Breaking the Ice (St. James Family #0.5) by Lavender Parker

him up.  He was still reeling from the intoxication of her perfume when she decided to drop the bomb on him. His father was retiring.
    Instantly, everything fell into place for Christophe. His father insisting he come home. His father insisting he make a name for himself. But the kicker was that The Old Man hadn't even told him he was going to retire. Of course, his father would only tell Annata, his close confidante. Anger kicked Christophe in the gut.
    “Motherfucker,” he cursed. God, he must be the biggest fool on the planet. He knew now, he should have stayed in Brazil. His fate was sealed if he stayed here. The Old Man wouldn't give him any peace.
    “ Don't pretend you didn't know.” Annata swept around the table toward him. “It's a little too convenient.” Suddenly, she was so close. So close he could smell the sweet wine on her breath. Annata, tigress that she was, then went in for the kill. “I can only hope that your father isn't foolish enough to think his dilettante son capable of running International. That would be a mistake that could cost him his company.” She said with a cold smile. Before he could stop himself, his hand shot out and gripped the soft flesh of her arm.
    “ What makes you think I want it?” he said through clenched teeth.
    “ Please remove your hand,” she said in a dangerously low tone. He dropped his eyes. He couldn't stop them from wandering to her glorious cleavage. She jerked her arm, trying to free herself. Her breasts moved with her, straining against her dress. Involuntarily, he moved into her, pushing her ass against the table. She flashed a deathly look at him. What was he doing? Christophe didn't know, exactly. His body craved hers, that's all he knew. But he also knew she didn't feel the same. She didn't want him.
    Christophe finally dropped his grip on her arm. Frustrated, he slammed his hands on the table, on either side of her hips. “Don't worry about your precious company, Annata. I don't want it.”
    She crossed her arms, attempting to put more space between them. “You must think I'm an idiot.”
    “ Why do you hate me?” he asked, his face inches from hers. “What did I ever do to you?”
    “ You show up here, out of nowhere. You think you can just waltz in and take what's mine? What I worked for?” She jabbed a perfectly manicured finger into his expensive shirt.
    “ Actually, yes. I could.” He couldn't resist a smirk to emphasize his point. He spoke the truth and she knew it. Raising his hand,  he couldn't stop himself. He ran a finger around the neckline of her dress, grazing the silky soft heat of her breast.  His heart slowed in his chest. “I can take whatever I want.” He said. Her eyes widened. Her breasts swelled in her dress as she took a deep, stunned breath. God, he was such an asshole. He was going to hell. Silently, he asked for forgiveness.
    “ Fuck you, you smug son of a bitch!” The words rushed out of her mouth, her cool demeanor gone. Her eyes flashed, but he caught her wrist before she slapped him. Time stopped for a moment, as they stood inches from each other, panting. He could feel her pulse racing under his fingertips.
    He pushed his hips into her, forcing her further against the table. She gasped. His anger dissipated as he felt her womanly curves against him. Lust roared up and took its place. His dick swelled and hardened. He could kiss her if he wanted to. And God, he wanted to. He felt himself leaning toward her. Her golden-brown eyes caught his. She could feel his arousal now.
    “If you think I'm going let you win, you are sadly mistaken,” she said, quietly. He  sighed and pulled away.
    “ Why do we always end up here?” he asked softly. “All I wanted was to say hello, catch up, shoot the shit. But with you, it always has to be an argument.”
    “ Because, like you said, I hate you.” Annata said, her voice unsteady. She ran her hand down her dress, as if trying to destroy any evidence of their being