One Night with Her Brooding Boss. Cathy Williams
for freedom.’
‘To the barricades!’ Nancy exclaimed as everyone laughed. ‘But don’t forget to put your make-up on first.’
‘So, are you with us, Nancy?’ Magenta asked, turning serious.
‘You bet I am. After what I’ve taken from those men today, I’m itching for a fight.’
She might have known, Magenta thought as she entered the room where they were to trial the products at the head of her girls. Sweet little dressing-tables had been set out for each of them as if they were life-sized Barbie dolls. On top of these was spread an array of high-end beauty products guaranteed to make any woman’s heart beat faster. Fortunately, both Magenta and her newly formed team knew how to play it cool—which was just as well, seeing as Quinn’s team was standing ready with their clipboards waiting to take down their thoughts.
‘How nice,’ Magenta murmured, as if trialling nail varnishes and lipsticks was all her candy-floss heart had ever yearned for. She gestured that her team should choose a seat, and the girls smilingly obliged—but then they were in on the surprise Magenta had in store for the men.
Said men could hardly keep the smiles from their smug faces, though Quinn appeared quite relaxed about the trial he’d set up. And gorgeous, Magenta registered, with his crisp, white shirt rolled up to the elbows and beautifully tailored black trousers moulding the shape of his muscular thighs and hips with obscenely loving attention to detail. Undressing such a spectacular specimen would be a privilege…
‘Aren’t you going to sit down, Magenta?’
‘If there were enough chairs.’
‘Here, take mine—I won’t be needing it,’ Quinn explained as he held out a chair for her.
There was a distinct rustle of expectation in the air as the men adopted serious expressions. Once again, they were ready to jeer and jibe at the slightest cue from Quinn, but he remained brooding and unmoved. And now all Magenta had to do was to discover if she was as bold as she had promised the girls she would be on their behalf. Picking up a lipstick, she pursed her lips. ‘Glittering Fool’s Gold,’ she murmured, straightening up again. ‘What do you think of it?’
‘What do I think of it?’ Quinn said, frowning.
‘Yes. What do you think of it?’ Magenta repeated, standing up. She had everyone’s attention now. ‘According to men, women do everything for their benefit—so surely your opinion matters more than ours?’ She tipped her chin to stare Quinn in the eyes, all the while smiling pleasantly. ‘Would you like to taste it?’ An audible intake of breath rose around her, but before there could be any misunderstanding she handed the lipstick over to Quinn. ‘You don’t have to put it on. You could lick it, or suck it.’
Taking her arm, Quinn drew her out of earshot of the others. ‘This is a serious trial and you’re a disruptive influence. What the hell do you think you’re playing at, Magenta? ‘
‘Conducting a serious trial,’ Magenta insisted in a heated whisper. ‘This lipstick looks as good as the one I use, but it tastes like medicine mixed with pond swill. Would you kiss a girl wearing something like that twice?’
Quinn’s eyes narrowed dangerously and it took all her strength to hold his gaze without flinching. The glint in his eye said she’d gone too far again, but he couldn’t argue with her motives. ‘I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt this time,’ he said. ‘But keep it straight from here on in. No jokes. No double entendre. Don’t try any more tricks. Understood?’
‘Perfectly.’
When the girls had finished testing the make-up, Quinn eased away from the wall. ‘Thank you, all of you, for your co-operation. Please take anything you like.’
‘Excuse me…?’
‘Yes? Quinn’s head shot round when Magenta spoke up.
‘We girls didn’t want to be passive observers in the trial, and though we’ve enjoyed the experience enormously we do have some products we’d like you men to trial.’ She almost had to shout over the ensuing uproar. ‘We thought it could only benefit the campaign to get some insight into male products too, to cover all the market,’ she said quickly, seeing Quinn’s expression turn thunderous. He had granted her one favour and now she was stretching his patience to the limit, while the men were baying for her blood. After all, what could a woman possibly know about a man’s world?
Quinn silenced the roar of protest.
She had to risk everything on one final throw of the dice. ‘I wouldn’t have thought of it,’ Magenta said innocently. ‘I have you to thank, Quinn, for pointing out that our advertising efforts are largely directed at men. As this is the case, the girls and I thought it only prudent to be sure we’re on the right track by trialling some of the new male products and getting your thoughts on them.’
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ Quinn interrupted impatiently as the other men around him started to complain. ‘Magenta’s right,’ he added to her amazement. ‘I said we’d have a fair trial, and we will, which means the results cannot be assessed until we have views from both ends of the spectrum.’
With men at the top end of that spectrum and women nowhere, presumably, Magenta thought. But this wasn’t the time to be greedy—not while everything was going to plan. ‘Would you give us a minute to set up?’ she asked before Quinn had a chance to change his mind.
‘Take all the time you need. More than a minute and I’m out of here. What’s this? ‘ Quinn demanded when Magenta returned at the head of her team.
‘A shaving chair I borrowed from the local barber.’
Quinn shook his head in cynical surprise, but insisted on lifting it out of her hands all the same. ‘Where would you like it?’
‘In the centre of the room, please.’ The men weren’t smirking any longer, Magenta noticed. ‘All we need now is a volunteer. What, no one? Won’t anyone help us with our trial?’
Someone sniggered.
‘I will.’
All eyes were on Quinn, who was already loosening his tie.
‘THANK you, Quinn.’ She only had to hold his gaze to realise it contained all sorts of messages that made her yearn inside, most of which were, thankfully, indecipherable to anyone else in the room.
Everyone held a collective breath as Magenta helped Quinn take off his jacket. She could feel his warmth through the cool of his cotton shirt and an array of muscles flexing beneath her fingers. The spread of his shoulders was a challenge in itself, and though she wasn’t small she had to stand on tiptoes to slide his jacket off them. She gave it to one of the girls to hang up.
‘Would you like me to take my shirt off too?’ Quinn suggested.
‘That won’t be necessary, thank you.’ He really knew how to make her heart thunder. ‘If you would care to sit down…?’
Quinn arranged himself on the leather seat, and before she lowered it she secured a protective cover around his neck. Then, tipping him back so she could reach the sink, she stood over him. Their stares connected. Lying flat on his back, Quinn’s was amused, while hers could only have shown how much she was enjoying this moment of domination. To have Quinn’s strong, tanned face beneath her fingers and his gaze, laced with irony, daring her to do her worst was the best challenge she could have dreamed of. ‘Would you be more comfortable with your shoes off?’
‘I’ll keep them on, thank you—I might want to make a quick getaway.’
Quinn’s comment lifted the atmosphere at a stroke and even Magenta laughed.
‘Get on with it,’ he warned. ‘Remember, I want all those reports on my