A Leap of Faith. Lenora Worth

comfortable with him for the moment. She’d sure had fun discussing work with him. Too much fun.

      “Weren’t you trying to trip me up?” he retorted, his winning smile almost winning her over.

      Almost. But not quite yet.

      “I just wanted to make sure you—”

      “You wanted to make sure I wouldn’t run your father’s company into the ground,” Campbell finished for her, his eyes glistening like diamond chips. “I can appreciate that.”

      “Wouldn’t want it any other way, right?” Autumn countered, enjoying the back and forth of their conversations. That should irritate her, but it didn’t. Not a good sign. That and the fact that Campbell Dupree was right on target with his financial savvy and his math skills. She couldn’t find anything else to nitpick about.

      “That’s right.” He leaned forward in his chair, his hands dropping over the stacks of clutter on his desk. The man obviously didn’t believe in organization. “I wouldn’t have taken this job if my only purpose was to do in Maxwell Financial Group, Autumn. That wouldn’t do me any good, now, would it?”

      She caught the hint of Cajun in his words. It was in the inflection, in the way his eyes gleamed, in the way he tilted his head to one side. Lethal. If this man really wanted to turn on the charm, she knew it would be killer.

      Why was he showing so much restraint around her? Well, she was the boss’s daughter. And he was minding his p’s and q’s, no doubt.

      “No, I guess you want to make money right along with the rest of us,” she said in answer to his question. “And you seem to be very good at your job.”

      “I try.”

      “Will my being here bother you?”

      He gave her a look that made her think he was already bothered with her being here. And then he confirmed that notion. “Most definitely.”

      “But you will behave and help me adjust, right?”

      “For sure.”

      “And we both agree that my father is still in charge, even if he spends more time on the golf course now than in the office?”

      “He’s the boss.”

      “And we both agree that we only want the best for our clients and their investments, right?”

      His eyes flirted while she spoke. “Absolutely.”

      “And we can be equal partners. No special privileges just because Richard Maxwell is my father. We’re a team.”

      “We are most definitely a team. I’m here to work for your father and our clients. I expect you to do the same.”

      “Good, then. I think I can work with you.” She prayed. She hoped. She’d have to be careful with that throwing-her-weight-around stuff.

      “I know I can work with you.”

      His confidence was inspiring.

      He stood up, reached out a hand. She took it and shook hands with him, very much aware of the warmth of his touch, of the firm, confident way he shook her hand. Very much aware of the way his eyes locked with hers in that bold, daring look. Campbell was willing to take her on, but she figured he was also willing to toy with her just a bit. Just to keep things interesting.

      “I’m glad we talked this out,” he finally said, letting go of her hand.

      Autumn felt warm and cold at the same time. Maybe this was a bad idea, after all. Just thinking about being here, day in and day out, with this man around, caused her to break out in hives.

      “Work,” she said, clearing her throat. “We have to focus on the work, Campbell. Not our own agendas.”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Are you listening?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      Autumn got up, then stood with her hands on the back of her chair. “Okay, you have to stop that.”

      He shrugged, shuffled some papers. “Stop what?”

      She touched a hand to her collar, moved her head around. “That…that thing you do with your eyes.”

      “It’s called looking.”

      “Well, you can’t look at me that way.”

      “What way is that?”

      “You know what way. I’m not one of your conquests, Campbell. I’m… We have to be serious, focused, determined.”

      “I am all of those things, I can assure you. And how do you know about my conquests?”

      “Just a calculated guess.”

      “Hmm.”

      She came around the chair and leaned across the desk, her knuckles turning white as she balanced her hands on the cool glass-covered surface. “Okay, here’s the deal. I am going to stay here in Atlanta for a few months and work here at Maxwell. Only because my father needs me to do so, and only because I lost my job in New York and it’s lonely there without April and Summer. And only until I can decide what to do next. You are going to respect me, and confer with me, and treat me as an equal partner in all matters concerning this business. I go by the book and I follow the rules. I hope that’s clear.”

      “Crystal.”

      “And while we’re discussing this—I don’t bring personal business to work, I work hard and I work late. And if you buy breakfast, you might need to know I like my coffee black and I like half a bagel with a little fruit on the side. I don’t date coworkers and I don’t like flirting in the workplace. Is that clear?”

      He got up, leaned his hands on the desk and brought his head down until they were face-to-face, nose to nose and eye to eye. “Very clear. Now let me tell you a few things about me and how I operate. I know how to make money for people. It’s a gift that I will never take for granted. I admire and respect your father, so you can rest easy that I will always put this company’s best interests first. I like to come in early and work late, but I also sometimes like to take long rides on my Harley, just to clear my head.”

      “I assume you pay exorbitant insurance rates on that thing?”

      “That and my Corvette, but I’ve got the funds to cover it and I enjoy my toys.”

      “Suit yourself. What else do you want to tell me?”

      He thought about it for a minute, as if there was so much more he had to say. “I like new experiences, and I like getting to know other people. I like my coffee heavy with cream, and I have a sweet tooth the size of this state. I don’t eat liver, but I do like gumbo made with duck or turkey, even though seafood gumbo is my favorite.”

      She grinned. “Well, who doesn’t like gumbo? Go on.”

      Campbell grinned right back. “So this is Campbell Dupree 101?”

      “I’m learning a lot. Keep spilling it, Dupree.”

      “You might not like what you hear.”

      “I told you, I like to know things. I need proof.”

      He gazed over at her, that challenge in his eyes again. “Okay, I have a weakness for King Cake and pralines, but I work off things like that by getting out and living a little, staying active. So don’t panic if I don’t jump when you say jump, or if it seems as if I’m not working when I really am.” He tapped a finger to his forehead. “I don’t always go by the book, but it’s always on, inside my brain.”

      “Is that it?”

      He nodded, still too close. “Oh, there is one other thing.”

      She breathed in the scent of something fresh and clean. His shampoo or soap, and maybe a little strawberry. “What?”