Ruthless Boss, Dream Baby
Ruthless Boss, Dream Baby
Susan Stephens
Wanted in the bedroom not the boardroom! Magenta knows having a new employer might be tricky. But she isnt expecting the old-fashioned ruthlessness of Gray Quinn! However, plucky Magenta is up for the challenge, and tries to play the distractingly gorgeous Quinn at his own gameQuinn is no New Man: he wants temptingly innocent Magenta in his bedroom, not the boardroom. But he can make her no promises. Hell give her the night of her life, but he might not be there when she wakes up And he definitely doesnt want her taking maternity leave!MEN WITHOUT MERCY Arrogant and proud, unashamedly male!
Shall we get down to business? she suggested, putting her glass down.
Quinns lips pressed down with amusement as he put his own glass down next to hers. Im ready if you are.
This was business?
Quinn had dragged her into his arms, and his kisses were a brushing, teasing, honeyed reminder. I shouldnt
You should. You must.
Quinns dark eyes glinted with humour, and then he deepened the kiss. The chance to experience everything she had ever dreamed about with Quinna man who exuded power, raw and unrepentantwas now a very real possibility. She had always been awkward with men beforeconcerned shed get it wrongbut the way Quinn was kissing her, binding every part of her to him, left very little to chance.
Best of all, Magenta reasoned, nothing could go wrong in a dreamthere were no consequences. She was free of inhibition and of embarrassment. Her twenty-first-century world of metro-males and smooth-cheeked mummys boys had never seemed further away as Quinn persuaded her this was one experience she shouldnt miss out on.
ModernRomance are pleased to present
this new and exciting mini-series!
MEN WITHOUT MERCY
Arrogant and proud, unashamedly male!
Modern Romance with a retro twist
Step back in time to when men were men
and women knew just how to tame them!
About the Author
SUSAN STEPHENS was a professional singer before meeting her husband on the tiny Mediterranean island of Malta. In true Modern Romance style they met on Monday, became engaged on Friday, and were married three months after that. Almost thirty years and three children later, they are still in love. (Susan does not advise her children to return home one day with a similar story, as she may not take the news with the same fortitude as her own mother!)
Susan had written several non-fiction books when fate took a hand. At a charity costume ball there was an after-dinner auction. One of the lots, Spend a Day with an Author, had been donated by Mills & Boon author Penny Jordan. Susans husband bought this lot, and Penny was to become not just a great friend but a wonderful mentor, who encouraged Susan to write romance.
Susan loves her family, her pets, her friends, and her writing. She enjoys entertaining, travel, and going to the theatre. She reads, cooks, and plays the piano to relax, and can occasionally be found throwing herself off mountains on a pair of skis or galloping through the countryside. Visit Susans website: www.susanstephens.net she loves to hear from her readers all around the world!
RUTHLESS BOSS,
DREAM BABY
SUSAN STEPHENS
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHAPTER ONE
MAGENTA yelped with alarm as a scuffed bikers boot slammed onto the ground within inches of her feet. What the hell do you think youre doing? she exploded, frantically clutching the armful of documents threatening to spill from her arms.
Taking off his helmet, the man shook out a mop of inky-black hair. He was exactly the type of man you didnt want to see when youd had the day from hell and looked like youd been dragged through a hedge backwards: gorgeous, cool, and commanding. He had danger flashing round him like neon lights.
Well? Magenta demanded furiously. Do you always ride a motorcycle like a maniac?
Always, he drawled.
I should report you.
Eyes the colour of a storm-tossed ocean laughed back at her.
And she would report him, Magenta determined, just as soon as she sorted out the flat on her car, along with a million and one other things.
Such as her father deciding to retire and sell his shares to some stranger without a word to her. Such as saving her colleagues jobs from this unknown predator. Such as wanting to get back to her team and their fast-moving, retro ad campaign set in Magentas favourite era, the sixties.
Do you mind? she said, trying to skirt around the mans monstrous, throbbing machine. Some of us have work to do.
Is that why youre leaving the office early?
Since when are my working hours your concern?
The biker shrugged.
Magentas glance swept the car park. Where was the security guard when you needed him? She had been loading up the car with things she intended to finish over the weekend in her own timenot that she was about to explain that to this guy, who looked like he spent his weekends in bed. And not alone.
Youre leaving me? he demanded as she made a move to continue on her way.
Somehow Im managing to drag myself away.
What was he doing in the car park of Steele Design anyway? Was he a courier? Do you have a package?
His grin made her cheeks blaze red. She had to watch her words in future, Magenta concluded. They were about the same agemaybe he was a year or two olderbut his eyes held infinitely more experience. If you dont have anything to deliver, this is private property and you should leave.
He raised an eyebrow.
Oh, good. He was really impressed by her command of the situation.
The bikers self-confidence was making her edgythat and his manner, which was cool, when she was fuming. Some men were just comfortable in every situation and this man was clearly one of them.
A sharp flurry of snow kept her hurrying along but the mans laugh was warm and sexy on her back. Whats so urgent you cant spare a moment to chat? he called.
She stopped and turned to confront him. Not that its any business of yours, but I am going inside to put on the clothes I wear in the gym so I can change the tyre on my car.
Can I help you?
No.
Perhaps she should at least have thanked him for the offer.
Now she felt guilty?
Settling the helmet on his head again, he revved the engine. Youre going? she said, perversely wanting him to stay.
Powerful shoulders eased in a careless shrug.
Why exactly was she driving him away, when he was the most interesting thing to have happened in a long time? Because she had more sense than to prolong the encounter, Magenta reasoned, crunching snow underfoot as she started on her way again. But, instead of riding off, the man kept pace with her, scuffing his boots on the surface of the road as he kept the engine purring along in neutral. Havent you gone yet? she demanded.
Im waiting to see you in gym clothes. He grinned.
She huffed at this, all the time trying to work him out. He was dressed too casually to be a businessman and his voice was low and husky with an accent she didnt recognise. Perhaps he was a mature student; there was a college across the road.
I could give you a lift.
I bet you could. A face and body like his could give any woman a lift. But something about him warned her that this was a man who could switch in the blink of an eye from humorous and warm to the modern-day equivalent of Genghis Khanand shed had all the aggravation she could take for one day.
You are one stressed-out lady. Dont you ever relax?
Was he kidding? Who had time to relax? Plus, she shouldnt even think about relaxing while this guy was around. He looked too fit, too dangerous. My car is shot. Bust. Broken. What part of that should entice me to relax?
Like I said, Id be happy to give you a lift.
She might have given his well-packed leathers a thorough inspection and found them more than to her liking, but she didnt know him from Adam. I never accept lifts from strangers, she informed him, tilting her chin at what she hoped would pass for an unapproachable angle.
Very wise, he said, calmly wheeling along at her side.
Dont you ever give up?
Never.
Her heart was thundering. Why?
She was heading off towards the side entrance and the employee lockers where her gym clothes were stowed, and was looking forward to closing the door on his arrogant face right up to the moment when he gunned the engine and rode away.
She stared after the streak of black lightning until it disappeared at the end of the road, feelingwistful.
Well, shed blown it, so it was no use crying over lost opportunities now.
Had there been something special about himan instant connection between them? Or was that the wanderings of an exhausted mind?
Far more likely, Magenta decided. The biker could have insisted on fixing her tyre if hed really wanted to.
Whatever happened to chivalry? Women like her, Magenta concluded, women who accepted equality as their right and who scowled if a man so much as offered to open a door for them.
Having retrieved her gym clothes from her locker, she threw them on, together with a warm jacket and a scarf. Returning to her car, she lifted the cover concealing the spare.
No spare!
She stared in disbelief at the empty space, and then remembered her father saying something about a puncture a few months back. They had matching cars, which at one time Magenta had thought cute. Not today; her father must have told the mechanics to help themselves to her spare and had forgotten to ask them to replace it.
It was her own fault for not checking.
The business was falling down around her ears, she might not even have a job after Christmas and she was crying over a flat tyre. Pressing back against the car, she shut her eyes, waiting for the tears to stop threatening. Finally, having convinced herself it was no use worrying about something she couldnt change, she decided to go inside, get warm and call a cab. Or she could always catch the underground; there was a tube station near her house.
And here came the security guard. Hurrying over to him, Magenta explained she would call someone to come and rescue her car.
When she returned to the office her father was ready to leave, to sign the deal to sell his shares.
I thought youd gone, Clifford Steele complained, checking the angle of his silk tie. No family members muddying the water until this new man has settled in and I have his money in the bankthose are the rules.
And I was obeying them. I was just loading up the car when I discovered I had a flat. And guess what? Magenta added dryly. I dont have a spare.
Call a cab, her father advised without a flicker of remorse. Cant stay, he added, wrapping a cashmere muffler around his neck. Im off to sign the final papers. Just make sure youre out of here in case Quinn decides to come and take a look at his latest acquisition.
She heard the note of resentment in her fathers voice and kissed his cheek. It couldnt be easy selling out to a younger, more successful man. Clifford Steele might be high-handed, and his extravagance might have brought the company to its knees, but he was her father and she loved him and would do nothing to risk his comfortable retirement. It was up to her to sort the mess out now in an attempt to try and save her colleagues jobs.
If the new owner allowed her to.
Gray Quinn might not keep her on, Magenta realised anxiously. Thanks to her fathers outdated belief that men ran businesses while bricks and mortar provided better security for a woman, she owned the building but not a single voting-share.
As youre still here, make yourself useful, her father instructed. Im sure the men would like a cup of coffee before you go. So youre a senior account exec, he added with impatience when he saw her face. But no one makes a cup of coffee like
A well-trained woman? Magenta suggested, tongue-in-cheek.
Like you, I was about to say. You work too hard, Magenta, and you take yourself far too seriously. Stress isnt good for a woman your age, her father commented in his usual tactful manner. If youre not careful it will give you wrinkles. You should take a breakget a decent nights sleep.
Yes, Dad. Her father might have stepped straight out of their sixties campaign, when men had a high opinion of themselves and women were still working out how to let them down lightly, Magenta mused wryly. Thats just the way it is, her father was fond of telling her whenever she complained he was a dinosaur. Thats just the way you are, she always amended fondly.
He had some parting words for her. If youll take my advice, Magentawhich I doubtyoull make yourself scarce until the new owner is settled in. Quinn will soon lose interest and leave the running of the company to the old guard.
Goodbye, Dad.
Lose interest? That didnt sound like the Gray Quinn Magenta had read about. Dynamic and cool under pressure was how the financial papers described himnot to mention ruthless and tough. Oh yes, and practically invisible. If there was a good photograph of Gray Quinn in existence, he had managed to keep it out of the public eye. Life under her fathers autocratic rule had been bad enough, but Quinn was an unknown quantity, and Magentas major concern was for her colleagues. Of course, if Quinn wanted a clean sweep, he might fire them alland if he squashed the zing out of the ad agencys creative personnel it would go down anyway.
If Quinn booted her, she would just have to keep an eye on things from the sidelines, Magenta concluded, going to the window to stare out. If she had to remortgage her house and start a new company to keep everyone in work, then she would.
And what exactly was she looking for now? The biker? She should know better.
She did know better, and pulled away.
Turning her back to the window, she huffed wryly. Business might come easily to her, but where men were concerned she had a long history of failure. She didnt have the right chat, the right lookand the guy on the bike would almost certainly know that she hadnt had a date in ages. He looked like some sort of expert where women were concerned. Magenta smiled as she perched on the edge of the desk to call a cab. The famous orgasm was probably a fiction dreamed up by ad men, anyway.
There were no cabs, at least not for an hour or more. Snow and Christmas shoppers were held to account for the shortage of vehicles.
So, the underground it was.
Having checked she had everything she would need to work at home, Magenta called the garage to come and sort out the car and then brought her team into the office for one last discussion. The holidays were almost on them and she wanted everyone to feel confident about launching the campaign in the New Year before she left.
Would she even be coming back? Magenta wondered as her friends filed into the room. She couldnt afford to think like that. She owed it to the team to be positive. She couldnt let them see how worried she was. This wasnt the end of Steele Design, it was a new beginning, she told herself firmly as she announced, Im going to be working at home for the time being.
You cant leave the week before Christmas, Magentas right arm, Tess, stated flatly.
Ill be in touch with you the whole time.
Its not the same, Tess argued. What about the Christmas party?
There are more important things than thatlike keeping our jobs? Magenta suggested when Tess protested. And why cant you organise it? Magenta prodded gently.
Because you have the magic, Tess argued.
Ill be in touch every day, I just wont be physically sitting at my deskwhere, apparently, Magenta added mischievously, I might present a threat to Quinn. Yes, I know Im scary, she said when the team began to laugh.
While she had them in a good mood she turned the conversation to business. Youre a fantastic team, and its crucial that Quinn sees the best of you guys, so I want you to forget about me and concentrate on making a good first impression.
Forget about you? Tess scoffed. How are we going to do that when you havent even given us a theme for the party yet?
Glad to hear Ive got some uses, Magenta said dryly, glancing at her wristwatch. She was starting to feel edgy. She had made a promise to her father to keep out of the way, so there wasnt much time for dreaming up ideas for the party. Keep it simple, she instructed herself out loud. What about a sixties theme?
Brilliant, Tess agreed. Weve got half the props already, and youd look great in a paper dress.
AhI wont be at the party this year.
Well, thats nonsense. What will it be like without you?
Much more fun, I should think. Magenta was remembering how shed pulled the plug the previous year when she had thought the men in the office were getting a little out of hand. Im only on the end of the phone.
I give you twenty-four hours and youll be back here, Tess predicted. Theres too much going on for you to stay away. And theres another thing, she murmured, drawing Magenta aside. Ive noticed something different about you this morning. Cant put my finger on it yet, but I will.
I dont know what you mean.
Ha! Tess exclaimed. Youre on the defensive already. You look wary. No, she argued with herself, not wary. You look alertexcited, alive. Yes, thats it. Have you met someone, Magenta?
Dont be ridiculous! Im only worried about the future here.
No Tess gave a confident shake of her head. Theres something elsesomething youre not telling me.
Maybe her red cheeks had given her away, Magenta thought wryly as the biker flashed into her mind.
Its nothing to be ashamed of if youve met someone you like, Tess insisted.
But I havent, Magenta arguedtoo heatedly, she realised now.
CHAPTER TWO
TESS hurried to reassure her. I know youre worried about the company, and whats going to happen under the new owner, but youre entitled to a private life, Magenta. In fact, as your friend Im going to be blunt about thisyou need a private life.
Magenta paused before continuing. All right. This is going to sound ridiculous
Try me.
Tess was waiting but, though she worked with words for a living, Magenta was suddenly struck dumb. How could she explain the trembling inside her, or the excitement, the awareness, even the outlandish suspicion that she had met her soul mate this morning? The biker had caught her at the worst possible moment and yet with his arrival it was as if everything had brightened. As if the world had suddenly come into sharp focusand in a freezing-cold car park, of all places. How romantic!
The fact remained, it was as if the sun had shone down just on her, as if her life had opened up to a multi-coloured carousel of opportunity.
If shed had the courage to seize it, which she clearly she hadnt. There was a guy this morning in the car park.
I knew it.
Shh. Magenta glanced round, but no one was listening; they were too busy fighting over the choice of music for the party. It was nothingjust a good-looking guy. Not my type at all, and he wasnt remotely interested. So now you know.
But he excited you?
He certainly did something.
He made you tingle. He made you feel alive.
Youre a romantic, Tess. He made me angry.
You shouted at him? Tess frowned.
I gave him a piece of my mind, yes.
And how did he react?
He laughed at me.
But thats wonderful! Tess exclaimed. What a start.
There is no start, it was just an episode.
And episodes have sequels.
Not this one, Tess.
You never know, he may come back. Hes seen you nowhow could he resist? And when a man laughs with you, well, thats the start of intimacy, in my book.
It is?
Dont you know anything?
Not much, Magenta confessed. After the rush of gold-diggers when I was in my first flush of youth, all the likely contenders lost interest.
Only because you frightened them away, dragon lady.
They werent worth keeping.
And this guys a keeper?
For someone, definitely, but not me.
Why not? Whats wrong with you?
Its not even worth discussing, Magenta said wryly. Hes not going to ask me out on a date. I dont expect Ill ever see him again. It was just a chance encounter that made some sort of ridiculous impression on me because I was feeling tired and vulnerable, and
Lacking in confidence where the mating game is concerned, Tess supplied. Just promise me one thing, Magenta if you do see him again, dont shout at him. Try a smile next time.
They both laughed as Tess demonstrated how to do it.
Come on, Magenta said, turning back to the room. I need to call this meeting to order or the Mighty Quinn will be here and my father will never speak to me again. So, are we good? she asked her team. Does everyone like the theme for the party?
Can we share out the sixties samples for costumes and accessories? one of the girls asked her.
Of course. Just help yourselves.
Magenta was relieved her idea had gone down so well. Everyone needed a boost. They were all on edge wondering what changes the new owner would bring, and the sixties theme allowed them to indulge their fantasies and forget about work for a while. Her team had really been infected by the sixties bug, with quite a few of them trialling the fashions of the time. The sixties styling really suited Tess, Magenta noticed now, with her smoky eyes, long, curving fringe and high ponytail, Tess looked fabulous.
I still cant believe youre not going to be here when the new boss arrives, Tess said, seeing she had Magentas attention.
Ill leave that pleasure to you. All right, go on, Magenta said, seeing Tess was bursting to tell her something. Youve heard some gossip about him, she guessed. What is it?
Girls! Tess exclaimed dramatically as she turned to face the room. Will you enlighten this poor innocent about our new owner, or shall I?
No one was going to deny Tess that pleasure, Magenta suspected.
She was right. Raising a carefully drawn eyebrow, Tess explained, They call him the Mighty Quinn because according to the gossip mags and here she paused Gray Quinn isnt just a giant in business, if you take my meaning.
Magenta pretended to be shocked. But no one knows him, no ones seen him. How do they know?
Oh, come on, Tess protested. Dont tell me you dont like a little mystery in your life? And if hes built
Tess, this is a professional environment. But Magenta had started to laugh. Okay, so maybe we have to get him into some tight-fitting flares to find out.
There, I knew you wouldnt leave us, Tess declared. You have to stay and see him now. You cant resist.
Magenta felt a frisson of alarm. She wasnt an experienced girl-about-town like Tess. Business was her comfort zone; it would be far better if she wasnt here if Quinn was some sort of lady-killer. She felt confident behind a deskwriting, dreaming, imagining how other people might react to an advertisement, to lifebut when it came to herself.
Look at this, Tess said, pushing a magazine across the table. And then tell me youre going to stay away from the office while Quinn settles in.
Theres not much to see, Magenta complained, though her body reacted strangely to what was little more than a shot of a mans back. What was so arousing about that? For some weird reason, her body disagreed.
Quinn was obviously in a hurry to get wherever hed been going, Magenta registered, studying the grainy print to try and fathom out her reaction to it. And then she got a bolt of something totally inappropriate for a woman who by her own admission was hardly sexually experienced. Quinns height, the imposing width of his shoulders, the way he held himselfeverything appealed to her. Quinn was different from most men in that he was taut, powerful and exuded confidence, as if he were ready for anything. He looked like the type of man who inspired confidence in others, too.
He wouldnt even look at her, Magenta reassured herself, releasing a long, shivering breath. There were so many pretty girls in the world, quite a few of whom worked here at Steele Design. Why would a man like Quinn look at an old maid like her?
Theirs would be a match made in hell, she convinced herself, pushing the magazine back to Tess. Imagine adding a man like that to her workload!
What do you know about Quinn, Magenta? one of the younger girls asked her. We know you did lots of research on him when you started to prepare this project to entice him to invest in Steele Design.
I did, Magenta admitted. But I was never able to find any proper photographs. Im surprised Tess found this. She glanced again at the magazine. I gather Quinns celebrity-averse. And no wonder, judging by the gossip youve heard about him. A man like that must prize his privacy above everything else. I do know he was orphaned at an early age, and that he dragged himself up by his bootstraps, but thats about it. Oh, and he doesnt suffer fools gladly.
At all, Tess amended, shooting a warning glance around the circle of suddenly concerned faces.
Which is why you have to be on your mettle whether Im here or not, Magenta stressed. Smoothing back her long, dark hair, she wound it into the casual chignon she customarily wore at the office, securing it with a silver clip. And dont forget that, unless Quinn sacks me, Ill be back in the New Year when well make our final presentation to him as a team.
Sacks you? Tess pulled a face. I havent read that hes crazy.
But he may not want a member of the old guard working for him, as my father calls us. Here are some documents I drew upwhere we are with each campaign et cetera. Make sure he gets them, will you, Tess?
Of course I will But Tess still looked worried. Do you have to go?
I cant risk screwing up Dads deal.
Well, at least you dont have to worry about the documents. Ill see Quinn gets them.
Thank you. Magenta turned to go. But she should have known Tess hadnt finished with her yet.
And if you change your mind about the party
I only wish I could. The end-of-year party was important, but nowhere near as important as keeping Magentas team in work. The last thing she wanted was to alienate Quinn, or have him think she was trying to split the teams loyalty. She hoped she had made a persuasive case for keeping all her colleagues on in the documents shed given Tess. To add a little weight to that hope, she had drafted an outline for the next campaign, centred on products she knew Quinn wanted to push and which she hoped would keep his interest in the company going forward.
You cant leave us, Tess stressed discreetly as Magenta prepared to go. Youre the heart of the team.
Youll do just fine without meand, anyway, I havent gone yet. Lets see how it goes. Quinn isnt a fool. Just keep doing what youre doing, and he wont be able to let any of you go.
But Magenta started fretting before she left the room. The promise to her father counted highly with her, but it went against the grain to walk out on her friends. Her father had his money now and wanted nothing more to do with the company, whereas her colleagues were all desperate to keep their jobs. Maybe Tess was right; maybe she wouldnt be able to stay away.
When Magenta got down to the car park it was full of recovery vehicles with red lights flashing and men in high-vis jackets.
Why was nothing ever straightforward? Magenta wondered, urging herself to remain calm as the mechanics explained to her that, as hers was a vintage car, they couldnt repair it now but would have to order a tyre. They were going to recover the vehicle and keep it in the garage over Christmas and she could collect it some time in the New Year. No, they couldnt be more specific than that, the mechanic in charge told her, scratching his head.
Pulling up her collar against a sudden squall of icy wind, Magenta thanked the men for turning out in such diabolical weather and insisted on giving each of them a crisp new note. Why shouldnt someone enjoy their day?
Wrapping her arms around her body to keep warm, she watched as her car was loaded onto the transporter. She was just bending down to retrieve her bag and briefcase when a familiar roar made her jump, and a familiar boot stamping down by her feet made her scowl.
Dont tell me, she managed as the biker lifted off his helmet. You didnt get me the first time around, so youve come back to finish me off with a heart attack?
Your hearts safe from me.
Oh
Was she supposed to feel quite so disappointed? Magentas brain raced as the biker lifted one ebony eyebrow, sending a tidal wave of hot, feral lust rushing through her veins. Removing one protective leather glove, the man stretched out his hand for her to shake.
You surely dont expect me to shake your hand after youve frightened me half to death, not once but twice?
He grinned. Youre not that feeble, Im sure. But my apologies, if I frightened you.
The mock bow made her heart thunder into action. But what exactly did he find so funny?
Something tells me were going to be seeing a lot of each other, the biker said, closing one warm, strong hand around Magentas frozen fingers.
Yeah, right. In your dreams, she thought.
CHAPTER THREE
AS THE biker dismounted his machine and straightened up, Magenta felt her cheeks fire red. He was a lot taller than she had expected and had the type of shoulders that blotted out the light. She had to fight the desire to give him a comprehensive twice-over. She already knew he was an amazing-looking man and that tight black leathers were no respecters of female sensibilities. She dropped her gaze as a dangerous stare levelled on her face.
Lost your voice? The voice was low and amused, husky and compelling.
And leather didnt conceal or contain, it stretched and moulded shapes lovingly
Well? Have you? he prompted.
No, but she had been struck by one too many thunderbolts in a single day, Magenta concluded, whipping her head up to stare the man in the eyes. He curved a smile in response that threw her totally, a smile that made his eyes crinkle attractively at the corners.
Im glad you think this is funny, she said, covering her growing feeling of awkwardness with a scowl. I dont care who you are, what you just did was dangerous. Now she sounded like his headmistress and felt old enough to hold the post.
That grin spread from his mouth to his eyes, making her wonder if hed read that thought.
You look to me like you badly need a ride.
Where had that thought come from?
She wished she had the guts to throw him the same grin he had given her earlier. But no, this was how she was, clumsy with men, which made her grumpy and defensive. She might be heavily into studying the sixties for the ad campaign, but it would never occur to her to embrace the concept of free love. And from what shed seen to date nothing about love was free, Magenta reflected as the biker continued to study her with amused interest.
I thought I might come back and see if you still needed rescuing.
Not then and not now.
A man is programmed to play the white knightits built into the genes.
The only thing that was built into his jeans was a warning that she was out of her depth. I can look after myself, thank you.
And so you prove this by standing out here, freezing your butt off?
Just the mention of her butt caused her body to heat. I havent been standing outside all this time. And, anyway, Im going home now.
And how do you intend to do that?
On the underground, or in a cab.
Youll be lucky.
Meaning?
Delays on the line; buses bulging at the seams. And theres not a taxi to found. Not a free one, at least.
She tried not to notice how beautiful the bikers eyes were. They were aquamarine with steely grey rims around the iris, the whites very white and his lashes completely wasted on a man. While his tongue was firmly lodged in his cheek, Magenta suspected. What are you? she demanded. Some sort of information clerk for the city of London?
Just observant. Have you worked up the courage to take a ride with me yet?
Unfortunately, he was right. She could stay here and freeze or she could take her chances with public transport. But hadnt she been lectured on the dangers of taking life too seriously? Shouldnt she at least consider the bikers offer?
Absolutely not.
She turned her back, only to find herself checking the road for black ice. The mystery biker might be the most infuriating, the most arrogant, overbearing and impossible man shed ever met, but the thought of finding him mashed up in a gutter made her heart race with fear for him. Take careits slippery, she mumbled and, putting her head down, she marched towards the exit.
Wheeling his bike in front of her, he stopped dead.
What are you doing? Magenta demanded.
I dont take no for an answer. His eyes glinted with laughter.
I can see that. Does everything amuse you? she demanded, stepping round his bike.
You make me smile.
She kept on walking, but as she dragged her jacket a little closer it occurred to Magenta that she was perhaps being a little ungracious. If youre looking for someone
The bikers eyes glinted.
Im just trying to say, if I can help you in any way
Get on the bike.
No! Yes. What should she do? She had been fascinated by the beacon of freedom women lit in the sixties and talked a good battle when it came to championing the causebut did she ever seize the moment and take action? Or did she always play it safe?
Too damn safe. Helmet?
The biker produced a spare and then patted the seat behind him.
Youre very sure of yourself, arent you? she commented as she buckled it on.
Sure of you. You cant resist a challenge, can you?
And how do you know that?
He shrugged.
The helmet seems like it might fit
Then climb on board.
The husky voice suggested a chastity belt might be a useful piece of kit too.
Before I change my mind He revved the engine.
Are you always so forceful?
Yes.
The master of the one word answer drowned out the demented timpanist in charge of her heart by taking the revs up to danger level. And now she took a proper look at his monster machine she wasnt even sure she could climb on board, as the biker put it. Did her legs even stretch that wide?
Chicken? The smile was masculine and mocking.
I am not. She played for time. Thats a Royal Enfield, isnt it?
You know motorbikes?
Her attention flew to a very sexy mouth. I know the brand, thanks to my research into the sixties, she said primly. She might have known someone as cool as the biker wouldnt ride a pimped-up, over-hyped modern machine. The Enfield was a serious motorbike for serious riders. Big and black, it was vibrating insistently between his leather-clad thighs.
And would soon be vibrating between hers.
No way was she climbing on board.
And she was getting homehow?
Call a cab, the sensible side of her brain suggested. There had to be an empty cab somewhere in the whole of London.
You are chicken, the biker insisted, slanting an amused glance Magentas way.
She laughed dismissively, longing for a way out. But shed done sensible all her life, and look where that had got her.
Well?
Forbidden fruit sprang to mind when she looked at himfruit that was so close, so ripe and so dangerously delicious, she could practically taste it on her tongue. How do I know Ill be safe with you?
You dont.
Her pulse raced. But then, she reasoned, it was only a lift homewhy the fuss? Shouldnt you know my address before we set off?
So, tell me.
She found herself doing so even as she wondered how his strong white teeth would feel if he used them to lightly nip her skin.
Its time to get on the bike, he prompted. Ive no intention of running out of fuel while I wait for you to make up your mind.
Could you take my briefcase and stow it for me, please?
My pleasure, maam. He held out his hand.
I suppose I should thank you, she added belatedly.
I suppose you should, he agreed.
If youre sure its not out of your way?
Im sure.
This man would be equally certain about every decision he made. Hed be just as decisive when he left her standing here freezing her butt off, as hed so elegantly put it, on the basis of her extreme cowardice.
Would you like some help? he said, looking on in bemusement as she started hopping into position.
All she had to do was throw one leg across his seat. How hard could that be? Im fine, thank you.
After one final heave and a lot of unladylike wriggling, she was finally in positionwhich meant close up to the biker. She tried to shuffle back a bit to maintain the proprieties, but the moment he kicked the stand away, released the brake and gunned the engine she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms as tightly as she could around his waist.
A waist without an ounce of fat on it, Magenta registered, but an awful lot of muscle, and if there was a way to ride pillion behind the biker without allowing her body to mould with histhankfully, it had escaped her.
By the time they joined the heavy London traffic, she was pretty familiar with the bikers back and the way his thick hair escaped the helmet to caress the collar on his jacket. She was so familiar she had even started shiveringwith cold, Magenta told herself firmly. Having consigned her safety to the hands of a man she hardly knew, that was more than enough risk to take in one day.
He really knew how to handle a bike and wove in and out of the congested streets of London like a man who really knew what he was doing, while Magenta was increasingly conscious of the insistent vibrations beneath her. It was almost a disappointment when they rolled up outside her neatly manicured town house. Dismounting the bike shakily, she removed her helmet and shook out her long, black hair.
Thats quite a transformation, lady, the biker commented as he lifted off his helmet to stare at her.
You think so? Magenta laughed as she retrieved her clip as it fell to the ground. She couldnt remember feeling so carefree in a long time. Her hair had been blown to blazes, like the rest of herand it felt great. She felt great. Thanks.
My pleasure. His face creased in the now-familiar grin.
Did she imagine the curtains in nearby houses were twitching? For once she didnt care what anyone thought. So she had ridden home on the bike of a tough-looking guy, ditching the power suit and the high-heeled shoes along the way. Short of stripping naked and leaping on top of him in the middle of the street, she was committing no crime.
Coffee? she said, still in the throws of enthusiasm. It seemed only polite. And when would an opportunity like this come round again?
The mans laser gaze was every bit as astonishing as she remembered; she was sure he was going to say, why not? But what he actually said was, I should get back.
Of course What was she thinking?
Where overtures towards good-looking guys were concerned, she was somewhat out of practice, Magenta conceded. But, as this wasnt an overturenot even closebut merely a polite invitation to enjoy a hot drink before making a return journey in the cold, she had nothing to worry about, did she? Genuine Blue Mountain coffee.
You make it hard to refuse, he admitted, slanting a smoky grey-green stare her way.
Impossible, hopefully. Having tasted danger, she wanted more. So? she pressed. Pulling out the house keys, she dangled them in front of him.
I have to get back.
Of course he did. Another time, she said brightly, swallowing down her disappointment. Youve done more than enough for me already. Goodness knows how far youve come out of your way.
Not far.
Tess would be furious with her; she didnt even know his name. But she couldnt hold him here while she cross-questioned him without inviting further humiliation. Its been good meeting you.
And you. He grinned.
By the time she had lifted her hand to wave him off, hed gone.
CHAPTER FOUR
WHY did her house seem so quiet and empty, when it never had before?
Because of the biker, Magenta concluded. With his larger than life personality, he didnt even need to speak to command attention; he just had to be.
Having changed her clothes, and kicked off her shoes with relief, she picked the mail up and headed for the kitchen. The phone stopped her dead. She picked it up.
Magenta Steele? The voice was crisp, deep and very masculine. Gray Quinn here.
Magentas heart rolled over. Gray
Most people call me Quinn. There was a hint of a smile in the voice, but not enough to reassure. Im in the office tying up some loose ends. Id like to see you for a discussion on your position going forward with the company first thing tomorrow morning.
But my father said
Your father doesnt head up Steele Design now. I do. Nine oclock okay with you?
Of course A chill ran through her. Quinn might be a sexy charmer, according to office gossip, but shed just encountered the Genghis Khan side of him.
Ill see you tomorrow, Magentanine oclock sharp.
And it wasnt a suggestion but an order, Magenta gathered as the line cut.
Coffee was needed. The temptation to go straight back to the office to gauge the effect Quinn was having on everyone else was almost impossible to resist. She was worried about her colleagues and felt uncomfortable leaving them.
Plus she had work she could do better at the office, she persuaded herself, and if she got through enough of it her team could have more time off for Christmas shopping. She would get Tess to ring her when the coast was clear.
Now the decision was made, she was all fired up. Forget taking a subtle approach where Quinn was concerned; if she waited until he was bedded in, as her father had suggested, it might be too late to save her friends jobs. Abandoning the idea of coffee, she ran upstairs to take a shower and freshen up.
Now new doubts set in. Even if Tess rung her when Quinn left the office, there was still the possibility he might return and find her there. The thought of meeting him filled Magenta with excitement, but it also filled her with the type of self-doubt that had always plagued her where men were concerned. She would need a lot more than a freshen-up before she ran into Quinna full-body overhaul was called for.
Guided by the horribly honest mirrors in her bathroom, it soon became apparent that she was up against the clock in more ways than one. She would just have to make whatever repairs she could in the short time available.
Collecting up the sixties products she had been hoarding to fuel her imagination for the campaign, she rested the plastic crate on top of the linen basket and started rummaging inside. A queen-sized razor; not a bad place to start.
And what was this? Myriad sparkles of dewy fragrance will embrace your body in a haze of desire at just the touch of a button
A love potion? Well, she could certainly do with some of that.
But after her shower, she decided, stepping beneath the steaming spray.
She had a whole range of retro products in the shower too. She had definitely been infected by the sixties bug. Magenta smiled wryly as she soaped down and thought about Quinn. What would he be like?
That was the only excuse her imagination needed to go crazy. There was only one thing that could make this self-indulgent shower any better, and that was sharing it with Quinnnot that she would; not in the real world. She was better off sticking to work and researching the sixties.
Soap-on-a-rope, come here to me, Magenta crooned, capturing the hippopotamus-shaped soap currently swinging on a cord from her shower head.
She glanced through the open door towards her bed, realising how tired she was. The temptation was to just fall into bed after her shower and dream about Quinn, put a face to that grainy back-view in the magazine Perhaps shed wake up to discover she had a really big share-holding in the businesspower and some cards to play.
But that wasnt going to happen
Turning her face up to the spray, Magenta knew she would have to take a more conventional route by producing some of her best work and by working her thermal socks off.
Turning the shower off, she grabbed a couple of towels and returned to the bedroom, where a spear of inspiration struck. Why not go the whole hog and dress in sixties clothes? Quite a few of her colleagues had already adopted the fashions and the look, so why not join them?
They always banded together at this time of year and had such fundecorating the office, sneaking out for warm, full-fat mince pies with thick globs of cream on topand this year the sixties vibe was adding a special frisson to the holiday celebrations.
She was drying her hair absent-mindedly with a towel as she started flicking through her wardrobe. Like everyone else in the creative team, she had been scouring the vintage shops for examples of sixties clothing, and had struck gold with a form-fitting cream wool dress. Sliding it off the hanger, she laid it on the bed.
Suppliers had rushed to offer samples of their retro products when Magenta had let it be known that she would be running a high-profile campaign, so she had plenty of accessories to choose from. Fortunately, it hadnt been all mini-skirts and hot-pants in the sixties. There had been the hippies in their flowing, get-em-off-quick clothes, the shock-frock dolly-birds in mini-skirts, as well as a more elegant side to the era. This was where Magenta felt comfortablethough it was the underwear she was supposed to wear beneath these stylish clothes that made her laugh. Break out of your little-girl body when youre feeling in a big-girl mood, ran the legend on one pack of matching bra and girdle.
Well, she wasnt a little girl, but she was definitely in a biggirl mood, Magenta decided, conjuring up a vision of Quinn as she broke the seal on the packaging.
It was almost impossible not to think about the new owner of the business, Magenta realised, opening the towel she had wrapped around her body to give her twenty-eight-year-old figure a critical review. She was sitting on the bed facing the dressing-table mirror and she sat up straight immediately. Would he like real women with real bellies, or would his tastes run to something younger and slimmer? Not that she could do much about it in the short time at her disposal. And why worry when her naked body was in zero danger of becoming an issue between them?
She picked up another pack and studied it. What do you wear under your action-wear? Action Underwear, of course
But there wasnt going to be any action.
She put it down, picking up something called the Concentrate girdle.
Concentrate on what? Holding her stomach in the whole time?
I dont think so.
And she certainly didnt need the Little Fibber braone of the only benefits of getting a little older and a little rounder, Magenta thought dryly, tossing the formidable-looking steel-girder-style bra to one side. Strange to think the so-called liberated women of the twenty-first century made so little of her breasts. Breasts were never flaunted at the office in case you were thought of as brainless, as if having lactating glands in common with a cow meant you automatically shared the same IQ. Perhaps that was the reason she had never worn form-fitting clothes to the office before, though she doubted a man as focused on business as Quinn appeared to be would even notice.
She hunted for some sheer tights in her drawer, only to discard them in favour of stockings. Underpinnings were everything, an actress friend had told herthose and shoes. If you didnt get that right, you stood no chance of playing a period piece convincingly.
She picked up another box and quickly disposed of it with an unwelcome shiver of arousal. Damsel in Undress was a definite no-no. The slightest hint to a man like Quinn that she was adopting a compliant men rule mindset to go along with her sixties outfit, and shed be in big trouble. Hed already given her a flavour of his management style. Gray Quinn definitely didnt need any encouragement. He was shaping up to be the original alpha-male. No, this was one occasion when she would be sixties on the outside and bang up to date in her head. But she would consent to wear a provocative cone-shaped bra to achieve the authentic hourglass shapenot forgetting control pants for the belly problem.
And a suspender-belt and stockings were fun.
Having dressed, she slipped on her stiletto heels and immediately felt different. She walked differently too. She tried a few steps up and down the bedroom and found herself sashaying like a famous actress in a hot sixties television programme. She smiled, thinking her actress friend had been right. The shoes and the clothes were like a costume that put her right back in the era, and that was fun.
It was even more fun when she started on the make-uppale foundation and big, smoky eyes outlined so that they appeared even larger. And some Un-lipstick, as it was called, in Shiver Shiver pink.
She certainly shivered as she tasted it. What would Quinn make of that?
Not that he would ever get a chance to find out, Magenta told herself firmly. This was all about dressing up and fantasy. Pressing her lips together, she blotted them in the manner prescribed on the pack and then applied a second coat.
Not bad.
She was ready.
Ready for pretty much anything, Magenta decided as she checked her appearance one last time in the mirror.
She waited for Tesss call and when it came she travelled to the office by taxi to find all the lights were out. Just as Tess had promised, there was no sign of Quinnexactly what she wanted. Well, it would be, once she had stifled her disappointment. All that effort put into grooming for nothing.
At least she could concentrate on work, Magenta told herself firmly. This was a great opportunity to put the finishing touches to the campaign. Having set out her papers on the large desk in her office, she slipped the lock on the door, feeling safer that way in an empty building. Shed make some coffee later to keep herself awake.
She was halfway through drafting a strap line for a sixties hairpiece when she had to stop. She could hardly keep her eyes open and just couldnt get it right: the hair fashion that goes on when you go out
And drops off when you least expect it to?
Magentaexamined the yard-long ponytail made out of synthetic hair and tossed it aside. Some of the products being used to inject fun into the campaign were odd, but this was downright ugly. Surely no self-respecting woman would want to wear a hair-tugger on top of her head that weighed a ton, looked gross and at a guess took a whole card of hair grips to hold in place? If you werent bald when you started your evening out, you certainly would be by the end of it.
And yet it was a genuine sixties product, Magenta mused, leaning her cheek against her folded arms as she stared at the unappealing hairpiece and waiting for inspiration to strike. Shed been so enthusiastic up to now, seeing only the good, the fun and the innovation of the sixties. But, realistically, how many other things about that time would have got right up her nose?
MagentaMagenta! Wake up!
Whats wrong? Magenta started with alarm as someone grabbed hold of her arm and shook her awake. Well dressed in sixties style, the girl looked smart and brightand totally unfamiliar. Magenta felt like she had the hangover from helland, not having had a drop to drink, that was a serious concern. How long have I been asleep? Her neck suddenly didnt seem strong enough to lift her ridiculously heavy head from the desk.
Magenta, you have to get out of here now.
Why? Is there a fire?
WorseQuinn, the girl explained with what sounded like panic in her voice. He mustnt find you here.
Why not? Magenta stared in bewilderment around her office, which seemed to have been cleared of all her creature comforts while shed been asleep. But it wasnt just the flowers, the coffee machine, the bottles of water or the family photographs that were missing. Hey, wheres my laptop? she said, shooting up. Has there been a robbery?
Magenta, I dont know what youre talking about, but I do know you have to get out of here now.
All right, all right! Magenta exclaimed as the girl took her by the arm and physically dragged her towards the door. Im sure I locked this door last night.
I used my key. The girl shook a spare set in her face.
Whats the rush? Ill need my mobile phone, and wheres my tote, my handbag, my briefcase? Magenta demanded, glancing back at the vastly changed room.
No more questions, her new friend hissed frantically, tugging at Magentas arm. We dont have time. Quinn will be here any minute.
A multitude of thoughts and impressions were slowly percolating through Magentas sluggish brain. This was a new girl, possibly someone Quinn had brought in. She seemed nice, though, confusingly, she seemed to know Magenta when Magenta was certain they had never met before. Did Quinn get my list? she said, clinging on to priorities while her brain sorted itself out.
What list? You didnt give me a list.
No, thats rightI gave it to Tess.
Tess?
This girl didnt know Tess? Sorry, uh
Nancy, the girl supplied, looking at her with real concern. Magenta, are you sure youre okay?
Yes, Im fine. This was growing stranger by the minute; if she hadnt felt so heavy-headed she would have been faster off the mark. I gave a list of the list of things Quinn should implement immediately to one of the girls in the office.
Nancy huffed. If you had given me a list like that, I would have seriously lost it on purpose.
Has Quinn been bullying you? She forgot her own con- fusion; bullying in the office was one thing she wouldnt stand, and Magentas concerns soared when Nancy refused to answer almost as if she was frightened of being overheard. Well, no ones going to bully you while Im aroundespecially not Quinn.
Nancy hummed and started tugging on Magentas arm again. Im not joking, Magenta, we have to get out of here.
But where do you want me to go? This had been Magentas office sincewell, she could hardly remember; it had been hers for so long now.
You work in the typing pool, remember? Nancy told her urgently, poking her head out of the door to check the coast was clear.
The typing pool? Magenta laughed. Is this some joke of Quinns to get us all in the right mood for the sixties campaign?
Nancy gave her a funny look.
To be more accurate, you used to work in the typing pool, she finally replied, nudging Magenta towards the door. The guy who ran the place before hotshot Quinn arrived from the States took his office manager with him, so Quinn promoted you.
Why didnt Quinn text me? And whats this? Magenta demanded as Nancy bundled her towards a mean little desk set to one side of her office doora door she now noticed with outrage that already bore the legend, Gray Quinn.
This is your desk now, Magenta, Nancy explained. Its a great improvement to the typing pool, dont you think?
Do you want to hear what I think? No. I didnt think so, Magenta agreed as Nancy shook her head. I dont know whats happening around here, but this isnt my deskand Quinn definitely cant take over my office.
But, Magenta, you used to work in the typing poolyouve never had your own office, Nancy insisted, looking increasingly concerned about Magentas state of mind. Dont you remember anything?
Magenta swept a hand across her eyes as if hoping everything would change back again by the time she opened them again. But, to make things worse, people she didnt even know were staring at her as if she was the one who was mad.
But how could this have happened? She gazed around and felt her anger rising. Quinn had to be some sort of monumental chauvinist; men occupied all the private offices while the women had been relegated to old-fashioned typewriterseither in the typing pool, where they sat in rows behind a partition as if they were at school, or at similar desks to this one outside the office doors. Ready to do their masters bidding, Magenta presumed angrily. She remembered her father telling her how it used to be for the majority of female office workers in the sixties. Why are all the girls typing? she asked Nancy in a heated whisper.
Its their job! Nancy said, frowning.
But why arent they working on the campaign? Magenta noticed now that many of the women, some of whose faces were adorned with heavy-framed, upswept spectacles, were pretending not to look at her.
What campaign? Nancy queried, stepping back as a keen teen brushed passed her.
Wow, Magenta, you look really choice!
I do? Magenta spun on her heels as the young man she had never seen before gave her a rather too comprehensive once-over. Why, thank you?
Jackson, Nancy supplied, having cottoned on to the fact that Magenta needed all the help she could get.
Jackson. Magenta raised a brow. Stop staring at your Auntie Magenta and go find yourself a girlfriend.
Jackson laughed as if Magenta could always be relied upon to say something funny. Youre a gas, baby.
Had Quinn changed all the personnel? Of course, he was perfectly entitled to, Magenta reasoned. Quinn ran the show now. But what had happened to her friends? And what had happened to their working environment?
So many questions stacked up in her mind, with not a single answer to one of them that made sense.
CHAPTER FIVE
LOOK, Magenta, I dont want to rush you, Nancy said in a way that clearly said that was exactly what she wanted to do. But Quinns only slipped out for an eleven oclock appointment.
So what? Magenta said impatiently. Hes got a damn nerve. She was still looking round, trying to take everything in. She could understand Quinn wanting to live the sixties in order to give the campaign that final fizz of authenticityhadnt she done the same thing herself? But didnt he know there was such a thing as going too far? Nancy, whats been going on here?
The usual? Following her glance, Nancy gazed around the office.
The usual, Magenta repeated grimly. Is it usual to remove the computers?
The what?
Okay, so Quinns got you playing his game, Magenta said. I can understand that you dont want to lose your jobIm just thinking of all the expense involved in putting this right again She had already reasoned that the reorganisation of the office would have been fairly easy if Quinn had copied the layout from the old photographs on the wall, but there were other things she couldnt account for. There was a different feel to the place, never mind the look, which was dated, a little drab and definitely not the right environment to encourage cutting-edge design work. She thought it boring, not to mention inhospitable. There were different phones too, but it was the ergonomically unhelpful furniture that really concerned herand single glazing? Had Quinn gone mad? Never mind the expense, what about condensation? Cold? If people were uncomfortable at work, productivity would suffer. Didnt Quinn know anything?
And there was a different smell too
Cigarette smoke?
Nancy! Magenta exclaimed with increased urgency.
Are you all right, Magenta? Glancing round, Nancy grabbed a chair and tried to press Magenta into it.
Im fine. She was anything but fine. What had happened here? Had Quinn got people in to dress the offices like a sixties stage-set? And how was it possible she had slept through those changes? But it wasnt just the noise element that concerned her; these changes were too thorough, too perfect, too convincing.
Magentas throat dried. This wasnt some office teambuilding exercise. This was reality. This was reality for Nancy and for all the people here. It was Magenta who was out of sync. She must have fallen down the rabbit hole, like Alice, while shed been asleep and landed in the sixties. And now the shock of being trapped inside a dream was only exceeded by her dread of meeting Quinn. From what shed gathered, he was just the sort of man who would slot right into the sixties, where men ruled. Quinn obviously thought they did.
Magenta took a few steadying breaths while Nancy looked on anxiously. Magentas heart was pounding uncontrollably, but whatever had happened she would have to manage it.
She looked as much a part of the sixties as everyone else in the office, Magenta reassured herself, with her carefully made-up face, perfect hair and vintage cream wool dress. Though you could have bounced bullets off her underwear, it did outline her shape to the point where her breasts were outrageously prominent. That, believe it or not, was the fashion. It could best be described as sex in your face. No wonder Jackson had commented; she should have known better than to dress like this, but had done so innocently. Back in the real world, it had made her feel sexyand after the encounter with the biker she had wanted to prove to herself that she still could feel that way. Now she realised drawing attention to herself in a sixties office was asking for trouble.
But, on the plus side, she had been researching the era for quite some time, so even locked into this bizarre dream she wasnt entirely out on a limb. She could even accept and be a little reassured by the fact that the dream seemed to be influenced by her research; there was certainly plenty of raw material here. Although quite how the summer of love, the sexual revolution and the Whisky a Go Go, the first disco in Americawhich just happened to be Quinns homelandwould manifest themselves remained to be seen.
She would have to rely on what she knew if she was going to anticipate and avoid some of the problems, Magenta concluded. She would draw on that knowledge nowand her first action would be to open all the windows and let the smoke out.
Predictably everyone complained that it was too cold. Well, you cant smoke in here, Magenta insisted. Its against the law.
Since when? one of the younger guys asked, swinging his arm around her waist to drag her close so she had no alternative but to inhale his foul-smelling breath.
And that is too, she informed him, removing his searching hand from her tightly sculpted rear end.
Ooh. He turned to his friends to pull a mocking face. What got into your bed this morning, Miss Steele?
No one? another man suggested, to raucous jeers.
We all know whats wrong with you, ice maiden.
Cut it out! Magenta said angrily. Im not in the mood.
Apparently, you never are, one of the men murmured to his colleagues in a stage whisper.
As if that were the cue for the main player to enter the scene, the double doors at the far end of the office swung open and every head swivelled in that direction. Some of the women even stood at their desks as if royalty was about to enter the room. To say Magenta was stunned by this reaction wouldnt even come close. What the?
Quinn, Nancy told her tensely, hurrying away.
Magenta turned to say something to Nancy, but everyone including Nancy had returned to work the second Quinn arrived. And Quinn didnt just arrivehe strode across the floor like a conquering hero. To make matters worse, all the women were giving him simpering glances when what he needed, in Magentas opinion, was a short, sharp, shock and someone to stand up to him. Whatever dream state they were both trapped in, this was getting out of hand.
But could this really be Quinn? Magentas head was reeling. Quinn in the sixties was none other than the gorgeous biker, in a jauntily angled Trilby hat and a dark overcoat that, instead of making him look silly, only succeeded in making him look like the master of the sexual universe.
Magenta, he said curtly, shrugging the coat off his shoulder and handing it to her along with his hat.
He knew her?
Thats a better look for you, he said, giving Magenta the most intrusive inspection yet. I like to see a woman in a dress with some shape to it.
What?
Keep it up, he said approvingly. And remember, I expect the same high standards from my staff at all times
Yes, sir, she said smartly, playing along, which was all she could doother than acknowledge Quinn was a beyond the pale chauvinistas well as the best-looking man she had ever seen in her life. With his tough-guy body clothed in a sharply tailored dark suit and impeccably knotted tie, he looked amazing.
Ill need you for a meeting later, he said, as though they had been working together for ever. There was not a shred of equality between them, Magenta registered with a spear of concern.
So no gossiping with the other girls in the kitchen when youre supposed to be making my coffee, Quinn warned.
Would that be the coffee with the extra-strong laxative in it? Magenta wondered.
And absolutely no lunch break for any of you girls. Youll have a lot of work to get through by the time I finish the meeting Im going into nowunderstood?
Actually, no, Im a bit confused. Magenta thought Quinn had called a meeting to discuss her position with the company going forward, but perhaps that directive hadnt made it through to the sixties. She decided to prompt him, if only to find out how much had travelled with her in the dream. So, youre having another meeting first?
What are you talking about? Quinn demanded impatiently.
Another meeting before our meeting?
Quinn had no worries about touching Magenta. Taking hold of her shoulder in a firm grip, he steered her into an alcove out of sight of the rest of the office. Not in front of everyone, Magenta And then his eyes warmed in a way that made her heart stop. Later, maybeif I have the time.
Magentas mouth formed a question, but she was so stunned by Quinns brazenly sexual behaviour her voice refused to function, and when she did speak it was only to ask Quinn what he wanted her to do with his hat and coat.
Why, hang it up, of course, he said as if she were one card short of a pack. And when youve done that Ill need plenty of coffeehot, strong and black. Oh, and when you come into the meeting later, dont forget your shorthand notebook.
My?
Youre the office manager now, Magentathats quite a promotion for you. Youll have to sharpen up if you want to set the seal on this position.
Shed set something in concretethe deeds of the building, perhaps, before she dropped them from a great height on Quinns head.
But someone else owned the building now, she remembered, biting her lip. Steele Design had been called Style Design when her father had bought it. She had no stake at all here.
.
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Wanted in the bedroom not the boardroom! Magenta knows having a new employer might be tricky. But she isnt expecting the old-fashioned ruthlessness of Gray Quinn! However, plucky Magenta is up for the challenge, and tries to play the distractingly gorgeous Quinn at his own gameQuinn is no New Man: he wants temptingly innocent Magenta in his bedroom, not the boardroom. But he can make her no promises. Hell give her the night of her life, but he might not be there when she wakes up And he definitely doesnt want her taking maternity leave!MEN WITHOUT MERCY Arrogant and proud, unashamedly male!
Shall we get down to business? she suggested, putting her glass down.
Quinns lips pressed down with amusement as he put his own glass down next to hers. Im ready if you are.
This was business?
Quinn had dragged her into his arms, and his kisses were a brushing, teasing, honeyed reminder. I shouldnt
You should. You must.
Quinns dark eyes glinted with humour, and then he deepened the kiss. The chance to experience everything she had ever dreamed about with Quinna man who exuded power, raw and unrepentantwas now a very real possibility. She had always been awkward with men beforeconcerned shed get it wrongbut the way Quinn was kissing her, binding every part of her to him, left very little to chance.
Best of all, Magenta reasoned, nothing could go wrong in a dreamthere were no consequences. She was free of inhibition and of embarrassment. Her twenty-first-century world of metro-males and smooth-cheeked mummys boys had never seemed further away as Quinn persuaded her this was one experience she shouldnt miss out on.
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this new and exciting mini-series!
MEN WITHOUT MERCY
Arrogant and proud, unashamedly male!
Modern Romance with a retro twist
Step back in time to when men were men
and women knew just how to tame them!
About the Author
SUSAN STEPHENS was a professional singer before meeting her husband on the tiny Mediterranean island of Malta. In true Modern Romance style they met on Monday, became engaged on Friday, and were married three months after that. Almost thirty years and three children later, they are still in love. (Susan does not advise her children to return home one day with a similar story, as she may not take the news with the same fortitude as her own mother!)
Susan had written several non-fiction books when fate took a hand. At a charity costume ball there was an after-dinner auction. One of the lots, Spend a Day with an Author, had been donated by Mills & Boon author Penny Jordan. Susans husband bought this lot, and Penny was to become not just a great friend but a wonderful mentor, who encouraged Susan to write romance.
Susan loves her family, her pets, her friends, and her writing. She enjoys entertaining, travel, and going to the theatre. She reads, cooks, and plays the piano to relax, and can occasionally be found throwing herself off mountains on a pair of skis or galloping through the countryside. Visit Susans website: www.susanstephens.net she loves to hear from her readers all around the world!
RUTHLESS BOSS,
DREAM BABY
SUSAN STEPHENS
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHAPTER ONE
MAGENTA yelped with alarm as a scuffed bikers boot slammed onto the ground within inches of her feet. What the hell do you think youre doing? she exploded, frantically clutching the armful of documents threatening to spill from her arms.
Taking off his helmet, the man shook out a mop of inky-black hair. He was exactly the type of man you didnt want to see when youd had the day from hell and looked like youd been dragged through a hedge backwards: gorgeous, cool, and commanding. He had danger flashing round him like neon lights.
Well? Magenta demanded furiously. Do you always ride a motorcycle like a maniac?
Always, he drawled.
I should report you.
Eyes the colour of a storm-tossed ocean laughed back at her.
And she would report him, Magenta determined, just as soon as she sorted out the flat on her car, along with a million and one other things.
Such as her father deciding to retire and sell his shares to some stranger without a word to her. Such as saving her colleagues jobs from this unknown predator. Such as wanting to get back to her team and their fast-moving, retro ad campaign set in Magentas favourite era, the sixties.
Do you mind? she said, trying to skirt around the mans monstrous, throbbing machine. Some of us have work to do.
Is that why youre leaving the office early?
Since when are my working hours your concern?
The biker shrugged.
Magentas glance swept the car park. Where was the security guard when you needed him? She had been loading up the car with things she intended to finish over the weekend in her own timenot that she was about to explain that to this guy, who looked like he spent his weekends in bed. And not alone.
Youre leaving me? he demanded as she made a move to continue on her way.
Somehow Im managing to drag myself away.
What was he doing in the car park of Steele Design anyway? Was he a courier? Do you have a package?
His grin made her cheeks blaze red. She had to watch her words in future, Magenta concluded. They were about the same agemaybe he was a year or two olderbut his eyes held infinitely more experience. If you dont have anything to deliver, this is private property and you should leave.
He raised an eyebrow.
Oh, good. He was really impressed by her command of the situation.
The bikers self-confidence was making her edgythat and his manner, which was cool, when she was fuming. Some men were just comfortable in every situation and this man was clearly one of them.
A sharp flurry of snow kept her hurrying along but the mans laugh was warm and sexy on her back. Whats so urgent you cant spare a moment to chat? he called.
She stopped and turned to confront him. Not that its any business of yours, but I am going inside to put on the clothes I wear in the gym so I can change the tyre on my car.
Can I help you?
No.
Perhaps she should at least have thanked him for the offer.
Now she felt guilty?
Settling the helmet on his head again, he revved the engine. Youre going? she said, perversely wanting him to stay.
Powerful shoulders eased in a careless shrug.
Why exactly was she driving him away, when he was the most interesting thing to have happened in a long time? Because she had more sense than to prolong the encounter, Magenta reasoned, crunching snow underfoot as she started on her way again. But, instead of riding off, the man kept pace with her, scuffing his boots on the surface of the road as he kept the engine purring along in neutral. Havent you gone yet? she demanded.
Im waiting to see you in gym clothes. He grinned.
She huffed at this, all the time trying to work him out. He was dressed too casually to be a businessman and his voice was low and husky with an accent she didnt recognise. Perhaps he was a mature student; there was a college across the road.
I could give you a lift.
I bet you could. A face and body like his could give any woman a lift. But something about him warned her that this was a man who could switch in the blink of an eye from humorous and warm to the modern-day equivalent of Genghis Khanand shed had all the aggravation she could take for one day.
You are one stressed-out lady. Dont you ever relax?
Was he kidding? Who had time to relax? Plus, she shouldnt even think about relaxing while this guy was around. He looked too fit, too dangerous. My car is shot. Bust. Broken. What part of that should entice me to relax?
Like I said, Id be happy to give you a lift.
She might have given his well-packed leathers a thorough inspection and found them more than to her liking, but she didnt know him from Adam. I never accept lifts from strangers, she informed him, tilting her chin at what she hoped would pass for an unapproachable angle.
Very wise, he said, calmly wheeling along at her side.
Dont you ever give up?
Never.
Her heart was thundering. Why?
She was heading off towards the side entrance and the employee lockers where her gym clothes were stowed, and was looking forward to closing the door on his arrogant face right up to the moment when he gunned the engine and rode away.
She stared after the streak of black lightning until it disappeared at the end of the road, feelingwistful.
Well, shed blown it, so it was no use crying over lost opportunities now.
Had there been something special about himan instant connection between them? Or was that the wanderings of an exhausted mind?
Far more likely, Magenta decided. The biker could have insisted on fixing her tyre if hed really wanted to.
Whatever happened to chivalry? Women like her, Magenta concluded, women who accepted equality as their right and who scowled if a man so much as offered to open a door for them.
Having retrieved her gym clothes from her locker, she threw them on, together with a warm jacket and a scarf. Returning to her car, she lifted the cover concealing the spare.
No spare!
She stared in disbelief at the empty space, and then remembered her father saying something about a puncture a few months back. They had matching cars, which at one time Magenta had thought cute. Not today; her father must have told the mechanics to help themselves to her spare and had forgotten to ask them to replace it.
It was her own fault for not checking.
The business was falling down around her ears, she might not even have a job after Christmas and she was crying over a flat tyre. Pressing back against the car, she shut her eyes, waiting for the tears to stop threatening. Finally, having convinced herself it was no use worrying about something she couldnt change, she decided to go inside, get warm and call a cab. Or she could always catch the underground; there was a tube station near her house.
And here came the security guard. Hurrying over to him, Magenta explained she would call someone to come and rescue her car.
When she returned to the office her father was ready to leave, to sign the deal to sell his shares.
I thought youd gone, Clifford Steele complained, checking the angle of his silk tie. No family members muddying the water until this new man has settled in and I have his money in the bankthose are the rules.
And I was obeying them. I was just loading up the car when I discovered I had a flat. And guess what? Magenta added dryly. I dont have a spare.
Call a cab, her father advised without a flicker of remorse. Cant stay, he added, wrapping a cashmere muffler around his neck. Im off to sign the final papers. Just make sure youre out of here in case Quinn decides to come and take a look at his latest acquisition.
She heard the note of resentment in her fathers voice and kissed his cheek. It couldnt be easy selling out to a younger, more successful man. Clifford Steele might be high-handed, and his extravagance might have brought the company to its knees, but he was her father and she loved him and would do nothing to risk his comfortable retirement. It was up to her to sort the mess out now in an attempt to try and save her colleagues jobs.
If the new owner allowed her to.
Gray Quinn might not keep her on, Magenta realised anxiously. Thanks to her fathers outdated belief that men ran businesses while bricks and mortar provided better security for a woman, she owned the building but not a single voting-share.
As youre still here, make yourself useful, her father instructed. Im sure the men would like a cup of coffee before you go. So youre a senior account exec, he added with impatience when he saw her face. But no one makes a cup of coffee like
A well-trained woman? Magenta suggested, tongue-in-cheek.
Like you, I was about to say. You work too hard, Magenta, and you take yourself far too seriously. Stress isnt good for a woman your age, her father commented in his usual tactful manner. If youre not careful it will give you wrinkles. You should take a breakget a decent nights sleep.
Yes, Dad. Her father might have stepped straight out of their sixties campaign, when men had a high opinion of themselves and women were still working out how to let them down lightly, Magenta mused wryly. Thats just the way it is, her father was fond of telling her whenever she complained he was a dinosaur. Thats just the way you are, she always amended fondly.
He had some parting words for her. If youll take my advice, Magentawhich I doubtyoull make yourself scarce until the new owner is settled in. Quinn will soon lose interest and leave the running of the company to the old guard.
Goodbye, Dad.
Lose interest? That didnt sound like the Gray Quinn Magenta had read about. Dynamic and cool under pressure was how the financial papers described himnot to mention ruthless and tough. Oh yes, and practically invisible. If there was a good photograph of Gray Quinn in existence, he had managed to keep it out of the public eye. Life under her fathers autocratic rule had been bad enough, but Quinn was an unknown quantity, and Magentas major concern was for her colleagues. Of course, if Quinn wanted a clean sweep, he might fire them alland if he squashed the zing out of the ad agencys creative personnel it would go down anyway.
If Quinn booted her, she would just have to keep an eye on things from the sidelines, Magenta concluded, going to the window to stare out. If she had to remortgage her house and start a new company to keep everyone in work, then she would.
And what exactly was she looking for now? The biker? She should know better.
She did know better, and pulled away.
Turning her back to the window, she huffed wryly. Business might come easily to her, but where men were concerned she had a long history of failure. She didnt have the right chat, the right lookand the guy on the bike would almost certainly know that she hadnt had a date in ages. He looked like some sort of expert where women were concerned. Magenta smiled as she perched on the edge of the desk to call a cab. The famous orgasm was probably a fiction dreamed up by ad men, anyway.
There were no cabs, at least not for an hour or more. Snow and Christmas shoppers were held to account for the shortage of vehicles.
So, the underground it was.
Having checked she had everything she would need to work at home, Magenta called the garage to come and sort out the car and then brought her team into the office for one last discussion. The holidays were almost on them and she wanted everyone to feel confident about launching the campaign in the New Year before she left.
Would she even be coming back? Magenta wondered as her friends filed into the room. She couldnt afford to think like that. She owed it to the team to be positive. She couldnt let them see how worried she was. This wasnt the end of Steele Design, it was a new beginning, she told herself firmly as she announced, Im going to be working at home for the time being.
You cant leave the week before Christmas, Magentas right arm, Tess, stated flatly.
Ill be in touch with you the whole time.
Its not the same, Tess argued. What about the Christmas party?
There are more important things than thatlike keeping our jobs? Magenta suggested when Tess protested. And why cant you organise it? Magenta prodded gently.
Because you have the magic, Tess argued.
Ill be in touch every day, I just wont be physically sitting at my deskwhere, apparently, Magenta added mischievously, I might present a threat to Quinn. Yes, I know Im scary, she said when the team began to laugh.
While she had them in a good mood she turned the conversation to business. Youre a fantastic team, and its crucial that Quinn sees the best of you guys, so I want you to forget about me and concentrate on making a good first impression.
Forget about you? Tess scoffed. How are we going to do that when you havent even given us a theme for the party yet?
Glad to hear Ive got some uses, Magenta said dryly, glancing at her wristwatch. She was starting to feel edgy. She had made a promise to her father to keep out of the way, so there wasnt much time for dreaming up ideas for the party. Keep it simple, she instructed herself out loud. What about a sixties theme?
Brilliant, Tess agreed. Weve got half the props already, and youd look great in a paper dress.
AhI wont be at the party this year.
Well, thats nonsense. What will it be like without you?
Much more fun, I should think. Magenta was remembering how shed pulled the plug the previous year when she had thought the men in the office were getting a little out of hand. Im only on the end of the phone.
I give you twenty-four hours and youll be back here, Tess predicted. Theres too much going on for you to stay away. And theres another thing, she murmured, drawing Magenta aside. Ive noticed something different about you this morning. Cant put my finger on it yet, but I will.
I dont know what you mean.
Ha! Tess exclaimed. Youre on the defensive already. You look wary. No, she argued with herself, not wary. You look alertexcited, alive. Yes, thats it. Have you met someone, Magenta?
Dont be ridiculous! Im only worried about the future here.
No Tess gave a confident shake of her head. Theres something elsesomething youre not telling me.
Maybe her red cheeks had given her away, Magenta thought wryly as the biker flashed into her mind.
Its nothing to be ashamed of if youve met someone you like, Tess insisted.
But I havent, Magenta arguedtoo heatedly, she realised now.
CHAPTER TWO
TESS hurried to reassure her. I know youre worried about the company, and whats going to happen under the new owner, but youre entitled to a private life, Magenta. In fact, as your friend Im going to be blunt about thisyou need a private life.
Magenta paused before continuing. All right. This is going to sound ridiculous
Try me.
Tess was waiting but, though she worked with words for a living, Magenta was suddenly struck dumb. How could she explain the trembling inside her, or the excitement, the awareness, even the outlandish suspicion that she had met her soul mate this morning? The biker had caught her at the worst possible moment and yet with his arrival it was as if everything had brightened. As if the world had suddenly come into sharp focusand in a freezing-cold car park, of all places. How romantic!
The fact remained, it was as if the sun had shone down just on her, as if her life had opened up to a multi-coloured carousel of opportunity.
If shed had the courage to seize it, which she clearly she hadnt. There was a guy this morning in the car park.
I knew it.
Shh. Magenta glanced round, but no one was listening; they were too busy fighting over the choice of music for the party. It was nothingjust a good-looking guy. Not my type at all, and he wasnt remotely interested. So now you know.
But he excited you?
He certainly did something.
He made you tingle. He made you feel alive.
Youre a romantic, Tess. He made me angry.
You shouted at him? Tess frowned.
I gave him a piece of my mind, yes.
And how did he react?
He laughed at me.
But thats wonderful! Tess exclaimed. What a start.
There is no start, it was just an episode.
And episodes have sequels.
Not this one, Tess.
You never know, he may come back. Hes seen you nowhow could he resist? And when a man laughs with you, well, thats the start of intimacy, in my book.
It is?
Dont you know anything?
Not much, Magenta confessed. After the rush of gold-diggers when I was in my first flush of youth, all the likely contenders lost interest.
Only because you frightened them away, dragon lady.
They werent worth keeping.
And this guys a keeper?
For someone, definitely, but not me.
Why not? Whats wrong with you?
Its not even worth discussing, Magenta said wryly. Hes not going to ask me out on a date. I dont expect Ill ever see him again. It was just a chance encounter that made some sort of ridiculous impression on me because I was feeling tired and vulnerable, and
Lacking in confidence where the mating game is concerned, Tess supplied. Just promise me one thing, Magenta if you do see him again, dont shout at him. Try a smile next time.
They both laughed as Tess demonstrated how to do it.
Come on, Magenta said, turning back to the room. I need to call this meeting to order or the Mighty Quinn will be here and my father will never speak to me again. So, are we good? she asked her team. Does everyone like the theme for the party?
Can we share out the sixties samples for costumes and accessories? one of the girls asked her.
Of course. Just help yourselves.
Magenta was relieved her idea had gone down so well. Everyone needed a boost. They were all on edge wondering what changes the new owner would bring, and the sixties theme allowed them to indulge their fantasies and forget about work for a while. Her team had really been infected by the sixties bug, with quite a few of them trialling the fashions of the time. The sixties styling really suited Tess, Magenta noticed now, with her smoky eyes, long, curving fringe and high ponytail, Tess looked fabulous.
I still cant believe youre not going to be here when the new boss arrives, Tess said, seeing she had Magentas attention.
Ill leave that pleasure to you. All right, go on, Magenta said, seeing Tess was bursting to tell her something. Youve heard some gossip about him, she guessed. What is it?
Girls! Tess exclaimed dramatically as she turned to face the room. Will you enlighten this poor innocent about our new owner, or shall I?
No one was going to deny Tess that pleasure, Magenta suspected.
She was right. Raising a carefully drawn eyebrow, Tess explained, They call him the Mighty Quinn because according to the gossip mags and here she paused Gray Quinn isnt just a giant in business, if you take my meaning.
Magenta pretended to be shocked. But no one knows him, no ones seen him. How do they know?
Oh, come on, Tess protested. Dont tell me you dont like a little mystery in your life? And if hes built
Tess, this is a professional environment. But Magenta had started to laugh. Okay, so maybe we have to get him into some tight-fitting flares to find out.
There, I knew you wouldnt leave us, Tess declared. You have to stay and see him now. You cant resist.
Magenta felt a frisson of alarm. She wasnt an experienced girl-about-town like Tess. Business was her comfort zone; it would be far better if she wasnt here if Quinn was some sort of lady-killer. She felt confident behind a deskwriting, dreaming, imagining how other people might react to an advertisement, to lifebut when it came to herself.
Look at this, Tess said, pushing a magazine across the table. And then tell me youre going to stay away from the office while Quinn settles in.
Theres not much to see, Magenta complained, though her body reacted strangely to what was little more than a shot of a mans back. What was so arousing about that? For some weird reason, her body disagreed.
Quinn was obviously in a hurry to get wherever hed been going, Magenta registered, studying the grainy print to try and fathom out her reaction to it. And then she got a bolt of something totally inappropriate for a woman who by her own admission was hardly sexually experienced. Quinns height, the imposing width of his shoulders, the way he held himselfeverything appealed to her. Quinn was different from most men in that he was taut, powerful and exuded confidence, as if he were ready for anything. He looked like the type of man who inspired confidence in others, too.
He wouldnt even look at her, Magenta reassured herself, releasing a long, shivering breath. There were so many pretty girls in the world, quite a few of whom worked here at Steele Design. Why would a man like Quinn look at an old maid like her?
Theirs would be a match made in hell, she convinced herself, pushing the magazine back to Tess. Imagine adding a man like that to her workload!
What do you know about Quinn, Magenta? one of the younger girls asked her. We know you did lots of research on him when you started to prepare this project to entice him to invest in Steele Design.
I did, Magenta admitted. But I was never able to find any proper photographs. Im surprised Tess found this. She glanced again at the magazine. I gather Quinns celebrity-averse. And no wonder, judging by the gossip youve heard about him. A man like that must prize his privacy above everything else. I do know he was orphaned at an early age, and that he dragged himself up by his bootstraps, but thats about it. Oh, and he doesnt suffer fools gladly.
At all, Tess amended, shooting a warning glance around the circle of suddenly concerned faces.
Which is why you have to be on your mettle whether Im here or not, Magenta stressed. Smoothing back her long, dark hair, she wound it into the casual chignon she customarily wore at the office, securing it with a silver clip. And dont forget that, unless Quinn sacks me, Ill be back in the New Year when well make our final presentation to him as a team.
Sacks you? Tess pulled a face. I havent read that hes crazy.
But he may not want a member of the old guard working for him, as my father calls us. Here are some documents I drew upwhere we are with each campaign et cetera. Make sure he gets them, will you, Tess?
Of course I will But Tess still looked worried. Do you have to go?
I cant risk screwing up Dads deal.
Well, at least you dont have to worry about the documents. Ill see Quinn gets them.
Thank you. Magenta turned to go. But she should have known Tess hadnt finished with her yet.
And if you change your mind about the party
I only wish I could. The end-of-year party was important, but nowhere near as important as keeping Magentas team in work. The last thing she wanted was to alienate Quinn, or have him think she was trying to split the teams loyalty. She hoped she had made a persuasive case for keeping all her colleagues on in the documents shed given Tess. To add a little weight to that hope, she had drafted an outline for the next campaign, centred on products she knew Quinn wanted to push and which she hoped would keep his interest in the company going forward.
You cant leave us, Tess stressed discreetly as Magenta prepared to go. Youre the heart of the team.
Youll do just fine without meand, anyway, I havent gone yet. Lets see how it goes. Quinn isnt a fool. Just keep doing what youre doing, and he wont be able to let any of you go.
But Magenta started fretting before she left the room. The promise to her father counted highly with her, but it went against the grain to walk out on her friends. Her father had his money now and wanted nothing more to do with the company, whereas her colleagues were all desperate to keep their jobs. Maybe Tess was right; maybe she wouldnt be able to stay away.
When Magenta got down to the car park it was full of recovery vehicles with red lights flashing and men in high-vis jackets.
Why was nothing ever straightforward? Magenta wondered, urging herself to remain calm as the mechanics explained to her that, as hers was a vintage car, they couldnt repair it now but would have to order a tyre. They were going to recover the vehicle and keep it in the garage over Christmas and she could collect it some time in the New Year. No, they couldnt be more specific than that, the mechanic in charge told her, scratching his head.
Pulling up her collar against a sudden squall of icy wind, Magenta thanked the men for turning out in such diabolical weather and insisted on giving each of them a crisp new note. Why shouldnt someone enjoy their day?
Wrapping her arms around her body to keep warm, she watched as her car was loaded onto the transporter. She was just bending down to retrieve her bag and briefcase when a familiar roar made her jump, and a familiar boot stamping down by her feet made her scowl.
Dont tell me, she managed as the biker lifted off his helmet. You didnt get me the first time around, so youve come back to finish me off with a heart attack?
Your hearts safe from me.
Oh
Was she supposed to feel quite so disappointed? Magentas brain raced as the biker lifted one ebony eyebrow, sending a tidal wave of hot, feral lust rushing through her veins. Removing one protective leather glove, the man stretched out his hand for her to shake.
You surely dont expect me to shake your hand after youve frightened me half to death, not once but twice?
He grinned. Youre not that feeble, Im sure. But my apologies, if I frightened you.
The mock bow made her heart thunder into action. But what exactly did he find so funny?
Something tells me were going to be seeing a lot of each other, the biker said, closing one warm, strong hand around Magentas frozen fingers.
Yeah, right. In your dreams, she thought.
CHAPTER THREE
AS THE biker dismounted his machine and straightened up, Magenta felt her cheeks fire red. He was a lot taller than she had expected and had the type of shoulders that blotted out the light. She had to fight the desire to give him a comprehensive twice-over. She already knew he was an amazing-looking man and that tight black leathers were no respecters of female sensibilities. She dropped her gaze as a dangerous stare levelled on her face.
Lost your voice? The voice was low and amused, husky and compelling.
And leather didnt conceal or contain, it stretched and moulded shapes lovingly
Well? Have you? he prompted.
No, but she had been struck by one too many thunderbolts in a single day, Magenta concluded, whipping her head up to stare the man in the eyes. He curved a smile in response that threw her totally, a smile that made his eyes crinkle attractively at the corners.
Im glad you think this is funny, she said, covering her growing feeling of awkwardness with a scowl. I dont care who you are, what you just did was dangerous. Now she sounded like his headmistress and felt old enough to hold the post.
That grin spread from his mouth to his eyes, making her wonder if hed read that thought.
You look to me like you badly need a ride.
Where had that thought come from?
She wished she had the guts to throw him the same grin he had given her earlier. But no, this was how she was, clumsy with men, which made her grumpy and defensive. She might be heavily into studying the sixties for the ad campaign, but it would never occur to her to embrace the concept of free love. And from what shed seen to date nothing about love was free, Magenta reflected as the biker continued to study her with amused interest.
I thought I might come back and see if you still needed rescuing.
Not then and not now.
A man is programmed to play the white knightits built into the genes.
The only thing that was built into his jeans was a warning that she was out of her depth. I can look after myself, thank you.
And so you prove this by standing out here, freezing your butt off?
Just the mention of her butt caused her body to heat. I havent been standing outside all this time. And, anyway, Im going home now.
And how do you intend to do that?
On the underground, or in a cab.
Youll be lucky.
Meaning?
Delays on the line; buses bulging at the seams. And theres not a taxi to found. Not a free one, at least.
She tried not to notice how beautiful the bikers eyes were. They were aquamarine with steely grey rims around the iris, the whites very white and his lashes completely wasted on a man. While his tongue was firmly lodged in his cheek, Magenta suspected. What are you? she demanded. Some sort of information clerk for the city of London?
Just observant. Have you worked up the courage to take a ride with me yet?
Unfortunately, he was right. She could stay here and freeze or she could take her chances with public transport. But hadnt she been lectured on the dangers of taking life too seriously? Shouldnt she at least consider the bikers offer?
Absolutely not.
She turned her back, only to find herself checking the road for black ice. The mystery biker might be the most infuriating, the most arrogant, overbearing and impossible man shed ever met, but the thought of finding him mashed up in a gutter made her heart race with fear for him. Take careits slippery, she mumbled and, putting her head down, she marched towards the exit.
Wheeling his bike in front of her, he stopped dead.
What are you doing? Magenta demanded.
I dont take no for an answer. His eyes glinted with laughter.
I can see that. Does everything amuse you? she demanded, stepping round his bike.
You make me smile.
She kept on walking, but as she dragged her jacket a little closer it occurred to Magenta that she was perhaps being a little ungracious. If youre looking for someone
The bikers eyes glinted.
Im just trying to say, if I can help you in any way
Get on the bike.
No! Yes. What should she do? She had been fascinated by the beacon of freedom women lit in the sixties and talked a good battle when it came to championing the causebut did she ever seize the moment and take action? Or did she always play it safe?
Too damn safe. Helmet?
The biker produced a spare and then patted the seat behind him.
Youre very sure of yourself, arent you? she commented as she buckled it on.
Sure of you. You cant resist a challenge, can you?
And how do you know that?
He shrugged.
The helmet seems like it might fit
Then climb on board.
The husky voice suggested a chastity belt might be a useful piece of kit too.
Before I change my mind He revved the engine.
Are you always so forceful?
Yes.
The master of the one word answer drowned out the demented timpanist in charge of her heart by taking the revs up to danger level. And now she took a proper look at his monster machine she wasnt even sure she could climb on board, as the biker put it. Did her legs even stretch that wide?
Chicken? The smile was masculine and mocking.
I am not. She played for time. Thats a Royal Enfield, isnt it?
You know motorbikes?
Her attention flew to a very sexy mouth. I know the brand, thanks to my research into the sixties, she said primly. She might have known someone as cool as the biker wouldnt ride a pimped-up, over-hyped modern machine. The Enfield was a serious motorbike for serious riders. Big and black, it was vibrating insistently between his leather-clad thighs.
And would soon be vibrating between hers.
No way was she climbing on board.
And she was getting homehow?
Call a cab, the sensible side of her brain suggested. There had to be an empty cab somewhere in the whole of London.
You are chicken, the biker insisted, slanting an amused glance Magentas way.
She laughed dismissively, longing for a way out. But shed done sensible all her life, and look where that had got her.
Well?
Forbidden fruit sprang to mind when she looked at himfruit that was so close, so ripe and so dangerously delicious, she could practically taste it on her tongue. How do I know Ill be safe with you?
You dont.
Her pulse raced. But then, she reasoned, it was only a lift homewhy the fuss? Shouldnt you know my address before we set off?
So, tell me.
She found herself doing so even as she wondered how his strong white teeth would feel if he used them to lightly nip her skin.
Its time to get on the bike, he prompted. Ive no intention of running out of fuel while I wait for you to make up your mind.
Could you take my briefcase and stow it for me, please?
My pleasure, maam. He held out his hand.
I suppose I should thank you, she added belatedly.
I suppose you should, he agreed.
If youre sure its not out of your way?
Im sure.
This man would be equally certain about every decision he made. Hed be just as decisive when he left her standing here freezing her butt off, as hed so elegantly put it, on the basis of her extreme cowardice.
Would you like some help? he said, looking on in bemusement as she started hopping into position.
All she had to do was throw one leg across his seat. How hard could that be? Im fine, thank you.
After one final heave and a lot of unladylike wriggling, she was finally in positionwhich meant close up to the biker. She tried to shuffle back a bit to maintain the proprieties, but the moment he kicked the stand away, released the brake and gunned the engine she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms as tightly as she could around his waist.
A waist without an ounce of fat on it, Magenta registered, but an awful lot of muscle, and if there was a way to ride pillion behind the biker without allowing her body to mould with histhankfully, it had escaped her.
By the time they joined the heavy London traffic, she was pretty familiar with the bikers back and the way his thick hair escaped the helmet to caress the collar on his jacket. She was so familiar she had even started shiveringwith cold, Magenta told herself firmly. Having consigned her safety to the hands of a man she hardly knew, that was more than enough risk to take in one day.
He really knew how to handle a bike and wove in and out of the congested streets of London like a man who really knew what he was doing, while Magenta was increasingly conscious of the insistent vibrations beneath her. It was almost a disappointment when they rolled up outside her neatly manicured town house. Dismounting the bike shakily, she removed her helmet and shook out her long, black hair.
Thats quite a transformation, lady, the biker commented as he lifted off his helmet to stare at her.
You think so? Magenta laughed as she retrieved her clip as it fell to the ground. She couldnt remember feeling so carefree in a long time. Her hair had been blown to blazes, like the rest of herand it felt great. She felt great. Thanks.
My pleasure. His face creased in the now-familiar grin.
Did she imagine the curtains in nearby houses were twitching? For once she didnt care what anyone thought. So she had ridden home on the bike of a tough-looking guy, ditching the power suit and the high-heeled shoes along the way. Short of stripping naked and leaping on top of him in the middle of the street, she was committing no crime.
Coffee? she said, still in the throws of enthusiasm. It seemed only polite. And when would an opportunity like this come round again?
The mans laser gaze was every bit as astonishing as she remembered; she was sure he was going to say, why not? But what he actually said was, I should get back.
Of course What was she thinking?
Where overtures towards good-looking guys were concerned, she was somewhat out of practice, Magenta conceded. But, as this wasnt an overturenot even closebut merely a polite invitation to enjoy a hot drink before making a return journey in the cold, she had nothing to worry about, did she? Genuine Blue Mountain coffee.
You make it hard to refuse, he admitted, slanting a smoky grey-green stare her way.
Impossible, hopefully. Having tasted danger, she wanted more. So? she pressed. Pulling out the house keys, she dangled them in front of him.
I have to get back.
Of course he did. Another time, she said brightly, swallowing down her disappointment. Youve done more than enough for me already. Goodness knows how far youve come out of your way.
Not far.
Tess would be furious with her; she didnt even know his name. But she couldnt hold him here while she cross-questioned him without inviting further humiliation. Its been good meeting you.
And you. He grinned.
By the time she had lifted her hand to wave him off, hed gone.
CHAPTER FOUR
WHY did her house seem so quiet and empty, when it never had before?
Because of the biker, Magenta concluded. With his larger than life personality, he didnt even need to speak to command attention; he just had to be.
Having changed her clothes, and kicked off her shoes with relief, she picked the mail up and headed for the kitchen. The phone stopped her dead. She picked it up.
Magenta Steele? The voice was crisp, deep and very masculine. Gray Quinn here.
Magentas heart rolled over. Gray
Most people call me Quinn. There was a hint of a smile in the voice, but not enough to reassure. Im in the office tying up some loose ends. Id like to see you for a discussion on your position going forward with the company first thing tomorrow morning.
But my father said
Your father doesnt head up Steele Design now. I do. Nine oclock okay with you?
Of course A chill ran through her. Quinn might be a sexy charmer, according to office gossip, but shed just encountered the Genghis Khan side of him.
Ill see you tomorrow, Magentanine oclock sharp.
And it wasnt a suggestion but an order, Magenta gathered as the line cut.
Coffee was needed. The temptation to go straight back to the office to gauge the effect Quinn was having on everyone else was almost impossible to resist. She was worried about her colleagues and felt uncomfortable leaving them.
Plus she had work she could do better at the office, she persuaded herself, and if she got through enough of it her team could have more time off for Christmas shopping. She would get Tess to ring her when the coast was clear.
Now the decision was made, she was all fired up. Forget taking a subtle approach where Quinn was concerned; if she waited until he was bedded in, as her father had suggested, it might be too late to save her friends jobs. Abandoning the idea of coffee, she ran upstairs to take a shower and freshen up.
Now new doubts set in. Even if Tess rung her when Quinn left the office, there was still the possibility he might return and find her there. The thought of meeting him filled Magenta with excitement, but it also filled her with the type of self-doubt that had always plagued her where men were concerned. She would need a lot more than a freshen-up before she ran into Quinna full-body overhaul was called for.
Guided by the horribly honest mirrors in her bathroom, it soon became apparent that she was up against the clock in more ways than one. She would just have to make whatever repairs she could in the short time available.
Collecting up the sixties products she had been hoarding to fuel her imagination for the campaign, she rested the plastic crate on top of the linen basket and started rummaging inside. A queen-sized razor; not a bad place to start.
And what was this? Myriad sparkles of dewy fragrance will embrace your body in a haze of desire at just the touch of a button
A love potion? Well, she could certainly do with some of that.
But after her shower, she decided, stepping beneath the steaming spray.
She had a whole range of retro products in the shower too. She had definitely been infected by the sixties bug. Magenta smiled wryly as she soaped down and thought about Quinn. What would he be like?
That was the only excuse her imagination needed to go crazy. There was only one thing that could make this self-indulgent shower any better, and that was sharing it with Quinnnot that she would; not in the real world. She was better off sticking to work and researching the sixties.
Soap-on-a-rope, come here to me, Magenta crooned, capturing the hippopotamus-shaped soap currently swinging on a cord from her shower head.
She glanced through the open door towards her bed, realising how tired she was. The temptation was to just fall into bed after her shower and dream about Quinn, put a face to that grainy back-view in the magazine Perhaps shed wake up to discover she had a really big share-holding in the businesspower and some cards to play.
But that wasnt going to happen
Turning her face up to the spray, Magenta knew she would have to take a more conventional route by producing some of her best work and by working her thermal socks off.
Turning the shower off, she grabbed a couple of towels and returned to the bedroom, where a spear of inspiration struck. Why not go the whole hog and dress in sixties clothes? Quite a few of her colleagues had already adopted the fashions and the look, so why not join them?
They always banded together at this time of year and had such fundecorating the office, sneaking out for warm, full-fat mince pies with thick globs of cream on topand this year the sixties vibe was adding a special frisson to the holiday celebrations.
She was drying her hair absent-mindedly with a towel as she started flicking through her wardrobe. Like everyone else in the creative team, she had been scouring the vintage shops for examples of sixties clothing, and had struck gold with a form-fitting cream wool dress. Sliding it off the hanger, she laid it on the bed.
Suppliers had rushed to offer samples of their retro products when Magenta had let it be known that she would be running a high-profile campaign, so she had plenty of accessories to choose from. Fortunately, it hadnt been all mini-skirts and hot-pants in the sixties. There had been the hippies in their flowing, get-em-off-quick clothes, the shock-frock dolly-birds in mini-skirts, as well as a more elegant side to the era. This was where Magenta felt comfortablethough it was the underwear she was supposed to wear beneath these stylish clothes that made her laugh. Break out of your little-girl body when youre feeling in a big-girl mood, ran the legend on one pack of matching bra and girdle.
Well, she wasnt a little girl, but she was definitely in a biggirl mood, Magenta decided, conjuring up a vision of Quinn as she broke the seal on the packaging.
It was almost impossible not to think about the new owner of the business, Magenta realised, opening the towel she had wrapped around her body to give her twenty-eight-year-old figure a critical review. She was sitting on the bed facing the dressing-table mirror and she sat up straight immediately. Would he like real women with real bellies, or would his tastes run to something younger and slimmer? Not that she could do much about it in the short time at her disposal. And why worry when her naked body was in zero danger of becoming an issue between them?
She picked up another pack and studied it. What do you wear under your action-wear? Action Underwear, of course
But there wasnt going to be any action.
She put it down, picking up something called the Concentrate girdle.
Concentrate on what? Holding her stomach in the whole time?
I dont think so.
And she certainly didnt need the Little Fibber braone of the only benefits of getting a little older and a little rounder, Magenta thought dryly, tossing the formidable-looking steel-girder-style bra to one side. Strange to think the so-called liberated women of the twenty-first century made so little of her breasts. Breasts were never flaunted at the office in case you were thought of as brainless, as if having lactating glands in common with a cow meant you automatically shared the same IQ. Perhaps that was the reason she had never worn form-fitting clothes to the office before, though she doubted a man as focused on business as Quinn appeared to be would even notice.
She hunted for some sheer tights in her drawer, only to discard them in favour of stockings. Underpinnings were everything, an actress friend had told herthose and shoes. If you didnt get that right, you stood no chance of playing a period piece convincingly.
She picked up another box and quickly disposed of it with an unwelcome shiver of arousal. Damsel in Undress was a definite no-no. The slightest hint to a man like Quinn that she was adopting a compliant men rule mindset to go along with her sixties outfit, and shed be in big trouble. Hed already given her a flavour of his management style. Gray Quinn definitely didnt need any encouragement. He was shaping up to be the original alpha-male. No, this was one occasion when she would be sixties on the outside and bang up to date in her head. But she would consent to wear a provocative cone-shaped bra to achieve the authentic hourglass shapenot forgetting control pants for the belly problem.
And a suspender-belt and stockings were fun.
Having dressed, she slipped on her stiletto heels and immediately felt different. She walked differently too. She tried a few steps up and down the bedroom and found herself sashaying like a famous actress in a hot sixties television programme. She smiled, thinking her actress friend had been right. The shoes and the clothes were like a costume that put her right back in the era, and that was fun.
It was even more fun when she started on the make-uppale foundation and big, smoky eyes outlined so that they appeared even larger. And some Un-lipstick, as it was called, in Shiver Shiver pink.
She certainly shivered as she tasted it. What would Quinn make of that?
Not that he would ever get a chance to find out, Magenta told herself firmly. This was all about dressing up and fantasy. Pressing her lips together, she blotted them in the manner prescribed on the pack and then applied a second coat.
Not bad.
She was ready.
Ready for pretty much anything, Magenta decided as she checked her appearance one last time in the mirror.
She waited for Tesss call and when it came she travelled to the office by taxi to find all the lights were out. Just as Tess had promised, there was no sign of Quinnexactly what she wanted. Well, it would be, once she had stifled her disappointment. All that effort put into grooming for nothing.
At least she could concentrate on work, Magenta told herself firmly. This was a great opportunity to put the finishing touches to the campaign. Having set out her papers on the large desk in her office, she slipped the lock on the door, feeling safer that way in an empty building. Shed make some coffee later to keep herself awake.
She was halfway through drafting a strap line for a sixties hairpiece when she had to stop. She could hardly keep her eyes open and just couldnt get it right: the hair fashion that goes on when you go out
And drops off when you least expect it to?
Magentaexamined the yard-long ponytail made out of synthetic hair and tossed it aside. Some of the products being used to inject fun into the campaign were odd, but this was downright ugly. Surely no self-respecting woman would want to wear a hair-tugger on top of her head that weighed a ton, looked gross and at a guess took a whole card of hair grips to hold in place? If you werent bald when you started your evening out, you certainly would be by the end of it.
And yet it was a genuine sixties product, Magenta mused, leaning her cheek against her folded arms as she stared at the unappealing hairpiece and waiting for inspiration to strike. Shed been so enthusiastic up to now, seeing only the good, the fun and the innovation of the sixties. But, realistically, how many other things about that time would have got right up her nose?
MagentaMagenta! Wake up!
Whats wrong? Magenta started with alarm as someone grabbed hold of her arm and shook her awake. Well dressed in sixties style, the girl looked smart and brightand totally unfamiliar. Magenta felt like she had the hangover from helland, not having had a drop to drink, that was a serious concern. How long have I been asleep? Her neck suddenly didnt seem strong enough to lift her ridiculously heavy head from the desk.
Magenta, you have to get out of here now.
Why? Is there a fire?
WorseQuinn, the girl explained with what sounded like panic in her voice. He mustnt find you here.
Why not? Magenta stared in bewilderment around her office, which seemed to have been cleared of all her creature comforts while shed been asleep. But it wasnt just the flowers, the coffee machine, the bottles of water or the family photographs that were missing. Hey, wheres my laptop? she said, shooting up. Has there been a robbery?
Magenta, I dont know what youre talking about, but I do know you have to get out of here now.
All right, all right! Magenta exclaimed as the girl took her by the arm and physically dragged her towards the door. Im sure I locked this door last night.
I used my key. The girl shook a spare set in her face.
Whats the rush? Ill need my mobile phone, and wheres my tote, my handbag, my briefcase? Magenta demanded, glancing back at the vastly changed room.
No more questions, her new friend hissed frantically, tugging at Magentas arm. We dont have time. Quinn will be here any minute.
A multitude of thoughts and impressions were slowly percolating through Magentas sluggish brain. This was a new girl, possibly someone Quinn had brought in. She seemed nice, though, confusingly, she seemed to know Magenta when Magenta was certain they had never met before. Did Quinn get my list? she said, clinging on to priorities while her brain sorted itself out.
What list? You didnt give me a list.
No, thats rightI gave it to Tess.
Tess?
This girl didnt know Tess? Sorry, uh
Nancy, the girl supplied, looking at her with real concern. Magenta, are you sure youre okay?
Yes, Im fine. This was growing stranger by the minute; if she hadnt felt so heavy-headed she would have been faster off the mark. I gave a list of the list of things Quinn should implement immediately to one of the girls in the office.
Nancy huffed. If you had given me a list like that, I would have seriously lost it on purpose.
Has Quinn been bullying you? She forgot her own con- fusion; bullying in the office was one thing she wouldnt stand, and Magentas concerns soared when Nancy refused to answer almost as if she was frightened of being overheard. Well, no ones going to bully you while Im aroundespecially not Quinn.
Nancy hummed and started tugging on Magentas arm again. Im not joking, Magenta, we have to get out of here.
But where do you want me to go? This had been Magentas office sincewell, she could hardly remember; it had been hers for so long now.
You work in the typing pool, remember? Nancy told her urgently, poking her head out of the door to check the coast was clear.
The typing pool? Magenta laughed. Is this some joke of Quinns to get us all in the right mood for the sixties campaign?
Nancy gave her a funny look.
To be more accurate, you used to work in the typing pool, she finally replied, nudging Magenta towards the door. The guy who ran the place before hotshot Quinn arrived from the States took his office manager with him, so Quinn promoted you.
Why didnt Quinn text me? And whats this? Magenta demanded as Nancy bundled her towards a mean little desk set to one side of her office doora door she now noticed with outrage that already bore the legend, Gray Quinn.
This is your desk now, Magenta, Nancy explained. Its a great improvement to the typing pool, dont you think?
Do you want to hear what I think? No. I didnt think so, Magenta agreed as Nancy shook her head. I dont know whats happening around here, but this isnt my deskand Quinn definitely cant take over my office.
But, Magenta, you used to work in the typing poolyouve never had your own office, Nancy insisted, looking increasingly concerned about Magentas state of mind. Dont you remember anything?
Magenta swept a hand across her eyes as if hoping everything would change back again by the time she opened them again. But, to make things worse, people she didnt even know were staring at her as if she was the one who was mad.
But how could this have happened? She gazed around and felt her anger rising. Quinn had to be some sort of monumental chauvinist; men occupied all the private offices while the women had been relegated to old-fashioned typewriterseither in the typing pool, where they sat in rows behind a partition as if they were at school, or at similar desks to this one outside the office doors. Ready to do their masters bidding, Magenta presumed angrily. She remembered her father telling her how it used to be for the majority of female office workers in the sixties. Why are all the girls typing? she asked Nancy in a heated whisper.
Its their job! Nancy said, frowning.
But why arent they working on the campaign? Magenta noticed now that many of the women, some of whose faces were adorned with heavy-framed, upswept spectacles, were pretending not to look at her.
What campaign? Nancy queried, stepping back as a keen teen brushed passed her.
Wow, Magenta, you look really choice!
I do? Magenta spun on her heels as the young man she had never seen before gave her a rather too comprehensive once-over. Why, thank you?
Jackson, Nancy supplied, having cottoned on to the fact that Magenta needed all the help she could get.
Jackson. Magenta raised a brow. Stop staring at your Auntie Magenta and go find yourself a girlfriend.
Jackson laughed as if Magenta could always be relied upon to say something funny. Youre a gas, baby.
Had Quinn changed all the personnel? Of course, he was perfectly entitled to, Magenta reasoned. Quinn ran the show now. But what had happened to her friends? And what had happened to their working environment?
So many questions stacked up in her mind, with not a single answer to one of them that made sense.
CHAPTER FIVE
LOOK, Magenta, I dont want to rush you, Nancy said in a way that clearly said that was exactly what she wanted to do. But Quinns only slipped out for an eleven oclock appointment.
So what? Magenta said impatiently. Hes got a damn nerve. She was still looking round, trying to take everything in. She could understand Quinn wanting to live the sixties in order to give the campaign that final fizz of authenticityhadnt she done the same thing herself? But didnt he know there was such a thing as going too far? Nancy, whats been going on here?
The usual? Following her glance, Nancy gazed around the office.
The usual, Magenta repeated grimly. Is it usual to remove the computers?
The what?
Okay, so Quinns got you playing his game, Magenta said. I can understand that you dont want to lose your jobIm just thinking of all the expense involved in putting this right again She had already reasoned that the reorganisation of the office would have been fairly easy if Quinn had copied the layout from the old photographs on the wall, but there were other things she couldnt account for. There was a different feel to the place, never mind the look, which was dated, a little drab and definitely not the right environment to encourage cutting-edge design work. She thought it boring, not to mention inhospitable. There were different phones too, but it was the ergonomically unhelpful furniture that really concerned herand single glazing? Had Quinn gone mad? Never mind the expense, what about condensation? Cold? If people were uncomfortable at work, productivity would suffer. Didnt Quinn know anything?
And there was a different smell too
Cigarette smoke?
Nancy! Magenta exclaimed with increased urgency.
Are you all right, Magenta? Glancing round, Nancy grabbed a chair and tried to press Magenta into it.
Im fine. She was anything but fine. What had happened here? Had Quinn got people in to dress the offices like a sixties stage-set? And how was it possible she had slept through those changes? But it wasnt just the noise element that concerned her; these changes were too thorough, too perfect, too convincing.
Magentas throat dried. This wasnt some office teambuilding exercise. This was reality. This was reality for Nancy and for all the people here. It was Magenta who was out of sync. She must have fallen down the rabbit hole, like Alice, while shed been asleep and landed in the sixties. And now the shock of being trapped inside a dream was only exceeded by her dread of meeting Quinn. From what shed gathered, he was just the sort of man who would slot right into the sixties, where men ruled. Quinn obviously thought they did.
Magenta took a few steadying breaths while Nancy looked on anxiously. Magentas heart was pounding uncontrollably, but whatever had happened she would have to manage it.
She looked as much a part of the sixties as everyone else in the office, Magenta reassured herself, with her carefully made-up face, perfect hair and vintage cream wool dress. Though you could have bounced bullets off her underwear, it did outline her shape to the point where her breasts were outrageously prominent. That, believe it or not, was the fashion. It could best be described as sex in your face. No wonder Jackson had commented; she should have known better than to dress like this, but had done so innocently. Back in the real world, it had made her feel sexyand after the encounter with the biker she had wanted to prove to herself that she still could feel that way. Now she realised drawing attention to herself in a sixties office was asking for trouble.
But, on the plus side, she had been researching the era for quite some time, so even locked into this bizarre dream she wasnt entirely out on a limb. She could even accept and be a little reassured by the fact that the dream seemed to be influenced by her research; there was certainly plenty of raw material here. Although quite how the summer of love, the sexual revolution and the Whisky a Go Go, the first disco in Americawhich just happened to be Quinns homelandwould manifest themselves remained to be seen.
She would have to rely on what she knew if she was going to anticipate and avoid some of the problems, Magenta concluded. She would draw on that knowledge nowand her first action would be to open all the windows and let the smoke out.
Predictably everyone complained that it was too cold. Well, you cant smoke in here, Magenta insisted. Its against the law.
Since when? one of the younger guys asked, swinging his arm around her waist to drag her close so she had no alternative but to inhale his foul-smelling breath.
And that is too, she informed him, removing his searching hand from her tightly sculpted rear end.
Ooh. He turned to his friends to pull a mocking face. What got into your bed this morning, Miss Steele?
No one? another man suggested, to raucous jeers.
We all know whats wrong with you, ice maiden.
Cut it out! Magenta said angrily. Im not in the mood.
Apparently, you never are, one of the men murmured to his colleagues in a stage whisper.
As if that were the cue for the main player to enter the scene, the double doors at the far end of the office swung open and every head swivelled in that direction. Some of the women even stood at their desks as if royalty was about to enter the room. To say Magenta was stunned by this reaction wouldnt even come close. What the?
Quinn, Nancy told her tensely, hurrying away.
Magenta turned to say something to Nancy, but everyone including Nancy had returned to work the second Quinn arrived. And Quinn didnt just arrivehe strode across the floor like a conquering hero. To make matters worse, all the women were giving him simpering glances when what he needed, in Magentas opinion, was a short, sharp, shock and someone to stand up to him. Whatever dream state they were both trapped in, this was getting out of hand.
But could this really be Quinn? Magentas head was reeling. Quinn in the sixties was none other than the gorgeous biker, in a jauntily angled Trilby hat and a dark overcoat that, instead of making him look silly, only succeeded in making him look like the master of the sexual universe.
Magenta, he said curtly, shrugging the coat off his shoulder and handing it to her along with his hat.
He knew her?
Thats a better look for you, he said, giving Magenta the most intrusive inspection yet. I like to see a woman in a dress with some shape to it.
What?
Keep it up, he said approvingly. And remember, I expect the same high standards from my staff at all times
Yes, sir, she said smartly, playing along, which was all she could doother than acknowledge Quinn was a beyond the pale chauvinistas well as the best-looking man she had ever seen in her life. With his tough-guy body clothed in a sharply tailored dark suit and impeccably knotted tie, he looked amazing.
Ill need you for a meeting later, he said, as though they had been working together for ever. There was not a shred of equality between them, Magenta registered with a spear of concern.
So no gossiping with the other girls in the kitchen when youre supposed to be making my coffee, Quinn warned.
Would that be the coffee with the extra-strong laxative in it? Magenta wondered.
And absolutely no lunch break for any of you girls. Youll have a lot of work to get through by the time I finish the meeting Im going into nowunderstood?
Actually, no, Im a bit confused. Magenta thought Quinn had called a meeting to discuss her position with the company going forward, but perhaps that directive hadnt made it through to the sixties. She decided to prompt him, if only to find out how much had travelled with her in the dream. So, youre having another meeting first?
What are you talking about? Quinn demanded impatiently.
Another meeting before our meeting?
Quinn had no worries about touching Magenta. Taking hold of her shoulder in a firm grip, he steered her into an alcove out of sight of the rest of the office. Not in front of everyone, Magenta And then his eyes warmed in a way that made her heart stop. Later, maybeif I have the time.
Magentas mouth formed a question, but she was so stunned by Quinns brazenly sexual behaviour her voice refused to function, and when she did speak it was only to ask Quinn what he wanted her to do with his hat and coat.
Why, hang it up, of course, he said as if she were one card short of a pack. And when youve done that Ill need plenty of coffeehot, strong and black. Oh, and when you come into the meeting later, dont forget your shorthand notebook.
My?
Youre the office manager now, Magentathats quite a promotion for you. Youll have to sharpen up if you want to set the seal on this position.
Shed set something in concretethe deeds of the building, perhaps, before she dropped them from a great height on Quinns head.
But someone else owned the building now, she remembered, biting her lip. Steele Design had been called Style Design when her father had bought it. She had no stake at all here.
.
.
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Susan Stephens
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Wanted in the bedroom… not the boardroom! Magenta knows having a new employer might be tricky. But she isn’t expecting the old-fashioned ruthlessness of Gray Quinn! However, plucky Magenta is up for the challenge, and tries to play the distractingly gorgeous Quinn at his own game…Quinn is no New Man: he wants temptingly innocent Magenta in his bedroom, not the boardroom. But he can make her no promises. He’ll give her the night of her life, but he might not be there when she wakes up… And he definitely doesn’t want her taking maternity leave!MEN WITHOUT MERCY Arrogant and proud, unashamedly male!