Connexion

Part 8

She was not good at social chit-chat with new people. With her friends, she could talk with ease, but in new social circles, she would opt for the back row. She mumbled, "I did not insist." And then said more loudly, "I just asked! Politely!" Her eyes emphasised the fact she had no intention of backing down in this head to head battle.

His brows rose, "Because you ask, politely, I should do what you want in my personal life? Isn't that conceit? Or just plain arrogance?" Rhetorical questions. He wasn't expecting an answer, merely highlighting the ridiculous nature of her quest. Why would she, someone who knows nothing about him, would reach a conclusion that she could influence his decisions about his personal life, or derail his ideas or future actions, especially in his sex life? His eyes tracked over her while he said calmly, "Looking at your assets does not explain your conceit and vanity."

She blinked. Vain, the word rattled around in her brain. She was here, with no make-up, with an unremarkable suit, with stubby-heeled-shoes for someone who is on her feet for most of the time, so no sign of vanity.

"I acknowledge you are beautiful on the outside. But, being beautiful, does not explain your conceit!" Jena watched his eyes. He was obviously weighing up her features, and he drew an equally quick conclusion: Not worth it. His eyes conveyed that. And his silent message dispersed her fury.

Humour replaced her pique. She chuckled. Which was a surprise to him. She shrugged, "You might not rate my assets, but I am really happy with them!" She shrugged again, "I am happy in my skin."

Caleb nearly chuckled, because he was impressed: she deflected his criticism. Caleb wasn't sure quite what to make of the ultra conservative woman standing before him. She seemed pretty sure of herself, and equally sure of her ability to control him.

She folded her arms, "And I know I am not arrogant. And not a bully."

Obviously the slur rankled in her brain. Caleb watched her eyes and saw that sadness swamped her. So he lowered his tone and said quietly, "But you think you can replace Melanie in my social circle."

"No!" Jena unfolded her arms, she was still processing his early statements about her conceit, that he thought she was a bully. "And for your information, your interpretation of conceit does not match my understanding!" She murmured quietly "Conceit would need vanity?' She said quietly. "In any case, me accepting my assets, does not make me vain." She snapped in exasperation.

His comment about her vanity hit the mark, given the exasperation and sadness he saw stacked in her eyes. His tone, laced with mockery, he asked, "What exactly are you offering, Ms Silva?" He asked, using a tone of voice to address her, if he was asking a petulant child. He gestured at her, "Is this what you are offering?"

Jena squared her shoulders and said bluntly, "I am not offering you anything, Mr Harland! I am not stupid! Although contradicted by the fact I am here!"

He saw the spark of ire erupt into fury in her eyes. He continued with his demolition. "Good to hear that!" Derision enveloped those words.

Jena clenched her hands. She did not come here for him to use her as a target. Or for his entertainment. He bridged his fingers and tapped his lips with his coupled index fingers before saying with open challenge, "Clearly, your position, your significance, your influence is a figment in your mind."

"Oh, for goodness, Mr Harland!" She mumbled. "A figment in my mind. What is wrong with you?" The man must be an idiot.

About time she realize she made a mistake with that assumption. His eyes reflected his disdain. Jena gulped. "You are labouring under a delusion that your assets would influence my decisions about my sex life. You assume, just by turning up here, I would follow your orders because you are beautiful. Is that why you did not phone? Thought you could persuade me to substitute Melanie?"

"Of course not." Her tone failed to conceal her scorn.

"So, what? You thought, if I saw you, I would fall at your feet?"

"Why would I think that?" And silently asked herself the same question.

"Ecstatic that you voluntarily came to my office and offered yourself to me on a plate with all the trimmings?"

He stepped around his desk and walked purposefully toward her. Measured, direct, sure. Her alarm escalated. But Jena was mesmerized. The man could, and indeed did, stop women in their tracks. But usually it wasn't out of sheer fright! She was sure he could hear her heartbeat as adrenalin raced through her system while her head issued an instruction. Leave. Fast. Now.

She was sure her panic, unease, and utter dread would be reflected in her eyes. Now if only she could persuade her legs to move equally purposefully toward the door. Fast. A simple, good plan. But her brain was currently dealing with the flight or fight conundrum, too busy reviewing his statement about her disposition. Anyway, it looked like her heart was opting for fight, which really was not the best idea here. Given their size difference she was hardly likely to come out the victor. But then, this whole idea was not her best plan.