His for the Taking

Twelve



The French bistro where Greg had made reservations was located in a discreet brick building just off Sixth Street in downtown Austin. The waitstaff was French, the food was fresh and authentic, and the softly lit, informal rooms with their lace curtains and their cut flowers in old French liquor bottles had a sweetly romantic air.

Not that Maddie felt the least bit romantic. What she felt was a burning fury that Cole was so determined to have his way that he didn’t care who he crushed to get it.

Since the restaurant was so popular, the small rooms were crowded, even at one-thirty, and the two of them were jammed so tightly into a tiny corner booth that every time she moved her thigh brushed Cole’s. Despite her anger, she blushed in response.

Sulkily, she ordered her usual salade verte while Cole cheerfully ordered a croque-monsieur for himself. When their food came, they ate in silence. Only after she’d finished chewing her last scrap of lettuce did Cole speak.

“What time’s your all-important fundraiser?”

“Seven,” she said, her voice low, tense and sullen.

“What time does Noah get out of his camp?”

“That’s none—”

“What time?” His tone was harsh and deliberately calculated to intimidate her.

“Four. But I’m going to leave him in aftercare until nearly six because I’ve got a lot of work…”

“I want to meet him—before the fundraiser—so change your plans,” Cole said. “You’re going to pick him up at four and bring him to the house. I’ll be waiting for you there.”

“That would mean I’d have to leave the office at three-thirty.”

“Then do it.”

She met his eyes, intending to argue, but his face appeared to be carved in stone. “I have a meeting with a board member at three,” she said.

“I suggest you show him my check. Then tell him there’ll be more, a whole lot more, tonight at the fundraiser, but only if you keep me happy.”

“I’m not letting you take over—”

“I’m not sure you have a choice,” he said smoothly. “I can assure you that if you make me happy, you’ll have the most successful fundraiser in My Sister’s House’s history, which you’ve indicated is crucial this year. Then you’ll be able to keep your position for as long as you wish. But if you continue to fight me, not only will you risk losing your precious job, you could end up in an expensive custody battle that you might not win.”

She flinched.

“So, back to this afternoon,” he continued pleasantly. “If you’re smart, and I think you are, you’ll tell your board member I’m demanding another meeting with you after four. If you take off early, I promise you, my generosity will more than make up for those lost two hours in your office.”

I mustn’t let him do this to me! But for the life of her she couldn’t figure out a way to stop him.

“I…I’ll never marry you after this,” she whispered defiantly.

“That’s a battle for another day…or night,” he said, smiling. “One I don’t intend to lose.”

Ignoring the way she tensed, he held up his hand and signaled the waiter for the check.