Ruthless Boss, Dream Baby by Susan Stephens

Author:Susan Stephens [Stephens, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Contemporary Romance
ISBN: 9781408925263
Publisher: Mills & Boon
Published: 2010-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SHE was operating on two levels, Magenta realised as she watched Quinn’s skilful hands at play on the second omelette. Whether the cautious part of her approved or not, she was violently aroused. And this was the best chance she was ever going to get to discuss business with Quinn, that sensible side reminded her.

‘Sit. Eat,’ he said, putting a perfectly prepared golden omelette on the table in front of her.

The aroma alone was enough to make her salivate. ‘This is delicious,’ she said, forking up a feather-light morsel of buttery, golden egg.

Quinn joined her at the table and dumped some salad on both their plates. ‘Tell me more about your ideas.’

He never wasted a moment; she liked that about him. It encouraged her to confide more. Quinn was an attentive listener. He asked her about the Christmas party. She took him through her plans as far as she’d got. ‘I’m pleased you trust me to take care of it.’

‘If I can’t trust you on any level, Magenta, you’d better let me know now.’

And there it was again—the change in Quinn from charming host to uncompromising employer in the blink of an eye. She would have to be more circumspect in future, Magenta warned herself.

‘I just make these stipulations for the party,’ Quinn continued. ‘No clichés. No glitz. No threadbare traditions. And, of course, no unnecessary expense. And I love surprises,’ he added, having wiped out most of her plan in a matter of seconds. ‘Eat,’ he insisted.

No one had said this was going to be easy.

‘That was delicious,’ Magenta told Quinn as she helped him to clear up.

He nodded briefly. ‘Let’s get on to your talents, your ideas.’

‘I work in a team.’

‘But it’s your brain I want to mine. Whoever came up with those ideas, it was your drive and initiative that brought them to my attention.’

‘I can’t claim all the credit.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because that’s just not the way we do things.’

‘Do things where?’

Ah. That was a little harder to answer.

Quinn shook his head. ‘If you want to get ahead you’ll have to toughen up, Magenta—unless you want to be stuck outside my door for ever.’

‘I don’t want to be there any more than the girls want to be stuck in the typing pool.’

Quinn’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t push me, Magenta.’

‘You make me sound like the most exasperating woman you ever met.’

‘By far.’

Now they were both smiling.

Feeling Quinn’s heat shimmering on her senses, she glanced at her wristwatch. ‘I’m not sure it’s sensible for me to be alone with you here late at night.’

‘You think you’re in danger?’

‘I think you could charm the pants off anyone.’

‘What colour are they?’

‘What?’

‘Your pants. If I’m going to charm them off you, it would be useful to know what colour they are.’ Quinn’s lips curved wickedly.

Magenta’s cheeks fired red, remembering her flimsy, flesh-coloured almost-pants. They wouldn’t take much thinking away—one tug and they’d be off.

‘Why, Magenta Steele, I do believe you’re blushing again,’ Quinn murmured as he brushed a strand of hair back from her brow.

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