The Elliotts: Mixing Business with Pleasure: Billionaire's Proposition / Taking Care of Business / Cause for Scandal

His assistant waved her inside.

Gannon looked up from his desk, which was uncharacteristically covered with papers and photos.

“How did this happen?” she asked.

“Current events. Breaking stories. Fill-in reporter, new photographer.” He shook his head in disgust. “The good news is the photographer took lots of shots, so we should be able to find something.”

“Okay,” she said, moving to his desk. “Tell me where you want me to start.”

Eight

Erika and Gannon worked nonstop through lunch on the features, rewriting and editing. Erika made phone calls to obtain clarification. Gannon sent the photos they selected to their photo editor.

The time passed like lightning. If she thought about the way they worked together—as if she were one hand and he were the other—then it might have freaked her out. But they were too busy.

With her focus on the feature articles, she shouldn’t have noticed him too much, but she did. She inhaled his aftershave and wanted to drown in it. He raked his fingers through his hair and she wanted to touch his hair. Once, his hand grazed hers and she felt a thrill race through her. She met his gaze and what she saw there stopped her heart.

As if both of them knew they couldn’t let down their guard, they both looked away and forged on. By the end of the day, though, she couldn’t help staring at his mouth when he talked.

At six-thirty, when they finished what had initially looked like mission impossible, she felt giddy.

Gannon sank into his chair and pulled his tie off. He’d loosened it hours ago. He met her gaze and chuckled. “Cheers to us.”

She smiled in return. “Cheers to us. All we need is some champagne.”

He lifted his hand. “I have some,” he said and rose toward a minibar on the other side of his large office. Underneath the cherrywood bar he opened a small refrigerator and pulled out a chilled bottle of champagne. “Cristal.”

She gaped at the bottle, then at him. “That’s a little extravagant, isn’t it?”

“Are you saying we don’t deserve it?” he asked, unwrapping the foil. He grabbed a towel from beneath the counter and popped the cork.

“I guess it’s too late to debate now.” She stood. “Do you have glasses?”

He tilted his head behind him. “Lower left cabinet.”

Erika walked to the cabinet and pulled out two crystal flutes. “These are beautiful. They look like Water-ford.”

“My mother gave them to me. Hinting,” he said, moving toward her and pouring the sparkling wine into the glasses she held. “Have a seat,” he said, pointing to the chairs on the other side of his desk.

Erika sank into her chair while Gannon sat next to her. “To conquering the mission impossible,” she said, lifting her glass, enjoying his mussed look and the hint of a five-o’clock shadow on his jaw. She liked him when he looked a little rough around the edges. She also liked him when he was wearing a black suit. Then again, she really liked him with just a sheet or nothing at all.

He clicked his glass against hers. “To our friendship,” he said.

She took a sip of the wine and then another. “Very good, of course.”

“Very good.”

“So what was your mother hinting about?”

“Me settling down and getting married.”

“Ah. What did you tell her?”

“Same thing I always tell her. When the time and the woman are right.”

She took another sip to cover the odd mix of feelings inside her. “I get some of the same thing from my mother.”

“What do you tell her?”

“I change the subject and ask how her bridge game is,” she said, and thought about the baby contract that Gannon hadn’t produced. She told herself to be a little more patient.

“That’s pretty good. I’ll have to remember it for future reference.” He topped off her glass. “Drink up. We should finish this.”

“And end up with a champagne headache? I don’t know. But maybe it’s worth it if it’s Cristal,” she said, feeling a conspiratorial thrill as she let herself sink into his gaze. She took another few sips and felt a flush of heat. “Whew. With no lunch, this is going straight to my head.”

“I can take care of that,” he said in a voice that reminded her that he could take care of her in a lot of ways.

Feeling a twist of flat-out lust form in her belly, she closed her eyes and took another long sip. “Oh, what a day. A blur. Do you think your father will be happy with what we did?”

“Ecstatic,” Gannon corrected. “In his way.”

She smiled at his dry tone and opened her eyes. “He’s not the kind to jump up and down very often, is he?”

“No, but he always makes it clear if he’s pleased or not.”

“And he’s almost always pleased with you,” she ventured.

“There have been a few times that I set him off, but I’m the oldest.”

She understood because she was the oldest in her family. “The bar is higher.”

Gannon nodded and lifted his hand to her cheek. “What about you?”

She should move away, she told herself. She was breaking both the time and distance rules, but she liked the way that one finger of his felt on her skin. The slow movement was mesmerizing. “I’m the oldest, too, but I’m lucky. I don’t work for my mother or father. I live in a different state. At the same time, you can take the girl out of Indiana, but you can’t take Indiana out of the girl.”

He smiled. “Soft heart under the black suit, hot chocolate. Do you miss your parents?”

She nodded. “Sometimes, but I think a little distance can be a good thing.”

“Can’t disagree.”

“Yet you stay.”

He shrugged. “I never considered anything else. I never really wanted anything else.”

“Never? You never had a rebellious moment as a teenager or as a college kid?”

“Okay,” he relented. “So there was a week or two when I seriously considered becoming a fly fisherman’s guide in Montana.”