The Inconvenient Laws of Attraction. Trish Wylie
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inspired confidence if Blake hadn’t known him better. ‘Do what you gotta do, Anders.’
That was that, then. Another thought occurred to him and he began to smile as they walked towards the subway station. No reason he couldn’t have some fun along the way. Never let it be said he couldn’t multitask.
Olivia Brannigan’s life was about to get interesting.
CHAPTER TWO
‘NOW, remember, you can’t kill a client.’
Be prepared to ante-up? He would collect? Who did he think he was? Inside her head, Olivia was laughing the derogatory laugh of a woman in serious self-denial. But who was she kidding? She hadn’t been able to resist a battle of wills since the second grade.
‘Potential client,’ she corrected, tucking her cellphone between her shoulder and her ear so she could reach into her briefcase. ‘And right now I’m not even sure I can work with this guy. He’s—’
‘Sexy as sin?’ Jo asked in a tone that suggested she was batting her eyelashes.
‘Not helping.’
Grimacing at the pain from a rapidly growing blister, Olivia checked the address on the folded piece of paper and lifted her gaze to the numbers above the doors in a neat row of brownstones. Being forced across the Brooklyn Bridge in searing midday temperatures to play messenger girl in the most inappropriate heels known to messenger-kind helped—as did the fact he’d demanded the files immediately.
Difficult clients she could handle. Raging sexual attraction to a man she might have to work with on a daily basis, not so much—and since a simple game of pool had felt a tad too much like foreplay …
Catching sight of a dumpster outside one of the houses, she checked for traffic and crossed the street.
‘You know what would help?’ Jo asked.
‘I’m not having sex with him,’ she answered firmly, wondering just who it was she was trying to convince. ‘He’s a client.’
‘Potential client and you can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.’
Not under oath she couldn’t. Her imagination had been having a field day, particularly in the restless hours she spent tossing and turning in bed before her alarm went off.
The number above the door matched the one on the piece of paper. Olivia’s voice lowered to mutter, ‘Here we go.’
‘I’m just saying …’ cajoled the voice in her ear.
‘I know. I meant I’ve got to go. I’m here.’
‘Ooh, call me back with the blow-by-blow. I want details. What he’s wearing. How he looks. What he says. Don’t leave anything out!’
Olivia smiled. ‘I’m hanging up now.’
With her cellphone tucked safely away in a pocket at the front of her briefcase, she put her jacket on over her sleeveless blouse and buttoned it up as she walked up the steps to the open door, pausing to remove her sunglasses and check her appearance in a nearby window. Loud music echoed from the floor above while she sidestepped debris in the hall and sighed heavily. No air conditioning. Great.
‘Hello?’
The downstairs rooms were deserted but on the first floor landing the loud squeal of a power tool drew her to a room where she waved a hand to have her presence acknowledged. ‘Do you know where I can find Blake Clayton?’
The man pointed upward before continuing his work. On the second floor, she met a semi-naked man in shorts.
‘Blake Clayton?’
‘Top floor.’
Of course he was. She brushed her shoulder on a wall while trying to avoid a stepladder, and then twisted her neck to search for signs of damage to her jacket as she moved to the next set of stairs. It was getting hotter by the floor. Wasn’t hell supposed to be downstairs?
‘Whoa!’ Two large hands grasped her elbows when she caught her heel on a loose floorboard and stumbled forward. ‘Careful, lady.’
Scowling briefly at the dusty fingerprints semi-naked man number two had left on her linen sleeves, she forced a smile as she lifted her chin. ‘Olivia Brannigan from Wagner, Liebstrahm, Barker and DeLuise. I wonder if—’
‘You should get that printed on a T-shirt,’ a rough-edged voice said above her head, sending a shiver of awareness down her spine. ‘Save time on the introductions.’
Her gaze lifted to where he was leaning casually on the banister, her breath catching. Did he look sexier than he had the last time? How was that possible? Before she could open her mouth, he turned and disappeared, leaving her to make her way up the stairs and peek through several doors until she found him again. It was beginning to feel as if she’d spent half her life looking for him.
‘I have the papers you requested.’
Swiping a cloth over his large hands, he ignored her and began staining the carved piece of wood laid out on a workbench in front of him.
‘It’s a list of personal assets and properties.’
‘You’d think I’d know that if I requested them.’
‘You didn’t request them?’ Not that she’d been there when the call came in, but Carrie on the front desk was normally pretty reliable when it came to—
‘Stalking me again?’
‘I have never stalked you.’
‘Some guys might be flattered.’
‘I don’t think your ego needs any help.’
Had she said that out loud? Maybe he hadn’t heard her over the echoing music? The corner of his mouth twitched. Oh, he’d heard. Well, as overjoyed as she was to be a source of amusement to him …
Looking for somewhere to set the file down, her gaze fell on a heavy bed with ornate scrollwork on the posts and a huge headboard carved with curling leaves and branches; incredibly lifelike birds and squirrels were scattered at random intervals. It was practically a work of art. Olivia glanced sideways at him as dense, dark lashes lifted and his intense gaze locked with hers.
The temperature in the room jumped several degrees, a bead of moisture trickling into her cleavage. The woman immediately wanted him to lick the same path it had taken. Even the professional’s mouth was dry.
‘Did you make that?’ She waved the file in the general direction of the bed.
‘Showing an interest in what I do the next step in your plan, is it?’
She had to know. ‘Are you this judgemental with every one or have I been singled out for special attention?’
‘You want my special attention, sweetheart, all you got to do is ask.’
Shaking her head, Olivia wondered why she was surprised. She should be getting used to it by now, and the accompanying reaction from her body when she realised she was standing within a few feet of evidence he was good with his hands.
‘You can leave the file.’
He was dismissing her after she’d trekked halfway across the city in temperatures the equivalent of the face of the sun? Olivia didn’t think so. Not till they’d cleared up a few things.
‘Mr Clayton.’
‘Blake.’
‘If I’m going to work with you—’
‘Work with me. Hmm.’ He dropped the brush in the can of wood stain. ‘Still haven’t figured it out, have you?’
‘Figured what out?’
‘Didn’t you