediate access to other people should you decide to leave the privacy of the apartment. There’s a concierge who can call you a taxi if you need one.’
‘Am I going to need one?’
‘I don’t know. Either way, you’ll have a swift and easy exit available.’
‘Thank you.’
She leaned back against the leather seat and closed her eyes. Her last meeting of the day had been difficult. Jockeying with other section heads for project priority was always taxing. When it came to having dinner with Jared, she’d barely had time to think beyond the fact that she’d agreed to it. That he’d gone ahead and taken the time to plan the evening carefully, with both her physical and emotional comfort in mind, was a very welcome bonus.
‘How did your meeting with the management go?’
‘It threw up some … unexpected career opportunities.’
He could have said more but he lapsed into silence and Rowan didn’t push him. Sharing information didn’t come easily to this man. Trust had to be built slowly.
She opened her eyes and looked in his direction, instantly captivated by the play of shadows across the hard lines of his face and those perfectly formed lips. He was so very beautiful to look at. She doubted she’d ever tire of doing so.
‘I patted a puppy this afternoon,’ he offered next, with a wry smile in her direction. ‘It wasn’t my puppy, mind, but I figured it counted as far as taking your advice was concerned. Do you have any pets, Ro?’
‘My grandfather has a tortoise. Apparently I’ll inherit.’
He laughed—and there was a sound to make a woman sit up and take notice, for it was a good laugh. Rich and rolling. Infectious.
The hotel he took her to looked unimposing from the outside—nothing more than a single set of oversized wooden doors with a black-suited doorman attending them—but the inside was a different matter altogether. Anyone would be able to see this place was on the seven-star side of exclusive the minute they stepped through the doors. Assuming you were allowed through the doors at all.
Jared had to hand the doorman a plastic swipe card and then face a camera and be photo-IDd. Rowan had to be IDd as well, for this hotel clearly took the security of their guests and visitors extremely seriously.
‘Your family keeps an apartment here and no one uses it?’ she asked as they stepped into a gilt-edged lift with bronze handrails and mirrors. The kind of lift a princess or a president might be acquainted with.
‘My grandfather bought it. My father keeps it mainly for sentimental reasons, I think. Occasionally he uses it to impress. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t profit from it. We have an agreement with the hotel whereby they have the authority to put guests in the suite when we’re not using it.’
The apartment he took her to was a three-bedroom penthouse, complete with a ten-person dining table, a bar, and an exquisitely furnished lounge area. It was the kind of suite that foreign dignitaries and heads of state stayed in. It was the kind of hotel that afforded its guests several extra layers of security.
‘This do?’ Jared asked as he shut the door behind them.
‘Yes!’ Opulence, privacy, and service at their fingertips. ‘You knew it would impress.’
‘No. I just hoped it would fit our needs. I have no idea what would impress you.’
‘Loyalty. Intelligence. Self-awareness. I’m impressed.’
For a fleeting moment he looked boyishly pleased, and then he shrugged and added a few more words to the mix. ‘Vengeful, destructive, inaccessible …’
‘Trifles,’