Author: Roni Loren
She returned his smile, but a gnawing worry settled in her stomach. She was going to have to get a hold of her emotions ASAP, because if she had any more nights like tonight, she was in deep shit. Grant was already seeping under her guards, and even if she was discovering she could appreciate a little physical pain, she wasn’t up for emotional annihilation.
She could hold her own in a lot of competitions, but she’d never win against the dead love of his life.
EIGHTEEN
Grant leaned against the doorframe of Charli’s cabin, fighting a chuckle as she teetered out from the bedroom on a pair of black heels. She looked smoking hot in the outfit he’d brought over. The snug gray pencil skirt hugged her hips just right and the tissue-thin silk blouse gave him a delicious glimpse of the lacy white bra she wore underneath. But the shoes, once again, were getting the best of her.
“Kelsey said those heels are an inch lower than the ones from last night,” he offered, unable to hide his amusement.
“Praise God for that. The fall to the floor will be shorter.”
He grinned. “You look fucking edible, though. So there’s that.”
She smirked, but he caught the flash of pleasure in her eyes at the compliment. She put a hand on the back of the couch to steady herself. “Thanks.”
“Well, look at that, I gave you a compliment and you didn’t shoot it down.” He pushed off the doorframe. “You’re learning. Two points to the pretty lady with no panties.”
She rolled her eyes, and he made a mental note to pay her back for that little nod of disrespect later. “So why am I dressed like this? I didn’t see anyone else wearing this kind of thing at The Ranch.”
He grabbed his Stetson, which he’d set on the entryway table when he’d come in, and secured it on his head. Then he put out a hand to her. “Oh, I never said we were going to The Ranch. Today I have an important business meeting with some distributors for the winery. And you, sweet Charlotte, are going to be my assistant.”
Her eyes widened as she took a hesitant step forward and placed her hand in his. “What?”
“I gave my admin the day off, so I’ll need someone to serve us the wine samples and cheese plates, to set up the slide projector, to take notes. That kind of thing.” He drew her against him. “I’ll need someone to dazzle them with hospitality.”
“But—”
He slid his hands over her ass, loving the fact that she was bare underneath that tight little skirt. It took all he had not to lift it up and bend her right over the sofa. “You’re going to do fine. And if you don’t, you’ll pay later. If you’re rude to anyone, embarrass me in any way, or talk back to me in front of them, there will be a punishment.”
She shuddered against him and he smiled inwardly. Charli would never admit it, but that little kernel of fear fed her. He could see it in the ways her pupils dilated the instant he mentioned possible punishment.
“Yes, sir. But what does this have to do with my training?”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “That’s for me to determine and you not to worry about.”
He’d figured out pretty quickly that Charli didn’t have a femininity problem, she had a confidence problem. She expected people to be critical and steeled herself up for it, which inevitably came across as her being bristly and harsh. And he knew if he put her in a room of businessmen who were probably similar to that board of directors she was trying to impress, he could show her that she had everything she could possibly need to wow them.
He could honestly give a shit if she messed up in front of his colleagues, but he wanted to put the added pressure on her so she’d know how to pull it off when she had everything riding on her performance. Plus, a little role-playing would provide some much needed distance between the two of them. Things had gotten too raw last night. Too real. A fun little game was just what the doctor ordered.
He stepped back from Charli and removed something from the inner pocket of his jacket. “You look so prim and proper with your hair pinned up like that. I think these will be the perfect final touch.”
He handed her the dark-rimmed glasses and her eyebrow arched. “Last I checked, I don’t have a vision problem.”
“The lenses aren’t prescription. Put them on.” She slid the glasses on, and he grinned. “Oh, what some of my members up at The Ranch would do to have you. Anyone with a naughty teacher or librarian fantasy would fall to his knees at your feet and beg.”
She put her hand to her hip and tilted her head, batting her eyelashes in mock coyness. “What? You don’t have one of those fantasies, cowboy?”
He grabbed her wrist and put her hand against his quickly hardening erection. “Not really. But maybe I have one about a hot little secretary.”
Her fingers curled along the outline of his cock, stroked. “I’m not that kind of employee, Mr. Waters. Or that kind of girl.”
Nice. Already she was slipping into character. “We’ll see. I know how badly you need this job, Ms. Beaumonde.”
He clasped her arm and moved her hand away before she pushed him past the point of self-control. “Let’s go. If you make me late for my own business meeting, I’ll be very unhappy.”
And oh, what fun he’d have disciplining her for the tardiness.
Charli had to work hard to keep up with Grant’s long strides as they headed over to the biggest building on the non-Ranch side of the property—home to Water’s Edge Wines. Walking in heels along gravel was like learning to drive a stick shift on a steep hill; it took all of her concentration. While she worked on not face-planting, Grant explained that the main operation of Water’s Edge and its employees worked out of a satellite office in Dallas, but that he liked to bring clients out here for meetings sometimes because they enjoyed seeing the vineyards.
Hearing him talk about his business, she could hear the pride in his voice, the dedication. This was no side business for him. It was a passion.
When they reached the building, he opened the door for her and let her walk inside first. The inside was rustic, not unlike the building at The Ranch, but there was a refined elegance present as well. The wall opposite the entrance was covered with smooth river rock, and a hidden spotlight projected the logo for Water’s Edge Wines onto the stones. Water slid over the rocks, making the logo seem to ripple before falling into a fountain below.
To the right was a curved reception desk. A tall, gray-haired woman rose from behind the desk, greeting Charli and Grant with a warm smile. “Hello, Mr. Waters. Everyone is already here and set up in the conference room.”
“Thank you, Madeleine. I should have everything covered from here. Charlotte is going to assist me in the meeting today. You can head back to your normal post.”
Madeleine gave Charli a sly look, like they were sharing some unspoken secret, then nodded. “Very well.”
Madeline glided from behind the desk with an elegance Charli could only dream of having. She walked with the confidence of royalty, the effect making her appear much younger than she probably was. Madeleine put a hand on Grant’s biceps as she passed and gave him a little squeeze and a wink. “Good boy.”
Charli watched her leave, a little stunned, then turned to Grant. “Why do I feel like I missed a joke?”
He shook his head, but seemed amused. “Maddy isn’t just an employee, she’s a good friend and one of the fiercest dommes you’ll ever meet. She’s been badgering me to take on a new sub for months. Told me celibacy will age me before my time.”
“But how did she know what—who I was?”
Grant put his hand to the small of her back, guiding her forward. “Apparently, her radar for submissives is more finely tuned than mine.”
Charli pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. That couldn’t possibly have been Grant admitting he’d been wrong about her. That maybe his initial assessment of her had been a swing and a miss. She should buy a helmet—the sky might collapse.
“Gloating isn’t becoming, Ms. Beaumonde,” he said, his tone as cool as the air in the quiet hallway. “You just earned yourself a reprimand from the boss after this meeting is done.”
The smile she’d been fighting broke through anyway. “Sorry, sir.”
He stopped in front of pair of frosted glass doors. “Now don’t embarrass me. I expect you to be professional. These people are important.”
The warning had her grin sagging and her back straightening. Nerves settled around her like high-strung little birds, twittering all the what-ifs in her ear. She and Grant may be playing roles, but the people on the other side of that door were real. Grant’s business and reputation weren’t a game. She rubbed her lips together, smoothing her lipstick, and nodded her readiness.
He pushed open the doors and she followed behind him, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. The last thing she needed was to trip and fall. The fearsome image of her doing a belly flop and exposing her lack of underwear to a room full of businessmen had her walking with the deliberateness of a gymnast on a balance beam.
The long conference table was filled with men in suits and one woman in a smart maroon blouse. Conversation was humming between them all, but quieted when they noticed Grant.
“Afternoon, everyone,” Grant said, flashing one of his lazy cowboy smiles toward the room. “I appreciate y’all venturing out to the country to visit today.”
Charli laced her fingers together in front of her, trying to blend into the background. The less she was noticed, the less chance she had of doing something wrong.
Greetings were exchanged, and Grant let everyone make introductions. Most everyone was involved with either a restaurant chain or a gourmet store—all places that could stock Grant’s wine. Grant turned to her. “Charlotte, I have some brochures about the new line we’re rolling out. They’re in the bottom drawer of that file cabinet in the corner. Please retrieve them and make sure everyone has a copy.”
“Yes, sir.” She headed to the back corner of the room, happy to have a task as Grant flipped open a laptop and turned on the slide projector to begin his presentation. When she reached her destination, she realized the file cabinet was half blocked by a man with shaggy blond hair who’d pushed his chair back a bit so he could hook an ankle over his knee. He was making a note on the legal pad in his lap and didn’t seem to notice he was in the way.
She leaned down, keeping her voice low “Excuse me, I’m sorry, but I need to get by.”
He glanced up, his blue-eyed gaze colliding with hers. The smile he gave her could probably slay a cheerleading squad in one fell swoop. He was pretty in that way that was almost too perfect. She preferred the more rugged look, like Grant, but even she wasn’t immune to this version of male beauty. He rocked forward in his seat, putting both feet on the ground, and rolled the chair to the side. “No problem.”
Once he was out of the way, she moved toward the file cabinet, eyeing it warily. Grant had said the bottom drawer. Her pencil skirt wasn’t overly short, but it was formfitting and there was no bending over easily. She peeked up at the front of the room and caught Grant watching her even though he was speaking easily about his new products. His lips tugged up at the corner, letting her know he was well aware of the predicament he’d put her in.
Dammit. She looked at the cabinet again, and noticed Grant wasn’t the only one keeping an eye on her. Blondie gave her a sideward glance as he made more notes. Apparently, he had figured out her quandary, too. Not that he was offering any help or anything. With a huff, she attempted to get to her knees gracefully. Using the rocking motion she’d failed in the intro class, she managed to hit the floor without a sound and without exposing her ass to the world. Win!
She grinned and Blondie coughed, the noise sounding suspiciously like a muffled laugh, but she pretended to ignore him. The file drawer was full of materials, but she found the stack of brochures Grant had requested and grabbed them. Of course, now she had to get back up. She used her free hand to propel herself upward off the floor, but before she got to a full stand, her heel caught in the carpet and she had to reach out for the wall, dropping the papers all over the floor.
