The CEO's Little Surprise
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Kat Cantrell
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By the time Gage Branson’s tires hit the Dallas city limits, Arwen had started howling along with the radio. Not for the first time since leaving Austin, Gage questioned the wisdom of bringing his dog on a business trip.
Of course, it wasn’t a normal business trip—unless showing up at your ex-girlfriend’s office building unannounced and uninvited counted as customary. And Arwen wasn’t a normal dog. She was his best buddy, and the one and only time he’d left her at one of those pet hotels, she’d refused to speak to him for a week.
Arwen shared Gage’s love of the open road and honestly, he didn’t mind the company as he drove to Dallas to collect a long overdue debt from the CEO of Fyra Cosmetics.
GB Skin for Men, the company he’d just pushed into the billion-dollar-a-year category, had enjoyed a good run as the top skin-care line of choice for the discerning guy who spends time in the elements: professional athletes, outdoorsmen, even the occasional lumberjack.
Gage had spent millions designing a new product to heal scars. The product’s launch a month ago had outperformed his carefully executed publicity strategy. GB Skin instantly cornered the market. But now his former lover’s company was poised to steal his success out from under him with a product of their own. That wasn’t going to happen.
A Black Keys song blasted through the speakers and the howling grew unbearable.
“Arwen! Really. Shut up.”
She cocked her ginger-colored head and eyed Gage.
“Yeah, never mind,” Gage grumbled good-naturedly and flicked off the music.
The exit for Central Expressway loomed and Gage steered the Hummer north. He drove a few miles and before long, he rolled into the parking lot at the headquarters for Fyra Cosmetics.
Nice. Of course, he’d done an internet search for pictures before driving up from Austin. Just to check out the company Cassandra Claremont had built alongside her business partners–slash–friends after graduating from the University of Texas. But the internet hadn’t done justice to the sharply modern, glass and steel, five-story building. Cass’s multimillion-dollar cosmetics company lived and breathed inside these walls, and the deep purple Fyra logo dominated the landscape.
“Stay here and keep your paws off the gearshift,” he muttered to Arwen and got the trademark vizsla smile for his trouble. It was a cool day, so he parked in the shade and left her in the car with the windows cracked.
Cass had done very well for herself thanks to him. Gage had been her mentor for eight months and turnabout was fair play. She owed him. And he’d help her see that by reminding her of how he’d guided her at a time when she had no idea how to navigate the shark-infested waters of the cosmetics industry.
With any luck, Cass would be curious enough to see him on short notice. Gage couldn’t call ahead and lose the advantage of surprise. Not when he was here to get his hands on Cass’s secret formula.
So secret, he shouldn’t even know about it since it wasn’t on the market yet. His sources had whispered in his ear about a miracle formula developed in Fyra’s labs that worked with a body’s natural healing properties to eliminate wrinkles and scars. His intel adamantly insisted it was better than his. And he wanted it.
You didn’t spring that kind of request on anyone over the phone, not even a former girlfriend. They hadn’t even spoken in eight or nine years. Nine. Maybe it was closer to ten.
“Gage Branson. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
The husky feminine voice raked over Gage from behind before he’d managed to get ten feet from the Hummer.
He spun to face the speaker and did a double take. “Cass?”
“Last time I checked.” High-end sunglasses covered her eyes, but her tone conveyed a hint of cool amusement just fine. “Did I leave my face in my other purse again?”
“No, your face is right where I left it.” Gorgeous and attached to a hell of a woman.
But this überchic version in five-inch heels and a sexy suit with cutaway panels at her hips did not resemble the Cassandra Claremont who lived in his memories. Her voice wasn’t even the same. But something about the way she held herself was very familiar. Confidence and the ever-present “look but don’t you dare touch” vibe had always been a huge part of her attractiveness.
Obviously he hadn’t changed much since graduate school if she’d recognized him from behind.
“Moving into the dog transportation business, are you?” she asked blithely.
He glanced at the Hummer. “You mean Arwen? Nah. She’s just company for the drive. I came up from Austin to see you, actually. Surprise.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
The lack of question in that question said she already knew the answer. And wasn’t planning to adjust her calendar one tiny bit, even for an old boyfriend. He’d change that soon enough.
“I was hoping you’d see me without one.” He grinned, just to keep things friendly. “You know, for old times’ sake.”
His grin grew genuine as he recalled those old times. Lots of late-night discussions over coffee. Lots of inventive ploys to get Cass’s clothes off. Lots of hot and truly spectacular sex when she finally gave in to the inevitable.
She pursed her lips. “What could we possibly have to say to each other?”
Plenty. And maybe a whole lot more than he’d originally come to say. Now that he was here and had an eyeful of the new, grown-up Cass, a late-night dinner and a few drinks with a former lover had suddenly appeared on his schedule for the evening.
Everyone here was an adult. No reason they couldn’t separate business from pleasure.
“For one, I’d like to say congratulations. Long overdue, I realize,” he threw in smoothly. “I’ve been following along from afar and what you’ve accomplished is remarkable.”
Once her name had been dropped in his lap as a potential game changer, he’d searched the internet for details, first with an eye toward how well she was executing his advice and eventually because he couldn’t stop. Strangely, he’d liked seeing her picture, liked remembering their relationship. She was one of a small handful of women from his past that he recalled fondly, and for a guy who held on to very little in his life, that was saying something.
“Thank you.” She inclined her head graciously. “It was a group effort.”
He waited for her to say she’d been following his entrepreneurial trajectory in kind. Maybe a congrats or two on the major retail distribution deals he’d scored in the past few years. An attaboy for Entrepreneurs of America naming him Entrepreneur of the Year. If nothing else, Fyra’s CEO should be brushing up on her competition the way he had.
Nada. She hadn’t been a little curious about what he’d been up to? Was their time together such a blip in her life that she’d truly not cared?
But then, their affair had been brief, by design. Once he’d escaped his restrictive childhood home and overprotective parents, he’d vowed to never again let his wings be clipped. He owed it to his brother, Nicolas, to live on the edge, no regrets. To experience all the things his brother never would thanks to a drunk driver. Sticking to one woman didn’t go with that philosophy and Gage liked his freedom as much—or more—than he liked women, which meant he and Cass had parted ways sooner rather than later, no harm, no foul. He could hardly blame her for not looking back.
“Come on.” He waved off her “group effort” comment. “You’re the CEO. We both know that means you call the shots.”
She crossed her arms over that sexy suit, drawing attention to her breasts. In spite of the cool breeze, the temperature inched up a few degrees.
“Yes. Because someone has to. But Trinity, Harper, Alex and I run this company together. We’re all equal owners.”
Yeah, he’d figured she’d say that. The four women had been inseparable in college and it wasn’t hard to imagine they’d extended their tight circle into the company they’d created together. Fortunately, he’d always gotten along with the quartet of savvy females, but Cass was the one he had his sights set on. She’d make this deal happen.
“Can we take this inside?” Hoping she’d like the idea of getting behind closed doors as much as he did, he sidled closer. “I’d like to catch up.”
“Gage.”
Her husky voice wound through him as she moved closer in kind, tilting her head toward his in a way that shouldn’t feel as intimate as it did. A hint of jasmine filtered through his senses and it was a powerful punch. “Yeah, Cass?”
“You can save the ‘Kumbaya,’” she murmured. “You’re here because you’ve heard about Fyra’s breakthrough formula and you want it.”
Back to business, then.
He grinned and reined in his thundering pulse. Going toe-to-toe with Cass was such a turn-on. Smart, sexy women who didn’t take any crap had always floated his boat. “Am I that easy to read?”
Cass laughed in his ear, a throaty sound he instantly wanted to hear again. “I’m afraid so. Sorry you’ve wasted your time. The formula is not for sale.”
All right, then. Cass needed persuasion to see how his tutelage had launched her into the big leagues. He’d anticipated that.
“Of course it isn’t. Not to the rest of the world. But I’m not one of the masses,” he reminded her. “I’m not unreasonable. I’ll pay fair market value.”
He turned his head at just the right angle to almost bring their lips together. The pull between them was magnetic, and he nearly forgot for a second that he’d instigated this sensual tease to get him closer to his goal—the formula.
She didn’t flinch, holding herself rock steady. “You think you have special rights because of our former relationship? Think again.”
His element of surprise hadn’t worked to catch her off guard and, for some reason, that made her twice as attractive. Or maybe the unexpected draw had come about because they were equals now. It was an interesting shift in their dynamic he hadn’t expected, and it was throwing him off.
So he’d up his game. Gage had never met a woman he couldn’t charm. When he wanted something, he got it. “That’s no way to talk to an old friend.”
If he moved an inch, they’d be touching. He almost did it, curious if she still felt the same—soft, exciting and warm. Except he had the distinct impression Cass was all business and little pleasure these days. And that she wasn’t interested in mixing them up.
“Is that what we are?”
There came that sexy laugh again and it did a powerful number on his already-primed lower half. She really shouldn’t be so intriguing, not with his agenda and the lost element of surprise. But all of that actually heightened his sense of awareness, and he had a sharp desire to get under her skin the same way she’d managed to get under his.
“Friends. Former lovers. At one time, mentor and student.”
“Mmm. Yes.” She cocked her head. “You’ve taught me a lot. So much that I’m running a successful company I need to get back to. You’ll excuse my rudeness if I request you make an appointment. Like anyone else who wants to talk business.”
All at once, her heat vanished as she pulled away and clacked toward the entrance to her building. Ouch. He’d been relegated to the ranks of “anyone else.”
He let her go. For now.
There was no way a former pupil of his was going to take away even a single point of his market share, and he’d pay handsomely to ensure it. But one had to do these things with finesse.
Remind her of what you’ve done for her. Remind her how good it was.
The voice in his head was his own conscience. Probably. But sometimes he imagined it was Nicolas guiding him from beyond the veil. A big brother’s advice in times of need, which usually led Gage down the path of living life to the fullest. Because Nicolas couldn’t.
The philosophy had never steered Gage wrong before.
He wasn’t about to stop listening to sound advice now, especially when it aligned with what he wanted. Cass clearly needed a good, solid reminder of how tight they’d been. So tight, he knew every inch of her body.
Your best strategy is to use pleasure to influence business.
Nicolas had spoken. And that pretty much solidified Gage’s next steps because that genie wasn’t going back in the bottle. He wanted her. And her formula. If he did it right, one would lead to the other.
He gave her a good five minutes and went after her.
Turnabout was fair play in love and cosmetics.
* * *
Hands shaking, Cass strode to her office and checked her strength before she slammed the door behind her. That would only invite questions and she had no answers for why her entire body still pumped with adrenaline and...other things she’d rather not examine.
Okay, that was a flat-out lie. Gage Branson was the answer, but why seeing him again so severely affected her after all of this time—that she couldn’t explain.
God, that smile rocked her to the core, even all these years later. And his still-amazing body had been hidden underneath casual-Friday dress, when it should clearly be on display in a pinup calendar. He’d always had the messiest, most casually cut hair that somehow managed to look delicious on him. Still did. Oh, yes, he was just as sexy and charismatic as he’d always been and she hated that she noticed. Hated that he could still put a quiver in her abdomen. Especially after what he’d done.
Breathe. Gage was just a guy she used to know. Put that on repeat a thousand times and maybe she’d finally believe it. Except he wasn’t just a guy from college; that was the problem.
Gage Branson had broken her.
Not just her heart, but her. Mind, body and soul. She’d fallen so hard for him that the splat hadn’t even registered. Until he casually declared their relationship over, and did she want the clothes back that she’d left at his place?
Nine years later and she was still powerless to move on, unable to fall in love again, incapable of forgetting and far too scarred to forgive. And that’s why her hands were still shaking. Pathetic.
The only positive was she felt certain Gage hadn’t picked up on her consternation. God forbid he figure out how greatly he’d affected her. Emotions had no place here, not at work, not in her personal life. No place. That’s the most important lesson she’d learned from her former mentor. Thankfully, he’d taken her advice to make an appointment without too much protest, giving her much-needed regroup time.
Her phone beeped, reminding her she had five minutes until the meeting she’d called would begin. Five minutes to put her thoughts together about how Fyra should handle the leak in the company. Someone reprehensible had publicized Harper’s nanotechnology breakthrough before they’d even gotten FDA approval or a patent. Five minutes, when she should have had an hour, but didn’t because of the car wreck on Central and the surprise appearance of the man who’d laced her nightmares for nearly a decade.
And maybe a few need-soaked dreams. But he didn’t have to know about that.
Great. This was exactly what she needed, a come-to-Jesus meeting with Trinity, Harper and Alex so soon after locking horns with the offspring of Satan. Who was here strictly because of a leak that never should have happened.
Well, she’d have to get her wild swing of emotions under control. Now. It wasn’t as though she didn’t already know how she felt about the leak—sick, furious and determined to find the source. They’d not only lost a potential competitive advantage, until they figured out who had spilled, there was also no guarantee the same person wouldn’t leak the secret formula—or steal it.
But five minutes was scarcely enough time to settle her racing heart before waltzing into a room with her best friends, who would see immediately that Something Had Happened. They’d probably also realize “Something” had a man’s name all over it.
Working with people who’d held your hair when you drank too much and borrowed your clothes and sat with you in a tight huddle at your grandfather’s funeral meant few secrets. Most of the time, Cass appreciated that. Maybe not so much today.
In the bathroom, she patted her face with a blotting cloth and fixed her makeup, which was equal parts wardrobe and armor.
No one saw through Cass when she had her face on—with the right makeup, no one had to know you were hurting. The philosophy born out of the brokenness Gage had left her with had grown into a multimillion-dollar company. Best Face Forward wasn’t just the company tagline, it was Cass’s personal motto.
No man would ever put a crack in her makeup again.
Fortified, Cass pasted on a cool smile and exited the bathroom. Only to run smack into Fyra’s receptionist, Melinda. Her wide eyes spelled trouble as she blurted out, “There’s an extremely persistent man at the front desk who seems to believe you have an appointment with him.”
Gage. When she’d said make an appointment, she meant for later. Much later.
Her not-so-settled nerves began to hum. “I don’t have an appointment with him. I have a meeting.”
“I told him that. But he insisted that you’d scheduled time with him, and he drove all the way from Austin.” Melinda lowered her voice. “He was very apologetic and sweet about it. Even asked if there was a possibility you accidentally double booked your appointments.”
Did his audacity have no end?
The stars in Melinda’s eyes were so bright, it was a wonder she could still see around Gage’s charm. Well, Cass didn’t suffer from the same affliction. “When have I ever done that?”
“Oh, I know. Never.” Her shoulders ducked slightly. “But I...well, he asked if I’d mind checking with you and he just seems so sincer—”
“Why is Gage Branson in our reception area?” Trinity Forrester, Fyra’s chief marketing officer, snapped, her short, dark hair nearly bristling with outrage. Since Trinity possessed the main shoulder Cass had cried on back in college, the statement was laced with undercurrents of the “hold me back before I cut off his fingers with a dull blade” variety.
Cass stifled a sigh. Too late to have Melinda throw him out before anyone saw him. “He’s here with a business proposition. I’ll take care of it.”
As the woman in charge, she should have taken care of it in the parking lot once she’d figured out he wanted her formula. But he’d been so... Gage, with his wicked smile. He fuzzled her mind and that was not okay.
This was strictly business and she would die before admitting she couldn’t handle a competitor sniffing around her territory.
“That’s right.” Trinity crossed her arms with a smirk. “You take care of it. You toss him out on his well-toned butt. Shame such a prime specimen of a man is riddled with health problems.”
Melinda’s gaze bounced back and forth between her employers, clearly fascinated by the exchange. “Really? What’s wrong with him?” she asked in a stage whisper.
“He’s got terrible allergies to commitment and decency,” Trinity explained. “And Cass is going to hand him his hat with class. Can I watch?”
Strangling over a groan, Cass shook her head. This was her battle, and there was no way she’d deal with Gage for a second time today in front of a bevy of onlookers. “It’s better if I talk to him in my office. Trinity, can you tell Alex and Harper I’ll be there in a few minutes?”
Trinity harrumphed but edged away as Cass stared her down. “Okay. But if you’re robbing us of the show, you better come prepared to spill all the details.”
With Melinda dogging her steps—because the receptionist likely didn’t want to miss a thing at this point—Cass marched to the reception area.
Arms crossed and one hip leaning on the desk as if he owned it, Gage glanced toward her as she entered, his deep hazel eyes lighting up at the sight of her. His slow smile set off a tap dance in her abdomen. Which was not okay. It was even less okay than his ability to fuzzle her mind.
Steeling her spine against the onslaught of Gage’s larger-than-life personality, she jerked her head toward the hallway. “Five minutes, Mr. Branson. I’m late for a board meeting.”
“Mr. Branson. I like the sound of that,” he mused, winking. “Respect where respect is due.”
Flirting came so naturally to him, she wondered if he even realized when he was doing it. She rolled her eyes and turned her back on his smug face, taking off toward her office in hopes he’d get lost.
He drew abreast with little effort, glancing down at her because he still topped her by several inches no matter how high her heels were, dang it. His powerful masculinity dominated the small hallway that had always seemed quite large enough for every other person who’d accompanied her to her office.
“Trying to score the first one-minute mile? You can’t outrun me barefoot, let alone while wearing icepick stilettos.” He eyed them appreciatively, his too-long hair flopping over his forehead. “Which I like, by the way.”
Her toes automatically curled inside her shoes as heat swept over her skin. “I didn’t wear them for you.”
Why had she thought taking care of this in her office was a good idea? She should have gone to her board meeting and had Melinda tell Gage to take a hike.
But he would have just shown up over and over again until she agreed to an appointment.
So she’d get rid of him once and for all.
