“Well, I should say so.” Josie crossed her legs and leaned forward to pour coffee into a second china cup. She sipped and eyed Elizabeth over the rim. “Josie Summers’s Event Planning offers nothing but sublime perfection.”
“Absolutely.” Having her boss take credit for her successes didn’t sit well with Elizabeth, but she needed her job and wanted to keep it.
Until coming to work for Josie, she’d never been one to tout her accomplishments. She’d always done her best without expecting anyone to praise her. But it hadn’t taken more than six months in the cutthroat world of event planning for her to realize that if she wanted to get ahead, she not only needed to be the best, she had to make sure everyone knew it.
“I’ve already received a half dozen calls this morning about upcoming events thanks to the work we did last night.” The diamonds in Josie’s ears winked. “Josie Summers’s Event Planning is the best in New York. It’s about time everyone recognized that.”
Thanks to all Elizabeth’s hard work. She forced a smile. “That’s great. And part of what I wanted to talk to you about this morning…”
“Oh, and those came for you.” Josie indicated the roses. “They were delivered to me by mistake.”
Elizabeth regarded the extravagant bouquet. She felt oddly light-headed. It was the sort of thing a man sent the woman he loved. “For me?”
Josie picked up a small white card and handed it to Elizabeth. “Another admirer, from the looks of it.”
Stifling her resentment that her boss had already read the card, Elizabeth slid it out of the envelope and stared at the bold script.
I have a proposal I’d like to discuss with you. RB
She had no trouble imagining the sort of proposal Roark Black had in mind. Proposition was more like it. Remembering the way his gaze had slipped over her last night, heat rushed into her cheeks. Conscious of her boss’s avid curiosity, she mastered her expression and held very still. Difficult when she wanted to run from the room and the implications of that message. But fleeing would do her no good when the danger lay inside her. The searing curiosity about the enigmatic treasure hunter. What would it be like to have those mobile lips capture hers? His hands gliding over her skin as if she was a priceless artifact he’d been searching for all his life?
“Elizabeth?”
“Hmm?”
Josie’s voice held amusement. “Who is RB?”
She dug her nails into her palm to disperse the sensual fog that she’d gotten lost in. Lying would do her no good. Josie’s curiosity was fully engaged. She would dig until she was satisfied she knew everything that was going on with Elizabeth.
“Roark Black.”
“Really?” Interest flared in Josie’s brown eyes. “I didn’t realize you knew him.”
“He was at the wine auction last night.” Elizabeth could see her boss jump to the wrong conclusion. “He was impressed with the work I’d done for the party. Perhaps he wants to hire me.”
“This is a first,” Josie purred, her opinion about the true reason for the bouquet already formed. “I’ve never seen two dozen red roses accompany a job offer before.”
“Mr. Black is a unique individual.”
“With unique tastes, I imagine.”
Elizabeth responded with a tight smile. “I’d better go give him a call.” She stood, eager to escape her boss’s keen gaze. She was halfway to the door when Josie stopped her.
“Don’t forget your roses.”
“Silly me,” Elizabeth said, her teeth gritted together.
“And let me know what he has in mind. This is the opening I’ve been waiting for. A chance to move Josie Summers’s Event Planning into a whole new level. Event planner to the rich and famous.”
“Thanks to me,” Elizabeth muttered into the sumptuous roses.
It wasn’t until she returned to her office that she realized Roark Black’s proposal had distracted her from her plan to ask Josie about making her a partner. How much longer was she going to build Josie’s business without getting the rewards she deserved?
Setting the roses on her desk, Elizabeth perched on one of her guest chairs and dialed the number on the back of Roark’s card.
“Hello, Elizabeth.”
His deep voice, rich with amusement, sent a tingle up her spine. With two words he’d sparked a chain reaction inside her. She flopped back in the chair and closed her eyes to better concentrate on his seductive voice.
“Hello, Mr. Black,” she responded, her tone less professional than she wanted. “Thank you for the roses.”
“Roark,” he corrected, his tone somewhere between a command and a request. “I’m glad you like them.”
She hadn’t said that. “They’re beautiful.”
“Beautiful roses for a beautiful lady.”
His smooth compliments were having a detrimental effect on her professionalism. Flutters attacked her stomach. Warmth flooded her as delight scampered along her nerve endings. Her body appeared to have a mind of its own, wanting to curl up in the chair and cradle the phone like some smitten teenager.
“The card mentioned you had a job for me?”
“A proposal,” he corrected, caressing the word.
“What sort of proposal?”
“I’d like to discuss it in person.”
And she’d prefer to arrange everything over the phone so his enticing sex appeal wouldn’t prove her undoing. “Would you like to come to my office this afternoon?”
“I was thinking perhaps you could meet me at my apartment. Say in an hour?”
“Your apartment…” She trailed off, at a loss for words since she didn’t dare accuse him of hitting on her when she wasn’t completely sure what was going on.
“Don’t you visit a client’s apartment when you’re planning a party for them?”
“You want me to plan a party?” Her relief came through loud and clear.
“Of course.” He sounded amused. “What did you think I wanted?”
The arrogance of the man.
Elizabeth fumed for about five seconds and then reminded herself that this was business and she was a businesswoman. She’d worked with demanding clients before. Just because Roark Black was sinfully handsome and dangerously exciting was no reason to let her baser instincts get the better of her. He was a client. Nothing more.
“An hour and a half,” she countered, feeling ridiculous the second the words were out of her mouth. It was silly to try to play power games with this man when all he had to do was hit her with his crooked grin and every sensible thought fled her mind.
“I’ll text you my address.”
At one minute to ten, she stood outside Roark’s loft in Soho. She recognized her nerves had gotten the better of her when she’d gone home to change into a sweater dress in a silvery blue. She loved the color. It intensified the gold tones of her hair and drew out the flecks of cobalt in her eyes. But most important, the outfit gave her confidence.
Briefcase clutched before her, weight on the balls of her feet, she awaited the appearance of the first man in a year who’d imperiled her no-bad-boys edict. Pulse hammering, she dredged up every hurt and disappointment caused by the men she’d chosen over the years. Remembering past injuries took the edge off