Out of Bounds (4 page)

There wasn’t a cubicle in sight. Every office had floor-to-ceiling, dark frosted-glass walls. A few faint, muffled sounds made it to the hallway but nothing understandable. Small, glass-domed security cameras were mounted to the ceiling above every doorway.

She turned left and made it to the first open door. The boardroom was furnished with a huge table and a dozen padded chairs.

A petite woman sat behind a small desk set off to the side. “You’ll want to walk around the table and acquaint yourself with the names of the VPs who will be attending.”

Sabra swallowed the lump lodging in her throat. She was heading for a corner office, so there was no reason to panic. Her cubicle was just the bottom step of her career path. Every VP started the same way.

She walked around the table, reading the names and department titles. She circled all the way around twice before sitting down in front of her nameplate. It was very satisfying, even if her nameplate was missing a department title. It was still an engraved one, proving Nektosha didn’t penny pinch when it came to appearances.

It was a small thing, but she was marking it as an achievement along the road to gaining what she wanted.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Nektosha.”

Sabra was back on her feet. It was another one of those instant reactions, one Tarak didn’t miss. His gaze was straight on her as she pushed the chair back. His lips parted again. There was a flash of something in his eyes that set her heart accelerating again.

He was unfairly attractive. Mother Nature was a fucking bitch to make a man so mouthwatering.

At least one that was off limits.

The longer-than-normal business length of his midnight-black hair was still shockingly sexy, highlighting the primal beauty of a face set off with high and sharply defined cheekbones.

None of the normal words like
handsome
or
drop-dead
seemed to fit him. Instead, she was stuck on feelings like
intense
and
untamed
. The perfectly knotted tie and pressed shirt didn’t seem to hide it enough. Instead, the civilized business attire looked a lot like camouflage, and she had to fight the urge to back up.

Or move forward and rip it off.

Boss… Boss… Boss…

“Glad to see you could join us, Ms. Donovan.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, sir.”

There. She’d sounded sharp and on top of things. She looked straight back at him and watched him slowly curl his lips. He wasn’t grinning, at least not in a pleasant sort of way. In fact, she got the idea he did nothing that wasn’t cutthroat. Not in business and not in bed.

Sex demon for sure.

Too bad he was her boss.

There was a scuff on the floor as one of the VPs arrived. Two others hurried through the door, checking their watches as they found their seats.

Obviously Mr. Nektosha wasn’t early very often.

Of course not; he was a man others waited on. Any relationship with him would be strictly done on his whim.

A shiver rippled along her skin in response. Logically, she tried to remind herself that he was likely just toying with her. A man like him didn’t have to chase women. Inviting her to a board meeting wasn’t chasing either; he was making a point to his senior staff—a facet of his character she’d be wise to commit to memory. When it came to business, he expected excellence from his staff. Anything less would result in a lesson.

She was going to muck up her opportunity to impress him if she didn’t get her mind out of the gutter.

Tarak didn’t sit down. He punched a few buttons on his laptop and the wall behind him flickered to life. The new models he’d unveiled the night before showed up in bold color.

“We launched last night.”

The meeting was off at a frantic pace. It was stressful but exhilarating at the same time. Sabra leaned forward and kept her hands on her keyboard as she tapped in notes to look at later. Tarak ran it in a sharp, dry way that could have been called cutthroat. Instead she found it challenging. She wanted to keep up with his pace, wanted to anticipate where he was going with some of his ideas. The lack of title on her nameplate dissipated from her thoughts as she joined in the meeting.

Her action drew several disapproving looks, but she kept her attention on what Tarak was presenting. She hadn’t expected a welcome mat. Not here. Among the elite of Nektosha, you had to prove your worth first.

Tarak didn’t like the chair waiting at the head of the table. It remained empty ninety percent of the time as he put his hands on the images he was discussing.

The guy was an adrenaline junkie. Hands on, all the way.

She just wished that piece of knowledge didn’t make her shiver. Her attention strayed to his hands, the same ones that had stroked her hip so perfectly.

Confidently.

“For those of you who continue to glance at Ms. Donovan while you think I’m not able to see you behind me, in some attempt to remind her of her place, let me enlighten you.” Tarak turned around in a sharp motion, making a few of his VPs snap their attention back to him. “She’s here because not a single one of you picked up calls from this office Saturday night in spite of the fact that you took other, personal calls.”

Tarak rested his fingertips against the tabletop. “There are times we must be ready to adjust, and I expect my VPs not to play games which can cost this company the sort of deals that happen at launch parties. Teamwork is the foundation of this company.”

“We were told the design team would handle the launch—”

“The team was coming down from Alaska. Snowstorms have been known to interfere with air travel in that region,” Tarak shot back smoothly. “Hiding from the frantic calls of your assistants is unacceptable at your pay grade. The people beneath your feet make a quarter of what you do.”

A quarter? Sabra tried not to let her jealousy surface, but her eyes narrowed. Damned fat cats, they could choke on their cutting looks.

Tarak punched something on the laptop and neat columns of cell phone records appeared on the wall behind him. Names were highlighted as well as calls taken during the time of the launch party. A strained silence stretched out.

“If you don’t like me knowing your personal call history, I suggest you all purchase a personal cell phone with your own money. As long as this company pays the bill, we have the right to see the call records.”

No one moved, but a few faces turned red. She watched it with a strange, detached feeling. Sure, he was being a dick, but at the same time, she discovered herself cheering him on. The fat cats at the top should have to toe the line the same as the rest of the worker bees stuffed into cubicles beneath their posh sixteenth floor offices.

“Ms. Donovan will be joining these meetings for the rest of the quarter, and if she impresses me, as she did this weekend by stepping up when the company needed dedication, she will stay on this floor.”

It was as if he pounded a gavel. No one spoke; she was pretty sure no one moved. She didn’t even breathe. Tarak took only a moment to make sure his word was law before he left the room.

Every head turned and she was suddenly the sole point of attention. The VP next to her finally broke the silence as he offered her his hand.

“Welcome to the team.”

She collapsed back against the wall of the elevator the moment the doors closed. Tipping her head back, she blew out a long sigh. She felt drained, completely wrung out. It didn’t seem possible to run such a wide range of emotions in so short a time.

Part
of
the
team…

Well, didn’t that sound pretty?

Yeah, pretty scary if she was going to be honest. But she was planning to enjoy every moment. It was that odd little sensation of enjoyment you got from having your insides twisted with just enough fear to make you giddy when you realized you’d survived. She’d just shaken the hands of people who wanted to knife her in the back for doing what they should have. No one liked the boss to have an A student in the house when they hadn’t finished their homework.

She
was
going
to
make
it.

Sure, there were a tough three months ahead of her, but she was going to stuff every penny of her unexpected commission and promotion into her savings account. And she would make it—against the odds, in spite of her single-parent upbringing. She could still see the disdain on the loan officer’s face as he’d looked down his weasel-thin nose at her and grumbled about her father’s lack of credit, because she really needed a cosigner for her house.

No, she didn’t.

In fact, she was about to be able to put her unexpected commissions into her savings account to give herself some breathing room.

But a quarter?

She’d targeted Nektosha because it was a good company, but she hadn’t realized the people at the top made that kind of cash. It was surreal; she really couldn’t grasp it. No wonder the VPs had attitude to spare. They were used to a different world than she was.

But there were still some things that were universal. Pleasing the boss man was one.

She smiled on the way to her cubicle but slowed down when she noticed the looks coming over the dull beige partitions—calculating, envious stares, followed by hesitant smiles when she made eye contact. Whispers rose behind her, but she didn’t turn around because the two people in her cubicle commanded her full attention. They were packing up her desk. A rolling cart was parked in the aisle with neat file boxes loaded onto it. Deanna stood nearby, overseeing the entire operation.

Her insides twisted and her mouth went dry. Deanna caught sight of her and pushed her glasses up.

“I hope you’ll remember all of us down here.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” The words were stuck in her throat as the last box went onto the cart. The guy who’d loaded it nodded to her.

“We’ll get this all settled for you, Ms. Donovan.” He calmly grasped the stainless steel handle of the cart and began pushing it down the hallway. People rubbernecked out of their cubicles as it passed.

Her own cubicle was clean, the beige walls bare and sterile as if she’d never been there. Only her purse remained, sitting on the desk top as if it didn’t belong.

“I’ll transfer all your data. The computers upstairs are operating with more security protocols.”

Deanna held out her hands for the laptop Sabra was hugging. Handing it over took more effort than it should have.

“Here’s your new badge. Congratulations.”

Applause filled the area, proving there were plenty of people listening. The badge card Deanna offered was a sixteenth floor security tag. Her hand shook as she handled it and stared at her own picture.

“All right. Ten seconds of celebration, now back to work. You don’t start until tomorrow. Better enjoy the hour of free time today. I hear they work long hours up there.”

She believed it. Tarak looked like the demanding sort.

Deanna offered her a curious look before she took the laptop to her office. Sabra reached for her purse and turned her back on her cubicle.

Win or lose, she was taking a big step up the ladder.

Tonight, there was going to be ice wine and she wasn’t going to think about how much further she had to fall if she got kicked in the face.

***

His office was his command center.

Tarak entered it on a smooth, quick stride that didn’t draw any notice. His secretary was accustomed to him. Large, flat-screen monitors lined two walls but the other two were rows of windows that could be opened. The damned things had cost a bloody fortune, both in construction and additional insurance, but he didn’t care. He needed fresh air.

But that wasn’t the craving that was keeping him from settling down with one of the projects waiting for his attention.

It was the way Sabra had looked at him. Her eyes had narrowed and her lips rolled in.

And his cock was rock hard.

There were a dozen women he could call to ease that urge, but he didn’t reach for his phone. He leaned over his desk, trying to focus his attention on the monitor.

God
damn
it!

He grabbed his phone and keys and strode toward the door. His secretary looked up in confusion.

“I’m gone for the day.”

She didn’t get a chance to respond because Tarak was already stepping into an elevator. He punched the private garage level button and the doors slid shut.

He was out of his fucking mind
.

***

Just because she didn’t know what, exactly, her new position was, didn’t mean there wasn’t going to be ice wine. Sabra wasn’t going to let a little thing like a lack of information keep her from savoring the moment.

Whatever moment it really was. Sixteenth floor was good enough.

She took the stairs down to the parking garage, too hyper to stand still inside an elevator. Excitement was making her giddy, and she pulled her new work badge from her pocket as she pushed open the door to the parking level to look at it one more time, just to make sure she hadn’t dreamed the whole thing.

Yup, it wasn’t a dream. Sixteenth floor. The doors of the elevator opened as she reread the tag.

“I’m glad to see you’re pleased.”

Sabra stumbled and the badge went flying.

Tarak bent over and retrieved it before she could stop blinking at him like some sort of teenager newly sprung from a girls’ school.

The satisfaction on his face pissed her off though.

Arrogant and presumptuous—yeah, he was used to having sex kitten pets, all right. Not that she could really park all the blame at his doorstep. The guy really did emit some kind of primal musk and no one had a body like his without hitting the gym a lot.

He was still holding her badge and one dark eyebrow rose when she hesitated to take it back. He’d lost his suit jacket and tie. The collar of his shirt was open, giving her a look at his collarbone.

Her mouth went dry. She snagged the badge to distract herself, but heat prickled along her cheekbones.

Blushing… seriously?

“Why didn’t you join me in the penthouse?” he asked directly.

The badge in her hand suddenly irritated her. “Why did you give me this?”

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the door of a sleek convertible. The thing was midnight blue, which was why she hadn’t noticed it. He’d parked right in front of the elevator doors as if he owned the place.

Well, he did.

“Because you put the company first and didn’t fold under the pressure of your first board meeting. Do I look like the sort of boss who shares office space with fools?”

She shook her head. “Not really.”

“Nice to see I didn’t make a mistake. Stuff it in your bag and let’s get out of here before everyone leaves for the day. Launch meetings are enough public interaction for me.”

She was already doing what he commanded before she realized what he’d told her to do, because he certainly hadn’t asked. She wasn’t that naïve, leaving with him had only one purpose. “Excuse me?”

He opened the passenger side of the convertible in explanation. “I’d like to take you for a ride.”

Oh
hell…

Her thoughts went right to the seediest possible ideas.

“Unless I’m just coming on too strong for you.”

She clicked her car remote and it beeped behind her. “There’s strong and then there’s presumptuous.”

“There’s also dishonest, Sabra.”

He moved too fast—or maybe she was just too fascinated with him. One moment he was holding open the passenger-side door like a civilized man, and the next, he’d slid his hand along the side of her neck and threaded his fingers into her hair.

“You were looking at my mouth as if you wanted a taste.”

He cupped her hip and brought her up against his body. He was just as damn hard as she’d dreamed about. Her knees went weak and she was paralyzed by the scent of his skin.

He even smelled sexy. An ache began between her thighs that was so acute she gasped.

“I wasn’t.”

He brought his head close enough to let his breath tease her lips. She quivered, every inch of her body becoming needy. Her jaw opened, the yearning inside her just too much to ignore.

Tarak took instant advantage, pressing a hard kiss against her lips. There was nothing sweet about it. He fused his mouth with hers as if it were an assault, and she trembled as her will collapsed. Maybe it was because she’d thought about him so much, but she just couldn’t keep her hands off him. The temptation was too much and he was too damn close.

She reached for him, sliding her hands over the tight expanse of his chest. But what she really craved was his bare skin.

He left her lips behind as he trailed a row of kisses across her cheek and onto her neck. It was better than she’d imagined it would be, the contact between his mouth and her neck. She shivered as her nipples contracted, and her pussy begged for attention. He stroked her back, his hand smoothing over one side of her bottom before he very deliberately pressed her hips forward.

His cock was rock hard.

She gasped and one of the buttons on his shirt went flying as she clenched handfuls of his shirt.

“Damn it, I want to feel your claws against my skin.”

His grip tightened on her butt before he released her altogether. Her heart was pounding at a frantic pace and she honestly feared she’d stumble without his support. He yanked open the passenger side of the convertible again.

“Get in. We can’t get naked here.”

There was the flash of pure intention in his eyes. The more she looked at it, the more it resembled victory. Her pussy thought it was a great idea, but her pride balked.

She shook her head and backed up.

His lips thinned.

“You’re my boss.” She forced the words past her cravings.

“So we can’t fuck? Normally I’d agree with you, but I can’t seem to listen to my own logic,” he cut through her protest ruthlessly. “You want me to swear I won’t kick you to the curb with a black mark on your résumé if you get in the car?”

The arrogant tone of his voice really pissed her off. “Like there is anyone to hold you to that sort of a promise.”

He drew in a deep breath, looking as if he was actually fighting an internal battle. “I never date employees.”

“Glad to hear it.” But she wasn’t. Nope. She was frustrated and pissed.

“If I didn’t have integrity, Sabra, I’d have fucked Anastasia and pretended it was you.”

“So you’re a stand-up fellow for waiting until tonight. What’s that got to do with integrity?”

He glanced at his watch and pushed the car door closed. The first sounds of footsteps came from the stairways. He stepped close again, reaching out to stroke her cheek.

“It has to do with honesty, Sabra. It was your musk that hardened my cock, not hers. That garter belt made sure I could smell just how wet I made you.”

He backed up and went around the back of his car. He was in the driver’s seat and had the engine on before she recovered from hearing him talk about her body so boldly.

“And if I had no integrity, I’d stay right here for the rest of the office staff to see me trying to get you into my car. But you’ll have your hands full trying to carve out your new position without gossip linking us.”

He wheeled the expensive car into the traffic lane. There was only the dim glow of his taillights when the elevator doors opened to allow the first wave of employees into the parking garage.

What did it prove?

Anything? Everything? He was crass enough to bluntly say he wanted to fuck her but reined himself in before he was seen with her.

For his good or hers?

Her fingers suddenly trembled, making it nearly impossible to hold on to her keys. She stumbled into the driver’s seat but had to sit for a long time with her fingers curled around the steering wheel.

He’d smelled her?

She should have been mortified. Instead, her arousal twisted deeper inside her, as if it were burrowing into her cells.

It
was
insane.

The intensity, the savageness of the need so overwhelming, she was actually feeling a little pity for Anastasia.

Well, her pity was probably out of place because she’d just sent him away with a hard cock. Anastasia likely wasn’t spending the night alone thanks to her.

Sabra drew in a deep breath and turned on the car. She might be turned on beyond her wildest dreams, but at least she wasn’t a complete pushover.

Small comfort really. It would be just her luck to be dreaming about what she’d missed in ten years.

***

He’d been driving an Aston Martin Vantage.

She made it halfway home before her brain thawed enough for details to surface. The sun was still up but all she was thinking about were bedroom games.

Okay, with Tarak Nektosha just about anywhere would work. She seemed to have a short circuit when it came to him. Something inside her just punched the panic button and went straight to “get naked”—or more pointedly, “get him naked.” She wanted to see his skin, feel it, smell it, lick it. She’d never been so carnal in her life.

Well, she hadn’t gotten into the Aston Martin, so that was a point for her. One that came with frustration, but she was working on the sixteenth floor now. Stress was going to be a staple of her diet.