Bailey: Independence #1 (9 page)

As they filed out, the only thing in front of his vision was the redhead in the sexy business suit and glasses. He could smell her; he could feel her body quiver and explode beneath his touch. He wanted more. He had planned to have her on his tongue, squirming and screaming, tied to his bed for hours.

Christ those thoughts went straight to his cock. He adjusted his slacks and took the folder, striding back to his office.

“Janet,” he said as he went past, leaving the door open.

“How’d the presentation go?”

His admin had been working on something but she was up when he spoke, following behind him, waiting.

“Some pissed off people who better get their act together if they intend to be here this time next year,” he answered with a shrug. “I need a file from human resources and I want it kept between you and Tanya.”

Janet raised her brows at the mention of the head of the department.

“Alright,” she held her notepad up. “Who?”

“Bailey O’Conner.”

“Bailey? What in the world did she do?” Surprise filled the soft features. She knew her boss very well. Or so she thought. The look in his eyes was new and well hidden by the stoic expression on his face.

“You know her?” Gabriel kept his features noncommittal, his voice level. Something he’d honed through the years.

“We’re not lunch buddies,” Janet answered with a little shrug. “But I hear things.”

“Then spill what you hear.” Gabriel leaned back in his chair, hands up behind his head, long legs stretched out before him.

“She’s well liked. Quiet. Usually hiding in the bowels of the IT department fixing computers or other people’s screw ups. She took the training position about eight months ago and it was the best thing Craig could have done. She’s good, thorough and patient,” she pulled in a slow breathe, searching her memory. “I know you’ll find barely a handful of people with issues with her. She’s…nice. She’s older than most in that department, but loves the work and she’s very good at it.”

“Seems I don’t need HR after all. How long has she worked here?”

“A little over three years, I think. Monday’s are training days,” Janet grinned. “I did talk to her once about the suits she wears. She said that it makes the people she’s training take her seriously. Quite the disciplinarian in the classroom, I’ve heard. Strict on the cell phones and toys rule and if you don’t pass her test at the end, she won’t sign off on the training and you repeat. The rest of the time, she’s casual and funky like most of your company,” she teased, taking in his typical three piece suit. “Aside from you.”

“Hey, I wear jeans on Fridays,” he tossed back with a laugh. “Forget HR. You gave me what I wanted to know,” he looked at the stack of folders on his desk and sighed. “Signatures.”

“Stop putting it off and they won’t grow while you’re gone,” she told him with a shrug, closing the door behind her as she left him alone to his thoughts. Huh, she mused. Bailey O’Conner.

He had to let the police know where and who she was. Time for that before the end of the week, he decided, pulling an envelope and sheet of paper from one of the lower drawers. His pen was poised, his mind working out the right words to keep her on edge but not enough that she would run. Again.

Chapter Nine

When nothing catastrophic happened by the end of the day, she kept telling herself that she’d slid past. That he bought her line about just being another face in a crowd. She could be convincing, she thought in the morning, dressing for work. She’d been there for over three years and had never run into him. She could easily go another three without ever seeing him again.

Why did that thought make her stomach hurt?

Bailey buckled the last one on her boots and straightened the skirt before grabbing up her pack and keys, running to her car and dodging the light November rain. It was almost ten when Jeff came into the server room, calling out to her.

“Back here on the floor,” Bailey looked up, blinking and finished the connections before easing herself to her feet. “What did you need?” She asked the man who’d been the lead in the IT department for the last year. “What’s wrong?”

“This is for you. I don’t know what it is or what it says,” he said simply, watching the woman he’d called friend for a few years now. “I was told not to open it. The admin from the third floor just handed it to me.” He stopped only when he saw the blanched look on her face. “Bee? You okay?”

“Oh. Yes. Fine. Thanks, Jeff. She’s a friend. Probably a party or something,” she took the envelope and tucked it into her pocket. “Restroom then I have some systems to upgrade,” she managed to keep her voice level as she walked out of the cooled, controller room.

She was glad no one was in the restroom when she went inside, leaning heavily against the counter. Fingers that shook pulled the five by five inch crème colored envelope from her pocket.

It was the same as the one in her mystery box.

The same one that had led her to Gabriel Garrett and the hottest sex she’d ever had. Well, maybe not quite sex. Was it sex if the man just had his fingers in you? And that sexy voice talking you through a wild orgasm? In front of a dozen or so people.

Bailey was chewing on her lip as she broke the old fashioned wax seal and slid the folded paper from inside. The note was simple and to the point.

This is not an option. A meeting in the third floor office suite at eleven-thirty. Your future will be discussed at this time. GG

Oh, god! He was firing her!

Bailey sunk to the bench against the wall, hastily stuffing the note into the envelope and into her pocket when the door opened. She was breathing too quickly.

He couldn’t fire her. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She knew about him as much as he knew about her.

He was the boss, the little voice argued. He had money and power.

Her hand shook when she raised it to knock on the door precisely at eleven-thirty. Security wasn’t there with a box to escort her from the building. That was a good sign. His admin was out to lunch so no one was there to announce her. Her knees joined her hands when his voice came through the solid wooden door.

“Come in.”

Her stomach clenched and she almost turned and ran. She was pretty sure she’d make it to the elevator before the door opened. Maybe the stairs would be faster. What a day to not wear her sneakers, but the boots did have gripping bottoms…

“Come in, Bailey,” Gabriel sat on the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his chest, waiting.

The door opened very slowly. He didn’t have to be a mind reader to know she was there with great reluctance. His gaze caught sight of a five inch ruffle at her ankles before rising to cruise over her outfit. Dianna’s words came sweeping through him like a hurricane in spring.

He heard Dianna’s laughing voice in the back of his mind.
You are so fucked
.

There was silence as she stepped fully around the door, alert, wide eyes darting around the large office. She’d never been in the admin area before. Aside from the human resources department; that was more like IT than this. This was plush. Heavily cushioned dark leather sofa and chairs; a big, deep cherry colored desk and wide window betraying Puget Sound far below.

While she was taking in the décor, Gabriel took inventory of her wardrobe and the woman inside. No dim lights today and no rushed tech assistant doing her best to complete a task and run for the hills.

A five inch swath of crème colored lace was wrapped around her head, holding the dark copper curls back from her face. In the bright light of day, he noticed the smattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks. The portion of her face she’d kept hidden from him all long night long at the club. She wasn’t pale, but not tanned, either. Her lashes were dark and thick and he noticed the hint of makeup that he thought might be used to hide the freckles. That he didn’t like. She reminded him of an image of a healthy farm-girl in the middle of Ireland. Abruptly the image flashed off like a presentation with Bailey O’Conner bent over a bale of hay or stretched over a fine leather saddle beneath a spring sun.

The dress looked to be a simple cotton peasant style, with an elastic neckline that scooped down, three quarter length sleeves and a skirt that ended just above her ankle boots. All in a shade of apricot that probably wouldn’t have worked without the last, final addition that he hadn’t been able to tear his eyes from.

Leather the color of a soft caramel and hugging her like a vice. The bustier was made with harness type shoulders and fit beneath the small, rounded breasts that he never got around to tasting. Four buckles fit down the front and matched the ones on her ankle boots.

Oh, yeah. He was definitely fucked. One incredible image after another lodged in his very male brain and shot straight to his cock.

“I’m glad you could make it for lunch,” Gabriel rose slowly, extending his palm toward the table set up in the other half of the room.

Bailey looked around, barely breathing. No one else was there. It wasn’t a supervisor meeting. No one was there from human resources. So why was it still so hard to breathe?

“Are you going to fire me?” The words shot out of her mouth in a rush, one palm up and over her lips.

“Why would I fire you? Half the company thinks you walk on water, the other half is afraid of you,” Gabriel laughed. “I’d be cutting my own throat if the company lost you, Bailey. Which, by the way, I much prefer to the letter Bee.”

She swallowed. “It’s what they’ve always called me in comp classes.”

“Lunch, Bailey?”

“I can’t have lunch with you.” She informed him primly, her head shaking adamantly.

“You owe me an explanation and I chose to have it over lunch.” Gabriel took a step forward and gripped her fingers, stopping suddenly and holding her attention. The sight of the slim leather struck him harder than a punch to the midsection. His palm rose, fingers out to touch the leather collar he’d placed there on Friday night. “Why did you wear this?”

“I…it seemed to fit the dress,” she said barely hearing her own voice. She was positive waves were crashing inside her head and she was on the beach somewhere drowning.

“What else did it mean, Bailey?” His throat was dry, his voice low and compelling. “I expect answers when I ask questions. We aren’t at work. We’re on lunch. We’re alone and what happens between us has nothing to do with work. Are we clear?”

“You’re not going to fire me?”

“I am not going to fire you. I am not your supervisor and I like running a profitable, successful company and you’re a part of that,” he said immediately, watching the relief flood her eyes. “Nothing that happens between us will result in your termination from this company. Does that help?”

She nodded slowly.

“What else does this mean, Bailey?”

Her tongue came out, drawing much needed moisture around the full bow of her lower lip.

“It means I belong to you,” she said, the faintest of quivers in her voice.

“What else?”

“That you can do what you please with me unless I use the safe word.”

“Which is?”

“Summer,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Will you please come have lunch with me?”

“I don’t know if I could eat,” but she walked with him toward the table that occupied a corner off from the main office. A sliding divider could be used to completely block it from sight but was open now. She watched him step forward and lift covers, steam and fragrance filling her senses. “That’s one of my favorites,” she said in amazement, her gaze up and on his instantly.

“I heard the Vietnamese soup was your all-time favorite but that was a little more difficult to get here for lunch. Since I’ve never had it, I’m hoping we could go to dinner and you can introduce me to it. However, since I wasn’t able to procure the soup for you, I went with what one of your friends suggested was a second favorite,” Gabriel gestured to the chair and took the seat opposite her when she sat down finally. He began eating, one brow lifted and aimed at her plate.

Bailey sighed and lifted the fork to coil the creamy pasta around it before taking a bite of the pasta covered with cheese and prawns. Then she realized what he said, chewed quickly and swallowed.

“Oh, god! You didn’t? You’ve asked people about me?” She gaped at him in disbelief.

“Not me personally,” he chuckled and began eating his own pasta. “I have spies I send out for that kind of thing. Why did you leave the club, Bailey?”

He knew something was wrong the instant she wouldn’t look at him, her focus on the prawn she selected and bit into.

“I didn’t belong there,” she finally said quietly, her stomach suddenly giving off another clench when his palm slapped the table and her gaze flew to his.

“I don’t care if you lie to every fucking person in this company, Bailey, but you will not lie to me. I promised you truth and I expect the same in return,” he waited for the words to sink in. “Why did you leave?”

“I…I saw someone. Someone I knew. From here,” she answered jaggedly.

“That’s it?” Gabriel raised a brow and shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to check the membership list. Who was it?” He sighed at the stubborn tilt to her chin, the green eyes defiant. “Why did it worry you?”