At the Billionaire's Beck and Call? by Rachel Bailey Page B

Every instinct he had screamed to lean over, pull her to him.
    Before he could act there was a light knock on the door, and Macy quickly withdrew her hand.
    The management team filed into the room and took seats, their faces serious at the prospect of a potential sale. But Ryder smiled inside. He’d already made a decision that was more important than anything that could come from this meeting.
    He’d been biding his time for seven days, as he would for any business deal where the other person was skittish.
    But that time was almost over. Macy had just shown she’d soon be ready for him to move their relationship forward. He had expected her to walk if she ever found out he’d bought her apartment building. She’d left her family behind once, and she was walking away from a promotion after this project was over. But she’d conceded on the building issue—it seemed she didn’t mind his involvement in her life as much as she’d like him to think.
    And her reaction to his touch spoke volumes…. He could still feel the effects sizzling through his bloodstream.
    A little time to smooth things over after this and then he’d make a move.
    Next step was to propose—properly this time. He’d do it in Sydney on their trip in one week.
    He leaned back in his seat. Everything he wanted was nearly within his grasp.
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    Macy stood on the ground floor of their office building with a woman from another company, waiting for the lift, a small pile of folders in her arms. While the other woman chatted about the weather, Macy covertly scanned the buzz of people in the foyer for Ryder.
    She’d successfully avoided being alone with him since the tour of the factory four days ago. Avoiding him was so much easier than saying no to him—something she knew she’d have to do soon though; Ryder Bramson wasn’t a man to give up easily. She just hoped she had enough strength to do it when the time came, and not give in to her body’s yearning.
    When the lift arrived from the basement level, the doors slid open and she saw two of the American team. And Ryder. The man who still haunted her dreams and filled her unguarded thoughts. She took a deep breath and steadied herself against his magnetic pull.
    Half a step behind the other woman, Macy entered and turned to face the doors, finding herself within touching distance beside her boss. Even without seeing him, she could feel his intoxicating presence, the primal masculinity that was barely hidden by the veneer of a businessman.
    â€œGood morning, Macy.”
    â€œHello, Mr. Bramson,” she returned with as much formality and professionalism as she could muster.
    From the corner of her eye, she saw him sink one hand into a trouser pocket. “Everything going well?”
    She was uncomfortably aware of their audience—the others in the lift had no choice but to listen in. And since the morning of the photo in the paper, the staff had discreetly watched whenever she and Ryder crossed paths.
    She wrapped her hands tightly around the folders in her hands and stood taller. “Everything is going very well, thank you.”
    They stopped at the first floor and the other woman waved goodbye and left. Macy held back a grimace. One less person acting as a buffer. The journey in the lift had never taken so long.
    â€œThe security staff aren’t too intrusive?” Ryder asked casually. But she wasn’t fooled—he was asking where they stood with their agreement that she’d accept his intervention on the security issue. She’d decided the day they’d discussed it at the factory that it was, in fact, his responsibility and it hadn’t bothered her since.
    â€œThey’ve been very courteous and helpful.”
    â€œGood to hear,” he said. “Tell me, how are things with my new acquisition?”
    She felt the interest from their onlookers increase, felt their yearning to grasp the