Marc laughed. “Not this time, but that doesn’t mean he’s on the up and up, either.”
Christian sat on the chair next to Marc, sliding down until his tailbone was nearly off the seat. “I’ll have to be at the meeting, even if it’s just all part of his game.”
“The trick will be figuring out the rules in time to win.”
“Oh, I’ll win. Anthony isn’t half as shrewd as he thinks he is.”
“What about Natalie?”
“Natalie’s mine.”
“I got that, but Anthony won’t. He seems attached.”
“Then I’ll have to unattach him.”
Chapter Seven
NATALIE WAS EATING toast and eggs the next night when Christian walked into the kitchen, looking fresh and rested in a black cashmere sweater, and black slacks that emphasized his narrow hips and flat belly. He looked good enough to eat. Way better than the eggs she’d made, which had started out fried and ended up as some sort of sad hybrid between fried and scrambled. Her momma was a terrific cook; so was her daddy. Natalie? Not so much.
“You want coffee to go with your . . .” Christian gave her plate a doubtful look, and didn’t finish the sentence, as he headed for the espresso machine.
“I used all your eggs,” she informed him, then glanced down at the mishmash on her plate. “I don’t usually cook.”
“And the world thanks you,” he murmured with a small smile, then stopped and stared. “Did you make coffee?” He was frowning at his precious machine in a way that made Natalie think he didn’t like anyone else touching it.
“I did,” she said casually, trying not to laugh, as she sipped her delicious latte. “Do you want some?”
He gave her a horrified look, and she lost the battle, laughing so hard she was afraid the latte was going to come out her nose.
He glared at her, looking a bit insulted. “Do you have a machine at home?”
“Of course, I do. But it’s an ordinary Mr. Coffee. It was fun figuring out the Einstein version, though,” she added, lifting her chin in the direction of his machine.
Christian didn’t say a word, just turned and began inspecting his baby. She’d swear she caught him stroking it and murmuring things to it under his breath at one point, but she wisely kept that observation to herself.
“Most people couldn’t figure her out so quickly,” he said rather sourly.
So the machine was a her. Interesting. “I’m a fast learner.”
“You slept?”
“Several hours,” she lied. She’d slept, all right, but her dreams had been filled with erotic images that weren’t exactly restful. “I woke early, and figured I’d work until you all got up. But then I got hungry.”
“Work?”
“My laptop,” she said, nodding at the computer sitting on the island.
“You have Jabril’s original financials on there?” he asked, his gaze suddenly intent.
“Yeah,” she said slowly, dragging the word out. “Why?”
“Who else has them?”
“No one. Not the latest results anyway. Jaclyn has the original docs, and I usually update her files on the first of the month. But that’s not for a week yet.”
“Does Anthony have access?”
“No. He’s in the monthly meeting I have with Jaclyn, so he gets the verbal report, but not the actual files.”