Chapter Four
“A ll buttoned up again, I see.”
Angie offered Lucius a cool smile, one she’d practiced endless times over the weekend in order to get it just right. “Same as always.”
He didn’t say the words, but she could hear them loud and clear: Not always.
Just as she’d rehearsed for endless hours to perfect her demeanor and how she intended to act when she returned to work and came face-to-face with Lucius again, she’d also agonized over her clothing. She didn’t dare select anything that remotely resembled upholstery. But she also didn’t want to wear anything too suggestive. Not that she owned much that could be considered in any way, shape or form the least suggestive. Still, it made choosing the perfect outfit a challenge.
She’d finally settled on a crisp brown suit and café au lait blouse. And though she’d ultimately decided to wear her hair up, it was in a looser style than usual. She looked professional, yet approachable, she decided. The epitome of the perfect PA.
Despite that, Lucius’s gaze swept her, stripped her. His eyes glittered darkly, the memory of their embrace lurking there like a menacing shadow. He held her with that single powerful look for a long, tense moment before his mouth curved upward in a knowing smile. “Buttons won’t work anymore. I know what you’re hiding underneath them.”
With that, he disappeared into his office, leaving her with a half-dozen sharp comebacks blistering her tongue, all unspoken. Later, she promised herself. If he made one more comment, she’d cut loose with every single one of them. To Angie’s relief, the morning swept toward midday without Lucius making any more suggestive observations. Instead, he filled her schedule to overflowing with a laundry list of endless tasks. Shortly before lunch, she glanced up to see an older couple approaching her desk.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Ridgeway.” As always, she was careful to offer them a warm, friendly smile. “Did you have a good weekend with your grandson?”
“Michael was fussy.”
As usual it was Benjamin who responded, Geoff’s mother cloaking herself in painful silence. Grief continued to hang on the pair, carved deep into their faces and making them appear far older than their early sixties. It had been a rough three months for them, their pain and bitterness deepened by the intense dislike they’d felt toward Geoff’s wife, and the blame they heaped on her for their son’s premature demise. It didn’t make the least sense to Angie, but apparently they felt that the two wouldn’t have died if Lisa hadn’t insisted on a European vacation as a combination Christmas present and second honeymoon.
For some reason that blame also extended to Lucius and she couldn’t help but wonder if they’d somehow discovered that he’d had a sexual relationship with Lisa, as well—knew and in some emotion-riddled, illogical fashion held him responsible for Geoff’s death, too.
“Michael needs a more regular routine,” Benjamin continued. “Consistent parenting. Passing him around like a football isn’t helping.”
To her shock, Tabby Ridgeway spoke up, the first time she’d ever directly addressed Angie. “It won’t be for much longer. Our grandson belongs with his own kind, assuming his responsibility for carrying on the Ridgeway line, not raised by a man who puts his career ahead of family, who puts riches before everything else in his life.” Her cold gaze reflected the determination sweeping through her voice. “We’ll be awarded custody soon enough and then we’ll make sure Geoff’s son is raised right. Raised to overcome the stigma of having an amoral gold digger for a mother. Raised to resist the temptation his father couldn’t.”
Angie stiffened and it took every ounce of self-control to answer civilly, though it cost her. Still, she didn’t dare say or do anything that risked putting Lucius’s guardianship in jeopardy. “I know you’re all trying your best under very difficult circumstances. Do you need to see Lucius before you leave?”
Benjamin took over again. “We do need to see him, yes.”
“I’ll let Lucius know you’re here,” she offered. “Why don’t I take Mikey for you?”
“Keesha hasn’t arrived, yet?”
Angie caught the disapproval sliding through the question and deflected it with practiced calm. “It’s always a pleasure to spend time with your grandson. I don’t mind in the least.”
The couple reluctantly allowed her to take the baby, who reached eagerly for her in clear recognition. The instant she cradled him in her arms, he grinned, grabbing at her finger and tugging it toward his mouth. Who knew she’d be such a natural with babies? Delight filled her. She’d always wanted her own children, longed to experience motherhood. But part of her—the part Ryan had taken such cruel pleasure in giving a good, swift kick—agonized over her own inadequacies. She’d ended up believing that, like in all things domestic, she wasn’t capable of adequately parenting a child. Thank goodness the brief amounts of time she’d spent with Mikey had proven otherwise. A fierce determination welled up in her. She would make a great mother, and she wouldn’t ever allow anyone to convince her otherwise.
Suddenly aware of the Ridgeways’ intense gaze, she glanced at them. “Would you care for coffee or tea?” she asked belatedly, forcing her expression to relax into calm, dispassionate lines.
Before they could respond, the door to Lucius’s office opened. He filled the threshold with forbidding power, as dark as the Ridgeways were fair. “Tabby, Benjamin. Good to see you.”
It was a lie, Angie knew. In fact, they all knew it, but with the threat of a pending lawsuit, Lucius worked hard to keep their encounters low-key and polite. While he escorted the Ridgeways into his office, Angie indulged her maternal instincts. Mikey was a gorgeous baby and definitely took after his mother—no doubt an unfortunate turn of events from the Ridgeways point of view.
Mikey gazed up at her with huge inky eyes and offered a drooling grin that proudly showed off two pearly-white bottom teeth. He’d worked hard on them this past month and she suspected was working on another, which probably explained his fussiness over the weekend. She crossed to the wet bar and dampened a washcloth she kept on hand. He snatched it from her and stuffed it in his mouth, biting energetically on the cold cotton. She slid a hand down his plump, silken cheek and shook her head.
“Poor little mite. Everyone wants you, though I suspect it’s for all the wrong reasons.”
For the Ridgeways it was their final connection to their son—a son with whom they’d been estranged following his marriage to the “amoral gold digger” they so despised. For Lucius it was a promise made to his best friend, and a keen sense of honor and duty that demanded he fulfill that promise.
While most would have thought that was the full extent of his feelings toward Mikey, over the past several weeks, Angie had caught a glimpse of something more. Something deeper. Something more powerful. And she couldn’t help but wonder if it wasn’t because Lucius finally realized that the baby was the embodiment of the two people he loved most in the world, that their spirit continued to live through Mikey. She could only hope so.
The phone rang and she used her headset to answer, leaving her hands free to care for the baby. “Diablo, Inc. Mr. Devlin’s office. This is Angie Colter speaking. How may I help you?”
“I thought this was the main man’s private line.” The voice was female, unquestionably young and brash. And oddly intriguing. “How come you’re answering?” she demanded.
“Mr. Devlin is currently in a meeting,” Angie explained. “The calls are routed to me whenever he’s unavailable to take them.”
“Huh. Most hotshot billionaires I know just use voice mail.”
The comment gave Angie pause. The caller sounded more like a teenager than a grown woman. How many hotshot billionaires did the average teenager know? “I guess you could say I’m Mr. Devlin’s voice mail. Beep.” Not very professional, but something about the caller brought out the imp in Angie.
Sure enough, the girl chuckled. “Okay, fine. This is Jett. I’m working with Pretorius St. John on a top secret program for your boss man.” The information had Angie nudging Jett’s age a little higher, though she still sounded more like a teen than twenty-something. “You in the know about it or should I aim for enigmatic?”
Angie hesitated and Mikey chose that moment to smack her with the washcloth. And that’s when two bounced against two and exploded into a huge glittering four. Her gaze fastened on Lucius’s office door and she replayed that long-ago scene with Ella in her head.
“I don’t know how you could possibly think I’d be interested in your insane proposal.” And what had Lucius said afterward? She flipped through her memories from that day and keyed in on the one she needed. That he’d proposed to Ella after only knowing her for two weeks. “I made a business proposition that involved marriage and for some reason that ticked her off. Go figure.” And then a little later Angie had told him, “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.”
She shook her head in disbelief. No. No, it wasn’t possible. A wife? Was that what the parade of women over the past three months had been about? Why he’d proposed to Ella after just two short weeks? Not even a man as determined and ruthless as The Devil Devlin would implement such an outrageous plan…would he? Angie fought to gather her thoughts into a coherent whole, keenly aware her caller was waiting for her response.
Maybe if she asked a few careful questions, she’d be able to confirm or refute her suspicions. Preferably refute them. “Is this about the program Mr. St. John is fine-tuning for Lucius?” she asked cautiously.
“Yup.”
Angie closed her eyes, struggling to control her breathing, struggling even harder to keep her voice level and matter-of-fact. Please be wrong. Please, please be wrong. Because if she wasn’t, she couldn’t keep her job. Wouldn’t. Not if Lucius married. Not when she loved him. She refused to stay in a job where every day would be an exercise in sheer torture.
“This program…” She trailed off, steeling herself to ask the unthinkable. “It’s the one to help him find a…a wife?”
“Okay, so you’re in the know. Guess you’d have to be, considering that’s how he picked you. See, here’s the problem—”
“Wait,” Angie ordered. This just got more and more bizarre. “Back up. He used this same program to hire a PA? To hire me? ”
“Well, sure. That’s what the Pretorius Program was originally designed for. To help people like Mr. Devlin hire top-notch assistants. Or apprentices. But then when Justice wanted an apprentice/wife, Pretorius tweaked it a bit.”
“Apprentice… wife? ” Was she joking?
“Yeah, it was a bit weird, but it all worked out in the end. Now Uncle P.’s got this side business going. Too busy to find a wife on your own? Let our program find her for you. So we’ve been on the lookout for a wife for Mr. Devlin for the past three months. Heck, we’d even be happy if we could find him an apprentice/wife.” A frustrated sigh issued through the earpiece. “But unlike most of our clients, he’s proving sort of tough to satisfy. We’ve selected tons of women for him, but for some reason none of them are right. Just between us girls, I’m beginning to think it’s him. Know what I mean? Every time we turn around he’s changing the parameters on us.”
Angie’s gaze darted to the closed office door again. The murmur of voices from inside continued, unabated. “What, exactly, are his current parameters?”
“Oh, not that much.” Deep sarcasm refuted her words. “He wants a mother for Mikey, that’s number one on his list. You’d think that would be good enough, right?”
“Right?”
“Wrong, girlfriend.” She practically sang the words. “He also wants someone who’s a top-notch cook and can entertain both clients and friends on a large scale. You know, throw a five-star party complete with gourmet food and a Vegas-worthy show with only two minutes’ warning.” Papers rustled and Angie could tell Jett was reading from a form. “He also wants someone classy, who can maintain an elegant home. Not sure if she’s supposed to decorate it, too. That’s one of my questions. She has to be intelligent. Attractive. And there’s other stuff that Pretorius blanked out, which probably has to do with sex.”
“Dear God,” Angie said faintly. “No wonder he can’t find a wife.”
Jett snorted. “Ya think? Maybe Justice should just build him a frigging robot instead of driving Uncle P. crazy. I think it’d be easier. Don’t suppose you know anyone who fits Mr. Devlin’s criteria? Unlikely, I realize, considering I don’t think she exists. Maybe in some male-oriented fantasyland, but not in any real world I’m familiar with.”
The off-the-cuff question sparked an idea. A crazy, impulsive, totally outrageous idea, so unlike her, the audacity of it threatened to steal her breath away. Not only would it provide Mikey with a mother and potentially assist Lucius if the Ridgeways sued for custody, but it would give her a shot at her own female-oriented fantasyland.
Angie sat there, the possibility dangling before her like a bright, shiny diamond, just begging for her to snatch it up. Why not give it a shot? Why not take the chance? The risk, she was quick to correct herself. A very serious risk that could—most likely would—lose her a job she adored. Granted, if it worked out, she and Lucius would both have what they wanted. And if it didn’t… Well, she planned to quit her job when he married, anyway, so what did she really have to lose?
“You still there?” Jett demanded.
“Still here. I was thinking… What if I did know someone who would be the perfect wife for Lucius?” she asked.
“Get out. You know someone who can cook, clean, do the party thing and take care of a baby? Seriously? Like a real human woman?”
“Not exactly.” She stared down at Mikey and cuddled him closer. “We might have to alter the woman’s abilities just a tad.”
“Uh-huh.” Cynicism replaced excitement. “How much is a tad?”
“Well, totally, since this person can’t cook or clean. At least, not on the scale you’re suggesting.” Yet. “The parties might be on the table. And she flat-out adores Mikey, even if she’s a bit inexperienced when it comes to babies.”
“Well, thanks for getting my hopes up for nothing,” Jett complained. “Who is this person and why would I pick someone so completely wrong?”
Angie took a deep breath. “The person is…well…me. And I don’t think I’m wrong at all. In fact, I think I’m the perfect choice.”
Rain beat down on them for the rest of the week in a seemingly unending gray curtain. Friday, the sun made a brave reappearance, battling back the storm clouds, and by late that afternoon gained strength, flowing triumphantly through the window behind Lucius’s desk. Streams of soft gold flooded the room and he tilted the printout he held to catch the tidal wave of light. He read the name the computer had kicked out for the umpteenth time.
“How is this possible, Pretorius?” he demanded in disbelief, his hand tightening around his cell phone. “Answer me that. How?”
“I don’t know. I’m as stunned as you are.”
“You programmed the damn thing. Are you telling me you don’t know how your own program works?”
“It must have been the result of this latest tweak in parameters,” Pretorius insisted doggedly. “But she’s your perfect apprentice/wife.”
The name of the “perfect” woman danced across the page in a taunting tango. Angelique Colter, Angelique Colter, his dammittohell PA, Angelique “Angie” Colter. “How was her name even picked up by your program?”
“Not sure, but I can guess,” Pretorius said cautiously.
“Fine,” Lucius snarled. “Guess. But make it an accurate one or I swear I’ll reach through my computer and peel your circuits right off your mainframe. Then I’ll get really mean. Now explain.”
Pretorius erupted into speech. “It’s possible that the new program, the program designed to find you the perfect wife, was accidentally connected to the old program, the one designed to find you the perfect PA. Apparently, Ms. Colter is an acceptable candidate for both positions.”
“Both.”
“Exactly. I guess that makes her more than perfect, doesn’t it?” Pretorius gave a quick laugh, then cleared his throat when Lucius didn’t join in. “So the real question is… Would you prefer her for your PA, or for your wife?”
For some reason that one simple question hit Lucius like a towering wave, sweeping his feet out from under him and tumbling him over and over. “I’ll get back to you,” he said and disconnected the call.
An image of Angie in a tiny triangle of blue blossomed fully formed in his mind. So did the rest of her, a very naked rest of her. He saw her again as he had a week before. Her small, pert breasts—Eve’s apples, perfect and perfectly tempting. Those killer legs that went on forever. That long, supple flow of her naked back. That glorious backside, round and biteable. The way that glorious backside twitched when she stalked away from him.
His hand clenched around the printout. Dear God, he could have it all. He could have Angie, probably the most trustworthy woman he knew—not to mention drop-dead gorgeous. He could have a mother for Mikey and, hopefully, an end to the Ridgeway’s impending lawsuit. He could have Angie in his bed. A suitable hostess. Angie in his bed. Someone to welcome him after a hard day’s work with home-cooked meals. And best of all, Angie in his bed. How perfect would that be? It was every man’s secret fantasy. And it could all be his.
He shook his head. Forget the fantasy. He needed to consider more urgent issues than personal gratification, the most important of which was Mikey’s welfare. If he believed for one minute the boy would be better off with the Ridgeways, he’d have discussed terminating his guardianship in their favor. Had seriously considered it. But in the three months since the death of Geoff and Lisa he’d had ample opportunity to speak to Mikey’s grandparents and watch how they cared for him. And one overriding fact had become painfully clear. They were more concerned about the boy’s “tainted” blood and the need to suppress that taint than they were about any other aspect of childrearing.
Not only that, but they were a cold, hard couple, totally unlike Geoff. Maybe that was why his friend had spent so much time hanging out at the Devlins. Memories of those days gathered around Lucius, as faded gold as the sunlight at his back. A bittersweet smile carved his mouth. His father and Geoff had been as alike as two peas in a pod. Open. Trusting. A friend to all. The irony didn’t escape him. Maybe they’d been accidentally switched at birth, he the offspring of the emotionally compromised Ridgeways, Geoff the son of Angel Devlin.
He shook his head. It didn’t matter. Not any longer. All that mattered now was Mikey and Lucius’s determination to save him from the Ridgeway’s tender, loving care—or lack thereof. That left only two questions to consider. First, was Angie an appropriate mother figure for the boy? It didn’t take any thought at all. He’d seen how she interacted with Mikey. Seen her light up whenever she held him. Witnessed the ease with which she held him. Fussed over him. How her eyes would track him whenever Keesha was around. She was as maternal as they came. And according to the computer printout, experienced with children.
Which brought him to his second question… How did he convince Angie that she’d rather be his wife than his PA?
He shoved back his chair and paced the length of the office. Face facts, Devlin. No one would want to take him on full-time. He was a workaholic. Emotionally compromised. Hard. Ruthless. Not the best attributes in a husband, even a temporary one. So, what did he have to offer a woman like Angie that would induce her to accept the position? Money. That was a given. But from what he could tell, financial gain had never been a driving force in Angie’s life. Her career had always been her main focus. So, how did he convince a woman dedicated to her career that marrying him was a better option? There was one lever available to him, though he’d rather not use it.
Angie was crazy about Mikey. If she believed the Ridgeways would win custody of the baby if she didn’t agree to his proposition, it might put just enough weight on his side of the scales to convince her to go along with his plan. Well, there was only one way to find out whether he could make an offer Angie wouldn’t refuse. Ask her.
He touched a button on his phone and an instant later she appeared in the doorway of his office, electronic tablet in hand. Ever since the night they’d had dinner with Gabe Moretti, she’d subtly changed her appearance. She wore her hair looser, the style more flattering to her delicate features. She’d also changed the type of suits she wore from boxy to tailored. And though she hadn’t quite broken loose when it came to the color of the suits, they were far more attractive than they had been.
Of course, ever since that night all he could think about was the earth-shattering kiss they’d shared. The softness of her skin. The perfection of her breasts. The taste of her mouth. And all that could be his. He only needed to convince her that she wanted a different sort of career.
“Come in and close the door,” he requested. The minute she’d done so, he crossed to the wet bar and poured her a glass of wine. Her brows shot upward when he exchanged the drink for her electronic tablet.
“Am I going to need this?” she asked uneasily.
“Possibly.” He shrugged, setting the tablet aside. “Probably.”
Her face paled. “Have I done something wrong?”
He allowed a brief smile to touch his face, despite the seriousness of the situation. “I don’t usually offer wine to someone I’m about to fire.”
“I’ll make a note of it,” she murmured. “Or I would if you hadn’t taken my tablet.”
“You won’t need it for this.”
She took a tiny sip of wine, probably to fortify herself. “And this is…?”
“I have a proposition to offer.”
She stilled, an odd expression crossing her face, almost as though she were bracing herself. “A business proposition?”
“In a sense.” He poured himself a drink, as well, then gestured her toward the sitting area of his office. He could only hope that this discussion wouldn’t end the same way it had with Ella. “Let’s discuss it.”
Angie gripped the wineglass so tightly it was a wonder it didn’t shatter. She knew what was coming and could only pray her expression didn’t give her away. Guilt threatened to overwhelm her. Ever since she and Jett had concocted their plan and “accidentally” slipped her profile into Pretorius’s ongoing search parameters—with a few vital adjustments—she’d second- and third- and fourth-guessed herself.
Lucius needed a wife. A real wife. One who knew all about babies and running a home and entertaining clients. She didn’t qualify at all for the first two of those, and barely scraped by on the third. Angie closed her eyes. But there was one thing the computer couldn’t program, that Lucius hadn’t thought to add to his precious parameters.
It couldn’t program love. Whomever the Pretorius Program chose as Lucius’s perfect mate, she wouldn’t love him. Nor would she love Mikey, even if she excelled in all those other areas. How could she love a man and a baby she’d never met before? Oh, knowing Lucius, he’d find a capable woman. Tears pricked her eyes. As capable as his PA. But he wouldn’t find what he didn’t even realize he needed.
Love.
Aware that a tense silence had fallen, Angie opened her eyes to find Lucius staring at her through narrowed black eyes. “I told you I wasn’t planning on firing you.”
“But…” she prompted softly.
“But I’d like to offer you a different position.”
“Within Diablo, Inc.?”
“Not exactly.”
She refused to act coy. Not about this. “Is this a position along the lines of what you were offering to Ella?”
She’d caught him by surprise and he took a moment before inclining his head. “You’re a smart woman, Angie. One of the many qualities I’ve always admired about you.”
Maybe too smart for her own good. “Tell me what you’re offering. And tell me why I’d want to give up the job I currently have—and love—for one that won’t advance my career.”
“First, the position I’m offering is…” To her surprise a hint of color carved a path across his impressive cheekbones. If circumstances had been different she’d have been amused by it. “Well, I suppose you could call it ‘temporary fiancée.’”
“A fiancée,” she repeated, tensing. Not what she’d expected. Not at all what she’d expected. “A temporary fiancée.” What happened to his wanting a wife?
He hesitated. “With so much at stake, I thought it reasonable to employ caution. A trial run makes certain both parties are satisfied with the arrangement. If you’ll recall, there was a trial period when I hired you as my PA. It’s even more crucial to have one for this position.” He blew out a sigh. “God, that sounds so cold and calculated. Sterile.”
“Is that what you want?” she dared asked. “Cold, calculated and sterile?”
His eyes fired. “No, of course not. But what I want to get out of this arrangement isn’t what’s important. This is about Mikey.”
“Believe it or not, I understand that. I’m not a fool, Lucius. I didn’t think you were proposing a real engagement.” She fought to remain calm, to ignore that flame building in his gaze. To ignore the nerves clawing at her composure. “What happens if we’re both satisfied with the probationary period of our engagement? What then?”
“Then we marry.”
It was her turn to hesitate. “Again, other than the honor of becoming your wife and a mother to Mikey—”
“Ouch.”
She didn’t back down or curb the hint of sarcasm she’d allowed to drift into her comment. Didn’t dare. If he ever suspected what she and Jett had done, The Devil Devlin would make her life a living hell. And then he’d get really mean. “Seriously, Lucius. Why would I agree to such an insane arrangement? Why would any intelligent woman?”
“First, I’ll pay you far more than what you’re currently receiving as my PA.”
“Okay, ouch right back at you.”
He waved that aside with an impatient air. “Look, I know that money doesn’t drive you. But it’s a start. Let’s discuss what the job entails and then you tell me what you want in the way of compensation.”
“Fair enough. What would my duties include?”
“First and foremost, as you’ve already guessed, I require a mother for Mikey. I’m sure you’re aware the Ridgeways are talking about suing for custody. So far, I’ve convinced them to hold off, but one of their arguments is that I don’t have a stable home life. I’m dependent on outsiders for Mikey’s care. Having a wife whose primary duty is to raise the baby would go a long way toward appeasing them. You have an excellent rapport with Mikey already and you’ve been very good with the Ridgeways, something they’ve both noticed and commented on. And it’s obvious that your maternal instincts and your kindness are a genuine part of who you are as a person.”
“I’m not sure how kind I’ve been toward the Ridgeways, but they’re Mikey’s grandparents and Geoff’s parents. They deserve my respect, even if I don’t agree with their parenting style,” Angie stated simply. “Plus, I flat-out adore Mikey.”
Lucius grinned. “Even teething?”
She relaxed enough to return his smile. “Even teething.” She gestured for him to continue. “What’s next?”
“I currently have a housekeeper who takes care of maintaining the house and providing meals. But she’s informed me she plans to retire.”
Angie lifted an eyebrow. “You want me to cook and clean as well as care for Mikey? Seriously?”
He frowned. “I understand you’re a gourmet chef.”
Time for a little honesty. “That’s a gross exaggeration. I putter in the kitchen.” Boiling water. Throwing together a prepackaged salad. Fixing a decent cup of coffee. “But if you’re expecting gourmet meals, you have the wrong woman. You’re a billionaire, Lucius. Is there some reason you can’t hire a housekeeper to handle the general cooking and cleaning?”
“No, no of course not.” She could see him making a swift alteration to his game plan. “What about staging events for entertaining large groups of people?”
She could learn. How different could it be from some of the business events she’d helped plan for Diablo? “Sure.”
He relaxed ever so slightly. “And you can oversee the domestic end of things.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything, yet.”
Lucius inclined his head. “True enough.”
“So far we have the care for Mikey, the organization of the house and entertaining friends, clients and business associates. What else?”
“One final requirement.” He set his drink aside, untouched. “As you’re probably aware, I live in the penthouse apartment of this building. My plan has always been to find a house better suited to entertaining. With Mikey’s advent, I’ve moved those plans forward. I recently purchased a home on Lake Washington, but it needs a facelift. It needs a creative woman with an eye for color and design, who also possesses impeccable taste, to oversee those improvements.”
Uh-oh. Angie could see where this was heading. Straight off a cliff and into a vat of hot water. Scalding hot water. What the hell had Jett been thinking to add that particular talent to her curriculum vitae? And why in the world would Lucius buy into it? Or had it not occurred to him that a woman who dressed like chair upholstery might not have the best eye for design and color, let alone impeccable taste?
“Are you insane, Lucius?” she inquired politely. “I mean, seriously. Your little laundry list of requirements is a lovely dream. The perfect male fantasy, no doubt. But that’s all it’ll ever be. It’s the height of arrogance to expect one woman to do all that, especially a woman with an ounce of brains, common sense or self-respect. There isn’t one item you’ve detailed that isn’t, on its own, a full-time position. Expecting a single person to handle all of them…?” She shook her head. “That’s not going to happen. It’s certainly not going to happen with me.”
He nodded, almost as though he’d anticipated her objection. “Fine. Let’s open negotiations. If we hire a housekeeper to handle the domestic chores—cooking and cleaning—all you’d need to do is delegate and supervise.”
“That would be a definite improvement. As for Mikey, you still need a part-time nanny to cover for—” She started to say “me” and smoothly changed gears. “To cover for your fiancée/wife when she’s entertaining or meeting with the decorator. Or knowing you, dealing with the slew of additional tasks you’ll undoubtedly dump on her.”
“Keesha is a temporary full-time hire. She made that clear from the beginning. Apparently, she has a mother who isn’t well and needs her assistance. But I’ve already asked if she’d be available for part-time work and she’s agreed. Does that satisfy you?”
Angie inclined her head. Now for the more distasteful part of the arrangement. Though she didn’t want to ask about the financial end of their bargain, if she didn’t address the issue, he’d suspect something was off. “You mentioned payment. Just out of curiosity, how much are we talking?” He named a figure that made her grateful she was sitting. It took her an instant to gather her wits sufficiently to ask, “And if the job doesn’t work out?”
He shrugged. “Then you could return to your position as my PA, with a comfortable bonus for your efforts. No hard feelings on either side.”
She simply looked at him. “You know better than that, Lucius. If our relationship falls apart on the personal side of things it would have a serious effect on any future working relationship. What happens if one or the other of us wants to sever all ties? I’d be giving up a job I love, a career that’s important to me, and for what? To be your domestic goddess?”
He chuckled, the sound sliding through her like a velvet touch. “Is that what I’m hiring? A domestic goddess?”
“Actually, the job title should be domestic slave.” Angie leaned back, relaxing for the first time since the start of their discussion. She took a bracing sip of wine, a cool, refreshing Fumé Blanc. It helped steady her for the next topic of conversation. “There’s one part of this job we haven’t discussed.”
“Which is?”
“Sex.”
“Ah.” An expression came into his eyes, one that had her throat going dry and a hot pool of want forming in her belly. Waves of it lapped outward, roiling and seething in endless demand. “How could I have neglected something so vital?”
“I gather that’s a ‘yes.’”
“No.”
She stiffened, shocked by his answer. Had she miscalculated? Had she read more into the night they’d had dinner with Gabe Moretti? Had he considered their kiss a mild and forgettable flirtation, easily dismissed, while she’d built it up into something far more serious and memorable?
“Not a yes?” she asked faintly.
“No, not a yes,” he responded gravely, “but rather a hell, yes.”
Her mouth twitched and a laugh escaped before she could control it. Then she realized that it wasn’t funny. Not considering her issues. Not considering that she’d planned to approach Gabe Moretti over this very problem. Her laughter died and she regarded him with nervous apprehension.
“What’s wrong?” His eyes narrowed. “You must realize that if we’re going to become engaged, probably married, that a sexual relationship would be an important part of the equation.”
She lifted a shoulder in what she hoped was a casual shrug. “You didn’t mention it as one of your conditions, so I can only assume it’s not a very important part.”
“Allow me to prove otherwise.”
Before she could react, he took her hand and gave a quick tug. Unable to resist, she tumbled straight into his arms, straight into his mouth…and straight into heaven.