Page 35 of The Merger
I step back and nod approvingly at my handiwork. Then I turn to Gannon. “Are you sure? You might want to use this table sometime.”
“If so, I’m sure we can move the plant to the floor.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Why are you here, exactly?”
I lift a brow. “Really?”
He leans back, a blasé look painting his features.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think Gannon Brewer didn’t like me. The man couldn’t look more apathetic if he tried. Lucky for me, I’ve had my fair share (or more) of encounters with sexy, powerful men who are used to being in control. Unfortunately for Gannon, I can see through him as easily as I can see downtown through his floor-to-ceiling windows.
“You don’t have to be mean anymore,” I say, teasing him.
“What are you talking about?”
I roll my eyes, leaning against a chair facing his desk. “Look, I’m not here to be your friend.”
“Oh, soyou dojust want me for my money.”
A grin lifts the side of his mouth, and it takes everything in me not to melt at his feet.
“If you’re offering alternative packages, I’d be happy to review them,” I say with a flirty smile.
His gaze darkens.
“But in lieu of those opportunities,” I say, “I’m here because Keisha asked me to swing by your office before I leave. She wanted to know if I was going on payroll as an employee or a subcontractor. I also don’t know how many days a week you want me to come.”
“How many days would you liketo come, Miss Johnson?”
A blast of heat curls in my stomach. “In a perfect world, I’dcomeevery day.”
He licks his bottom lip, grinning coyly.
“I could even come multiple times if that’s what you wanted.” My skin’s tingling as he undresses me with his eyes.
Gannon stands, running a hand down his chest to smoothen his tie. His jaw flexes beneath the sunlight streaming in through the windows. He’s tall, dark, and so freaking handsome—and he’s gluing me to my spot with nothing but a look.
Sweat dampens the back of my neck, and my breasts are heavy. Blood pumps through my body at double speed, and my lips fall apart to drag in cooler breaths of air.
“In this perfect world you speak of,” he says, his voice low and thick, “I’d have you coming every day. And I’d work you so hard that you’d beg to quit.”
“I think you underestimate me.”
“You’d go home sore,” he says, each word hanging in the air. “You’d be filthy and exhausted, wondering how in the hell you ever thought you could keep up.”
Each breath vibrates through my chest. Every exhale prickles the hair on the back of my head. I want to fire back, to hold my ground, but the way he pins me in place with his gaze steals the words from my tongue.
“Andthis, Miss Johnson, is why I didn’t want you to work here.”
I grin innocently up at him. “Why? Because you don’t want me getting dirty?”
“Because you’re trouble.”
He brushes against me on his way to the windows.
“I’mtrouble?” I laugh. “You were the one who started the innuendos. I was merely answering your questions.”
