Rock Hard (Rock Kiss #2)(29)

“Why, Ms. Baird, I’m shocked.”

Her breathing was rough. “Are you working?” she asked, changing the subject so abruptly that he made himself a promise that one day, he’d find out exactly what she’d been reading tonight—and then he’d make her read it aloud to him while he did naughty, debauched things to her.

“I am,” he admitted, leaning back in the chair where he sat, having spread documents across the dining room table. He liked working there when at home, the vista in front of him a sparkling cityscape.

“You should take time off.” A soft admonition. “You work all the time.”

“I date, as you pointed out,” he said, just to see what she’d say.

“I don’t think what you do is considered dating.”

He grinned at the coolly snippy reply, though his body wasn’t impressed by his continued self-inflicted torture. The fact was, he hadn’t been with a woman since the day he’d realized his PA pushed all his buttons when she wasn’t terrified out of her skin.

Why go for any woman but the one he wanted?

And Gabriel always got what he wanted. “I couldn’t find that memo HR sent yesterday.”

“Check under this file extension.” She rattled it off.

Gabriel touched the memo where it sat right in front of him. “Got it.” He’d called her to make sure she was okay, that her demons weren’t hounding her. “Do you watch that show with the gourmet food and the race?”

A small pause. “Oh, I know the one. I used to, but I have a very demanding boss these days, so I’m never home in time.” When he laughed, she said, “Do you watch it?”

“No, but we’ve had an approach from them to sponsor the next season in return for advertising and in-show placement of Saxon & Archer goods. What do you think?” He knew she loved cooking. Not only had she once come back from lunch having bought a bunch of spices he hadn’t even known existed, she’d refused to work last Saturday morning because she’d had a class to attend.

Something to do with fondant icing and cake sculpture.

Now she gave him her thoughts, and he leaned back and listened. Yes, smart women were his catnip—and Charlotte Baird was very, very, smart.




THE DRIVE THE NEXT morning wasn’t as stressful as Charlotte had worried it might be; the fact she knew and trusted Gabriel didn’t always equal control over her emotional responses, and she’d been terrified her claustrophobia would make an unwanted return. As it was, they ended up working most of the drive, thanks to the fact the company’s CFO was down with food poisoning and Gabriel needed to sign off on things she’d normally handle.

The hiccup wasn’t, however, that big in the grand scheme of things, and Charlotte and Gabriel stuck to their plan to head to Rotorua. Once there, the meeting with the art collective went off without a hitch. The artists were all very protective of their work, but Gabriel’s personal visit and his willingness to work with them in relation to special arrangements for some pieces eased their concerns. The end result was a signed agreement and enthusiasm all around.

“Lunch?” Gabriel asked as they pulled away from the marae, the traditional meeting house set amongst velvety grass that gleamed bright green under the crisp winter sunlight.

“You’ll have to return a call first,” she said, having fielded everything during the meeting. “It’s Brent—he just needs two minutes.”

Gabriel took care of the matter using the car’s hands-free phone system, then turned to Charlotte. “Trust me, Ms. Baird?”

“Not when you smile like that.”




GABRIEL LAUGHED AT THE prim response that didn’t quite manage to hide the twitch of her lips. It made him want to kiss her. “You know me too well.” When her eyes sparkled, he said, “You have a cooking class or anything else you have to be back for tonight?”

“No, not tonight.”

Since he didn’t have coaching commitments either, he said, “Detour to the coast?”

A smile that made his need to kiss her almost unbearable, his heart doing things inside his chest that he was sure weren’t in the least macho. He couldn’t find it in himself to care, because when Charlotte smiled that way, it destroyed him.

“I’d love that.”

Gabriel could feel Charlotte’s pleasure in the coastal scenery the instant it opened up beside them. He, too, loved the twisted beauty of the old pōhutukawa trees, iconic against the blue-green sea that could be as cold as ice, the white sands glittering under sunlight.

Slowing down to let a mother duck and her fat little ducklings pass safely across the road, Gabriel allowed his eyes to linger on Charlotte’s face as she leaned forward to watch. It was rare for him to get a chance to look at his personal assistant without her noticing. When she was aware, he made sure not to do it because it discomfited her. Any attention discomfited her.

Even in the ill-fitting clothes she insisted on wearing, men noticed her petite beauty, but every time one made any kind of an approach, she withdrew. Gabriel had quietly but harshly discouraged one particularly enthusiastic advertising executive. The man had continued to ask her out despite her earlier negative responses, to Charlotte’s increasing distress.

Once Gabriel added his knowledge of that situation to her wariness when he’d dropped her home, he had a very bad feeling he knew how she’d been hurt. If he was right, he had an even harder road ahead than he’d realized. Giving up, however, was simply not an option. He had decided on Charlotte. The first time he’d decided on something, he’d been eight and it had been rugby. A seven-year international pro career later, he’d suffered the injury that took him out of play. So he’d decided on kicking ass and taking names as a man who specialized in rescuing drowning companies.