“Yes. But, Douglas –” Julia tried again.
Douglas interrupted again. “Good, I have a phone call to finish.”
And to her amazement, he walked to his desk.
She was dismissed.
She stood there not knowing what to do. She’d never met the like of him. One minute, he was so good-looking, so damned sexy that he made her legs tremble and her stomach pitch, the next minute he was so impossibly autocratic, she felt like throwing something at him.
He picked up his phone as he rifled through some papers and she realised that he didn’t even intend to acknowledge her presence in the room.
She’d been there less than a week, she’d left her entire life behind, the life before her was still uncertain and in the midst of all this she had three children who depended on her and, by the way… him.
She wasn’t supposed to do it alone. Tammy and Gav wanted her to have help and that meant far more than a free meal ticket, the use of a car and Douglas publically bestowing his “favour” on her at art galleries.
She didn’t even wage the battle to control her temper, she just let it lose. She downed the contents of her whisky, gagged momentarily as the fire hit her throat and stormed his desk.
“Excuse me!” she slammed her glass down on its shiny surface making his head come up with a jerk. “I’m sure you’re used to strolling into a board room or wherever you work and making everyone do your bidding but I’m afraid that does not work with me. May I remind you that your sister and my brother expect us, no, they trusted us, no, they honoured us by allowing us to raise those children together and I’m not going to let you throw money at it and then get on with your life like nothing’s changed. You’ll pull your weight, you’ll get involved and you’ll damn well quit telling me what to do all the time, because I’m up to here…” she indicated her chin with an angry thrust of her hand, “with it.”
He had the receiver in his hand but, after she finished, he slowly returned it to its cradle.
“Are you finished?” he asked, his tone completely civil.
She took a deep breath.
Was she finished? She didn’t know. Maybe she went too far.
“No, Julia,” he said quietly, “that was too magnificent to question. Simply score your point and go.”
She faltered. “Did I?” He raised his brow in question. “Score a point,” she explained.
He inclined his head briefly.
She was stunned. She was pleased.
For some reason, she was also scared.
One point meant only one point which meant there was a game afoot here. And she did not want to play games with Douglas Ashton. Douglas Ashton always, always won.
Nevertheless, she thought it prudent to take his advice.
“Well then, thank you for the chat. I feel much better,” she lied. “Goodnight.”
She turned to go but his voice calling her name stopped her.
She turned back.
“Yes?” she asked.
He was looking at her in that pleasant way again, something akin to admiration in his eyes, a look that stole her breath away.
His voice was smooth as silk when he spoke. “Last time you said goodnight to me in this room, it came with a kiss.”
The pleasant tremor slid so far up her spine, it went up her neck and made her scalp tingle just as her stomach flipped.
With a supreme effort of will, Julia ignored it.
“I wasn’t annoyed with you last time,” she informed him haughtily.