He studied Blake a moment, his expression inscrutable. “It’ll be delivered to your hotel by end of day. How do you want to start?”
“I’ll visit the restaurants here locally. How many are there?”
“Three in San Francisco, but, of course, in Los Angeles and San Diego we have extensive operations. More than fifty restaurants.”
“You said you knew there was a problem your head of security couldn’t identify. Why are you so certain you were right and he was wrong?”
“Discrepancies in reports.” Mendez punched his intercom before Blake could ask for clarification. “Come to my office, Kara.”
The door opened almost instantly. “Yes, Mr. Mendez?”
Blake tensed at the soft, musical note of Kara’s voice from behind him that too easily stirred memories of her naked in his arms, and of the soft little purrs of pleasure sliding from her lips. Damn it, what was it about this woman that got to him? He’d spent two years living in the fast lane, in and out of women like they were a drive-thru, living for short-term highs and quick escapes. None of them did this to him. Not one. Just her.
Mendez motioned her forward. “Join us, Kara.”
Blake heard the swish of her skirt behind him a moment before she appeared at the side of the desk. His gaze lifted, skimming her petite but curvy hips hugged by the snug black skirt she wore, and he remembered in far too vivid detail how well she fit pressed against him. His dick pressed thickly against his zipper, his body betraying him, uncaring about what a lying, conniving bitch she’d turned out to be. And she was. He couldn’t afford to believe anything else.
“Kara’s intimately aware of our situation,” Mendez announced, “which is why I’m loaning her to you for the duration of your stay.”
Intimately. The word ground through every nerve ending Blake owned and he wondered exactly how affectionate she’d been with Mendez. “How intimately?”
Her brown eyes shot to his, and to his surprise he found a hint of indignation, as if she read his thoughts and wasn’t pleased. And damn it, there was a genuineness to her emotion, a wounded animal look deep in the depths of her stare, that twisted him in knots. For some ridiculous reason, he clung to the belief that Mendez, or maybe even Alvarez himself, held something over her, or she wouldn’t be here. But a victim wouldn't have had the skills to pull off Denver any more than a simple secretary would.
“I’m the one who discovered the discrepancies in reports that told us there was an inventory problem,” she explained of her involvement.
He arched a brow. “Were you now?”
“Yes.” Her eyes held his. “I was.”
Blake stared at her, and damn it, he didn’t like how easily he could keep staring at her. He cut his gaze to Mendez. “How long has Kara been with you?”
“I’ve been with the company for six months,” she answered herself, drawing his attention back to her.
“And already making a name for yourself,” he commented dryly, and watched her delicate little hands, hands that he knew to be soft and incredibly talented, curl around a pad of paper with a white-knuckle grip that confirmed just how nervous he was making her. Good. She should be nervous. He wondered how many men she’d slept with to get to this level of trust this quickly.
“Mr. Wright will have level 5 security access,” Mendez instructed Kara. “He’ll be taking on the role of new head of security as of tomorrow morning. See to it he’s well taken care of. Whatever he needs or wants, I expect you to ensure he gets.”
To her credit, Kara appeared cool, collected, and unfazed by the command that put her in the hands of a man she’d both f**ked and f**ked over, because she had to know he wasn’t going to just let it go.
“Of course,” she agreed coolly, her gaze flicking to her bosses. “Is there an office I should assign Mr. Wright?”
Blake pushed to his feet. “Whatever office you assign me I won’t be occupying. I’ll, or rather we’ll, be working incognito, which means we’ll be using my hotel room. Unless, of course, you have a problem with that?”
There was a subtle shift in her posture, a stiffening of her spine. “No. No problem at all. Whatever you need, Mr.Wright—”
“Blake,” he corrected. “As far as I’m concerned, sharing a hotel room wipes out formality. Don’t you agree?”
Her chest rose and fell before she dodged a direct reply and simply said, “Blake.”
“Arrange a 4Runner for Mr. Wright’s use,” Mendez directed, clearly keeping up his end of formality, “and buzz us when it’s ready.”
“Yes, sir,” Kara said. “I’ll get right on it.” She flicked a look at Blake. “Anything else you need immediately?”
“Plenty,” he commented, “but we’ll take it one thing at a time.”
A muscle in her creamy white throat rippled. “Then I’ll get the vehicle handled.” She flicked Mendez a look. “Is there anything else?”
“No,” he said. “You’re free to go.”
She headed for the door and Blake was eager to follow, his blood pumping at the promise of the nice long chat the two of them were going to have, where clothing was most definitely optional. In fact, clothing wasn’t optional at all. He was going to strip her naked so she had no place to hide another dose of whatever she’d drugged him with last week.