They headed up the stairs into a room that looked and felt a lot like a skybox at a sports stadium. Long and narrow, with big windows that faced the enormous screen at the opposite end of the warehouse, Minh couldn’t help but grin at the feeling that she was on the set of a space movie.
She signed the document that Shen gave her without bothering to read it, then handed it back with a polite smile. She was about to ask him to tell her about the film when someone walked through the doorway.
Chris.
She knew it was him before she looked up. Her stomach muscles tightened and her breathing sped up, and she knew. How could this guy do that to her? Hell. How could any guy do that to her?
And then, when she finally did look up and see him, today in herringbone patterned pants and a T-shirt with the cast of Gilligan’s Island printed on it, it was like a full-on sex attack. His tattoos looked like part of the outfit today, a funky mix of color and pattern and whimsy and—
God. Was she really appreciating his odd way of dressing? She was in trouble.
His gaze flicked over the room, taking in her and Shen, and she realized that he looked angry. What was he so angry about? It had better not be because of her. It was barely nine in the morning, and he was the one who had set the interview time. She felt like he was sending mixed signals, confusing her even further.
Did he behave this way with his business associates? If so, he’d probably end up bankrupt soon enough.
Even though that thought should have made her feel justified, concern settled over her. What if he was trying to get loans, or investors, or…whatever? And he showed up looking like he did right now? And acted the way he did with her?
He would fail.
“Morning.” His mouth was drawn tight, and he looked like he hadn’t slept well in days.
“Good morning, Chris.” She gave him a bright smile, trying to emphasize that she was not only punctual, but pleasant and well-mannered. Was it just her, or had his shoulders hunched a bit when she’d said his name? That small action, barely noticeable unless one was studying him as closely as she had been, sparked a realization in her that made her breath stop for a second.
He doesn’t like me.
Chris dropped his bag on the floor, plopped into another chair, and sat back. He propped his feet up on the table and laced his fingers over his stomach, then jerked his chin toward Minh.
“Do you always dress like that?”
She bristled at his tone. Maybe she had gone a bit overboard today—her scalp even hurt because her hair was pulled back so tightly—because she’d been shoring up her defenses against the way he made her feel. But that didn’t mean he was allowed to comment on her wardrobe.
She pulled her shoulders back and did her best to look down her nose at him from where she sat. “Like what?”
He smiled at her. A cocky smile that made all her hackles rise and lock into place. But after barely a second, he frowned and shook his head. He pulled his feet down and leaned forward to look Minh in the eye. “Forget it. I didn’t get much sleep this weekend.”
Had he been about to insult her, then thought better of it? Given their interaction on Saturday morning, she’d expected him to. But he hadn’t. And something in his expression made him look suddenly vulnerable.
Softer.
Shen snorted. “Met another forty-eight-hour girlfriend?”
Hmph. Had she just been thinking he looked softer? Of course he would have such a reputation with women that his employees didn’t feel the need to censor themselves about it in front of strangers. The thought should have made her feel even more smug. But for some reason, a strange sensation fluttered through her that was not unlike…jealousy.
Why did everything feel wrong today?
Chris shook his head slowly, still staring at Minh. Those blue eyes were hot. Focused. She felt her body temperature rise again. “No. Something on my mind.”
The way he said it, all soft and seductive, almost knocked her back. And he wasn’t looking away from her. What had been on his mind, that had kept him up so much? Was it the same thing that had been on hers?
She gripped the edge of the table, trying to keep her fingers from reaching out and grabbing hold of his hand, bringing it to her now-aching breast, pulling him forward until he was climbing across the table to get his lips on hers—
“Sucks.” Shen’s eloquent assessment interrupted that train of thought. “Anyway, I was just about to give Minh the rundown on the script and show her a clip of the lake scene. You want to stick around?”
For a second, Chris hesitated, and that small pause managed to pull Minh out of her lust-addled daze.
Bad idea. He’s a bad idea, and just because you want his body and can’t stop dreaming about him doesn’t mean anything. He’s not for you. He shows up late and has forty-eight-hour girlfriends and tattoos, and he says insulting things. But most of all he makes you want to break all the rules.
But then he slapped a notepad down on the table and threw a pen on top. “Why not the opening?”