Chapter One
She was not at all what I had been expecting when she walked into my office on a humid, rainy Wednesday morning.
I'd been speculating what the acting CEO of ISC, a small yet major global trader of rare antiquities would look like, purely for something else to do besides the monotonous work that lay in front of me on a day-to-day basis.
I was guessing that Elizabeth Summers was more than likely some young, uptight, incredibly proper English woman, who would look down her nose at some ignorant, American bastard like myself, investing into her family business, as her father lay ill.
Either that or she was the English version of a Kardashian-rich, materialistic and spoiled rotten by Daddy Dear, even though I didn't really see Rupert Giles as that type of father.
However, the woman that followed my secretary into my office was neither of those things. It's a little bit funny how I could tell almost instantly.
She was beautiful, yes, but so much more than that. She walked with such confidence. Her stride was short, quiet and graceful yet assertive. She was someone that was obviously used to being in charge, long before taking her father's reigns as CEO. Something that she had obviously picked up in her years as Head Slayer.
She had the most beautiful shade of blonde hair I'd ever seen. It fell just below her shoulders in big, bouncy curls. I could almost feel how soft it was.
I would bet nearly all of my money that she was the 'silent yet deadly' type.
No matter the fact that she was a very petite woman, it was her eyes that gave it away.
They were a beautiful shade of emerald green. They were a little bit of a murkier hue at the moment, but I could see them brightening up as she took in my appearance as well.
At least the appreciation was mutual. I could only imagine what those eyes would look like, staring up at me, heavy with lust.
Despite the heat and humidity, she wore a fitted blazer in a rich, sultry maroon with a lacy black piece underneath. They were paired with a pair of dark wash jeans that hugged every single asset of her lower half exquisitely. The heels she wore were most definitely not made for the office.
Her poise screamed confidence, grace and resolve while her outer appearance screamed rebellion.
Blondes weren't my usual preference but there was no way I was about to discriminate against this beautiful creature. I'm lucky she didn't know how I was already quickly becoming putty in her hands so early in our meeting.
She smiled a small, polite smile and stuck out her hand.
"Mr. Cross, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard nothing but excellent things."
I was immediately taken aback by two things—her American accent and her very firm grip.
"You're either talking to all the right people or all the wrong people." I joked.
"Just Giles." she smiled.
I raised a slight eyebrow at her calling her father by his last name, my theory on her rebellious side being confirmed.
Instead of commenting, I just ignored it and moved on.
"Sit." I said, gesturing to the plush couch in my office.
The plush couch I was now envisioning her sprawled out on, with her arms wrapped around my neck and her legs wrapped around my waist.
I quickly tried to erase the thought from my mind as to not make this meeting go from 'good-so-far' to 'awkward-as-shit'.
The smile on her face dimmed a bit and she gave a quizzical look as she did so.
"Definitely in New York" she mumbled.
"Sorry?"
She glanced up and it was very obvious that I was not supposed to have heard.
"Oh, um, I just…you know what? It's nothing. Just got back from London a few hours ago. Long flight. Not into making much sense at the moment."
"We could've postponed this until later today or tomorrow. We still can, if you wish to go home and get some rest."
I was suddenly finding my tight schedule to be extremely open for Ms. Summers.
She shook her head. "No, it's okay. You were on my way from the airport. Plus I'm here now so it wouldn't make much sense for me to go all the way home just to have to come back later."
"So what took you back to London? The last time I spoke with your father's secretary, she had said that you had arrived a few days ago." I asked, conversationally, as I grabbed a folder from my desk.
"I just had to go back to….settle some affairs….that had come up unexpectedly."
Her reply seemed logical enough but I could hear the careful half truths entwined within.
"Couldn't someone in your office have taken care of it? So you didn't have to travel all the way back to London?"
"Not a business affair. Personal one."
She seemed more than a little uncomfortable so I dropped the subject.
"Family stuff." she added on.
The thought of my family passed through me with a flash of bubbling anger, but I quickly banished that thought away too.
"I can definitely relate to 'family stuff'. Would you care for a beverage? Coffee, water, tea?"
"If I ever have to drink another cup of tea in my life, I might implode."
I grinned and sat down in a chair opposite her, opening the folder. "I'll take that as a no then. Has your father told you anything about what we were planning before he…stepped down?"
A brief look of worry and hurt flashed through her eyes. I assumed it to do with his sudden illness.
"Not in so many words, no. He tends to keep the business stuff with the business people."
"I'll start at the beginning then. Your father—"
"Don't mean to interrupt," she said in a tone that implied exactly the opposite, "But he's not actually my father."
That rang through as a bit of shock.
"Oh?"
"Without delving too far into the boring details of my personal life, my parents got divorced when I was sixteen. Giles was the school librarian in the town my mother, sister and I moved to. He quickly became a close family friend-slash-father figure. He moved into the whole 'adoptive parent' thing when our mother died. We just say 'father' a lot because it's the easiest explanation. And it looks nicer on the paperwork."
So that's why she calls him 'Giles' rather than one of the many forms of 'father'….
There was one mystery solved.
"I'm very sorry to hear of your mother's passing."
Another thing we could relate on—a deceased parent.
"Thank you. Please, continue on."
I cleared my throat and launched into the lengthy explanation.
"Yes, as I was saying, the building your offices are located in went up for sale. I'd done some business with Rupert before as I'm more than a bit interested in the antiquities that ISC trades. I saw it in the newspaper and I made arrangements to buy the building immediately. I didn't—and still don't—want someone else coming in and trying to push you out. In addition, he and I had made an agreement for me to invest a little money into the background operations. We were in the middle of that transaction when he went ill. These papers are just the contract for that. Do you want me to go over them with you? They've already been signed by Rupert, myself and a witness for either side, in front of our respective lawyers. I just thought that you should know exactly what we've agreed to, seeing as how you're taking his place."
"As entertaining as that sounds, and I mean, really, sounds like a swell time, I think I'll pass."
"Are you sure? You should always read the fine print, Miss Summers. You never know what you could be getting yourself into."
Her mouth spread into a dazzling smile, showing off perfect teeth.
"Whatever it is, Mr. Cross, I'm sure I can handle it." Her tone was a bit flirty yet it indicated some sort of inside joke that I was clearly not privy to.
"Besides, the financials that you're referring to are going to be taken care of by Will-Miss Rosenberg, not me. I'm sure you remember her. Jittery redhead, about this tall? Couldn't miss her."
This woman had such an odd way of speaking. It was almost mesmerizing.
"Yes, we've met. She was the signature witness. If you don't mind me asking, why are you here and not she? If she's going to be the one dealing with the majority of this." I said, motioning to the paperwork.
"Not all of it, per se, just everything math related. I just figured that we, you and I, that is, should probably meet sooner rather than later.
"Oh? Really? Why sooner rather than later?"
I gave her one of my best seductive smiles. She blushed slightly.
"Because of the whole boss-change-thing, of course."
"Oh of course." I replied, still smiling.
I could see some of her cool confidence starting to slip. She glanced down at her watch and stood abruptly.
The image of her standing almost over me was an extremely powerful one in my imagination. My mind was racing with all of the things I could do to her, if she would let me.
"I'm sorry to have to cut this short but I just remembered that I have a date soon with some moving men. It was a pleasure to have met you, Mr. Cross."
She stuck her hand out again. I stood, my mind still racing with those horribly indecent thoughts, took her hand in mine and reciprocated the handshake.
"Please, Gideon. I was a pleasure to meet you as well, Elizabeth."
"Buffy. Nobody's called me Elizabeth in years. It's just another one of those paperwork things."
I glanced curiously at the odd nickname but didn't say anything about it.
"Buffy, then, it is. I might need my hand back at some point today, unless you plan on coming home with me later."
I could see the impact of my words as they hit her. The blush spread across her face, darker this time. She let go of my hand like it was on fire.
"Right. Sorry. Just email a copy of those papers to Willow. She'll go over it and fill me in on what I need to know. Have a great day, Mr. Cross. Gideon."
She exited my office with a bit less confidence and poise than when she had entered.
I smiled wide as I leaned back against my desk, feeling a mixture of arousal, delight and amusement with just a dash of confusion.
"A great day indeed, Miss Summers. A great day indeed."
