Talking Dirty with the CEO - By Jackie Ashenden Page 0,21
patience and his concentration.
He hated it. The endless succession of people, the same conversations over and over again, trying to remember names, trying to remember faces. The whole thing made him restless and unable to focus.
It was different when he was researching or developing something. When that happened, he was the very definition of focused, staying up all night, working all day. That quality had enabled him to get the E-Slate to market far quicker than any of his competitors, and that was why Ashton Technology was always at the forefront of innovation.
The ADHD had may have played merry hell with his personal life, but it had given him the edge when it came to his business, at least.
An hour later, the aide was back with some information.
It turned out that his Naughtygirl was in fact Christie St. John, a tech journalist for one of the better technology mags. A fact that certainly explained her very specific knowledge of his stereo.
“And here’s her most recent article,” the aide said, thrusting the most recent issue of Total Tech into his hand.
Distracted, Joseph waved a group of people away and stepped over to the side of the ballroom to read it. The article concerned the Internet dating scene, an informative and amusing bit of fluff about her encounter with a certain Studman500.
Ah, so that was why she’d been out on the date. She’d been researching her article. Perhaps that was also why she’d run out on him. Unless she’d expected to end up on his bathroom vanity…
But that wasn’t likely, was it? She’d tried to hide it, but he could tell she’d been nervous and unsure of herself. And if he hadn’t picked up on it with her intermittent stutter and flashes of vulnerability, then her fleeing the scene of the crime in his bathroom certainly gave it away.
Quickly he scanned the article again, unable to stop the grin that curled his mouth. Man, she was good. The wit he’d noticed in her IM conversation was right there in the dry, funny way she’d written about their date. She hadn’t included the sexy part but she’d put in their chat about his hi-fi unit.
“Joseph?”
He looked up from the magazine as Liz, his chief media officer, approached. “What is it?”
“The interviews are due to start in a couple of minutes. Are you ready? There’s a suite upstairs for you.”
A sudden thought struck him. “Do I have an interview with anyone from Total Tech?”
Liz whipped out her E-Slate, flicking through the apps on the screen. “Ah, let me see…yes, you do. Total Tech is up first.”
“The name?”
“Uh…Christie St. John.”
Well, well, well. Looked like he was going to get his explanation after all.
A feeling of intense satisfaction settled inside him.
“Good.” He handed a surprised Liz the magazine. “Let’s get on with it then.”
Upstairs, the hotel suite set aside for the interviews had been prettified with flowers, a plate of fruit and even a bottle of champagne on ice for his personal use. But Joseph ignored both the fruit and the champagne.
He paced over to the windows, surprised by the intensity of his anticipation. Then turned as the door opened and Liz came in, a tall, female figure trailing behind her. “Christie St. John from Total Tech,” she announced and stood aside.
And there she was, standing in the middle of the room. His Naughtygirl.
Over the past couple of days he’d thought that maybe he’d imagined her sexiness. Built her up into something more than she had been. But looking at her now, he realized that in fact he’d underestimated her attraction. Because, goddammit, even without the stretchy black dress, she was something else.
She wore a loose black band T-shirt with the grinning skull on it he’d noticed earlier, her long, fabulous legs encased in tight black jeans. He liked the jeans. Very much. Though the T-shirt could be tighter, all the better to showcase the round perfection of her breasts.
Unable to help himself, he took in her figure, dropping down to her legs, then farther down to…velvet Docs?
The launch had been a high-class affair. Black tie all the way.
But not, apparently, for Christie St. John.
Unexpected. Unusual. Fascinating.
Liz left the room while Christie gave him a curiously defiant look. “Hello, Mr. Ashton. I’m Christie—”
“I know who you are.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You do?”
Right. So she was going to pretend nothing had happened between them? Annoyance cut through his fascination. Why the hell would she do that? Had she not enjoyed what they’d done together?
“What? You mean apart from