No Denying You

Emma watched in shock as Brant moved like he was Justin Freaking Timberlake. Why was he torturing her like this? She had wanted him to impress her friends as a good piece of arm candy, but she hadn’t actually wanted them to admire him enough to follow him like the Pied Piper.

If the looks he was receiving were any indication, the women loved him and the men hated him. Her Mr. December had taken the reunion by storm, and she didn’t think there was anyone in the room who wasn’t affected by him in some way. Had she created a monster?

Emma moved up behind him, sliding her arm around his waist as she moved her hips against his.
That’s right, baby. I saw
Dirty Dancing
at least a dozen times.
He stiffened against her for a moment until he recognized her. He turned, pulling her against him, chest to chest. He whispered in her ear as they danced together, “I only want your hand on my ass, baby. I think Jill knows that now.”

The desire she had been battling all evening came surging back, and she felt with certainty that if she didn’t have him soon, she would explode.

The Danvers Novels

Weekends Required

Not Planning on You

Fall for Me

Fighting for You

Betting on You
(Penguin digital special)

SIGNET ECLIPSE

Published by the Penguin Group

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First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,

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Copyright © Sydney Landon, 2014

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ISBN 978-0-698-18265-3

PUBLISHER’S NOTE

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

As always, this book is dedicated to my husband and children. They handle the world of make-believe that I live in half the time without complaint.

A special note of thanks to Scott and Ida Cash. I am so grateful for your tireless support of my books.

To my friends Donnie and Lisa (the Breakfast Club). Sometimes in this world, you are lucky enough to form bonds that last for a lifetime, and I’m blessed to have you in my
life.

“Honey, have you given any more thought to getting some bigger tits?”

Emma rolled her eyes and dropped her head onto her desk. Why couldn’t her mother bake cookies, knit sweaters or do any of that other Betty Crocker shit? No-o-o, she couldn’t be that lucky. Katrina Davis—or Kat, as she liked to be called—had always wanted to be the cool mom on the block. Heck, most of Emma’s childhood friends still called her mother for advice. The woman didn’t pull any punches. “God, Mom, can we please not talk about my tits today? Or lack of them?”

“Em, it’s for your own good. You’re too attractive to sit at home all the time. Men are visual creatures, so maybe a new rack is exactly what you need. Your father can’t keep his hands off mine. And you’re not getting any younger. You don’t want to wake up one day and have them fall out of bed before you do.”

“Gross, Mom. This whole conversation is really gross. I don’t want to hear anything about your sex life with Daddy. Ever. I’d like to be able to look him in the
eyes just once without the constant stream of images in my head of the things you feel the need to confide to me. Maybe you should just go Catholic—then you could confess to someone with a more professional opinion.”

“Oh, Em, get over it. I’m just trying to help. You know what? I’ll even pay if I can pick them out. I’ll e-mail you some information and you can let me know what you think.”

“Mom, for the last time, I like my tits just fine!” As soon as she shouted that last bit, Emma froze at the sound of a throat clearing behind her.
Please tell me that the asswipe isn’t behind me, ple-e-ease.
As she swiveled slowly in her chair, she groaned. Fate definitely wasn’t on her side. Her boss, Brant Stone, stood behind her with his usual condescending smirk. She quickly said her good-byes to her mother although she could hear her still speaking as she gingerly placed the receiver back in the cradle. Determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her rattled, she raised a brow, asking as politely as she could manage, “Did you need something?”

“Apparently not as badly as you do, Emma.”

Oh great, here it comes, another jab at my work performance. I wonder how much jail time I would get if I choked him with the paisley tie he’s wearing.
Turning her back to nonchalantly pick up her coffee cup, she said, “Pardon?”

“I am positively riveted by your plight,” he replied.

More obscure code to unravel.
She spent half of her
time trying to figure out what in the hell he was talking about. She knew he did it on purpose, the sneaky bastard. “I bet you are, considering you cause most of my misery.” She knew it was unprofessional as well as career suicide to talk to her boss this way, but she kept hoping he would have her transferred to another department so that he could find someone more suitable for his assistant. So far, that hadn’t happened. She had even started dropping hints, but, like every suggestion she made, he seemed to completely ignore it.

“That’s flattering, Emma, but I don’t think I can accept responsibility for your . . . shortcomings.”

Her coffee cup fell from her suddenly limp fingers and crashed to the floor. Then she plowed into him as she jumped back to avoid the hot liquid. “Shit!” The carnage continued as they both fell backward like dominoes. When she managed to get her bearings, she was horrified to realize that Brant was laid out on the floor underneath her, and her butt was nestled firmly near his crotch. Coffee stains were splattered all over his perfectly creased slacks, and it took her a moment to realize why her legs seemed so bare as they lay tangled with his. Her short skirt had blown up during their fall and was now resting well above the level considered legal in most states. Was that . . . ? No, it couldn’t be. . . .

Without thinking, she wiggled around experimentally.
No way!
Her boss, the spawn from hell, was not growing hard against her bottom.
Oh my God, he was!

“I didn’t realize that ruining my clothing also came with a lap dance.” When she froze, he chuckled. “Oh,
by all means, don’t stop now. Even someone with small tits is a turn-on when she’s grinding against your lap.”

Emma jumped up as if she were on fire. “You are such an asshole. I should file sexual harassment charges against you. I’m pretty sure there are rules in the
Danvers Handbook
against discussing my tits.”

Brant snorted as he rose to his feet. “I’m pretty sure there are also rules in there about talking about said tits on a company telephone on company time, and I’m even more sure there is a section about job performance.”

If she didn’t hate the man so much, she would be impressed by the way he excelled at sarcasm. She had worked for Brant Stone for about six months at the communications company Danvers International. Jason Danvers, owner of the company, had bought out the family company that was previously run by Brant and his sister, Ava. They had both come to work at Danvers in vice presidential roles after the merger.

Brant’s younger brother, Declan, also worked for Danvers, although he hadn’t been involved in the Stone family business. He had recently married Ella Webber, a receptionist on the fourth floor who had become a good friend of Emma’s. It was the most recent wedding in a string of couplings at the company. Jason had married his secretary, Claire, and the Merimon brothers, Grayson and Nick, had also settled down. Gray was married to Suzy, who handled the special events for Danvers; Nick was married to Beth, Suzy’s sister and assistant. They had recently had a new baby.

As far as romance was concerned, Danvers seemed to be the place to work if you were looking to find a significant other. So far it hadn’t helped her, though. Instead, she was stuck with a shit head for a boss and a vibrator for date night. Life sucked in that area.

When Brant snapped his fingers in front of her face to get her attention, she stuck her tongue out at him. She simply couldn’t resist, although she did refrain from giving him the verbal slapdown he so richly deserved. She settled for muttering, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He actually looked disappointed before he turned and stalked off to his office.

When her phone rang yet again, she groaned, praying it wasn’t her mother. “Brant Stone’s office.”

“You sound like someone pissed in your corn flakes.”

Emma released a sigh of relief as she heard her friend Suzy’s voice on the line. They may not have known each other for very long, but recognizing fellow smart-asses in each other, they had bonded pretty quickly. “Ugh . . . just the usual kind of morning nonsense with Mr. Sunshine. Maybe a little worse than usual.”

“You’ll have to tell me more; I could use a laugh. How about lunch today? Claire, Beth and Ella are going to the mall for some baby stuff and I’d really like to pass on that.”

“I hear you, girl,” Emma agreed. “I’ll meet you downstairs around noon if that works for you?”

“Sounds good; stay out of trouble.”

Emma did manage to work with Brant the rest of the morning without incident until he came out of his office as she was preparing to go to lunch. “Where are you eating? You don’t mind if I go, do you?”

For a minute Emma stood there gaping at him. “Are you kidding?”

“Actually, yes. Going to Taco Bell and watching you drip your taco fixings all over the table isn’t my idea of a relaxing lunch. I would like you to pick me up something at the deli around the corner, though, on your way back in.”

Emma huffed in dramatic fashion. She didn’t bother telling him that she was having lunch with Suzy there. “I guess it’s asking too much that you get your own lunch.Who runs all of your errands in the evening? Do you have a maid that you keep chained up in your kitchen?”

Brant perched on the corner of her desk, grinning. “What a great idea; are you looking for a second job? If you were on the clock for twenty-four hours, I might be able to get eight hours of actual work out of you.”

She gave him a sympathetic look before saying, “You’ve really got it bad. You deserve so much better than me.”

Brant gave her a wary look before saying, “True.”

“How about I bring you back a nice lunch and then we fill out the paperwork to have me transferred to another department. Somewhere in this building is the uptight assistant of your dreams. Just think, by Monday you could both be boring each other to death. Just say the word.”

He was already shaking his head before she finished speaking. “I don’t think so, Miss Davis. If you would like to quit, that is your choice, but I won’t be transferring you. If you’re going to work at Danvers, then you are going to be working here.”

Emma looked at him, truly puzzled. “I really don’t get it, you know. You hate everything about me. Our personalities don’t mesh at all and you’d be much happier with someone else in this position, but you won’t sign the transfer request. Why? Are you like one of those guys who enjoy being tortured? Do you have mommy issues? What gives?”

He gave her that superior look that he did so well and said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Walking straight back into his office, he tossed out, “Don’t forget my lunch,” before he shut the door behind him.

She knew it was childish, but she flipped the bird toward his door before going to meet Suzy for lunch.

If there was one person at Danvers who made her feel normal, it was Suzy. She was brash, loud and irreverent, but those qualities were tempered with an eye-catching beauty that basically gave her a free pass. Emma found her standing in the lobby waiting for her. Her long red hair was loose and she was twirling a lock around her finger as she stood on impossibly high heels that matched her black leather skirt.

Emma had always felt her long brown hair was unremarkable, and it resurfaced every time she admired
Suzy’s hair. She had started having blond highlights added to it a few years back, which had helped. Her fashion sense was similar to Suzy’s, although Suzy probably carried it off better. They both preferred trendy clothes over the tailored business professional look. Today Emma was wearing a short plaid skirt with black chunky heels and a black blouse. She and Suzy both seemed to veer toward black.

They headed out the door and around the corner to the deli. Suzy rolled her eyes as they passed by a crew of workers patching a hole in the road. The wolf whistles from the men continued until they were inside. Apparently, the lack of encouragement wasn’t a deterrent. Once they were seated, Suzy took a sip of her water with lemon while Emma tried to keep herself from drinking her entire sweet tea in one gulp. “So how are things with Mr. Sunshine today?” Suzy smirked.

Scowling, Emma shook her head. “You know, every day I promise myself I’ll do better, but within a few hours, I’ve blown that promise all to hell and lost my religion along the way. Even I’m horrified over some of the things that come out of my mouth when I’m around him—but I can’t seem to stop. If Claire or Jason really knew what we said to each other every day, I’d be fired for sure.”

“Well, it takes two, and from what you’ve told me, Brant gives as good as he gets. I don’t see him waving the white flag and getting rid of you, so maybe he gets off on it. Some guys like a little verbal spanking.”

Emma shuddered. “Please don’t say the words
spanking
and
Brant
together
;
it gives me hives. Even Ajax couldn’t scrub that image from my mind.”

Suzy snickered at the look of distaste Emma was sure she was sporting. “Don’t knock the spanking part. Gray loves it when I’ve been a bad girl. I would never have thought that someone as seemingly straitlaced as my hubby could be such a freak when he wants to be.” Sighing, she added, “God, I love that man.”

“All right, no more. I already hate you for having a husband that sexy. Telling me he’s some kind of sex god only makes me want to unfriend you on Facebook and walk away when I see you at the office.” Anyone else might have been offended by her statement, but Suzy only threw her head back and laughed.

“That’s pretty good. Maybe you should apply that ambition to your boss.”

“You’re just mean,” Emma said. “Can’t you pull some strings and have me moved?”

“Sorry, chick. No can do. I don’t think your strategy is working for you, though. Maybe you should try crying when he says something mean. You’ve tried the incompetence approach and so far, nada. Have you thought about the emotional wreck approach instead?”

Sticking her finger to her chin, Emma said, “Hmmm, no I haven’t. My first inclination is violence when he says something snarky, so crying hasn’t even entered my mind. I don’t know if I could pull off full-fledged tears, but I could at least hang my head and look upset. I might not even feel as guilty about that as I do about snapping back at him, which just goes against
everything I’ve ever been taught about respecting authority.”

“Yeah, that’s rough when you don’t jive with someone. I don’t know why he’s so resistant to transferring you. Somewhere out there must be someone more . . . suited to his particular personality?”

“You mean, like a Mrs. Sunshine?” Emma laughed.

“Exactly!”

“He needs someone more like Mrs. Doubtfire. She would kick his ass.” Their food arrived as they were both throwing out ideas for new assistants for Brant. When she ran out of ideas, Emma asked, “So the others were doing baby shopping today, huh?”

Suzy visibly winced before saying, “I didn’t think I could take that again. I love little Hermie and all, but with Claire and Beth both having babies and Ella pregnant, that’s all they talk about.”

Emma had to smile over Suzy’s refusal to call her sister Beth’s baby Henry. She was sticking with Hermie. When Beth had found out she was having a boy, Nick, her husband, had insisted on naming their baby after his grandfather, who had died while Nick was a child. Apparently, his nickname was Herman and that’s what the kids had always called him. Beth had freaked out about it, at which point Nick’s mother had finally admitted that her father’s real name was actually Henry. Suzy liked the original name better. “It is a little strange. We seem to be the only ones in our group now who don’t have babies on the brain.”