"Is that so?" Ryan's voice was soft, so low Sam had to strain to hear the words. His expression was closed off, so she couldn't really tell what he was thinking.

A flash of remorse went through Sam, and she wished she could take her last words back. No matter how much he'd screwed up, he didn't deserve to be told his job was on the line like that, especially on the same day he'd been demoted.

She cursed her need to always win. Growing up with two older brothers who loved bossing her around had cultivated a need to be the one to get in the last word in any argument, and that instinct had risen to the surface with Ryan.

She took a deep breath, knowing she needed to do something to ease the tension in the room.

"I shouldn't have said it that way," she replied, her tone placating. "Look, Mr. Silverton, I'm not here to..."

"How else should you have put it?" he broke in, eyes glittering dangerously.

Sam stared at him, a chill racing up her spine at the dangerous light in his eyes.

"What?"

He turned fully to face her now, taking slow measured steps in her direction. "How else would you have told me my fucking job was on the line?"

"I..." she stopped and bit her lip, knowing any reply would make things worse. If she told him she'd planned to break the news to him gently, he would assume she pitied him and a guy like Ryan Silverton would hate being pitied.

If only she could take the damn words back.

"I was wrong to use it as a threat," she continued, choosing her words with caution. "It was unprofessional, and I apologize."

His lips twisted in a bitter smile. "No, you're not sorry, are you Sameera? Admit it felt good to put the lazy rich kid in his place."

"Now, you're trying to put words in my mouth." she struggled to keep her tone even, hating how a part of his statement rang true.

She had assumed him to be a trust fund baby, playing at getting his hands dirty with common work and leaving when things got too tedious. The fact that the first time she'd met Ryan, he'd been passed out drunk in a pool of his own vomit had solidified that impression.

Ryan's eyebrows rose. "I'm only calling it as I see it. You sit there, in that tight little outfit, with your nose in the air and judge me based on what you think you know. Well, I hope you're satisfied now you've managed to show me who has the bigger stick up their ass. Now, if you don't mind, I have an office to run."

He spun round and marched out, leaving her staring after him, mouth agape.

The sound of the door closing drew Sam from her shock and she let out a breath she hadn't been aware of holding.

How did this get so out of hand?

Her mind kept reliving the hurt that had flashed across his face so quickly, she'd almost missed it. Her conscience twisted in her gut at the memory and she wondered why she'd let things get out of hand.

Yes, he'd come at her, guns blazing, but anyone, including Sam would have done the same if they'd found themselves face to face with a rival. She should have taken the high road and let him have the last word, but as usual she'd gone overboard.

Sam propped her elbows on the desk, and rested her head in her palms. She let out a frustrated groan and wished she could have a do over.

Antagonising the man she was supposed to work with for the next six months, was not how she'd meant to begin her first day here.

A tentative knock sounded on the door and her assistant peeked in.

"The guys over at security called and asked if you could drop by to pick up your passes."

Glad to have something to take her way from the tension still swirling in the office, Sam sprang to her feet.

"Thanks, I'll head down now. While I'm gone, could you please email me a comprehensive info on each staff?"

Smoothing down the skirt with palms that had gone sweaty, she remembered Ryan's description of her outfit. From his tone, she couldn't decide if he'd meant it as a compliment or an insult.

Why should I care what he thinks? She admonished silently, making her way to the bank of elevators. It's not like I dressed for him.

Bad enough the guy didn't even remember meeting her...that still kind of did things to her ego that she was unwilling to acknowledge.

Pushing the thought to the back of her mind, she stepped into the main workspace, the rows of glass partitioned cubicles filled with employees, engaged in their tasks for the day.

A hush fell as she navigated her way through, two dozen pairs of eyes fixed on her.

Sam pasted what she hoped was a warm smile on her face, slowing her steps so she could acknowledge the looks.

"Good morning." She called out to no one in particular.

A few answered her with greeting of their own with a smattering of welcoming smiles, while most simply nodded and turned back to their desks, though the hush had now given way to loud whispering.

She made a mental note to call for a meeting later, so she could formally meet the staff and gauge first impressions. It would also help to give insight when she began a more thorough assessment of each member of staff.

****

Her meeting in Security took all of thirty minutes, but Sam finally made her way back to P&D with her new access cards and codes. As she stepped in the elevator, a slender, dark haired beauty was already inside, a cup holder with two disposable cups clutched in one hand, phone in the other.

The woman looked up from her screen as Sam stepped in, blue eyes sweeping over her form in a way that missed nothing.

Full, ruby red lips thinned, eyes narrowed.

"You must be Ms. Bhatt." her voice sounded husky, bringing to mind a blues singer, belting out songs in a smoky voice.

Sam gave the woman a once over of her own and nodded. "I am. And you are?"

"Lola." she didn't elaborate further, merely stepped forward to hit the button for the twelfth floor. The temperature in the car dropped a few degrees as Lola shot Sam another look, and turned back to her phone.

The name sounded familiar, but for a moment, Sam couldn't place where she'd heard the name.

"Do you work in P&D?" Sam asked, still trying to place the name to an identity.

For several seconds, she thought Lola would ignore the question as the woman took her time typing something one handed, before she looked up.

"Yes."

Okay then, someone was not in the mood for conversation.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Lola. Please call me Sam."

"Okay."

The doors swished open and Lola stepped out, long legs that ended in four inch black stilettos taking her away without a backward glance.

Sam sighed, feeling the beginnings of a headache. Working here was going to interesting. She stepped out as well and made to go back to her office when it hit her who Lola was.

Jane had mentioned asking Ryan's assistant for access to the project files and had given the woman's name as Lola. Suddenly, the open hostility in the elevator made more sense, though Sam couldn't help wondering if the gorgeous woman had merely been reacting out of loyalty to her boss...or something else.

Something personal

Sam shook her head to clear her thoughts. It was none of her business if Ryan Silverton chose to carry on with his assistant. Her aim here was to ensure the department got back on its feet and not to obsess over whom he may or may not be having romantic relations with.

Stepping out of the elevator, Sam hurried after the assistant. She caught up with Lola just as she entered what appeared to be a small kitchenette.

"Excuse me, Lola?"

The assistant turned, a hint of surprise in her eyes. "Can I help you?"

"I assume, you're Ryan's assistant, right?"

Lola studied her through narrowed eyes. "Yes?"

Sam smiled, keeping her tone mild yet authoritative enough to let the woman know she wasn't up for catty games. "The project files. I understand I need special permission to access them and that you might be able to help me."

Lola set down the cups on a counter and strode to the fridge, retrieving a wrapped sandwich. "You do need access to the database, but I'm not the one to give you that. You'll have to ask Ryan."

Sam had a feeling Lola was perfectly capable of giving her the access codes, but just wanted to make her jump through hoops first. Still, she thanked her and left the kitchenette, heading towards Ryan's office.

Her pulse sped up with every step that brought her closer to the mahogany door at the thought of yet another confrontation with the unnerving man and she almost turned the other way to her own office.

Maybe it was possible to avoid confrontation altogether if she simply went to Bradford himself and asked him to order his son to grant her access?

The idea was dismissed as quickly as it came. Going over Ryan's head would only heighten the tension. Plus, it might give Bradford the impression she was incapable of handling internal issues.

What is the matter with you? You can't let one confrontation get in the way of doing your job. He's not going to bite for Pete's sake.

Steeling her resolve, she knocked and waited with bated breath for a reply. Getting none, she tried again, louder this time in case he hadn't heard her. Still getting no reply, Sam tried the handle, surprised when it gave with an audible click and swung open, revealing an office that was larger and even more luxurious than hers.

"Ryan?" Sam called, stepping into the office. Her gaze scanned the room, but there was no sign he was in here. She shut the door and walked in, heels clicking on the dark, marble floor.

Her gaze swept over the room, appreciating the even more impressive view from the glass walls, sunlight filtering through white, flimsy curtains, bathing the room in golden hues. One end of the room had floor to ceiling shelving, black shelves, filled with books and journals.

A large fireplace, occupied another end, circled by a black leather sofa and matching armchairs.

Ryan's desk - an enormous piece of glass and dark wood, surrounded by identical ergonomic white chairs was neat and cluster free, the only item on it, an open laptop. Compelled by curiosity, Sam moved towards it, reminded of why she had come in the first place.

She reached out to touch and paused, struck by the inappropriateness of the act. Much as she wanted those files, checking his laptop in his absence was not the way to go about it. She bit her lower lip and stepped back, just as a framed photograph on the desk caught her eye. She leaned close, pushing stray tendrils of hair off her face to study the faces in the picture.

A man and woman stood together, an arm each slung over the other's shoulder, smiling into the camera. She instantly recognised the man as Ryan – a much younger and blonder version – and it struck Sam how happy he looked. The woman, also blonde resembled him and Sam guessed it must be his twin sister.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Sam shrieked.

Her heart lodged in her throat as she turned at the furious voice. She whipped around so fast she nearly lost her balance, barely managing to grip the edge of the desk to keep from face planting on the floor. Her eyes flew up to the source of the voice and her mouth went dry.

Ryan – a half naked, absolutely glorious older version of the man in the picture - stood by a door she only just noticed. Sam wrenched her gaze from his face, letting her gaze travel down to his torso, bare save for the towel draped around his neck - his stomach muscles lean and set in a six-pack to rival any male model Sam had ever seen.

Her heart, which had frozen for a moment, resumed beating, faster and harder than ever as she felt her legs go weak from the momentary lack of air. A drop of water rolled its way down those steel like abs and Sam moistened her lips as her gaze trailed after it. She swallowed, thankful when the trail vanished underneath a pair of boxer shorts riding low on his hips... Not that it was hard to imagine what else lay underneath if the rapidly growing bulge was anything to go by.