Which might be an issue, but it’ll be a rather delightful one, I predict.

Things get even more amusing when she follows me into my office and I turn to watch her long, well-shaped legs cross as she sits down where I silently order her to with a pointed finger. She looks up at me with those big eyes, trying to show confidence and not her fear. I can admire the attempt.

“Mr. Wolfe?” she says, breaking the silence first. It’s a small give, but one I’ll take. I get the feeling that her every submission to my authority will be hard won, so I’ll take an easy one with satisfaction.

I’m not going to torture her. Yet.

But that doesn’t mean I can’t devil her just a bit.

“Miss Stryker, you have been a major pain in my arse the last twenty-four hours,” I declare without preamble, perching on the corner of my huge desk mainly to hide my crotch just in case. “Instead of working on a very important project, I’ve spent my valuable time thinking long and hard about what you did. It takes either stones or stupidity, and I’m still not sure which you have.” I glare at her questioningly.

“Sir . . . if you’re going to fire me, just get it over with without the speech. Put me out of my misery.”

Elle’s outburst surprises me. Oh, so my little daredevil has a bit of fire in her belly.

“It was a stupid thing to do. Actually, stupid doesn’t even begin to describe it.” Her confession is bitter but self-directed, and honestly, rather accurate.

I sit at my desk, contemplating her. She seems rather settled on the outcome she expects. “Hmm, well . . . it is a fireable offense, for certain. But if that were my plan, it would not have taken me all night to decide what to do with you.”

It had actually taken me that long to play out each and every angle, measuring for maximum impact and conclusion. I had ultimately decided on my present course of action.

Daniel and I are adversaries in this race for HQ2, against each other but for the company’s ultimate good. Evaluating everything I know about Daniel leads me to believe that he will be set off-kilter by having his dear daughter work with me, especially on this project.

There’s a chance she could play me and serve as the insider spy for Daniel I’d originally thought she’d been, but I feel certain I can protect against that. And massaging this situation to my best benefit seems worth the risk.

And there’s a small niggling seed that says I’m intrigued by the woman who could have the world handed to her on a silver platter but refuses it in favor of making her own way, the woman who does seemingly crazy things just for the adventurous high of it, the woman whose mere photo had me rock hard and coming fiercely in record time.

“And what, exactly, do you plan to do with me?”

I detect the faintest hint of heat in the words, like she’s consciously saying them neutrally but unable to control the tightness in her throat.

“Move you up here, to be my dedicated assistant on the HQ2 project.” It’s a simple statement, but it causes all the air in the room to be sucked out.

“Excuse me?” Her glare could slice a lesser man.

“It’s rather straightforward. You will be on my team, and that is not a request. The very placement will be a communication that you support my proposal, so to be transparent, I am using you for your last name.”

“You want to use me against my own father? Against his proposal?” Her mouth gapes in fury. “And if I refuse?”

I am glad that she at least knows of the bids for HQ2 placement. Keeping Elle between Daniel and me is one thing, but it’s not fair play to use her without her even knowing that there’s a competition going on.

I shrug. “You won’t. Your talents are many. I looked at your corporate file, and to be honest, you are wasted on Miranda’s team. It seems your father is right that you should be at least a junior analyst, if not a more senior one if you’d gone into his department as he requested. This is an opportunity for you to move up as you wanted.”

I don’t give compliments lightly, but she doesn’t so much as acknowledge the comment about her talents. “And if you weren’t so bored and underutilized, perhaps you wouldn’t feel the need to get up to such useless pursuits as yesterday’s incident.”

She repeats tightly through clenched teeth. “And if I refuse?”

“If we do not come to some sort of understanding, I will be forced to file charges with HR and have you terminated. The circumstances would, I’m sure, be rather embarrassing to your father.”

“You’re blackmailing me?” she snaps.

“No, I’m daring you.” My lips quirk as I sense her attention perking up at the language. “You like dares, Elle.”

I bait the trap, and I await her response eagerly.

“I . . . I don’t like them,” she weakly replies even as her hands clench on the arms of her chair. “I just—”

“Can’t resist the rush that comes with them,” I finish for her, making her nod gently. “But let’s face it, Miss Stryker. Doing schoolgirl dares simply because your best mate challenges you must get rather boring after awhile. So I’ve decided I’m going to give you a refreshing new challenge.”

“A . . . challenge?” she asks, swallowing again.

“Yes, a new challenge. Up the ante, if you will? I dare you to leave the reception desk and become my assistant. You’ll be working directly underneath me.”

I hear the tiniest gasp pass her lips at the phrasing, and I want to chase that breath into her body, taste it from her lips. It’s the first real hint that she is as affected by me as I am by her. She’d said as much yesterday, but words can be selected for effect. This unconscious reaction is real. I can see the truth of it in her eyes.

“Why would you do this?” she finally asks. “You have an assistant. Helen, in case you forgot.”

“And I appreciate her. But I’m already overworking her and need the help,” I admit.

“You mean you need my last name.” She seems resolved to my plan now, but not in the way I’d prefer.

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.” I rise, walking toward the window. “Tell me, Elle. What reward did your friend offer you for yesterday’s dare?”

She seems confused at the turn in the conversation, tilting her head. “She agreed to drinks, a mani-pedi, and because of the drama, my favorite cupcakes. Pampering, sugar, and alcohol to cure all that ails you,” she jokes flatly.

“I see. So, drama aside, you two have fun with the silly little dares though, yes?” She nods slowly and I play my ace in the hole. “I find that I lack that type of lightheartedness in my life. Since coming to the States, I’ve been singularly focused on work, and that has served me well. But your incident highlighted just how boring I’ve become. It amused me.”

Her eyes bug out. “Boring? You?” I shrug noncommittally. “You drive a Lotus, work as a top-level executive, and judging by your office, you probably live in a mansion with a pool and a butler. But I’m amusing?”

Her irreverence is refreshing, and I get the feeling she couldn’t care less about my bank account or any fanciness my position and power afford.

“You’re correct, but none of those things are . . . fun.”