Читать книгу More Than Perfect - Day Leclaire - Страница 8

“You aren’t just a devil, you’re a total son of a bitch!”

Angie Colter’s head jerked up at the unmistakable sound of a hand striking flesh and she swiveled to stare at the closed door of her boss’s office—Lucius Devlin, owner and CEO of the Seattle based company, Diablo, Inc., a multibillion dollar business that specialized in buying and rehabbing commercial real estate. The next instant the door slammed open and Ella, the gorgeous redhead Angie had ushered in not ten minutes earlier, emerged. The woman had been Devlin’s latest in a long string, lasting a full two weeks. A record breaker among the spate of women her boss had seen over the past three months.

“I don’t know how you could possibly think I’d be interested in your insane proposal.” With that, she swept across the plush expanse of carpet on impossibly high heels, her backside twitching out her profound irritation as she headed for the private elevators.

Okay. That was interesting and added to Angie’s growing suspicion that something was up with Lucius. She hadn’t figured out what, but suspected the six-month-old baby he’d received guardianship of a short three months earlier was somehow responsible. The baby, Mikey, was the son of the former head of PR for Diablo, Geoff Ridgeway. He and his wife, Lisa, had died in a train wreck in Europe shortly before Christmas, appointing Lucius the guardian of their infant son. From the moment Angie had first taken Mikey into her arms, she’d fallen in love with the little guy. Maybe it was due in part to the faint ticking of her biological clock. More likely it was those huge dark eyes staring so gravely into hers. Whatever the cause, an emotion unlike any she’d ever experienced before had fisted around her heart and refused to let go.

Angie glanced toward Lucius’s office in open speculation. Initially, she’d thought her boss was searching for the perfect nanny, someone to replace the sweet-natured woman who’d accepted the job in a temporary capacity. But lately … Unable to contain her curiosity, she snatched up her electronic tablet and stylus. Crossing to the open doorway, she gave a brisk knock.

Her boss stood in profile, drowning a handful of ice cubes in scotch. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him sprawled the city of Seattle, modestly veiling its beauty behind a misty, gray morning. At six foot two Lucius “The Devil” Devlin possessed a powerful physique at odds with a job that required endless hours behind a desk. No doubt he’d spent some of his billions on a home gym, filled with the best equipment money could buy. And used it with the same ruthless efficiency that characterized everything else he did in his life. He was a gorgeous man with hair the color of soot and eyes as dark and mysterious as a moonless night. A man who could steal a woman’s breath without even trying. And the first time he’d tossed his devil-may-care smile in her direction, he’d stolen her heart … and quite possibly her soul.

Maybe that was why she’d committed the ultimate folly and fallen in love with him.

He glanced over his shoulder at her and frowned. “This isn’t a good time.”

The scowl snapped her back into focus. Ignoring his order, she stepped into the office. “Try using some of that ice on your jaw,” she instructed crisply. “It’ll help with the swelling.”

“She packs quite a punch for a woman.”

“I don’t doubt it. Ella can bench-press a hundred and a quarter.”

He swiveled to fully face her. “Get out. Seriously?”

“Dead serious. We go to the same gym. You’re even more lucky she didn’t use those Christian Louboutin heels on you. I’ve seen what she can do in our kickboxing class. She’d have skewered you like a shish kebab.”

“She never mentioned she knew you.”

Angie didn’t doubt it. That would involve connecting with someone of the female sex. Ella only had eyes for men. “I doubt she noticed me. I don’t exactly stand out.”

Lucius tossed back the scotch, then took her suggestion and pressed the iced glass against the red mark darkening his jaw. His gaze swept over her. Even though he stripped her with that swift look, it was in a—sadly—asexual manner. Not that it surprised her. She knew what he saw. She’d come to the conclusion long ago that she had a head for business and a bod for … well, business.

At five foot eight, she was as slender as a reed, her curves best classified as subtle. Granted, she possessed an attractive enough face and great hair, even if she did keep it confined in an elegant twist, the color containing every shade of brown known to man. But her most attractive feature were her eyes, a brilliant aquamarine that her former lover had called “unnerving.” Of course, that was right before he’d dumped her for her five-foot-two, blonde and buxom—former—best friend, whom he’d promptly married. Nine months later they produced the baby she’d dreamed of having with him, and that he’d claimed he not only didn’t want, but would never want. Maybe that was why Angie had chosen to throw every scrap of her time and energy into her career. While Britt was giving birth to Ryan’s baby, Angie secured the prime job as Lucius Devlin’s PA. She hadn’t quite decided who got the better deal, which told her that maybe her feelings for Ryan hadn’t run as deep as she’d thought.

“Ella didn’t notice you because you’re female,” Lucius stated, echoing her earlier thoughts. “Not because you don’t stand out. The right clothes, the right hairstyle—”

She stiffened, pricked by his careless dissection. The hazards of loving a man who saw you as a piece of equipment rather than a human being. Damn him. Her chin shot up and she pinned him with her “unnerving” gaze, pleased to have found some use for it. “Oh, wow. Advice from Lucius ‘The Devil’ Devlin on how to transform myself into the perfect woman. Wait now. Let me take notes.” She flipped her electronic tablet over and allowed the stylus to hover above it. “Please, Lucius. Don’t keep me waiting. Other than the right clothes and hairstyle, how else am I lacking?”

“Hell, woman.”

She narrowed her eyes at his use of the word woman, pleased to see him wince. Huh. Maybe she’d patent the look. It was certainly coming in handy. “You should know all about hell, Lucius.”

A grim expression closed over his face and he snatched up the cut glass decanter, splashing more scotch into his glass. “I should and I do.”

Despite the threatening storm clouds, Angie refused to back down. “I don’t doubt it.” She lifted an eyebrow in open challenge. “Anything else you’d care to add about my appearance?”

He took a long swallow, regarding her over the rim of his tumbler with intense black eyes. “Not a chance.”

“I didn’t think so.” She gestured toward his glass. “Put the ice back on your face or you’ll have to explain that bruise to your clients. I shudder to think what sort of nosedive your reputation will take when you’re forced to admit you were coldcocked by a woman.”

“That’s not how I’m going to tell the story.” Still, she couldn’t help but notice that he rested the glass against his jaw—an aching jaw if she didn’t miss her guess.

She offered an angelic smile. “No, but it’s how I plan to tell it.”

“How the hell could I have thought you’d make the perfect PA?” he snarled. “I must have been out of my mind.”

“Agreed.” Unable to contain her curiosity, she asked, “What in the world did you say to Ella that made her so mad?”

His annoyance intensified. “You would think it was my fault.”

“Do I owe you an apology?”

She could see the internal debate rage, before he settled on admitting the truth. “No, it was my fault. I made the mistake of proposing to her.”

Angie struggled to breathe. He couldn’t have hit her any harder if he’d been the one doing the kickboxing. “What?”

He glanced her way and blew out a sigh. “Oh, get over it, Colter. This isn’t high school. We’re not talking about some grand romance. Hell, I’ve only known the woman for two weeks. I made a business proposition that involved marriage and for some reason that ticked her off. Go figure.”

Her world righted itself and she found she could breathe again. It took a second longer to settle her face into something that passed for mild interest. Another few seconds to gain control over her vocal cords so she didn’t sound as shrill as a steam whistle. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized just how bad she had it, just how desperately she’d fallen for him. His brilliance. His innate kindness, a kindness he worked so hard to encase in a cold, tough exterior. The wealth of inexplicable pain buried in his eyes, and no doubt his heart. In the year and a half she’d worked for him, she’d gotten to know the man behind the reputation. And with that knowing had come the sort of love she’d only played at with Ryan, skating across the surface of the emotion without embracing the true depths and scope.

Gathering her control, she allowed a cool smile to drift across her mouth. “You’re right, Lucius. I can’t imagine why any woman in her right mind would find a marriage proposal phrased as a business proposition in the least offensive,” she commented drily. “Go figure.”

Lucius set his glass down with a decisive click that caused the ice to shiver in warning. He took a step in her direction and fixed her with a dark, impenetrable gaze. “You have an opinion to offer on the subject?”

She didn’t answer the question directly, didn’t dare. “Is this about Mikey?” She couldn’t help the softening that came into her voice when she said the name, any more than she could help the softening that invaded her whole being when she held the baby in her arms and imagined what it would be like to have something so precious come from her own body.

He hesitated and she could tell that he wanted to rip her apart in order to release some of his fury toward Ella. But he wasn’t the type to take his aggression out on an innocent. He gathered himself, banked the fire, then nodded. “Yes,” he admitted. “This is about Mikey.”

“You’re attempting to find someone who would make a suitable wife for you and a good mother for the baby?”

“Again, yes.”

“And you expected Ella to jump at the opportunity after a two-week courtship?”

His teeth came together with a snap. “I had my reasons for believing it a distinct possibility. Are you done with the cross-examination?”

He’d reached the end of his rope and she responded accordingly. “Absolutely.”

“Then may I suggest we get some work done? We still have to finalize the schedule for my meeting with Gabe Moretti.”

She touched the screen of her tablet and called up the pertinent information. “He’s agreed to go in on the Richter building with you?”

“Only if I give him majority interest.”

“No doubt,” Angie replied. “But if he remodels it the way he did Diamondt Towers, it’ll be well worth the investment, even with only a minority stake.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“No, it never is.” He was a man who needed to hold the reins. Unfortunately, so was Gabe Moretti. “Will Moretti concede the point?”

“We plan to meet and discuss terms.”

Meaning … no. Moretti had no intention of giving up majority interest, which suggested a showdown between titans. What she wouldn’t give to see that! She touched an app on the screen that accessed Lucius’s calendar. “Would you prefer a lunch meeting or dinner?”

He considered, took another sip of his refilled drink before returning it to his jaw. “Dinner on Friday. Let’s make it at Milano’s on the Sound. Speak to Joe personally about the menu, would you?”

She made a quick notation. “I’ll take care of it. Eight o’clock work for you?”

“Only if it works for you.”

Angie’s poise faltered for a telling instant before she gathered herself back up. “Sorry?”

“Now that Ella’s out of the picture, I’ll need you to attend with me. You’re one of the most observant people I know. I could use your input on this.” His smile drew attention to features devil-perfect and sinfully attractive, and her heart gave a sharp, painful tug. “Problem?”

She dragged her gaze away from his dark, angel beauty and focused on the tablet, pretending to make a quick notation. “I’ll check my schedule and get back to you.”

“Right. You do that.”

She let the hint of mockery wash over her. “Next. I have several calls from a Pretorius St. John. He indicated it was a private matter. Something about a computer program he was personalizing for you. If it isn’t anything you want me to deal with, I’ll forward it to your PDA.”

“Go ahead and do that.”

She hesitated. “That name is familiar for some reason. Should I know it?”

“It’s possible. His nephew is Justice St. John, the robotics wunderkind. Pretorius specializes in computer software.”

Wow. “Okay, color me impressed that you have a software inventor willing to tweak one of his programs in order to fit your personal specifications.”

“You know, there are some days I think you forget who you’re working for.”

“Oh, dear. Not again.” She made an exaggerated curtsy. “I do apologize, Mr. Devlin, sir. I promise I’ll be more careful in the future.”

“See that you are.” His eyes glittered with laughter while he studied her, curiosity spilling into the intense darkness. “I don’t intimidate you in the least, do I?”

“No.”

It was the truth. For some reason he didn’t and never had. That hadn’t been her problem, mainly because she’d been too busy fighting her attraction for him to worry about his standing in the business community. Instead, she’d done everything within her power to conceal her reaction whenever they accidentally touched. To hide how desperately she’d like to experience his hands on her. His mouth. His body covering hers with nothing between them but the damp sheen of want. She closed her eyes briefly, closed off those sort of painful, wayward thoughts—something that grew more difficult with each passing day—and fought to regain her equilibrium.

Lucius was a closed door to her. What she felt for him would never become a reality and the sooner she accepted that fact the sooner she could move on. Only one problem with that plan. She didn’t want to move on. She wanted … him.

To her eternal gratitude, Lucius didn’t appear to notice anything wrong. “Your self-possession and your natural way of behaving around me are two of the qualities I most appreciate about you.”

If he only knew. “Just two?” she managed to tease.

“Fishing for compliments, Colter?”

“You bet.” She pretended to cast a fishing line and reel it in, forcing out a careless grin.

“Fair enough.”

He approached, circling like a shark, unnerving her for the first time in the eighteen months they’d worked together. Until now he’d regarded her almost like a piece of office furniture. Useful. Functional. An integral, if replaceable, cog in the wheel that was Diablo. This time when he looked at her it was through a man’s eyes. Her amusement faded and it took every ounce of that self-possession he’d applauded only moments before to maintain her poise and keep a calm, cool expression on her face. Her grip tightened on the electronic tablet and stylus and she could only hope he didn’t notice the whitening of her knuckles or the tension pouring off her. Though, knowing Lucius, he not only noticed but would use it against her.

“Do you know why I picked you out of all the endless candidates to be my PA?” he surprised her by asking.

“Not a clue,” she admitted. “I’m good at my job, but so were the other applicants, I assume.”

“You’re wrong,” he said softly. “You’re not good. You’re great.”

He’d stunned her. When she’d first started working for him eighteen months ago, he’d chosen her from a pool of dozens of equally efficient and qualified PAs, women—and men—who were the best in the country. Granted, Angie had worked hard for the opportunity, particularly since she’d failed in just about every other area of her life. But Lucius Devlin could afford to hire the very best, and deep down she couldn’t quite convince herself that she was the best. And yet, here he stood, insisting she wasn’t just good, but great.

“Great,” she repeated faintly.

“Don’t get a swelled head, Colter. Though you were great when I interviewed you, there were others who were better.”

“Then why …?” Her eyes narrowed, the truth hitting like a tidal wave. After she’d been offered the position, she’d worked longer and harder than she thought physically possible, throwing herself into the job to justify having been chosen. No doubt that’s why he’d hired her. He knew she’d go the extra distance, knew on some level she’d been desperate enough to throw her heart and soul into the position. Maybe the other women hadn’t been quite as committed. The knowledge that he’d used her with such deliberation gave her heart a small, painful twist. She’d been used before by Ryan and vowed at that time to never allow it to happen again. The fact that it had been Lucius who used her hurt all the more. “Damn it, Devlin. That’s low, even for you.”

He picked up on her intensity, caught the ripple of pain in her soft words. “If I’d known you then as well as I know you now, I’d have chosen a different method. But I needed to work you—hard—to make sure we were a good fit.” An odd expression swept through his gaze, something she couldn’t quite identify, but that caused her pulse rate to kick up a notch. “And we are a good fit, aren’t we, Angie?”

Her mouth tugged to one side in a reluctant smile. “So far. But if you play me like that again, we won’t be any sort of fit.”

“Fair enough.” He shot her a quick grin. “Still, you have to admit it worked. Not only did it work, but you’ve more than proved yourself. You’ve exceeded even my high standards.”

“You’re welcome,” she murmured drily.

“That staggering paycheck you receive is my thanks. I’ll even throw in a bonus if you go out and buy something decent to wear to our dinner with Moretti. I want him so focused on you that his reputation for being all business, all the time, will take a serious beating. Thanks to you, I expect him to be less business and more man. Got it?”

“I wasn’t hired for that,” she retorted tightly.

“You were hired to do the jobs I assign you. That’s the current job.”

Now what? Did she admit that she wasn’t equipped to handle the current job? Or did she simply allow him to figure that out for himself? Because there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the level of excellence she exhibited at work perfectly balanced the level of mediocrity she exhibited in every other area of her life, particularly under the heading of male-female relationships. Hadn’t Ryan explained that to her in no uncertain terms when he “accidentally” tripped and fell naked on top of her best friend, Britt? And in their bed, no less. What had he told her …?

Oh, right. Though she had brains and business acumen in spades, but when it came to hearth and home—particularly the bedroom portion of the home—he found her decidedly lacking. Fair enough. She found Britt and Ryan’s concept of friendship equally lacking. That’s when she’d decided to stick to what she was best at … work. And she had, until she’d committed a huge error. That absolute no-no of no-nos. She’d fallen in love with the boss.

She spared Lucius a single, searing look. “I don’t know how, but I fully intend to make you pay for putting me through this humiliation.”

That stopped him. “You consider dinner out with your boss and a client humiliating?”

“No, I consider playing the part of a seductress for my boss and his client humiliating.”

Anger flared in Lucius’s dark gaze. “I don’t recall saying anything about seducing Moretti. Merely distracting him.”

“It’s not a role I’m comfortable with. And I resent being put in that position. You know damn well that’s not part of my job description.” She held up a hand before he could argue the point. “And don’t try and claim my job is whatever you tell me it is. That’s not going to fly with me. It’s whatever you tell me within the confines of the four corners of this office building. Period.”

Under any other circumstance, she would have found his look of pure masculine bewilderment and frustration amusing. Instead, it tempted her to follow Ella’s example and give him a good, hard smack upside his clueless head.

“You’ve attended business dinners before,” he protested.

“Not in the sort of role you’ve assigned for this one.”

He tossed back the last of his scotch and set the glass down with a sharp crack. “Fine. Show up looking like a piece of office furniture if that will make you feel better.”

Fury sparked, spilled over. “Office furniture?”

He stalked to the front of his desk, seized one of the twin chairs positioned there and swept it in a swift one-eighty. “Office furniture,” he repeated.

It took two full seconds to make the connection, to notice the simple white cream and black speckled fabric of the chair was an almost perfect match for the simple white cream and black speckled fabric of her suit. Hot color washed into her cheeks. Dear Lord. Earlier she’d thought he saw her as little more than a piece of office equipment rather than a human being. Apparently, that office equipment was furniture. Damn it! Maybe that was because she’d turned herself into office furniture.

When she’d first started work at Diablo, she’d deliberately chosen colors and designs that would help her blend with the background. Create the appearance of the perfect PA. Clearly, she’d taken the concept a step too far. Maybe a couple of steps too far.

“Well, hell,” she muttered.

“Exactly.”

She considered the problem for a moment. “How about this …? If I promise not to show up wearing chair upholstery, could I just be myself?” Something flickered to life in his eyes at the question. Sympathy? Compassion? She could only hope it wasn’t pity. “To be honest, I’m not cut out to play the part of Mata Hari.”

He inclined his head. “Fair enough. You can leave a few hours early tomorrow in order to purchase an appropriate dress and accessories. Save your receipts and I’ll reimburse the expense.” He checked his watch. “Keesha is due with Mikey at four, so I’ll need to have my desk cleared by then. Hold any calls unless they’re urgent. Oh, and don’t forget to forward the messages from Pretorius St. John.”

“Already done.”

He nodded in clear dismissal and Angie didn’t waste any time retreating to the outer office. She crossed to an antique table that held a coffee and tea service and helped herself to a restorative cup of hot tea. She didn’t know what had upset her more … Friday’s dinner, the fact that she’d transformed herself into a chair or the discovery that Lucius was actively looking for a wife.

Idiot! Of course she knew which upset her more. She was totally, ridiculously in love with a man who compared her to office furniture. How would she handle it if—when—he found a woman willing to marry him? If she were forced, day after day to watch the two enjoying the sort of marital bliss she’d always longed to experience? She closed her eyes. She knew how she’d handle it, what she’d force herself to do if—when—that event occurred.

If Lucius married, Angie would quit her job.

“Pretorius? Lucius Devlin here. We have a problem.”

A pained sigh slipped across the phone lines. “Don’t tell me the program still isn’t working.”

“The program still isn’t working.”

“Maybe you’re not waiting long enough before popping the question. How much time did you give this latest one?”

“Two weeks.”

“Two …” Pretorius sputtered. “Are you nuts? No woman in her right mind is going to agree to marry you after a two-week acquaintance. Why is it that brilliant men, men who are beyond adept at conquering their small corner of the world, think every other aspect of their life should be equally as simple and straightforward. Like I told Justice, these are women we’re talking about. Not robots. And not real estate.”

“My corner of the world isn’t small.”

Dead silence met his claim. Then Pretorius exploded. “That’s all you have to say?”

“No, I have quite a bit to say, starting with certain guarantees you made regarding the Pretorius Program. Your program was supposed to choose women receptive to the idea of marriage.”

“My program did choose receptive women. You were supposed to show some patience, remember? You’re just like Justice. You can’t just date for a couple days, or even a couple of weeks and then pop the question.”

“Why not?” Lucius spared a glance toward the door to his office, which Angie guarded with such skill and dedication. He couldn’t imagine a better employee. She’d become a vital part of his organization and he didn’t want to consider the possibility of ever losing her. “Your program helped me choose the perfect PA within that time frame. And Ms. Colter has proven to be an excellent employee.”

“We aren’t talking about an employee.” Frustration bled through the line. “We’re talking about a wife. The parameters for a wife are far more complicated than for an employee. In addition to personality issues and general likes and dislikes there’s physical and emotional compatibility. I need to assess each woman carefully and make sure that marriage to you and caring for an infant mesh with her long-term goals and desires. Otherwise you’ll find yourself dealing with an unhappy marriage, followed by a messy divorce.”

“I told you I don’t want any emotional involvement. I want a woman who will function in the capacity of wife and mother the exact same way Angie functions in the capacity of my PA.”

“Come on, Lucius. You’re being unreasonable and you know it. Why would any woman want such a cold, sterile marriage?”

Because he was cold and sterile. Because at the ripe age of twenty his father had died, and he’d allowed his desire for vengeance to rule his life. Because he didn’t trust. Was constantly watching for the next betrayal. How could you build a relationship when you refused to allow anyone in? When opening yourself up to someone guaranteed a wealth of pain?

Other than his father, Lucius had fully opened himself to one other person in his life. A brother in spirit, if not by blood. Geoff. And when Lisa had come between them, she’d destroyed what they’d once shared, utterly and finally. Had shut a door he now realized had been a vital part of his life. Now he stood adrift, a lonely rock in the middle of a tempestuous sea, solid in only one regard.

He would never trust again.

“Listen to me, Pretorius …. Why my future bride would accept a cold, sterile marriage is your problem, not mine. To be frank, I don’t give a damn so long as she’s a loving mother to Mikey and can create an efficiently run, beautifully appointed home. Someone who is comfortable entertaining clients. Now, I’ve submitted my order. You assured me you could fill it. So, fill it.”

Pretorius blew out a sigh. “Okay, fine. Give me a week to tweak the parameters some more. Then I’ll send you a new list. But I have to tell you … We’re running out of eligible women in the Seattle area.”

Okay, a negotiation. He knew everything there was to know about negotiating. “Then expand the search to the Northwest section of the country. Hell, open it up to the entire United States if it means I’ll have a wife within the next three months. You do that, I’ll throw in a nice, juicy bonus.”

“I may have to pull my assistant in on the project,” Pretorius said cautiously. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“Is he discreet?”

There was a long pause, then, “She can be bribed.”

“Fine. Then do it.”

“I’ll be in touch as soon as possible.”

“With a list of women that includes my future wife.”

Pretorius groaned. “Fine, fine. She’ll be on there.”

The instant Lucius disconnected the call, he crossed to the bank of windows overlooking a gray and rainy Seattle cityscape. It perfectly matched his mood. He planted his fists on his hips and lowered his head like a bull prepared to charge. Wanting to charge. Wanting to fight free of his current predicament.

How could Geoff do this to him? How dare he go and get himself killed, leaving Lucius with his and Lisa’s son. He didn’t want to be a guardian to the boy. How the hell was he supposed to raise him, turn him into the sort of man Geoff would have been proud to call his son, when it was so far beyond Lucius’s abilities? What had Geoff been thinking?

He picked up his glass of scotch and drank the last of it. He didn’t have the heart to be a father. Didn’t have the soul for the job. Couldn’t imagine years of playing the role of Dad to Mikey, despite having had the kindest, most loving father himself. The sort of father Mikey deserved. The sort of father Geoff would have been. It was so far beyond his scope and ability, he might as well have been asked to catch the moon in a butterfly net.

Damn it to hell! He swung around and heaved the glass across the room. The glass exploded, shattering against the wall, the dregs of scotch and ice raining down the wall like tears from heaven. So he would cheat. He’d hire someone—a wife—to take on his responsibilities. And he’d make her life so safe and secure and plush, she’d never leave him. Even though he couldn’t offer her everything a husband should, he could offer enough. A beautiful, richly appointed home. A man who could give her pleasure in the bedroom, even if he couldn’t give her love. A life filled with luxury, her every desire fulfilled, her every wish granted. It would be enough, wouldn’t it?

He glanced toward the door. Well, it would be enough for most women. Maybe not for his intrepid PA since her every wish and desire revolved around her excelling at her job. Now that he could understand. Understand and admire. Just thinking about her helped him gather himself. Relax. Realize that on this front, he was in control of his own destiny.

Thank God for Angie.