The Bachelor Boss. Julianna Morris

he wasn’t better with people. She wasn’t the only employee who avoided him; his cool direct gaze could cut right through a person.

      “A leopard can’t change his spots,” she muttered, not that he’d understand. Neil honestly didn’t seem to know he had the corporate persona of a runaway locomotive, mashing everyone in his path. Kane was indulging in wishful thinking if he thought his brother would listen to anyone on how to run the new division, much less to her.

      Maybe Neil was different with his family.

      Maybe.

      She was acquainted with two of his sisters, Shannon and Kathleen, and thought his mother was a lovely woman, but Neil was a puzzle beyond words.

      A small frown creased his forehead. “What is that supposed to mean?”

      “Oh, come on. Teamwork? You?”

      The note of amused disbelief in Libby’s voice irritated Neil. He knew it was his fault they didn’t get along—he’d acted like an oversexed jock on the one date they’d had years ago. A naive preacher’s daughter and a former college football star weren’t a good mix. People who thought that all preacher’s daughters were wild as sin didn’t know anything. Jeez, she was practically a nun.

      Yet he didn’t dislike Libby, he just didn’t think she was vice president material. She was too softhearted, an innocent with the cutthroat business sense of a newborn kitten.

      “You can’t know how I feel about teamwork,” he said slowly.

      “I have a pretty good idea.”

      His eyebrows shot upward. “I don’t think a single date gives you that much insight to my character. Especially since we’ve hardly said ‘boo’ to each other ever since.”

      It was the first time since that disastrous night the subject had been directly raised, and relief crept through him. They should have cleared the air a long time ago instead of just going their own way and avoiding contact.

      Hell, he probably wouldn’t have thought about it again if she hadn’t been so damned desirable…and so very prudish with her sexy little body. If he’d learned nothing else, it was that dating co-workers was a lousy idea.

      “Maybe, but it was instructive,” she snapped. Her green eyes were stormy and Neil restrained a grin. This was an interesting side to Libby; he wanted to see more. It was like watching the kitten discover she had claws.

      “That was a date, this is business,” he said.

      “I’ve heard about the way you work. And I saw it for myself when you were in the CEO’s office. You obviously have to be in control, no matter what.”

      “Isn’t that what we all want?” he asked.

      She made a disgusted gesture. “Not all of us have a fetish about it. You must be ready to chew nails over Kane making me a vice president.”

      Neil wasn’t thrilled, but he’d never admit it to Libby. And since he planned to make the New Developments division the most successful in the company, he would have to deal with her one way or another. Besides, it could be a lot of fun teasing that pink color into her cheeks.

      “Especially with me being a woman,” Libby added.

      “What?” He scowled, no longer amused. “I don’t have a problem with qualified women in business, so don’t put words into my mouth.”

      “Ah, but you don’t think I’m qualified.”

      “That remains to be seen. Your qualifications, that is,” Neil said, giving her a measuring glance. Libby certainly looked the part of a career woman…now. But the day they met she’d been wearing an unstructured sweater and skirt.

      That damned bulky sweater should have been his first clue, he thought irritably. It had practically screamed small-town innocent, but even the most sophisticated women had been wearing the down-home earthy look back then. If he’d known she was a naive virgin he would have stayed a thousand miles away.

      “I’m sure you’ll do a fine job,” he said, distracted by the memory. Or was it the memory of sweet curves that fitted perfectly against him?

      Damn. Where had that come from? Libby had a fine body—not that she did anything to advertise it—but he’d been with his share of gorgeous women. Willing women who didn’t have marriage and a baby carriage on the mind.

      “Marriage and a baby carriage? What do you mean by that?” Libby demanded.

      Neil winced, realizing he’d muttered the last part aloud. “Er…I was thinking about Kane,” he said. “He’s turned into a huge advocate of marriage and children ever since he met Beth.”

      “Is that so terrible?”

      “Depends on how you see it. I think it must be hard to keep your focus while at the same time dealing with a nagging spouse and kids.”

      “You mean a nagging wife. But for your information, not all wives nag,” Libby shot back, though she didn’t know why she bothered. Neil’s views on the incompatibility of marriage and business were infamous.

      “I just meant…” He shrugged. “Forget it. I guess marriage is all right for other people.”

      “Wow. Isn’t that big of you.”

      Neil looked surprised by her sarcastic tone, and to be honest, Libby was surprised herself. She’d never spoken her mind to him, not since that embarrassing night when she’d said all sorts of things about men who expected to sleep with a woman on the first date.

      She sighed, a hollow feeling in her tummy.

      Principles were fine things, but she was awfully tired of going home to a lonely house in the evening.

      “I’m not going to hold anything against an executive who wants to get married, if that’s what you think.”

      Libby rolled her eyes. “As if your brother would let you.”

      Neil regarded her curiously. “You think Kane and I are that different?”

      “Like night and day.”

      “Because he got married.”

      “No.” She shook her head in exasperation. “Because he’s nice, and you’re…” Libby stopped, realizing if she’d sounded rude before, it would be nothing to calling him a smug, self-centered chauvinist with the compassion of a fence post.

      Swallowing, she dropped into the chair behind her desk. He couldn’t seem to understand that the people who worked for O’Rourke Enterprises were people, not machines, with lives outside the company that were important to them.

      “I’m what?”

      The small twitch to Neil’s mouth suggested he had a good idea of what she’d almost called him. He sat on a chair himself and stretched out his legs. From head to toe he was the consummate executive—from his expensive suit to his ice-blue silk shirt and perfect tie. There was only one time she’d ever seen him in a less than immaculate state, and that was the night they’d almost…

      She put a hasty brake on her thoughts. Okay, Neil could be charming when he wanted something, and he’d come very close to getting what he’d once wanted from her. It didn’t mean anything.

      “Well?” he prompted. “What am I?”

      “You’re just…different.”

      “Different, as in ‘not nice.”’

      “I didn’t say that,” she said, annoyed.

      “You didn’t have to.” Neil told himself he should stop. This wasn’t the right way to start their new relationship as president and vice president, but he didn’t want to work with veiled hostility simmering between them—he’d take open warfare over that. For that matter, conflict could be very good for business.

      “You