Tori Carrington - Private Sessions

“Oh, my God, is that the time?” Bryna launched herself from her chair.

Troy blinked at her. “What, do you have an appointment?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, pulling on her suit jacket and buttoning the front. “Yes, I do.”

“May I ask with whom?”

She struck a pose. “With the hairdresser in Seattle. Would you like to attend, act as my wingman?”

He chuckled. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“You may want to rethink that. You could probably use a good spray tan.”

She discreetly stuffed the proposals into her briefcase and began to pass him.

“Very funny.”

“See you later, then.”

“Since it’s Tuesday, why don’t you just stay there? Come back on Sunday?”

Her usual schedule was to head to her small apartment in Seattle every Wednesday night, spend two days working from there, then return home to the Metaxas estate Sunday morning for brunch, starting the cycle over again.

“No, I’ll be coming back this afternoon,” she told him.

As Bryna headed toward the old steel stairs and the parking lot beyond the mill doors, she wasn’t sure which bothered her more: that she was nervous as hell, or that Troy hadn’t even thought twice about her leaving in the middle of the morning.

Just went to show you how much her cousin really thought of her and her work ethic.

She smiled to herself. If everything went the way she planned, that would all change soon enough….

TO THE VICTOR THE SPOILS….

Caleb knew who Bryna Metaxas was. She was related to the same man indirectly responsible for the collapse of his latest business deal. But given the fact that his position or personal wealth hadn’t been impacted, he was still the victor.

And she was very definitely the spoils. Because he had absolutely no interest in pursuing anything of a business nature with her.

They’d met once. During a meeting at Metaxas Limited. While Manolis Philippidis had droned on about a catch in the contract, Caleb had allowed himself to appreciate Bryna’s remarkable beauty. The type of looker who would be right at home sunning herself on one of Philippidis’s yachts, a white, barely there bikini playing up her physical assets, large sunglasses perched on her petite nose, her long, dark hair combed back while a formally clad waiter served her a dirty martini. He remembered thinking that she could easily challenge any of the goddesses her Greek ancestry boasted on the sexy meter. Why she would ever want to be associated with her loser cousins was an intriguing mystery to him. Especially since whatever ideas she’d proffered were immediately squashed by her cousin Troy, her thoughtful frown as he did so making her all the more appealing.

And she looked even better now, staring up at him with a wide smile.

Although for the record he’d prefer to see her in that barely there bikini rather than in the too-stern navy blue suit she had on.

He openly appreciated the pretty young woman who’d stormed his office after he’d made her wait for half an hour. She was a little on the young side. He was maybe a decade her senior. But if his recent experiences had taught him anything, it was that seeing women closer to his own age came with baggage he was no longer interested in carrying. Biological clocks and measuring sticks were tucked in their designer handbags, always nearby, always dictating their actions.

Bryna was young and had yet to hear the distant ticking. And her handbag of choice appeared to be a briefcase.

The fact that she was a member of the Metaxas family added a certain illicit appeal to her attraction quotient. It had been Ari Metaxas who sank one of his prized deals. Oh, not the business proposal that bit the dust with Philippidis’s marriage plans. But the contract Caleb had been working on for two years with a Dubai company that would have resulted in one of the largest conglomerates currently operating today.

The same contract that Philippidis’s single-minded lust for revenge against Metaxas and his unfaithful bride had mucked up beyond repair.

“Thanks for taking my appointment,” Bryna said, moving her briefcase from one hand to the other and then extending her right.

“No problem.” Was her skin really that soft? Caleb shamelessly held on to the feminine digits, rubbing his thumb slowly along the back.

He watched her pupils grow large in her dark green irises at the unabashed liberty he took. But rather than immediately try to pull away, she held his gaze, allowing the fiery spark that ignited between them to flare, running from her skin over to his. The heat sped downward and settled pleasantly in his groin.

He allowed himself a moment to imagine removing that barely there bikini in his fantasy to leave her fully bare …

Bryna cleared her throat and slowly withdrew her hand, taking the sexy image with her.

“I have three proposals I’d like to submit to you,” she said, sitting in one of the two high-backed visitor’s chairs and putting her case down at her crossed ankles. Slender, shapely ankles that drew his attention. She took documents out of her briefcase and held them out to him.

He made no move to take them. Instead, he permitted his gaze to rake up her calves to where the hem of her skirt had hiked up to just above her pleasing knees.

Bryna placed the proposals on the desk he stood next to.

“I’m sure that once you’ve had a chance to review them, you’ll see that a partnership with Metaxas Limited would be in everyone’s best interest.”

Having her open her knees a little wider would be in his best interest. Would she be wearing plain white panties, he wondered. Black? Red? Or would she surprise him by going commando?

The idea nudged his temperature gauge up more than a few notches.

He lifted his telltale gaze back to her face. “Does Troy know you’re here?”

He’d met both brothers on several occasions, but he’d gotten the distinct impression that the elder was in charge of all business dealings. And a control freak. Much like he, himself, was.

He was intrigued by the way Bryna avoided his gaze.

If he were to guess, he’d say that no one was aware that she was there.

Caleb knew himself well enough to recognize his growing attraction to the young woman sitting in his visitor’s chair. And judging by her reaction when they’d touched, he knew it would be all too easy to draw her into a sexual liaison. A few carefully placed caresses, whispered words, and she’d melt like butter on his toast.

The telecom buzzed.

His secretary. He’d instructed her to interrupt the meeting at minute five.

The problem lay in that he wasn’t all too sure he wanted to end his time with Bryna Metaxas.

“Excuse me,” he said.

“Sure. Go ahead.”

He picked up the phone and listened for a moment, his gaze roving hungrily over Bryna’s soft curves, before hanging up.

“I’m sorry,” he said, going for feigned reluctance and surprised to actually be feeling it. “But there appears to be an overseas call I really must take.”

She twisted lips that were full and lush and made for a man’s kiss. “Of course.” She got up from the chair. “I’m grateful for the time you’ve extended me. Just give my office a call when you’ve had a chance to review the proposals so we can set up another meeting.” She began to turn away, then lifted a finger and swiveled back. Her mouth was slightly open, as if prepared to say something, but his expression—which he was sure revealed his naked interest in her—must have caused her to hesitate.

Her pink tongue darted out and moistened those provocative lips.

“Actually,” she said quietly, then cleared her throat, “I’ll, um, call you.”