Seven Day Seduction (2 page)

Louise smiled her thanks, and headed over to
the couch. It was low set, looked like the kind of seat that once
in, you’d have trouble getting out of, but it was a better bet than
the bean bags.

Should have worn pants, Louise thought as
she lowered herself onto the couch. The pencil skirt might look
smarter, matching her suit jacket, and giving her an air of
efficiency, but it was a nightmare to maneuver around in.

Those extra pounds don’t
help…
Louise frowned a little as that
thought struck, because God knew it was true. Only this morning
she’d struggled a little—okay a lot—to get the zipper of her skirt
shut. William, her fiancé, had gently suggested that she might need
to think about a diet of some sort if she wanted to keep wearing
her skirts.

Louise’s frown deepened,
and she shifted on the couch, trying not to fall into it as she did
so. Part of her had wanted to give William a slap for that
suggestion
. The other
part, the analytical part of her, knew that he was right. It was
the stress that caused her to comfort eat. The stress of the
upcoming wedding, the worries about the business…

Hardly William’s fault that she was scoffing
one too many cinnamon buns, and wasn’t he just as stressed? Even
now he too was out chasing business to keep the firm they both
worked at afloat. In fact, they had tossed a coin to see who would
go for each job. Heads and she had won the Jacobs pitch.

She hoped to God she didn’t let them
down.

***

“Jude, there’s a Louise Marlowe here to see
you.”

Jude stepped away from the
window, and absently ran his hand through his hair. So Miss Prim
and Proper had a name?
Louise.
He tested it out on his tongue, and smiled slowly.
“Louise Marlowe?”

“Blonde hair, killer pencil skirt, really
pretty in a Miss Moneypenny kind of way.”

“Is she a sales person?” Jude asked. “Office
supplies or something like that? It’d explain the briefcase.” He
nodded. “Might as well send her in.”

Ginny frowned and narrowed her eyes at him.
“You hate sales people. You tell me to turn the water hose on
them.”

Jude grinned. “Not when they look like
that.”

His best engineer laughed. “Seriously,
Jude?”

He held up his hands. “Couldn’t help but see
her through the window, negotiating the death strip.”

“You really need to sort that path out,”
Ginny said with a sigh. “It’s mean of you to leave it there to trap
our visitors.”

“Helps me understand their brain,” Jude
said. “Do they jump? Do they try and edge round? It’s
interesting.”

“What did Louise do?” Ginny asked.

Jude grinned some more. “She jumped.”

“Then she’s won at least a half hour pitch
with you I think,” Ginny said. “Jumping in that skirt would have
been no easy matter. Just don’t moan at me when Marianne gets back,
and finds you in with a saleswoman when you should be preparing for
your meeting with the analyst.”

The analyst….
Jude stepped over to his desk, and ran a thumb
over his mouse pad. His screen unlocked allowing him to click open
his diary. Usually Marianne dealt with his appointments, but for
some reason his PA had decided to take a long lunch break. She’d
informed him when she left at twelve that she’d be back by two,
maybe three. He’d been so absorbed in his project he’d simply
nodded. Hell, even if he hadn’t been absorbed he’d still have
nodded. Marianne was a law unto herself.

“The analyst is coming today?” he asked.
“Half one? I’d forgotten all about that.”

“You always forget your appointments when
you’re deep in a project.” Ginny pointed at the whiteboard hooked
up to his Mac. “Which is why you need Marianne. But look, we need
this data working through ASAP. I have to have it before I can
start phase two of the project. It’s no good me designing you a new
system when we don’t have the market intelligence.”

“I don’t know why you couldn’t have found
the time to do it,” Jude grumbled. “I pay you enough.”

“It’s not my sort of data,” Ginny said with
a shrug. “Stats math, not mechanical. Besides, I do have a life you
know. You don’t pay me anywhere near enough to spend night after
night here.”

“Fine, fine.” He waved a hand. “Send Louise
Marlowe in. I’ll give her fifteen minutes—that’ll leave me enough
time to prep for the meeting. Who is PSO sending?” he asked,
referring to the firm of analysts who were bidding for the
work.

“I’m not sure,” Ginny said. “Their best
analyst I guess. They wouldn’t dare send anyone else with a project
like this.”

“Let’s hope not.”

She left his office, her
tiny skirt swaying around her thighs as she did so. Jude sighed.
When he’d implemented his,
wear what you
like to work
policy, he’d expected the
women on his work force to keep some semblance of professionalism.
Jeans, tees, even sweaters—like the men. But no, they seemed to
take some sort of perverse pleasure in dressing in as little as
possible. Jude knew they were waiting for him to revoke the policy,
seeing how far they could push, but he was standing his ground. The
hell he would be beaten by the female half of his crew.

Not until they started wearing bikinis at
least.

But then office wear could be just as
provocative couldn’t it? Jude took a deep breath, and sat on the
edge of his desk, watching the door, waiting for the moment Louise
Marlowe stepped through. He wondered what she looked like close up.
His office windows were coated in a layer of grime—a purposeful
mover on his part to keep prying eyes out—so he hadn’t been able to
see the fine details. But if the face was anything like the ass…he
grinned, and then the door opened.

***

Louise thought she was nervous when she woke
up and struggled into her skirt. She’d thought she was nervous when
her boss, head of PSO, had reiterated to her just how important a
potential client Jude Jacobs was. Her stomach had flipped as she’d
made the drive out to Jude’s building, and then flipped some more
as she arrived.

But all of that, those
initial nerves, those first butterflies, they were
nothing
compared to how
she felt as she walked into Jude Jacobs’ office, and saw him for
the very first time.

Nothing.

He was seated on the edge
of his ridiculously long desk, a considering sort of look on his
face...
his very, very handsome
face.

Should have Googled his picture, Louise
thought as shock practically slapped her, then at least you’d have
been prepared. Because Jude Jacobs was, quite simply, the most
attractive man she had ever seen in her entire life.

His hair was fair like hers, cut close to
his head, giving him almost a military look. His eyes were blue, a
ridiculously piercing color, and his size…

She took a stumbling step forward, even
though she wanted to take one back. He was huge! Brawny shoulders,
wide chest, long legs…

“Miss Marlowe I believe?”

His voice was low, husky, the sort of voice
that suggested all kinds of unmentionable things. The voice, the
looks…it was all too much, Louise was overwhelmed in a way that
made absolutely no sense…and then he stood up.

She titled her head, then
titled it some more. He had to have at least a foot and half on
her, she barely reached his chest!
Good
lord.

Louise switched her briefcase from one hand
to the other, shifted a little, and clamped her lips shut—trying
desperately to grab at some sort of control, to understand why he,
a man she had only just met, was affecting her in such a way.

A moment later and Louise realized he was
looking at her expectantly. Of course, he was waiting for an answer
to his question! She flushed, and took another shaky step
forward.

“Yes, I’m Louise Marlowe,” she said, though
how the words made it out of her tight throat she had no idea.

“Are you hot?”

She gaped. “Excuse me?”

“You’re bright red,” Jude Jacobs said.

Louise wanted the floor to
open up and swallow her, immediately! Her flush deepened, and her
stomach flipped. “It’s a little hot, yes,” she agreed, anything to
stop him realizing exactly
why
she was heating up.

“The a/c is on the fritz,” he added, taking
a step forward. “I have a roomful of engineers and inventors out
there.” He took another step. “You’d think one of them could fix
the damn thing.”

“Erm….”

“They’re too busy in the warehouse working
on their pet projects.” He shook his head at her puzzled look.
“Monday is work on whatever takes your fancy day,” he said.

Louise realized her mouth was hanging open.
“You let your staff do whatever they like on a Monday?”

Jude grinned. “Sure do. Some of our best
products have come about that way. Everyone who works for me gets a
day a week to try new things.” He grinned some more. “I always
encourage experimentation.”

His words were innocent
enough, so why the hell did Louise feel as if they held a hidden
meaning? She swallowed nervously, and tightened her grip on her
briefcase. It was time to try and bring the conversation under
control, the conversation
and
herself!

“I wanted to thank you for seeing me today,
Mr. Jacobs,” she began, annoyed beyond belief when her voice came
out all sort of husky.

He waved her words away. “It’s Jude. We’re
informal here.”

She tried to clear her throat as covertly as
possible. “Jude then.”

“And may I call you Louise?”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Then tell me what I can do for you,
Louise,” he asked, gesturing to the two overly large chairs off to
the corner of his desk. Chairs that were spaced very closely
together.

Louise followed him over, and took the
green, he took the blue. She perched herself on the very edge, left
hand still clutched around her briefcase, ankles crossed, her
posture rigid. She couldn’t help it. She felt…weird. Was there even
another word?

Jude smiled at her encouragingly. His eyes
twinkled when he smiled, she thought inanely, and had to give
herself an inward sake. “You received my resume?” she asked, her
voice doing the husky thing again.

He leaned forward. The
action took away the scant space between them. Louise moved back
automatically, her breath catching in her throat. A small
smattering of blonde stubble coated his square jaw. His lips were
ever so slightly parted, curving into a heart pounding
smile…
Oh God!

“
Your resume?” he
asked.

She nodded, tearing her
gaze away from those lips, and looking at a spot a couple of inches
left from his face.
Get a grip of
yourself, Louise!

“PSO should have sent it over with my
background check,” she said slowly, heart thumping. “Also the
signed non-disclosure agreement.”

“Hold on a moment here, you’re not a
saleswoman?”

Louise risked a glance at
him, saw the frown there and shook her head.
Saleswoman?
“Of course not,” she
said. “I’m the analyst.”

***

It took a moment for Jude to get his head
around what Louise was saying. Not because it was difficult in any
way, but because he was having extreme trouble deciding which bit
of her he liked best. Her ridiculously pretty face? Those amazingly
curvy hips and shapely thighs? Or maybe the breasts…

God, they were perfect.

Jude clenched his fists and tried to order
his thoughts. He wasn’t a school boy for fucks sake, they were just
breasts! But, hell, it had to be the fact that she had them so
covered up. Her shirt was buttoned all the way to her throat, and
her suit jacket was buttoned over that. Even so he could make out
their outline easily enough, and wanted nothing more than to push
her back on the chair, take either side of that prim and proper
shirt, and tear it lengthways.

He couldn’t help but imagine them falling
into his palms, soft and heavy. His dick thickened, and Jude
gritted his teeth, shifting position.

“The analyst?” he asked.

She nodded. Jude couldn’t help noticing that
her gaze would not meet his. In fact, she was looking at a random
spot to the side of him, her face still bright red.

“From PSO,” she said.

“You’re the analyst?” he asked, feeling like
an idiot repeating himself, but needing to be sure.

“I am.”

And that meant… Jude frowned and jumped out
of his chair. Louise scooted back, her lips falling open slightly.
She was breathing heavily he realized, her chest rising and falling
in a rapid motion. She was also swallowing convulsively, her
delicate throat working over and over.

It was then, as Jude looked down at her, and
she up at him, that it all clicked into place.

Louise Marlowe was as attracted to him as he
was to her. The blushes, the stumbling steps, the dazed sort of
look in her eyes. She may try to hide it, but Jude could see it,
feel it.

Desire, thick and throbbing, and
unbelievably intense.

Christ, he wanted her, and he would have her
he decided. There was absolutely no question of that, and what
better way to give himself the opportunity than to hire her?

***

“I wasn’t expecting you until half one,”
Jude said, making his way around to his laptop.

Louise took a deep breath, grateful for the
distance now between them. Her heart was thudding, her stomach
somewhere down by her knees, and she felt ever so slightly faint.
She couldn’t work out what was happening, none of it made
sense.