something, though, isn’t there, between you?’
You’d have had to be made of stone not to have picked up on the tension between them. Bronwyn wasn’t an idiot. And Amanda knew she wasn’t going to let her get off this track without offering up some of the detail.
‘A kiss.’
‘Only one?’
‘He stopped it going further.’
One frightening, exhilarating, life-changing kiss. So often she wished it had never happened. Yet other times, usually when she was kissing someone else, she was glad it had. Because it had been the one kiss that had given her a glimpse of what it could really be like. Amanda had gone in for a lot of kissing in her quest to find a man who could better it. She’d yet to succeed.
She’d romanticised it of course. That was the problem. With the passage of time that hazy memory had become something more than it had really been.
Amanda glanced across to see Bronwyn’s glance resting on her—amusement mixed with chagrin swirling in her expression. ‘Well, it’ll be interesting anyway.’
‘I’m really sorry, Bronwyn. I’d never have come along today had I known.’
Bronwyn shrugged. ‘If your past is going to make as much difference as all that, then maybe we don’t want his business. If he’s unprofessional enough to allow personal issues into his decision-making processes, then we’re better off without him, right?’
‘Right.’ Amanda wanted to smile but couldn’t. No way were they better off without his business. They needed his business no matter what.
‘But for what it’s worth, I think your presentation was stellar. Whatever history you two do or don’t have, it certainly put fuel in your fire. You could have sold me a three-week-old wet newspaper.’
Amanda flushed once more—this time from pleasure rather than mortification. And then the warm feeling subsided. No matter how good she’d been she was sure Jared wouldn’t give them the job.
At that moment Jared was staring at the painting hanging in the far corner of his office, for once not getting any sense of calm from the vast landscape it depicted. He tugged off the tie and undid the top button of his shirt.
This was business. He had to make this decision based on what was best for the company. Which was the pitch more likely to work and which was in tune with his vision? And who could he work with closely to get what he wanted?
What he wanted or who he wanted?
He frowned and turned away, looking out of the window and down the road where a few minutes ago a taxi had driven off, taking the infuriating Amanda away.
Damn.
Because he’d liked her pitch. He’d liked the idea. And there was a part of him that wanted to give the job to that company because he wanted to see it succeed—not go under, swallowed up by the global advertising giants. He’d stepped in and stopped this juice company from being taken over by a large offshore firm; it was part of what had driven him to work the hours he had and take the risks he had. They’d paid off too, those risks. Now he was contemplating another.
Could he really work with her?
He frowned. Ridiculous. Of course he could. A little lust attack could easily be stamped out. Because no way could he follow through on the idea of a one-night fling with her if they were to be working together. That would be messy and Jared loathed messy. He worked most of the time, he played outdoors some of the time and he scored even less of the time. The three were kept very separate. So what if he wanted her? He’d wanted her before and said no; he could do that again no sweat. Definitely.
The question was, could she work with him? Could she keep her professionalism up?
And that, he realised, was what he wanted to know. Could the spoilt princess cope with him giving the orders? His mouth stretched into a smile, slow and wide. How funny for the boot to be on the other foot. Amanda Winchester answering to his call for once.
It shouldn’t matter. Jared was not the kind who liked to abuse his power—but in this case, in this unique case, the temptation was irresistible.
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