She snapped back into business mode and began writing in her notepad. “Wednesday morning. Where and when?”
“Let’s make it eight o’clock. Leaving Dunsmuir Airport and traveling to the Fantasy Mountain airstrip. They’ve made the flight before. Let them know what you want for breakfast, and tell them I’ll have the usual.”
She looked up, mystified. “The usual? Wait. Breakfast? Me? Why?”
He grinned as she tripped over her words. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”
She shook her head in exasperation. “You don’t need me to go with you.”
“Of course I do,” he said, breezing over her protest. He strolled to the wet bar, placed the coffee mug in the little sink, then casually added, “And pack an overnight bag.”
“What?” She jumped up from the chair and blocked his way back to his desk. “Why?”
He gazed into her beautiful, leaf-green eyes and almost forgot what they were talking about. Almost. “It might be a long day. We could get stuck on the mountain. You never know about the weather in November.” He could hear the tension in his own voice and wondered why a discussion of travel arrangements made him feel as horny as a high school kid.
“I suppose,” she said slowly, but she didn’t look at all convinced. She obviously didn’t want to go to Fantasy Mountain, but the more she protested, the more he wanted her with him. She was so close, he itched to take her in his arms and fuse her body to his. But that probably wouldn’t help his cause just now.
“Besides bringing you up to speed on the ADA issues,” he explained, “this’ll be a good time for you to take a look at the space for the opening-night festivities.”
“Really, Adam, I don’t see why…” Her shoulders slumped and she blew out a breath.
Adam stared at her for a moment. “Trish, are you afraid of flying?”
“Of course not,” she said indignantly, her chin held high.
“Good. Be ready to leave at eight o’clock Wednesday morning.”
“Fine.”
He sat down at his desk again and said, “We’ll go over your notes for the opening-night festivities while we’re in the air next week. I won’t have time to do it until then. And right now, I need you to pull some files.”
Once Trish left the office, Adam could breathe again.
Pensively, he stood up, strolled to the wide bank of windows and stared out at the coast. He’d been walking an increasingly narrow tightrope over the last few days, trying to keep his mind on business despite being barraged by sexual fantasies that featured his attractive new assistant.
“Dammit.” He couldn’t blame Trish. She was efficient, discreet and intelligent. She seemed to have a good sense of humor. Adam noticed he’d been laughing a lot more lately and wondered if too much laughter was rotting his brain.
The woman was not only good at her job, but actually seemed to care about him. Hell, she even made sure he ordered something healthy for dinner every night he worked late. She’d stood her ground on the health food issue again last night and he’d admired her style while at the same time he’d debated whether he could rip off her clothes, throw her onto his couch and satisfy his true hunger.
Adam had already identified the problem. Lust. Pure and simple. He knew it. He just didn’t know what to do about it. Well, no, actually, he knew exactly what to do about it, he thought ruefully. He just couldn’t figure out when he would have a free minute to find a willing woman and satisfy that particular itch until the Fantasy Mountain resort was a done deal.
He wasn’t going to give in to what he felt for Trish. Not while she was working for him.
So it promised to be one hell of a frustrating month.
An hour later, the intercom rang and Adam grabbed the phone. “What?” he asked a little too curtly.
“It’s your brother Brandon on line 2,” Trish announced.
“Thanks.”
Adam pushed the speakerphone button. “What’s up?”
“Who was that?” Brandon asked immediately.
“My new assistant.”
“Is she hot?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“She must be hot.”
“Goodbye, Brandon.”
“Wait,” Brandon said quickly. “Just wanted to alert you to the fact that Mom had dinner with Marjorie last night.”
“So what?”
“Don’t you get it?” Brandon demanded. “Marjorie’s one of Mom’s oldest friends. She’s got to be in on the scheme. Think about it. Mom’s got our own Human Resources manager working to sabotage us from within the company. They’re perfectly positioned to bring you down.”
“You’re nuts.”
“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Mom’s turned desperate and ruthless. I actually heard her say that you’re going down first, so you’d better be on your guard. Don’t be surprised if they pull an inside job.”
Adam shook his head as his brother’s ranting came to an end. “When did you become so paranoid?”
“Call me names but heed my words,” Brandon said in a serious tone, then added, “Mom wants grandkids and to get what she wants, she has to sacrifice us. You’re her first target, so I’m just saying you might want to beware of strange and beautiful women running amok in your office.”
Adam laughed. “Were you hit in the head with one too many footballs?”
“This is the thanks I get for watching your back?”
“Talk to you later, bro,” Adam said, shaking his head.
“I can only hope so,” Brandon said mournfully, then quickly reminded him about the weekend barbecue at their mother’s house.
Adam was still chuckling when he hung up. He buzzed Trish and asked her to bring him the North Vineyard file. She entered his office and his gaze was immediately drawn to her legs. Again. The dress she wore was office appropriate. Almost too conservative, in fact. It shouldn’t have been sexy, so why were his nerves humming as he watched how well the silky material clung to her curves and skimmed her knees as she made her way across the room?
Small silver buttons ran up the front of Trish’s dress and Adam wondered how long it would take to unbutton them enough to allow the soft fabric to slide off her shoulders and reveal her enticing breasts. In no time, he would have her naked, under him, on his desk.
“Do you want it on your desk?” she asked.
Adam flinched. Could she read his mind? He looked up to see her smiling as she held the thick client folder out for him to take. He exhaled heavily. Chances were, she wouldn’t be smiling if she knew which direction his mind drifted off to whenever she walked into the office.
“Adam?”
“Yeah.” What the hell was wrong with him? He felt a headache brewing and pinched the bridge of his nose. “On the desk. Thanks, Trish.”
“I didn’t know your company owned vineyards.”
“What?”
She pointed to the file. “North Vineyard is part of Duke Cellars. I never made the connection until now.”
“Oh.” He rubbed his forehead and tried to concentrate on the mundane topic. “Yes. We own a number of vineyards and we’ve just had our fourth press. It promises to be a good one. We’ll be opening a resort in the wine country next year.”
“Oh, that sounds exciting.”
“Yeah, it should be a fantastic opening.”
Her eyes glittered with interest and all he could think about was making them shine with passion.
“Are you all right?” she asked, concern in her voice.
“Oh, yeah, great,” he said, clamping down on his urge to pull her onto his lap.
“Are you sure I can’t do anything for you?”
Not unless she was willing to give him a full body massage. “Thanks, no. I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Okay, but I’m right outside and I have aspirin if you need it.”
A cold shower would be more of a help, but Adam nodded. “I appreciate it.”
She turned to leave and he caught the lightest scent of oranges and vanilla. Against his better judgment, he savored the sweetness as he watched her long-legged gait carry her across the thickly carpeted office toward the door. The sway of her curvaceous bottom hypnotized him completely.
Dammit, would he ever be able to relax in his own office again?
Beware of strange and beautiful women running amok in your office.
“What the-?” He looked around, then made a face as Brandon’s words managed to filter through his distracted mind.
Trish turned. “Did you say something?”
“No,” he said in a strangled tone he barely recognized as his own.
“Okay.” She smiled, then slipped out and quietly shut the door behind her.
An inside job.
“Stop it,” he said aloud, shaking his head in protest. Brandon was seriously deranged and Adam was buying into his obsession, that was all.
You’re her first target.
“No, I’m not.”
She’s ruthless and desperate.
“There’s no way.” He shook his head again and cursed under his breath, then brusquely opened the North Vineyard file and started to study the lease terms. After reading the same convoluted sentence three times, he stopped, looked up and stared at the closed doors leading to Trish’s work area.
They’re perfectly positioned to bring you down.
He raked his fingers through his hair as he recalled Marjorie’s words four days ago, the morning she brought Trish in to take Cheryl’s place as his assistant.
I’ve got the perfect person for you, Marjorie had said. And she’d been damn cheery about it, too.
“Ah, hell,” he muttered. There was no way his brother Brandon was right. It was ludicrous. Trish? A plant? A willing player in his mother’s scheme to marry him off?
Or was she just a pawn?
Adam pushed away from his desk and began to pace. He stopped. Shook his head. Paced some more. Stopped again.
He was driving himself crazy.
How could his mother and Marjorie pull off something like this? First of all, they would’ve had to have orchestrated Cheryl’s departure. Or would they? Maybe it was just a happy coincidence that Cheryl had left the company, and Marjorie, coerced by his mother, had jumped at the opportunity to bring in a certain attractive woman who just might be capable of seducing him into love and marriage.
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