More Than Perfect. Day Leclaire
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at his use of the word woman, pleased to see him wince. Huh. Maybe she’d patent the look. It was certainly coming in handy. “You should know all about hell, Lucius.”
A grim expression closed over his face and he snatched up the cut glass decanter, splashing more scotch into his glass. “I should and I do.”
Despite the threatening storm clouds, Angie refused to back down. “I don’t doubt it.” She lifted an eyebrow in open challenge. “Anything else you’d care to add about my appearance?”
He took a long swallow, regarding her over the rim of his tumbler with intense black eyes. “Not a chance.”
“I didn’t think so.” She gestured toward his glass. “Put the ice back on your face or you’ll have to explain that bruise to your clients. I shudder to think what sort of nosedive your reputation will take when you’re forced to admit you were coldcocked by a woman.”
“That’s not how I’m going to tell the story.” Still, she couldn’t help but notice that he rested the glass against his jaw—an aching jaw if she didn’t miss her guess.
She offered an angelic smile. “No, but it’s how I plan to tell it.”
“How the hell could I have thought you’d make the perfect PA?” he snarled. “I must have been out of my mind.”
“Agreed.” Unable to contain her curiosity, she asked, “What in the world did you say to Ella that made her so mad?”
His annoyance intensified. “You would think it was my fault.”
“Do I owe you an apology?”
She could see the internal debate rage, before he settled on admitting the truth. “No, it was my fault. I made the mistake of proposing to her.”
Angie struggled to breathe. He couldn’t have hit her any harder if he’d been the one doing the kickboxing. “What?”
He glanced her way and blew out a sigh. “Oh, get over it, Colter. This isn’t high school. We’re not talking about some grand romance. Hell, I’ve only known the woman for two weeks. I made a business proposition that involved marriage and for some reason that ticked her off. Go figure.”
Her world righted itself and she found she could breathe again. It took a second longer to settle her face into something that passed for mild interest. Another few seconds to gain control over her vocal cords so she didn’t sound as shrill as a steam whistle. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized just how bad she had it, just how desperately she’d fallen for him. His brilliance. His innate kindness, a kindness he worked so hard to encase in a cold, tough exterior. The wealth of inexplicable pain buried in his eyes, and no doubt his heart. In the year and a half she’d worked for him, she’d gotten to know the man behind the reputation. And with that knowing had come the sort of love she’d only played at with Ryan, skating across the surface of the emotion without embracing the true depths and scope.
Gathering her control, she allowed a cool smile to drift across her mouth. “You’re right, Lucius. I can’t imagine why any woman in her right mind would find a marriage proposal phrased as a business proposition in the least offensive,” she commented drily. “Go figure.”
Lucius set his glass down with a decisive click that caused the ice to shiver in warning. He took a step in her direction and fixed her with a dark, impenetrable gaze. “You have an opinion to offer on the subject?”
She didn’t answer the question directly, didn’t dare. “Is this about Mikey?” She couldn’t help the softening that came into her voice when she said the name, any more than she could help the softening that invaded her whole being when she held the baby in her arms and imagined what it would be like to have something so precious come from her own body.
He hesitated and she could tell that he wanted to rip her apart in order to release some of his fury toward Ella. But he wasn’t the type to take his aggression out on an innocent. He gathered himself, banked the fire, then nodded. “Yes,” he admitted. “This is about Mikey.”
“You’re attempting to find someone who would make a suitable wife for you and a good mother for the baby?”
“Again, yes.”
“And you expected Ella to jump at the opportunity after a two-week courtship?”
His teeth came together with a snap. “I had my reasons for believing it a distinct possibility. Are you done with the cross-examination?”
He’d reached the end of his rope and she responded accordingly. “Absolutely.”
“Then may I suggest we get some work done? We still have to finalize the schedule for my meeting with Gabe Moretti.”
She touched the screen of her tablet and called up the pertinent information. “He’s agreed to go in on the Richter building with you?”
“Only if I give him majority interest.”
“No doubt,” Angie replied. “But if he remodels it the way he did Diamondt Towers, it’ll be well worth the investment, even with only a minority stake.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“No, it never is.” He was a man who needed to hold the reins. Unfortunately, so was Gabe Moretti. “Will Moretti concede the point?”
“We plan to meet and discuss terms.”
Meaning … no. Moretti had no intention of giving up majority interest, which suggested a showdown between titans. What she wouldn’t give to see that! She touched an app on the screen that accessed Lucius’s calendar. “Would you prefer a lunch meeting or dinner?”
He considered, took another sip of his refilled drink before returning it to his jaw. “Dinner on Friday. Let’s make it at Milano’s on the Sound. Speak to Joe personally about the menu, would you?”
She made a quick notation. “I’ll take care of it. Eight o’clock work for you?”
“Only if it works for you.”
Angie’s poise faltered for a telling instant before she gathered herself back up. “Sorry?”
“Now that Ella’s out of the picture, I’ll need you to attend with me. You’re one of the most observant people I know. I could use your input on this.” His smile drew attention to features devil-perfect and sinfully attractive, and her heart gave a sharp, painful tug. “Problem?”
She dragged her gaze away from his dark, angel beauty and focused on the tablet, pretending to make a quick notation. “I’ll check my schedule and get back to you.”
“Right. You do that.”
She let the hint of mockery wash over her. “Next. 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. If it isn’t anything you want me to deal with, I’ll forward it to your PDA.”
“Go ahead and do that.”
She hesitated. “That name is familiar for some reason. Should I know it?”
“It’s possible. His nephew is Justice St. John, the robotics wunderkind. Pretorius specializes in computer software.”
Wow. “Okay, color me impressed that you have a software inventor willing to tweak one of his programs in order to fit your personal specifications.”
“You know, there are some days I think you forget who you’re working for.”
“Oh, dear. Not again.” She made an exaggerated curtsy. “I do apologize, Mr. Devlin, sir. I promise I’ll be more careful in the future.”
“See that you are.” His eyes glittered with laughter while he studied her, curiosity spilling into the intense darkness. “I don’t intimidate you in the least, do I?”
“No.”