Sleeping with the Boss (Anderson Brothers, #1)(29)

Chapter Nine


Will turned his phone off and threw it on the seat behind him as he moved over to Claire’s side.

“No way. Stay as far away from me as possible.” She pointed to the corner opposite her.

He moved to where she indicated. “It’s not what you think.” He pushed the button to talk to Jacob. “Please drive directly to Miss Maddox’s apartment.”

“Yes, sir.”

She stared at him, unblinking. He looked almost helpless slumped in the seat across from her. Almost. She knew better. She’d heard his brother.

It all made sense now. She never could quite wrap her head around why a man like Will Anderson would want to spend time with her. Well, now she knew. He wanted to pump her for information. Literally. A wave of nausea tumbled through her.

“To think I almost…” She couldn’t look at him. “That I let you…” In her peripheral vision, she saw him squirm and she thought about what he was doing to her when Michael had called and interrupted them. Thank heavens he called. “My God. I was about to…” Her sentence fell off into a sob. How could she have been so stupid?

“Claire. Please listen.”

Her shock had shifted to anger—pure and sharp and deep—clawing its way up from her gut and ripping straight through her heart on its way to the surface. She’d been mad at Eric for his selfishness, confused and hurt when she found her mother’s letter, and sad when her grandparents had died, but she’d never been betrayed and used—and at this moment, the only thing she was sure of was that she would never let it happen again. Never.

“You were going to sleep with me to find out if I was a spy? What kind of spy?”

“Someone is poaching clients using inside information.”

A cold chill ran down her spine. He suspected her of spying on his company. “You were on a recon mission, huh? Just a job, wasn’t it, Will?”

He had a stricken look on his face. “No!”

“Why on earth did you and your brother suspect I was a spy?”

“Because you fit the description given by clients. You started work right when the cases began. You have access to the information. You understand the value of antiquities. And you have five-f*cking-million dollars in your bank account as of yesterday.”

Well, if she thought she was mad before, she had to redefine it now. Will had just raised the bar for furious. “Stop the car.”

“Hell, no.”

“How do you know about the money?”

His eyes shifted to his lap before they met hers. “I overheard you talking to Heather on the phone about being rich and leaving the country. About not liking people snooping.”

She thought back over that conversation and saw how in light of the other coincidental things, that could have been misconstrued, but… “I never specified the amount. How do you know how much?” Then she remembered the guy who’d asked Heather about her. And Will knew where she lived even though she had not put it in her Anderson file. Angry prickles shifted up her neck. “You had me investigated. You’ve got some super-spy thing going on, don’t you?”

From the look on his face, she knew she’d hit it on the nose. What she really wanted to do was hit his nose. “What else did you find out about me? That I eat ice cream right out of the container and dance naked in my living room?”

“You do?”

“No! I was making that up.” Sort of. Actually, she was kind of trying to come off her anger a bit since she could almost see how he would suspect her. It still gave him no excuse to sleep with her if he thought she was stealing from his business. Something was still off.

“You said you’d give me five minutes to explain. So far, I haven’t gotten to do much other than defend myself. Please hear me out,” he said, hands clenched in his lap.

She leaned back and crossed everything she could cross, making herself as closed off as possible. “Five minutes.”

He grabbed his knees and leaned forward. “I came into town at Michael’s request. He had evidence that there was a spy working at the auction house.”

She glanced unseeingly at her watch. “Four minutes left.”

He frowned. “At first, you looked like a good candidate, but then I came to your office—”

“To get evidence and information out of me.”

“No! To get my coat back. But you were cute and funny—and hot. And you have a great ass.”

“You’re pushing your luck. Three minutes.”

“Bullshit. I have not used two minutes.”

She smirked and recrossed her legs. “So you decided you wanted to bang me and find out if I was the spy.”

“Yes…I mean no. I mean, I wanted to get to know you—”

“Bang me and find out if I was the spy.”

“Date you. I knew you weren’t a spy the minute I touched you.”

“So your fingers and lips are spy detectors? You should hire out, Mr. Anderson.”

He ran his hands over his hair. She suspected he’d have pulled his hair if it were long enough. “You said you’d hear me out.”

“Two minutes.”

“You are unbelievable!” he said, scooting to the edge of the seat.