His to Keep (Beauty and the Brit) Read online

  “Which is why I keep it covered. It’s distracting for the worker bees when I’m in the middle of a presentation.”

  She turned to him. “Then why have a view in the first place?”

  “It’s all about location, innit? Open them if you’d like, and I’ll meet you back here at noon.” He turned to leave, but before he cleared the threshold, Iain looked over his shoulder. “And, Brynnie, pet, do be here. While I very much enjoy the hunt, I don’t want to chase you down again today. I’ve got a full schedule, yeah?”

  Chapter 9

  Brynnie. Only her family called her that. When Iain said it, her heart flipped.

  After he left, she felt keyed up—and for good reason. Forcing her into this situation, provoking her into saying hurtful things she couldn’t take back—it was downright devious. Brynn wasn’t given to outbursts, but Iain managed to bring out the worst in her. Since she had to take this assignment, to save not just her own job but her coworkers’ as well, Brynn couldn’t shake him if she tried. Iain was making himself a fixture in her life, and she resented the hell out of it.

  Last night, he’d said they were inevitable, but Brynn didn’t buy into fate. She preferred the idea of free will. She could choose to ignore this infatuation with Iain Chapman and not let his good looks cloud her judgment or her emotions to overrule her common sense. Besides, if everything that happened in life was a foregone conclusion, then what was the point? It would mean none of Brynn’s choices mattered, that her mom’s cancer had been predestined, and Trisha Campbell’s five-year battle with the disease meant nothing. That was too depressing to even consider.

  She shoved thoughts of her mom aside. It didn’t change anything, and it only made Brynn sad for what she’d lost.

  She whipped back the first heavy, green curtain, then the next, until sunlight flooded the room. That was better.

  Brynn situated herself in the middle of the glossy conference table. Taking the head would be a position of power, and she didn’t want that, even if she could manage to pull it off. Brynn needed to gain the trust of Iain’s employees. If she could get them talking, get them to contribute, she might be able to help this organization.

  As she flipped on her laptop, Brynn’s phone vibrated. Allie’s face popped up on the screen. She probably wanted to make sure Brynn was all right. Allie was a worrier.

  When their mom got sick, her big sister had dropped out of college, come home, and slipped into the role of surrogate mother. While Brynn appreciated everything Allie had done, Brynn was a full-fledged adult now. But Allie had a hard time recognizing that fact. Brynn didn’t want to deal with it right now, so she ignored the call.

  When a tentative knock sounded on the door, Brynn glanced up. A man in a long-sleeved, white shirt and black tie hovered in the doorway. She remembered him from the accounting department.

  “Hi.” Brynn stood. “Thanks for coming in.” She waited until he took a chair before starting her spiel. “I’d like to ask you a few questions about Blue Moon, if that’s all right? And your role in the company.”

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “Not at all. I’m simply here to see if I can help your organization function more productively.”

  The man gazed out the windows. “You opened the curtains. That’s sort of forbidden.”

  She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “It’s fine.” Brynn sat in her own chair. “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

  “Dale Thomas. I handle invoices.” His voice cracked. “I’m going to get fired, aren’t I? He hates me.”

  “Who hates you?”

  “Mr. Chapman. He has this look of disgust every time he walks into the accounting department.” Sweat started beading across the man’s wide forehead.

  “You’re not fired. I promise.” Brynn said it with a certainty she didn’t feel. Iain might very well decide to fire this man for any number of meaningless reasons. He instilled fear in his people—not loyalty, not trust, not any of those components vital to a healthy workplace.

  As they talked, Brynn checked off the answers on her questionnaire and typed a few notes. Dale enjoyed his job, was on good terms with his coworkers, and liked Marc. But at the mere mention of Iain’s name, he began to twitch. Twenty minutes later, when Dale left the room, his armpits were soaked and he looked a little green around the gills.

  The next five people Brynn spoke with seemed just as nervous, if not as sweaty. Their eyes shifted around the room, and anxiety poured off them. They all repeated similar phrases:

  “I love working here. It’s very satisfactory.”

  “Mr. Chapman is an excellent boss. I love working here.”

  “I love my job. It’s a satisfactory work environment. Mr. Chapman is really wonderful.”

  They’d rehearsed. It took Brynn time and patience to try and break through the rote answers, and even then she wasn’t entirely successful. It was obvious they were all concerned about their jobs. Working for Iain might be more stressful than working for Cassandra Delaney but without the crazy sex stories.

  Brynn had a steep hill to climb. No matter how specialized the curriculum, she couldn’t change a fearful climate. It started with Iain. If he didn’t make some adjustments in his behavior, no amount of advice or training would help.

  Finally, after two hours, Marc sauntered into the room. He was the most laid-back person she’d encountered throughout the morning. But his smile didn’t reach his pale blue eyes. He dropped into the chair across from her.

  “How’s it going, Brynn?”

  She closed her laptop and folded her hands on the table. “I’m okay. How are you?”

  He appeared startled by her question. Or maybe by the sincerity in which it was offered. “Fine. Good.”

  “Are you sure? It looked like you and Iain were having an argument this morning. I don’t want to pry, but maybe I can help.” What a load of crap. Brynn totally wanted to pry.

  “I don’t think so, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “Iain said you two have known each other your entire lives.”

  Marc’s brows raised a fraction. “Did he, now? What else did he tell you?”

  “Not much. He likes to share his opinions about everyone else, but he isn’t as forthcoming with his own personal information.”

  “Yeah, Iain drives most people ’round the bend within an hour of meeting him. You’ve still got your composure. You must be made of stern stuff.”

  Brynn had never been accused of that before. “What’s he like as a business partner?”

  “Depends on the day.”

  “He often ignores your advice. Doesn’t that bother you?”

  Marc’s lazy gaze drifted to the window behind her. “I like it in here with the curtains open. Brightens the place up.” He glanced back at her. “Listen, love, if Iain’s high-handed attitude bothered me, I wouldn’t be friends with him. He’s a right pain in the ass most of the time, but he’s my best mate going on thirty-some-odd years. He doesn’t always go about things the right way, but he’s not a bad lad. He might come across as a twat, but that’s mostly on the surface. Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s something of a genius.”

  Amelia had said pretty much the same thing. What did Iain Chapman do to deserve this kind of loyalty? There must be a secret side to him, a decency he only showed to a select group of people. Brynn wished he’d show some of it to her.

  Damn. She was letting her soft heart get the better of her yet again. Time to knock it off, jellyfish, and get back to business. “May I be frank with you, Marc?”

  “By all means.”

  “Your employees are… apprehensive. I think Iain’s fostered an environment of distrust and fear.”

  “You’re very kind to put it like that. Truth is, Iain scares the shit out of everyone. ‘Business comes first, everyone’s expendable’—those are words he’s lived by for years. I don’t know how he’s going to change that. It’s who he is.”

  Iain didn’t have a problem cu
tting people, letting them go without a moment’s hesitation. Just like the hostess from yesterday. Brynn’s greatest fear was that Iain would be so fantastic in bed—and out of it—that as soon as she lowered all her defenses, he’d drop her like a bad habit. Then where would she be?

  When Marc glanced at his watch, Brynn realized she’d been sitting there, not saying a word for the last couple of minutes. “Sorry, I lost my train of thought. Iain didn’t provide me with files on anyone. I’d like to see some stats if that’s all right—performance records, exit interviews.”

  “There are plenty of those. Just tell Amelia. She’ll get you everything you need.” Before he left, he dragged his gaze over her face. “You know, I think you might be good for him if you can stick it out.” Before she could comment, he was gone.

  What did that mean? Had Iain told Marc about last night? Surely not. Brynn pondered it for a while, then, forcing her thoughts from Iain, finished typing up her notes—although it was a pointless exercise. Iain didn’t think there was anything wrong with the way he treated people.

  Brynn could half-ass her way through this entire assignment and charge through the nose. But that wasn’t her style. She was either all in or all out. Whether Iain knew it or not, he needed help. He probably wouldn’t take it, but that wasn’t her problem.

  “That’s a mighty fierce look.”

  Brynn jumped at the sound of Iain’s voice. He stood in the doorway, watching her, his eyes moving restlessly over her face, her neck, down to her breasts. He sure seemed to like them enough last night. Stop that. She had to quit thinking about last night. About seeing him naked.

  Rising, Brynn closed her book. “Congratulations. Your employees are afraid you’re going to fire them at a moment’s notice. I talked to six of them this morning and they all looked like they were reading a prepared statement from a hostage video.”

  His shrug was casual, unconcerned. “I’ve told you, I don’t give a fuck what anyone thinks. If they don’t like working here, there’s the door.”

  “How many people have you fired in the last year?”

  “Couldn’t tell you.”

  “How many quit?”

  He squinted his eyes in thought. “Several. You’d have to ask HR if you want hard data.” His face smoothed out. “Now come on with you. Let’s grab some lunch. We’ll try the bistro again.”

  Brynn began fiddling with her pen. “I should stay and get some work done. You and I need to continue your training today. Though when I say ‘continue,’ I actually mean start.”

  He walked into the room, hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed. “You started yesterday. In the car, remember?”

  “Yesterday, you had several phone calls. While I understand you’re a very busy man, I believe that if we work together, we can complete your training with a minimum of disruption for both our sakes.”

  “God, I love it when you talk like a corporate drone. So sexy.” He wore a mocking grin—one she’d come to expect. And Brynn was getting pretty freaking tired of it.

  She searched for the appropriate words, a way to get her point across without sounding accusatory. “I don’t like it when you make fun of me. You may not value what I do, but I believe I’m entitled to a modicum of respect.”

  Iain dropped the smirk as his expression turned serious. “I never meant to disrespect you, love. Truly.” He paused a moment, as if carefully considering his next words. “I am sorry, and I’ll try to pay attention today.”

  Brynn was stunned. She rewound the words in her mind. He’d been alternately mocking her and putting the moves on her since she’d met him. But the word respect had triggered a change. It dawned on her then that Iain Chapman was a man who placed a high price on respect. He demanded it from others. Maybe that’s why he didn’t give a damn if his employees feared him. As long as they respected him, it was all good.

  Brynn nodded. “Thank you, Iain.”

  The smile returned but without the sarcastic hint. “Again.”

  “What?”

  “My name. Say it.”

  She was helpless to do anything but comply. “Iain.” He was different when he was like this. Not softer. There wasn’t anything soft about him, but he seemed more…relatable. Attainable. Don’t even go there, Brynn. He’s not attainable.

  Iain was drop-dead sexy, headstrong, and smart. Sarcastic and blunt, too. Brynn felt utterly drawn to him. She was so attracted that when he looked at her this way—with equal parts passion and complete absorption—fire consumed her body. Not from embarrassment this time, but from desire. Everything about this man, the good and the infuriating, provoked a response.

  Iain reached out, beckoning. Brynn felt herself moving toward him, and before she knew it, she stood in front of him and placed her hand in his. This was exactly how she felt last night: entranced, under that crazy spell that Iain wove with the sound of his voice and his confident presence.

  He slid his thumb over the back of her wrist. His touch was gentle, but his eyes were full of promise.

  Lust. That’s all it was. The body’s automatic response to stimuli. Then why did it feel more powerful? Every time she touched him, kissed him, Brynn felt energized and muddled at the same time.

  “You feel it too,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. He brought her hand to his mouth, and instead of offering a chaste kiss, he turned her palm upward and stroked his tongue across the center. Sparks of heat zipped straight to Brynn’s nipples. Her breasts ached for his touch. She’d never had a man do that before. Iain wasn’t just rough around the edges—he was uncivilized, despite all the elegant trappings and expensive suits. And Brynn wanted more of it. She wanted Iain unleashed, in full-on barbarian mode.

  When he released her, Brynn spun around and closed her eyes for a moment, tightening her hand into a fist. He was hers for the taking. She could have him, all of that passion, the hot, elemental sex. But after he was through with her, could she go back to a life of celibacy? Or even worse, go back to dating boring, normal men who played it safe in bed when she needed so much more? Iain had a calm yet powerful approach that made her feel safe enough to let herself go completely. To let him take full control of her. Last night, she’d trusted him. That was huge for her, and so unusual, it was almost frightening.

  Brynn opened her eyes and focused on putting one foot in front of the other as she made her way back to the table. She grabbed her phone, stuffed it in the bag, and schooled her expression before facing him.

  “Ready?” he asked. Was she? Even though she didn’t believe in destiny, it seemed like Brynn had been on a collision course with Iain Chapman from the moment they’d met.

  Was she ready to let down her walls and be vulnerable? Maybe not. But she was getting there.

  * * *

  In the car, Iain was ready to give Brynn his attention. And his hands. And his tongue. He could see she was as dazed by this strange attraction as he was. She’d nearly buckled when he licked her palm. Iain had done it like he did everything in life—on instinct.

  But as soon as they settled into the car, Brynn’s phone started ringing off the hook. Fucking annoying, it was. When she took the call rather than devoting herself to Iain, he didn’t like getting a taste of his own medicine.

  Even as frustration had him fondling the pair of dice, he watched her closely. As she fielded questions, offered advice, and took on more work than she should, she did so with a confidence that he hadn’t seen in her before. She knew exactly what needed to be done.

  She’d had the right of it earlier, in the conference room. In mocking her, Iain hadn’t respected Brynn at all. He still didn’t put any weight in this training bullshit, but she did. When Iain realized he’d hurt her feelings, he’d felt like a right knob. He vowed to do better.

  Once the car parked at the entrance of the hotel, Brynn finally tucked the phone in her bag. “I apologize. Being out of the office two days running has sent everyone into panic mode.”

  “No doubt.” Exiting from the car, I
ain waited for Brynn and ushered her inside.

  She peered up at him. “Promise me one thing.”

  He moved across the lobby, nodding. “If I can.”

  “Don’t fire anyone today.”

  He sighed dramatically. “You’re determined to ruin my fun, aren’t you?” When they walked into the restaurant, the hostess he’d sent packing yesterday was ensconced behind the podium. When she saw him, her chin quivered.

  “Mr. Chapman. Thank you so much for hiring me back. I can’t tell you what this job means. I’m working my way through school—”

  He held up his hand. “Do stop. And don’t give me any more grief, yeah?” Then taking Brynn’s elbow, he guided her through the dining room to the same booth they’d shared before. After scooting across the leather bench, she simply stared at him.

  “Wha’?”

  “You hired her back.”

  “You have a real talent for stating the obvious, love.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  “Because it was the right thing to do?” she asked. A hopeful note caused her voice to rise in pitch.

  “Hardly.” Perhaps that played some part.

  A little smile graced her generous mouth. “You did it for me?”

  “No need to look all smug. I’m just trying to get into your knickers.”

  “Thank you, Iain.”

  He did like it when she thanked him in that sweet, soft American accent. Fuck me, I’ll be writing sonnets next, trying to find words that rhyme with Brynn. Win. Spin. Twin. Twins.

  The same waiter stopped by their table. Iain shot him a look full of loathing. He wanted five fucking minutes alone with her and his patience, what little he had left, was running out. “Same as before. Do hurry.” The waiter couldn’t get away fast enough. When Iain caught the look of disappointment in Brynn’s eyes, he sighed. “You’re not going to give me another lecture, are you?”

  “Since that’s technically why I’m here, yes. Let’s brainstorm and come up with a solution to your grouch factor.”