The Ceo's Little Surprise. Kat Cantrell

in another sharp suit with a microskirt, this time in eye-popping candy pink, and she’d swept up her hair into another severe bun-like thing held by lacquered chopsticks that he immediately wanted to take apart. Why was that so hot?

      He dredged up a memory of her old look from college, which had largely consisted of yoga pants and hoodies, and he’d liked that, too. But this was something else. Something elemental. He wanted to explore this new Cass in the worst way.

      “Good morning, Mr. Branson,” she said, though the frost in her tone told him she thought it was anything but. “This way.”

      The chilly greeting and use of his last name put a grin on his face. So she planned to cross swords after all. Excellent.

      This time, he didn’t even hesitate at the door of her office. No point in beating around the bush when the upper hand was still up for grabs. He waltzed into the middle of all that purple and plunked down into a chair. Happened to be the one behind the desk—Cass’s chair—but he figured that would be enough to get her into the room.

      It was. She followed him into the interior, and without batting an eye, she crossed to the desk and perched on it. Two feet from his chair. Gaze squarely on Gage, she crossed her stocking-clad legs with a slow and deliberate slide and let her stilettos dangle. The little skirt rode up her thighs almost to the point of indecency.

      His tongue went numb as all the blood rushed from his head, pooling into a spectacular hard-on. One tiny push with his heel and Cass’s chair would roll him into a proximity much better suited to enjoying the smorgasbord of delights inches away.

      This was his punishment for stealing her chair? She clearly didn’t get how corporate politics, particularly between competitors, worked.

      “Thanks for coming on short notice,” she purred and the subtle innuendo wasn’t lost on him.

      “Thanks for having me,” he returned and cleared the rasp from his throat. Maybe she knew a little more about this game than he’d supposed. “You ready to talk details?”

      “Sure, if you want to jump right into it.” She cocked her head, watching him. “The others don’t want to sell. But I’m willing to talk to them.”

      Instantly suspicious, he grinned and crossed his arms, leaning back in the chair so he could see all of her at once. She was something else. “Along with what strings?”

      “Oh, nothing much.” She waved a French-manicured hand airily and leaned forward, one palm on the desk. Her silky button-up shirt billowed a bit, just enough to draw his attention to her cleavage but not enough to actually show anything.

      The anticipation of catching a glimpse of skin had his mouth watering.

      “Name your price, Cass,” he murmured and wondered what she’d do if he pulled her off that desk into his lap. “I’m assuming one hundred million wasn’t enough?”

      “Not quite. You also have to help me catch the leak first.”

      His gaze snapped back up to her beautiful face as her meaning registered. “Help you catch the leak? You mean you haven’t already?”

      Unacceptable. Hadn’t she learned anything important from him? Yesterday he sure would have said so, but obviously she needed a few more pointers about how to run her business.

      “I have a plan,” she explained calmly. “And you’re it. Until the leak is stopped, Fyra can’t make a major decision like selling our formula. Surely you understand that.”

      He did. This was a wrinkle he hadn’t anticipated. But what she was proposing—it meant he’d have to stay in Dallas longer than he’d anticipated. He ran a successful company, too, and it was suffering from his lack of attention. If he stayed, he’d have to ship Arwen home, which she’d never forgive him for.

      “You should have already handled the leak,” he groused.

      “I know.”

      Her voice didn’t change. Her expression didn’t change. But something shifted as he realized how hard this conversation was for her. She hadn’t wanted to admit that.

      Disturbed at the sudden revelation, he stared at her and his heart thumped strangely. He’d been so busy examining the angles, he’d failed to see this was actually just a baseline plea for help that she’d disguised well.

      “Work with me, Gage. Together, like old times.”

      She wanted to pick up where they left off. Maybe in more ways than one. The simple phrases reached out and grabbed hold of his lungs. It echoed through his mind, his chest, and the thought pleased him. Enormously.

      It was a redo of college, where he was her mentor and she soaked it all up like a sponge with a side of hero worship that made him feel invincible. That had been a heady arrangement for a twenty-four-year-old. But they weren’t kids anymore.

      And he didn’t for a moment underestimate Cass. She’d suggested this for some reason he couldn’t figure out yet. Which didn’t keep him from contemplating that redo. Who was he kidding? He’d wanted her the moment he’d turned around in the parking lot yesterday and gotten an eyeful of grown-up Cass. If he hung around and helped her, it gave him an opportunity to get her naked again.

      And he could ensure the problem with the leak was handled like it should have been from the get-go. Not to mention he could dig a bit to uncover her real motives here.

      Her eyes huge and warm, she watched him and he was lost. Dang. She’d played this extremely well. There was absolutely no way he could say no. He didn’t want to say no.

      But a yes didn’t mean he’d do it without adding a few strings of his own.

      “I’ll help you. Until Sunday. I have a meeting Monday that can’t be rescheduled.”

      Her smile hit him crossways. And then it slipped from her face as he leaned forward oh-so-slowly. Mute, she stared at his hand as he braced it on the desk a millimeter from her thigh. He could slip a finger right under the hem of that tiny skirt. And his mind got busy on imagining where that would lead.

      “But you have to do something for me,” he murmured. He got as close to her as he dared, crowding her space where all the trappings of business melted away and they were simply man and woman.

      She smelled classy and expensive, and instantly he wanted that scent on his own skin, transferred by her body heat as she writhed under him. He could lean her back against that desk and at this angle, the pleasure would be intense. The image made him a little lightheaded as his erection intensified.

      “I already said I’d talk to the others about selling you the formula,” she said a touch breathlessly, but to her credit, she didn’t allow one single muscle twitch to give away whether she welcomed his nearness or preferred the distance. “If we catch the leak.”

      That ice-goddess routine needed to go, fast. That wasn’t going to happen here. Not under these circumstances. If he wanted to take things to the next level, he had to go bold or go home.

      “Yes, but you’re doing that because deep down, you know you owe me. If I help you find the leak, you owe me again. Turnabout, sweetheart.”

      “What do you want?”

      Oh, where should I start? “Nothing you can’t handle.”

      The knowing glint in her gaze said she already had a pretty good idea what gauntlet he was about to throw down. They stared at each other for a long moment and her breathing hitched as he reached out and slid a thumb along her jawline.

      “You have to take me to dinner.”