Jason held up his hands. “It wasn’t me. I’m terrified of the woman.”
“That makes two of us.” She nodded at the contracts. “Guard those with your life.”
“Will do”—he winked—“boss lady.”
Rather than make her happy, the two words made her feel slightly ill. Thankfully, Kelly was waiting at the door of her office with a cup of coffee. As usual she wore totally inappropriate clothing for work. Her blue-jean skirt was too short, her shirt too tight, and her Hello Kitty pink glitter belt too…weird. But she had caffeine, so Olivia chose to ignore her outfit. “You’re a saint,” she said as she reached for the cup.
Kelly pulled it back. “Sorry, but this isn’t for you.” She nodded at the closed door of Olivia’s office. “It’s for him.”
“Him? Him who?”
Kelly flipped her waist-length black hair over her shoulder. “I didn’t catch his name, but I think I’m going to call him Stud Muffin.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “I’m assuming he wants to have sex with you.”
“No. But I damned well want to have sex with him.”
Olivia looked at the door. “So why is he here?”
Kelly shrugged. “I didn’t get that either.”
As soon as her life became less hectic, Olivia was going to have to fire Kelly…or have someone else do it. “So you just let some man into my office without finding out his name or why he’s here?”
“Pretty much. And when you see him, you’ll understand why.” Kelly turned the door handle.
Olivia had a corner office the same size as Michael’s. There was a sitting area with wet bar, a bathroom with a steam shower, and floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of the bay and the Golden Gate Bridge. The man was standing at those windows. And if his front looked as good as his back, Olivia understood Kelly’s lust. He wore faded jeans that hugged his nice rear and a white dress shirt that she would bet had never seen the inside of a dry cleaner. The soft, un-starched cotton cuddled broad shoulders and a muscled back, then hung loose to his waist. Since few businessmen wore starchless dress shirts and worn jeans, Olivia figured she knew who he was.
“I’m sorry, but I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” She headed toward the man, who didn’t appear to be in a hurry to turn around. “I don’t interview models in my office. In fact the final interviews for the fashion show runway models aren’t until next week.” She stopped directly behind him, and her gaze drifted over his dark brown hair. It was nice hair. Thick and rich, without a hint of salon highlights. It looked as if it had been recently cut, the layers falling in textured waves that just reached the limp collar of his shirt. He lifted a hand and ran his fingers through the strands almost self-consciously before he slowly turned around.
Olivia was impressed. Now here was a face that could make her reschedule an interview. It was a face that could launch a thousand ships, inflame millions of women…and sell billions of pairs of men’s underwear. A tanned throat peeked from the open collar of his shirt and rose to a square chin and angular jaw. A serious mouth, with a full bottom lip and perfectly matched top, sat beneath a strong Roman nose. Long dark lashes surrounded eyes the color of crushed pansies—
“Deacon.” The word came out of her mouth like a gasp for air.
One corner of his mouth hiked up for a brief second before dropping back into a flat line. He tipped his head at the window. “Nice view.”
She blinked a couple of times and then stared at his face like a kid who had discovered a man in the gorilla exhibit at the zoo. “You shaved your beard.”
He brushed a finger along the sleeve of her lavender jacket. His heat seemed to scorch right through the material. “You covered your bug bites.” His gaze lowered to her neck. “But not your hickey.”
“Hickey?”
Kelly’s voice pulled Olivia out of her shock, and she turned to her assistant. “I’ve got this, Kelly. Thank you.” Kelly nodded and would’ve stepped out the door if Deacon hadn’t stopped her.
“Coffee?”
“Oh!” Kelly stumbled over her platform heels to get the cup of coffee to him.
“Thank you. I’m sure it’s perfect.” He gave her a smile that had Olivia doing a double take, and Kelly looking like she was about to reach orgasm. Her dark eyes glazed over as she just stood there fidgeting with her Betty Boop necklace.
“That’s all, Kelly,” Olivia said a little too sharply. And even after her assistant had left the room, her voice still held an edge that could slice tomatoes. “So I assume that you’re here for the money.”
He took a sip of coffee. Coffee that Olivia desperately needed. She thought about buzzing Kelly, but she couldn’t put up with any more giddy gawking. She was doing enough of that herself. But it was hard to look away from a smooth-shaven Deacon. Not that he was completely devoid of facial hair. Dark stubble covered his lower face and seemed to be growing before her eyes. As if reading her thoughts, he stroked his jawbone as he glanced around the room.
“Do you really need all this space?”
As she had never thought about it before, it took her a moment to answer. “Probably not, but it came with the position.”
“And that is?”
“Vice-president of sales.” She paused. “And soon-to-be CEO.”
“Hmm?” His eyebrows lifted, and he took another sip.
Since she had about a zillion things to do, Olivia sat down behind her desk. “Once all the t’s are crossed, I planned to have the money transferred into the bank account of your choice.” She opened her briefcase and took out her checkbook. “But I’ll be more than happy to write you a check to tide you and your brothers over. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.” She had just finished signing the check for ten thousand when a hand covered hers. While most people had a body temperature of ninety-eight point six, it seemed that Deacon’s was well above.
“There’s no need for that, Olivia,” he said.
She studied his long-fingered hand and the dark hair on his muscled forearm. “Then why are you here?”
Before he could answer, there was a tap on the door, and Jason stuck his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, Ms. Harrington”—he glanced at Deacon—“but I need to speak with you right away.”
Thankful to get away from his mind-altering heat, she pulled her hand from Deacon and excused herself. “Pardon me. I’ll be right back.” As soon as she got in the hallway, Jason held out the contracts.
“There seems to be a problem.” He flipped through the pages until he got to the last one. “One of the signatures is missing.”
“What?” She grabbed the contracts from him. “You have to be mistaken. I was there when all three brothers signed—” She stopped and looked back at the closed door, then at the empty line beneath the two other signatures. Her heart tumbled all the way down to her feet. Without saying a word to Jason, she strode back into the office.
Deacon was sitting in her chair. He looked at the contract she held in her hand and smiled. Not the smile he’d given Kelly, but a sinister smile, like a cat that had just cornered a mouse. “Problems?”