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‘Yes, on WomanBWarned. Do you know that website, Nadia?’
In less than the micro-second it took for her to gasp, shock had covered her body in goosebumps. Every inch of her skin screamed with sensitivity; every cell was shot with adrenalin. She let another second slide, and as it did she decided to avoid—then feign ignorance. And if that failed she’d deny, deny, deny.
‘Was there something you needed today, Mr Rush?’
‘Yes, I wanted to be sure about the internet policy here at Hammond, and apparently you’re the HR expert on it.’ He didn’t seem to move, but he was somehow even bigger, filling the room with ferocious energy. ‘Tell me,’ he said drily, ‘does your employer know you run one of the bitchiest, most defamatory sites on the internet?’
Nadia’s throat tightened as if a hangman’s noose had just been jerked, rendering speech impossible.
‘It wouldn’t do your little HR role much good if your bosses found out about your hobby, would it? Not when you’re sending out these little edicts to all their employees about online protocol. Not in a great position to give advice, are you?’
Nadia firmed her jaw—she resented the “hobby” description.
He pulled a paper from his pocket and unfolded it, placing it in the table. She glanced at the heading, and then back up to his simmering countenance. She didn’t need to read more because she’d written most of it. The internal memo on internet access and computer use, explicitly detailing that social networking sites, forums and such, were forbidden. She’d drafted the updated policy before getting it approved by Legal and her supervisors.
‘Where did you get that?’ And how on earth had he tracked her down?
‘I find it so ironic that you deliver seminars to the other employees about protecting their online presence and reputation when you’re so vicious in cyberspace yourself.’
‘Do you have a point, Mr Rush?’ She curled her toes and tensed her muscles. She wanted to escape but refused to run away. Because she really needed to know what his point was. Despite her hammering heart, she told herself to keep calm. She was safe. She’d never used Hammond computers for her forums and she never would—her job mattered too much.
‘What do you think, Nadia? Why am I here?’
She shrugged her shoulders slightly. ‘No reason I can think of. Unless you wish to discuss possible employment at Hammond, I don’t think we have anything to say to each other.’
He smiled as he surveyed her. Sitting back in his seat, he was now completely at ease, as if he was the one who worked here, and not total stranger who’d just come in off the street. And he was completely gorgeous, in an all-male, all-arrogant way.
Oh, yes—woman be warned. She knew his type—too good-looking for his own good. A spoilt playboy who’d been outed as a two/three/four or more timer for sure. And he wasn’t happy about it? Too bad.
His eyes compelled her to answer his challenge. Fire burned in them—literally a touch of russet in the cinnamon iris—impossible to ignore.
But she’d damn well try. ‘You might be twice my size, but you don’t intimidate me. You can take your threatening attitude elsewhere.’
‘Threatening?’ He laughed. The sound spiked the air with danger. ‘I’m not here to threaten, Nadia. I’m here to extract a promise.’
She quickly touched her tongue to the inside of her dry lips.
‘The thread about me is defamatory,’ he said bluntly.
‘Well …’ She forced a smile. ‘The defence to defamation is truth.’
‘That’s right,’ he agreed.
‘So you’re saying what’s on there isn’t the truth?’
‘That’s right.’
She shrugged. ‘So prove it.’
Six seconds passed by. Her senses had suddenly grown so acute she could hear the hand of her tiny watch ticking, so she knew exactly.
‘You don’t think that’s the wrong way round Nadia? In a free and just legal system a man is innocent until proven guilty. But in the little world you’ve created he’s guilty until proven innocent. You don’t see a problem with that?’
She shot him a look designed to wither. ‘The men detailed on my site are guilty.’
His answering glare was withering and then some. ‘You don’t accept that it might be open to abuse? You don’t think a woman with a vendetta might take advantage of it?’
‘A woman with a vendetta? Please—men like you made up that kind of stereotype.’
‘So you’re not a woman who was hurt by some man and seeking payback? That isn’t why you set this thing up?’
Her temper flared. ‘I set this up so people had access to information. All kinds of information.’
‘Because all men are bastards?’
‘Information about dating in the modern world,’ she corrected. But this conversation was futile. He was never going to understand—clearly his outsize ego was too bruised. ‘I don’t need to justify myself to you.’
‘Oh, I think you do.’ He leaned forward. ‘I think you need to justify your actions to a lot of people. And why won’t you come clean about it? Why hide behind online anonymity? Your employers here don’t even know.’
She glanced out of those windows, wishing they were solid walls now. Of course they didn’t know. They’d totally disapprove. They stressed online responsibility and reputation—it was what she taught every new recruit. And she did not want to jeopardise her job. She’d worked too hard to get it.
‘I don’t cheat,’ he said firmly. ‘And I don’t swindle naïve girls out of their life savings. So why am I on there?’
‘You’ve obviously hurt someone.’ And she’d be reading the thread to find out how, the second she got the chance.
‘So where’s my right of reply?’
‘You can post a rebuttal. You just have to register and log in.’
‘What? And give myself an anonymous identity like the shrews on there?’ He shook his head. ‘I think you need to take ownership of the site that you’ve created. You need to take responsibility for the accuracy of the content and for the damage that can ensue from it.’
‘In what way has it damaged you?’ He struck her as bulletproof.
He paused. ‘Reputation is an unquantifiably precious thing.’
She knew that. ‘So what do you want?’
He sat back in his seat, the back of his fingers brushing his mouth and jaw. She tried very hard not to follow the movement and focus on that mouth with its full lips. Instead she tried to meet his gaze—except it seemed it had wandered.
She watched, steaming up, as he looked at her mouth, her neck, her chest. She saw the deepening fire in his expression and felt the response inside herself—her muscles shifting as hormones rushed. Beneath her blouse her breasts tightened.
Of course her body would react to just a look from this too handsome playboy stud. Her mating instinct was so off.
Slowly his lashes lifted and he captured her gaze with his gleaming one. ‘I guess if I have to prove it, then I’ll prove it.’
‘How are you going to do that?’ And why was she suddenly whispering?
‘Three dates,’ he said, just as softly.
‘Pardon?’
‘You and I are going to go out on three dates. You’re the judge, jury and the executioner, right? So judge me on the facts. I’ll prove to you that what’s up on your site is untrue.’
She laughed—only one note lower than hysterical. It was preposterous. ‘I’m not dating you.’
‘It’s that or call your lawyers.’ His gaze coasted over her again, assessing in the most base way. ‘Got lots of money for lawyers, Nadia? No, of course you don’t. Otherwise why would you be working as a lowly HR assistant?’
‘The users of my forum sign a waiver.’ She tried to recover her ground. ‘I can’t be held responsible for what they put up there.’
‘It’s so convenient for you to hide behind that rule, isn’t it? I think it could be due for a test in court, though.’ He smiled sympathetically. ‘And it’ll take months. All that time off work … Everyone here at work is going to know, Nadia. And your family, friends.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘They don’t know either, do they?’ He went for the kill. ‘You’re going to need good lawyers for a long and expensive time, honey.’
‘You’re willing to waste that money yourself?’ Her stomach churned. He couldn’t be serious. Surely he wouldn’t do that?
‘I don’t think it is a waste. Anyway, I am a lawyer, I can represent myself.’
Of course he was a lawyer. He was every inch an aggressive, adversarial jerk. Well, he wasn’t going to intimidate her. She swallowed back the bile burning its way up her throat. ‘I’m not taking your thread down. It’s freedom of speech.’
‘Actually, I don’t want you to take it down,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Let’s face it, once things are out there on the web they’re out there for ever. What I want is a retraction.’
‘Then you need to contact the woman you slimed, not me.’ He didn’t need to involve her at all. Three dates? It was ridiculous.
‘They’re anonymous—I don’t know who they are.’
They? Oh, how very nice. ‘And you can’t figure it out because there are so many possibilities?’ She widened her eyes in fake surprise. ‘Be honest.’ She snapped into attack mode. ‘What you really want is a suck-up piece, going on about how fabulous you are in bed.’
‘You’re offering to sleep with me so you can report with accuracy?’
Her face went hot. So did every other part of her body.
‘I don’t need your approval to know my worth as a lover, Nadia. What I want is an acknowledgement that sometimes people put things up there with a warped perspective. Although what I really want is for you to pull the plug on this poisonous swamp of bitterness altogether.’
‘That’s not going to happen.’
‘Being a bitch is that important to you?’
She shrugged. ‘If warning other women about jerks who want to use them makes me a bitch, then I’m happy to be considered one. For a long time.’
‘So how do you know what they put up is accurate?’
‘Why would anyone lie?’ It was simple. ‘I’ve already told you these aren’t women with a vendetta. These are women who’ve been hurt really badly.’
‘Women like you?’
She froze for a nano-second. ‘It isn’t personal for me.’
‘Like hell it isn’t.’
Grimly, she hid her fists beneath the desk and tried to think of a way out. But she was backed into a corner and she knew it. ‘Okay, then. You want three dates? Fine. But we go Dutch.’
He winced theatrically, but that didn’t hide the satisfaction in his eyes. ‘Yeah, you would be that crass.’
‘I wouldn’t want to feel I owed you anything, Mr Rush. Or that you expected anything from me because you bought me an expensive dinner.’
‘Actually, I’m expecting quite a lot from you Nadia.’ He smiled with genuine amusement. ‘And call me Ethan.’
She stood up and walked to the door, because if she didn’t her anger was going to burst out utterly inappropriately. He stood too. She saw him take in her height and glance down to register the height of her heels. She just knew he was mentally calculating the difference if the shoes were off.
‘Very dangerous things come in small packages,’ she said tightly.
He grinned—the patronising, “amused by the little girl” grin that she’d seen way too many times in her life.
‘So do very precious things,’ he countered softly.
She didn’t see him the rest of the way out. Couldn’t. The wave of heat all but blinded her. Half fury, half something else altogether. Oh, yes, he deserved to be on WomanBWarned, even if he wasn’t a bona fide candidate. He’d trample hearts without any effort whatsoever.
But not hers. Never, ever hers.
CHAPTER TWO
WomanBWarned
Top tips for surviving the dating jungle. What not to do on your first date …
Don’t drink—at least not much. Alcohol impairs judgment and you want to make safe, sensible decisions.
Don’t be too sexual—if it’s a possible relationship you want, not a one night hook-up, then keep a little mystery. You want to be taken seriously.
Don’t go on and on about your ex(es) or your ailments or how awful your boss is. Negativity is a downer.
Don’t go to the movies—it’s a cop-out. You want to get to know the person, not sit next to them in silence for two hours.
Don’t try too hard—just relax and be yourself.
ETHAN sprawled on the sofa in his apartment and laughed as he read, his laptop balanced his stomach. Oh, boy! OlderNWiser—the online pseudonym for one Nadia Keenan—really had her rules, didn’t she? There were a ton of little blog bits on her site, giving tips for this and that in the dating realm. As if she was some kind of expert.
He so didn’t think so.
The woman needed a lesson or fifty from a true master. And he knew just how he was going to do it—by taking over her own turf, of course. Fighting fire with fire and all that. Because anyone could set up a blog, right? And fortunately he was partner at a firm that didn’t have uptight HR princesses like Nadia Keenan. His firm believed in treating adults like adults, and didn’t care about what personal things employees decided to put up on the internet. There were no draconian, moralistic guidelines attempting to govern their workers’ private lives. So long as it wasn’t work-related, and didn’t impact negatively on the business, they weren’t interested. If the people he did deals with stumbled across it they’d most likely laugh and cheer him on. They were human, with senses of humour.
Yeah, it wasn’t because of his work that he was bothered by her reputation-shredding website. For him, it was the core injustice of having to prove innocence instead of guilt. That violation of a fundamental legal principle. Okay, there was an element of the personal too. They’d picked on the wrong Rush. Ethan didn’t deserve to be slated—it was his father who was the jerk. And Ethan refused to be anything like his father—not fickle, not deceitful, not hurtful. Ethan might play, but he was up-front and honest about it, and always nice to the women whose company he enjoyed. Mind you, he didn’t feel like being nice to Nadia Keenan.
He logged onto one of the major blogging sites and thought for a second about a title.
GuysGetWise?
Fantastic—not registered, and his to use.
And his tagline?
