Giving In (Surrender Trilogy #2)(4)

He knew the summons would annoy her, but she’d been clear about wanting him to stay out of her office—her space—and so he’d make her come to him. Not an unreasonable request from a boss to his personal assistant.

“Right away, sir,” she said in a crisp tone that made him smile.

She was so determined to keep their relationship, if you could even say they had a relationship, strictly impersonal and confined to boss and employee.

He knew she hated that Dash was out of the office for an extended period of time because Dash usually acted as a buffer between Jensen and Kylie. Most of the requests came from Dash, even ones that involved Jensen, because Dash sought to protect her.

But enough was enough. If they were to work together long-term, and he had every intention of doing just that, Kylie had to learn to deal with Jensen. And he planned to push her. She was extremely intelligent. She had an MBA and, in his opinion, that degree was wasted in her current position. It was one she was comfortable in, and he knew she liked it that way.

She liked nothing that pushed her out of her comfort zone. She liked routine—a trait they shared, though it would annoy her that the two of them had anything in common.

But in fact, they had far more in common than Kylie knew or would admit to. They were both disciplined people who liked control. He was fully prepared to be involved in a battle of wills, a battle he intended to win. He just hoped he didn’t push her to the point of her walking away from her job.

A moment later, Kylie appeared at the door, her features locked and impassive as she stared coolly at him.

“You wanted something, sir?”

“You can drop the sir,” he said dryly. “You don’t call Dash sir. My name is sufficient. Call me Jensen or call me nothing at all.”

Her lips thinned and he sighed.

“Is everything going to be a battle with you, Kylie? It was a simple enough request. Say it. Say my name,” he challenged. “It won’t kill you.”

“You wanted something . . . Jensen?”

His name came out strangled-sounding, as if she’d had to force it from her lips. It was a start.

He motioned her to the seat in front of his desk. Reluctantly she walked over and then perched on the edge of the chair, her hands folded primly in front of her, but she had the look of an animal prepared to bolt at the first sign of danger. He doubted she knew that she telegraphed her fear so broadly. Her eyes were wide, her nostrils flaring, and he could see the pulse beating a rapid staccato at her neck.

“I’m not going to leap across the desk and attack you,” he murmured.

Her eyes narrowed in annoyance. “I’d kick your ass if you tried.”

He threw back his head and laughed, and her eyes widened in surprise. She looked . . . shocked. He sobered and glanced curiously at her. “What was that look for?”

She immediately dropped her gaze and remained silent.

“Kylie?” he prompted.

She sighed and then lifted her head, her stare rebellious, her chin thrust upward.

“It’s just that I’ve never seen you laugh. Or smile, really. In my office earlier was the first time I’ve seen you look anything but mildly interested. You don’t show your emotions much. No one can ever tell what you’re thinking.”

His eyebrow quirked upward. So she had been studying him. She knew enough about him for him to realize she’d spent a lot of time observing him and his reactions.

His features relaxed into a smile, as he noted again her surprise.

“I’ve been accused of being an emotionless, uptight bastard by more than one person,” he said in amusement. “Perhaps you draw out another side to me that no one else sees.”

She looked disgruntled by that suggestion.

“You wanted something?” she prompted, obviously anxious for the meeting to be over.

He had no such plans for her to scurry back to the safety of her office where she shut the rest of the world out. He knew she went straight home every day. Didn’t have a social life unless you counted her lunches with Chessy and Joss, her two best friends. In fact, their circle of friends were the only people Kylie had any sort of a connection to.

It had to be a lonely life and he hated that for her. Hated that her past had shaped her future—was still shaping her future—and that she didn’t seem to be able to shake off the bonds of her childhood.

He shuffled the stack of papers in front of him.

“I want you to study up on these profiles. As I said in your office, S&G Oil is downsizing one of their refineries. They need to cut one hundred million in expenses so they’re looking for ways to combine jobs. They want to eliminate at least thirty positions and cut nonessential expenses, and they want us to find those for them.”

She was clearly flabbergasted by his request.

“But Jensen, I know nothing about this sort of thing. I’m an administrative assistant.”

He smiled again, watching her reaction to his expression. She wasn’t indifferent to him and that likely pissed her off all the more.

“I want you to learn,” he said gently. “When Carson was alive, he and Dash were looking to take on a third partner. They certainly had the business. After Carson died it was too much for Dash to handle, and he had to work his ass off to keep the business solvent until he brought me in. There is still a need for a third partner and you have the credentials. All you lack is experience.”