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“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.
Two
“Not many women can wear that dress and get away with it,” Trinity commented. “It’s because you’re so slender.”
Angie tugged at the plunging drape of the bodice. “No, it’s because I’m built like a prepubescent boy.”
Trinity shook her head. “Honey, that figure is all woman. True, it’s not voluptuous, but no one would ever mistake you for a boy. And that shade of aquamarine is stunning on you. It really makes your eyes pop.”
After Britt’s betrayal, Angie had been reluctant to form a close relationship with another woman. She definitely hadn’t been interested in finding another best friend. Trinity had ignored every one of Angie’s defensive barricades and steamrollered right over them. It took a full six months before she’d broken through the final one, but once she had, the two became as close as sisters.
Angie gave a quick shimmy. “This dress is too tight. I think I need a size larger.”
“It’s perfect and you know it. It’s exactly what Devlin requested.”
It might be exactly what he requested, but it wasn’t at all what Angie wanted to give him. Or rather, showcase in front of Gabe Moretti. Maybe if this were a romantic dinner with Lucius, and the dress were meant for his eyes alone … The instant the thought—the dream—popped into her head, she ruthlessly plucked it out again. That would never happen.
She’d heard the gossip about Lisa and her on-again, off-again relationship with first Lucius and then Geoff Ridgeway. The relationship had ended in Lisa’s marriage to Geoff two short months after Angie accepted a job at Diablo, Inc.—over a year after her own split with Ryan. Rumors and gossip had flown through the office, hot and heavy, only abating when it became clear that the newly-weds were ecstatically happy. How many times had she driven that point home in an attempt to quell the rumor mill and give her boss some peace? When Lisa announced her pregnancy, and the couple had named Lucius the baby-to-be’s godfather, the last, lingering whispers had finally died off.
Even so, Angie saw what no one else did, what Lucius had successfully hidden from all but the most discerning eyes. He was beyond miserable, working day by day to put a stoic face on a hideous situation, which confirmed her suspicion that he’d been madly in love with Lisa. But she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d never get over losing the love of his life to his best friend, even if Angie couldn’t understand why anyone would choose the affable, slightly geeky Geoff Ridgeway over the sexy-as-hell Lucius Devlin.
No doubt losing his soul mate explained his cold-blooded attempts to find a mother for Mikey. He wasn’t interested in any sort of emotional involvement; he simply wanted a permanent nanny for the baby—not that it was any of her business.
Angie forced her attention back to the task at hand and turned, frowning at the way the thigh-high skirt clung to her backside, the horizontal pleats giving the illusion of attractively rounded hips. The miniscule skirt showcased mile-long legs, while the three-inch heels made them seem even longer.
“Don’t you think it’s awfully short?” she asked Trinity in concern.
“Not even.”
“A bit low cut?” The question carried an unmistakably desperate air.
“You have great collarbones and a pretty chest.” Trinity approached, circled. “I say, show it off.”
“I’m not sure this is smart.”
“Hey, you said Devlin wanted you dressed to distract. Trust me. This’ll distract every living, breathing man within a ten-mile radius. Maybe fifty miles. How are you planning to wear your hair?”
“Up.”
Trinity planted her hands on her hips and tilted her head to one side, her spiky black hair, slanted green eyes and gorgeous golden-brown skin making her look like a cross between a cat and an elf. “I’m torn. The back is cut on the low side. If you wear your hair down, you lessen the impact of it. But you always wear your hair up.” She gathered the length in her hands and lifted it into a loose and careless ponytail, the curls cascading down the center of her spine. “Okay, this might work. Hair has that flirty, windblown look and yet, you can still see plenty of skin.”
“A must, I gather,” Angie said drily.
“A definite must,” Trinity agreed. “Go easy on the makeup. Let your body do the talking.”
“My body hasn’t done any talking for three full years.”
Trinity shot a swift glance over her shoulder. “Girl, don’t go admitting that where someone can overhear you. I mean, that’s just sad.”
“But true.”
“Mmm. You go out dressed like this more often and your body wouldn’t just be talking, it would be screaming out the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ on a nightly basis.”
Angie didn’t dare admit that her body had never screamed the “Hallelujah Chorus.” Hummed a few bars, but that was about as close as she’d come. “What about jewelry?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.
“Earrings. Dangles. Preferably silver.”
“I think I have something that might work. They’re beaten silver, a cascade of twisted hearts.”
“Oh, the irony.”
Angie grinned. “Not that I’m obsessive, or anything.”
“Hell, no. Why would you be?” She gave Angie a hip nudge. “Come on. Pay for the thing and let’s go have dinner and drinks. We should celebrate your release from the land of the average and banal.”
Stifling her qualms, Angie bought the dress and heels, then threw in some ridiculously expensive undergarments that were little more than scraps of lace held together by elastic threads. In for a penny … She found the rest of the evening far more enjoyable than the torture of clothes shopping. Trinity had a flair for distraction. Of course, it didn’t hurt that they split a bottle of wine over an Italian meal.
Several hours later, she sat back, replete. “I should have bought that dress in a size larger,” she confessed ruefully.
Trinity groaned. “Maybe two. It was those bread sticks. They do me in every time.”
“Funny. I would have said it was the tiramisu.”
“Not a chance. Desserts here don’t have calories. The waiter swore it was true. I might be able to give up bread sticks—or at least cut back a little—but don’t ask me to give up their tiramisu.”
“Fair enough.”
“So are you done brooding?”
Angie blinked in surprise. “Was I brooding?”
“He called you office furniture. That’s enough to make anyone brood. But I guarantee The Devil won’t call you that ever again.” Trinity nudged the shopping bags with the toe of her Choos, intense satisfaction sliding through her voice. “Not once he sees you in that dress.”
Angie flinched. “Don’t.” Though she’d never told Trinity how she felt about Lucius, there was no question her friend suspected something. “Nothing will ever happen. Not with him. He’s actually thinking about getting married.”
Trinity’s mouth dropped open. “No way.”
“It’s a sensible decision. He needs a mother for Mikey.”
“And has he found her or is he in the looking phase?”
“Looking.”
Trinity’s hazel eyes danced with mischief. “Well, then. Maybe that dress will have him looking in a whole new direction.”
It was just a joke, Angie told herself for the umpteenth time, smoothly changing the subject. A tantalizing possibility, but utterly impossible. Unrealistic. And considering it as anything else could only lead to one place. Utter heartbreak. She couldn’t go there. Not again. And so she chatted and laughed and tucked her heartache away until she could escape home.
The minute she entered her house, she carefully tucked her purchases into the far recesses of her closet where the outfit wouldn’t be in a position to taunt her for the next few days. And even though Lucius asked for the receipts, she refused to hand them over. It didn’t seem right to have him pay for the dress, not to mention the more intimate pieces she’d bought. Not when she could wear them on more occasions than their business dinner.
Friday came far too soon for Angie’s peace of mind. She left work promptly for a change and refused Lucius’s offer to pick her up. Easier to take a cab to the waterfront. She arrived at Milano’s on the Sound exactly on time. She loved Joe’s restaurant, loved the romantic ambience of it, even though tonight was strictly business. The layout of the interior appealed to her on some basic, feminine level, the overall design making clever use of spacing, angles and elegant furnishings. Joe had even created little nooks and oases that gave the diners the illusion that they were the only patrons present.
Andre, the maître d’, greeted her by name as he offered to take her wrap. She could only assume he had one of those impressive memories that allowed him to pair names with faces. His gaze swept over her in a discreet manner, but one which managed to convey deep masculine approval. It gave her confidence a boost, something she badly needed considering the two men she’d soon be dealing with.
“Mr. Devlin and Mr. Moretti have already arrived,” he informed her in an undertone. “They seem somewhat at odds.”
“Already?”
Andre lifted a shoulder in a shrug that clearly said, “Alpha men, what else do you expect?”
She smiled. “Have they been served drinks?”
“Not yet.”
“I have it on good authority that they’ll be ordering beef this evening. Why don’t you have a bottle of Glenrothes brought to the table. If I’m wrong and they order seafood, swap it out for Old Pulteney.”
“Of course, Ms. Colter. I’ll see to it immediately.”
He guided her to an exclusive section reserved for VIPs. While some of the tables allowed couples to sit hip to hip in the deep, cushioned benches facing the windows overlooking Puget Sound, the table Andre showed her to was a simple round. The two men sat across from one another like a pair of combatants. A vacant chair, facing the windows was clearly meant for her. Great. She loved playing Monkey in the Middle.
She didn’t know what alerted Lucius to her presence. But she could tell the instant he sensed her, his body stiffening, his gaze swiveling to narrow in on her. The patent disbelief in his gaze when he saw her almost made her laugh—or maybe cry since it told her precisely what he thought of her as a woman. He was quick to conceal his shock. Too late, she wanted to say.
He shoved back his chair and stood, approaching in order to take her hand in his and guide her to the table as though they were a couple, instead of boss/employee. “Gabe, you remember my PA, Angie Colter.”
Gabe Moretti was every inch as gorgeous as Lucius, with hair as raven dark. But instead of eyes to match, his were the shade of antique gold, filled with mystery and predatory intent. He stood to greet her, his gaze sharp and appraising. Then he smiled with singular charm and offered her his hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Ms. Colter,” he said in a voice that made her think of smoke.
“Please, call me Angie, Mr. Moretti.”
He inclined his head. “Let’s make it Angie and Gabe, shall we?” Before Lucius had the chance, he pulled out the chair for her, acting the part of the host—and no doubt annoying her boss in the process. “I believe the last time I saw you, you were shopping for a house. How did that turn out?”
Impressed that he’d remembered, she rewarded him with a broad smile. “I closed on a small cottage in Ballard last month. It needs a bit of work, mostly cosmetic, but considering I picked it up for an excellent price, I don’t mind in the least.”
“Smart. But, then, knowing Devlin, he only hires the best.” He shot Lucius a challenging glance. “Perhaps I should steal her from you.”
Lucius didn’t rise to the bait. “One of the qualities I look for in an employee is loyalty. You’re welcome to make Angie an offer. If she accepts, it simply means my assessment of her was mistaken and I’m better off finding a new PA.” He turned his black gaze on Angie and his smile smoldered like the smoke from hell. “Have I made a mistake?”
Good Lord, how in the world had she ended up in the middle of this tug-of-war? Instead of answering the question, she gave Andre a discreet nod, relieved beyond measure when he crossed to the table with the bottle of scotch. It proved the perfect distraction. With the ease of long practice, she turned the conversation to the latest financial market news. That successfully navigated them through the pouring of their drinks. Fortunately, the restaurant owner, Joe Milano, appeared just then with a platter of cold shellfish he’d prepared for them, personally.
He offered each man his hand, greeting them by name. He even took Angie’s hand, kissing it with a natural ease that charmed. “You are absolutely delectable this evening. Who’s going to look at my food when they can look at you?” he teased. “I should hide you away so my dishes can take center stage once again.”
“I’m not sure Maddie would approve of that,” Angie replied with an answering smile. At the mention of his wife’s name, his brown eyes lit up and the expression that came into his face caused a pang of envy. What she wouldn’t give to have a man look like that at the mere mention of her name. “Is she still trying to burn down the house?”
Joe chuckled. “Let’s just say I keep her well away from the kitchen. And since our daughters all seem to follow in her footsteps—with one delightful exception—they are also banned.”
“A future chef in the making?”
“Without question.” Joe didn’t linger after that. Wishing them buon appetito, he returned to the kitchen.
She didn’t give either of her dinner companions the chance to cause further trouble. Once their waiter served them choice tidbits of the appetizer, she nudged the conversation ever so gently into the direction of the most recent changes to building inspections and codes, a subject dear to the hearts of both men. That got them through the appetizers, over the hurdle of a visit from the sommelier and a prolonged discussion of dinner options, before leaping directly into a terse debate over which dish was Joe’s most impressive specialty.
Honestly, men never failed to exasperate her.
The instant their dinner arrived, she deliberately turned the conversation to the Richter project, hoping against hope it would get the focus off her and onto business where it belonged. “Your remodel of the Diamondt building was stunning,” she informed Gabe with utter sincerity. “Are you planning something similar for this venture?”
“To be honest, I mainly handle the structural renovations.” The instant he nudged his empty plate to one side, a busboy whisked it away.
“Who orchestrated the interior design? They did an impressive job of melding a forties retro feel with all the modern conveniences.”
Gabe hesitated, his eyes darkening in a way that warned of some deep-seated displeasure. “I hired a San Francisco firm for the remodel. Romano Restorations.”
“I’m not familiar with them.”
“No, they’re a fairly new firm.” He glanced at Lucius. “Assuming we can come to terms, we may want to consider them for this job, too.”
Lucius tilted his head to one side, his gaze shrewd. “You have reservations,” he stated, picking up on the same hesitation Angie had.
“Nothing to do with their work or their owner. Constantine Romano is outstanding at his job. It’s his wife who concerns me.” He gave a careless shrug, drawing attention to the impressive width of his shoulders and chest. “It’s a personal matter, one that has no bearing on business.”
A cynical light flickered to life in Lucius’s eyes and Angie could guess what he was thinking. “It’s not that,” she told him before she stopped to think.
Instantly, two sets of masculine eyes swiveled to dissect her. “It’s not … what?” they both demanded, almost in unison, and she winced.
She sat for a split second and stewed. When would she learn to keep her big mouth shut? Granted, Lucius had included her tonight because she tended to be good at assessing people and situations. She had a knack for reading between the lines and, for the most part, coming up with accurate conclusions. Still, he probably would have preferred to have that assessment made in private. Oh, well. Too late now.
Taking a moment longer to consider how to answer their question, she went with the truth. The two businessmen were far too sharp to believe anything less. She glanced at Lucius and fought to maintain her equilibrium beneath his narrow-eyed glare. “When Gabe says it’s personal, you assumed it meant he’d had an affair with Romano’s wife. It’s something else.” She took a sip of wine in the hopes of settling her nerves. It didn’t work. “Something clearly private.”
“How do you know?” Again in unison.
She sighed. Could the two be any more like peas in a pod? She turned to Pea #1, aka … her boss. “Because he’s angry, but not in a you-done-me-wrong sort of way. Plus, his anger isn’t directed at both of them the way it would be if he’d had his woman stolen from him.” And wouldn’t that comment cut close to the bone with Lucius, considering he’d lost his woman to his best friend. She hastened to turn to Pea #2, aka … her boss’s occasional competitor. “Considering the temperature just bottomed out to subarctic—shiver, shiver—it’s clearly a private matter that you wouldn’t talk about regardless of the incentive.” She smiled brightly. “More scotch, or should we get down to serious business over dessert?”
“Dessert and serious business,” Gabe decided.
