Free The Boss's Proposal by Kristin Hardy Page B

his lips against her skin made her gasp. Desire drummed in her veins. Control was just a memory. It was exhilarating, delicious, delightful, divine. And she wanted more—that clever mouth everywhere on her, his bare skin against hers, those nimble fingers taking her to the edge.
    But beyond the edge lay the abyss.
    Max tensed, feeling a sudden surge of adrenaline that had nothing to do with arousal. What in God’s name was she doing?
    In instinctive defense, she brought her hands down to his chest, wanting to put some kind of barrier between them, any kind of barrier. And waited for the whirlwind to stop. When she could, she turned away,sucking in deep breath after deep breath and taking one step, then another. Because surely if she got some distance from him, even a small amount, her head would clear. Surely then this demand that raged through her would abate, this ache of desire would ease.
    When she circled back, she found Dylan watching her. For an instant, she felt her body yearning toward his again.
    Ignoring it, she leaned down to pick up her computer bag. “We need to get back to the office.”
    â€œWe need to do lots of things.” He gazed at her, eyes dark with intensity. “Just say where and when.”
    â€œHow about not here and not now? Not ever,” she corrected herself. “We are not doing this.”
    â€œWe already are.”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œIs this where you start talking about work and professionalism again?” he asked. “That’s what you do when you get nervous.”
    â€œI’m not nervous.”
    â€œSure you are. I’m not sure why. One of these days you’ll have to tell me. But the next thing you’re going to do is tell me to back off.” He shook his head. “You know, you can pretend all you want that this didn’t affect you—”
    â€œOf course it affected me,” she snapped, “but it doesn’t matter. I keep my personal life out of theoffice. I don’t do colleagues.” She circled around to the passenger door.
    â€œWe’re not colleagues.” He followed her. “I’m on a one-time consulting gig. I don’t live here and in three weeks, I’ll be gone. There’s no reason we shouldn’t take this wherever we feel like taking it.”
    â€œSorry to bruise your ego, but I don’t feel like taking it anywhere. I’m not interested.”
    â€œNo?” He moved swiftly to pin her between the car and his body, one hand against the roof on either side of her. He leaned in just a bit, pressing his body lightly against hers, staying there until against her will she began to tremble.
    Until she began to want.
    â€œI’m sorry to hear you’re not interested. You’ll let me know when you change your mind, won’t you?”
    He opened her door and turned to walk back to the driver’s side, leaving her shaking with what she desperately wanted to think was anger.

Chapter Six
    â€œY ou want us to do what?” Henry Singer, the stocky, sixtyish head of the BRS structural engineering department stared at Dylan across the conference table.
    â€œCut three months out of the production schedule,” Dylan repeated.
    Singer was shaking his head before Dylan even got the words out. “No way.” He glanced at the stack of renderings, floor plans and spec sheets on the surface between them. “Not possible, not for a project this size.”
    â€œYou haven’t even looked at the summary.” Dylan slid a folder across to Singer.
    Singer caught it before it stopped moving andsent it back the other way. “I know the details. I’ve been shadowing this project since we made the short list.”
    â€œWe want to make an even shorter list, Henry,” Max said from where she sat at the end of the table.
    He shook his head. “A couple weeks, maybe even a month, I could do. But not this.”
    â€œPortland General wants the