The Price Of Scandal(78)

Reluctantly, she rose. I settled her into my lap and wrapped my arms around her. Finally. Touching her, holding her like this slowed everything down. Made everything make sense.

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m magically going to change and become—”

“What? A girlfriend?”

She shrugged. “You know better than anyone how busy I am. If you do win our little wager and the IPO goes through, it’s not going to slow down. If anything, I’ll be even busier. I’ll have shareholders to answer to. Not to mention the forest-slaughtering paperwork required for public companies. I’m going to have to give up my Wednesday nights,” she said wistfully.

“Is it what you want?” I asked neutrally.

“It’s what I’ve been working toward.”

And we were back to the non-answers.

I changed tactics. “Knowing what I know about you, Emily Stanton, I’m surprised you’re taking Flawless public.”

“That’s an indirect way of calling me a control freak.” She laughed.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a control freak. I find it rather attractive,” I said, brushing my mouth over the top of her head.

“You find just about everything attractive.”

“It’s not my fault you make everything sexy,” I teased. She snuggled closer, and I savored the moment. Terrifying boss Emily was alluring. Competent CEO Emily was charming. Giddy-in-the-lab Emily was delightful. But this softer side was something entirely different. I was powerless against vulnerable Emily.

“What do you really want, Emily?” I asked quietly.

She burrowed her face in my neck, and I felt her lips on me. “You. Now.”

I wanted a bigger picture. I wanted her to step back and really look at the life she was building. To decide if that’s what she wanted or if there was something else. Something more. Something different.

But then she was scraping her teeth over my jaw, and I was going hard.

“You didn’t show me the bedroom yet,” she whispered.

“Let’s rectify that,” I said, standing with her in my arms.





36





Emily





“Billionaire breaks internet with sassy new cut”

“Salons city-wide report flood of requests for the Emily cut”

“Hotter before or after? Emily Stanton’s aggressive haircut”





I was off my game today. I’d accidentally spent the night at Derek’s after a few hours of leisurely yet mind-blowing lovemaking. The man was a sex god, and he was at my beck and call. I’d overindulged, woken up twined around him like a vine, and had to do a mad scramble home to shower and change.

Things had changed this weekend. Gears had shifted. I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what had happened, but I felt vaguely anxious and excited.

I blamed it on being too late for coffee. I stormed the offices of Flawless like a warrior charging the enemy. Jane trotted on my heels to keep up.

Derek was at his office, taking care of someone else’s crisis for once. And I was going to take advantage of the babysitter-free time to get some of my actual work done.

“Rosario, can you have two double espressos sent up to my office?” I asked on my way past the front desk.

“Absolutely, Ms. Stanton. Your haircut is killer.”

I’d styled it myself in a rush this morning and had to admit it still looked pretty fantastic.

“Thank you,” I called over my shoulder.

It was the first of many haircut compliments volleyed my way as I headed for my office. It was just hair, people. Get a grip.

“I see you played with scissors this weekend.”

Maxim lounged in the salon’s doorway in a purple shirt that appeared to be missing a few buttons and a leather hip holster for his styling tools. His mustache twitched.

“Do you approve?” I asked, fluffing the short layers.

He gave me a long follicular perusal. “I do,” he said finally. “Who is this hair maestro? Tell me their name so I can add them to my mortal enemies list. Miami isn’t big enough for the two of us.”

“I think your reputation is intact,” I said with an eye roll. “Derek isn’t in the hair game professionally.”

“Well, well, well,” Maxim mused. “Mr. Fixer appears to be excellent with his hands.”

Jane snorted, and I elbowed her, earning a wheeze and then her silence.

“Good morning, Ms. Stanton,” my assistants chorused.

“Great hair,” Valerie grinned.

“Love it,” Easton said, not to be one-upped.

“Thanks,” I said dryly, picking up my messages.

Jane and I stepped inside, and I leaned against the door.

“The amount of time and energy people spend on my hair is ridiculous,” I complained to her. “Why are they interested in my hair? Why would they buy a shirt just because I wore it?”

“Because they want to be like you,” Jane said, cracking her gum.

I ditched my bag in its usual place and headed straight for my desk. “Then go to college and study biochemistry and spend every waking minute building a company.”

Jane snorted. “That’s idealistic.”