The Last Marchetti Bachelor. Teresa Southwick

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The Last Marchetti Bachelor - Teresa Southwick


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      “I’m not looking to get involved, either.”

      “Good,” she said, popping that tiny bubble of disappointment before it even got started. “Why not?” she asked before she could stop herself. Her penchant for blurting out questions was her greatest strength and weakness.

      He lifted one muscular shoulder in a casual shrug. “I figure after all this time of it not happening, it’s just not in the cards for me. But there’s no reason why we can’t be friends.”

      After what we did last night? she wanted to shout at him. But she kept her cool and said, “I don’t want to waste your time.”

      “Shouldn’t I get to decide if it’s a waste? It’s my time.”

      “Which would be squandered on me. I’m offering you a painless out.”

      “You think love hurts?”

      “Exactly,” she said. Mostly she meant loving and not having it returned.

      He shook his head, and she hated the pitying look he leveled at her. “I’m not sure I buy your explanation.”

      She shrugged. “Every crime has motive and opportunity.”

      “And you think what we did was a crime?”

      “Maybe more like a misdemeanor. But certainly not very smart. Don’t you agree?”

      “Not by a long shot.” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t buy this act of yours. You’re not a swinging-singles woman. In spite of your profession, you’re not a manipulator. You’re not a calculating person. I think for the first time maybe in a long time, you let yourself feel. We were good together, Maddie. We like each other. You got caught up in the moment. You already admitted it was good. From a woman’s first time, there’s nowhere to go but up.”

      Oops. She had given him a weapon to use against her. “It can’t happen again, Luke.”

      “It could,” he said. He raised one dark eyebrow in a suggestive expression that easily kicked up her heart rate. “If you’d let it.”

      “I won’t. Even if I wanted to, which I don’t,” she hastily added, hoping he wouldn’t suspect that she’d just lied. “Your family is one of Addison, Abernathy and Cooke’s oldest and most influential clients.”

      “But you dated Nick.”

      “That was before I was handpicked to handle your company’s legal business. Now there’s a huge potential for conflict of interest.”

      “There’s no conflict. I’m definitely interested.”

      “Be serious, Luke.”

      “I’ve never been more serious. I don’t see how us being friends would be a problem.”

      “Because you’re not a lawyer. At the very least, a close personal association with a client suggests the appearance of impropriety. And even if I believed in love, it would be unprofessional of me to continue seeing you. I’m nothing if not professional.”

      His gaze raked her from head to toe. “In jeans and T-shirt you look about eighteen. But denim on you in court would sway judge, jury and opposing male counsel to whatever you were selling.”

      “You’re not helping,” she said, blushing furiously.

      “Good. I hope I’m making it hard as hell for you to dismiss me.”

      “I’m not dismissing you. But all we can achieve is a friendly working relationship.”

      “We achieved way more than that. And we can’t go back, Maddie.”

      Yes, she could. And there was no time like the present. “The name is Madison.”

      “Since when?”

      “Since we woke up in bed together.”

      Four weeks after Maddie—correction Madison—had shut him down, Luke sat in his office trying to focus on the spreadsheet program staring at him from his computer screen.

      It was almost quitting time, but his bachelor condo held little appeal. And his thoughts kept straying to a petite, green-eyed redhead, her shoulder-length hair curly and wild after he’d run his hands through it.

      He leaned back in his leather chair, linking his fingers before resting his hands on his abdomen. He was CFO of Marchetti’s Incorporated. The family restaurant business was thriving, and he had a million things to do. But even the word spreadsheet brought visions of him and Maddie tangling her bedsheets into his mind, in direct competition with his concentration. Four weeks, for God’s sake. She’d made it clear that they had no chance. Why couldn’t he get her off his mind?

      He was over thirty. He’d known lots of women. He’d done more than his share of dating and a good percentage of those dates had ended up with him spending the night. But he’d easily forgotten them. Why not Maddie? And, dammit, she would never be Madison to him. Frustration curled and knotted in his belly. Did a redhead’s legendary temper spill over into stubbornness? Because she’d picked a hell of a time to display it. What was wrong with having a friendship? He knew better than to ask for forever after.

      He got the feeling that her hesitation to get involved went deeper than she’d told him. He supposed it could have something to do with him, with the fact that he was the black sheep of the family. The only one with blue eyes, more keep-to-himself than outgoing, and the only one just under six feet tall. Except for his sister, Rosie. The point was, he was different. He figured he’d caught a recessive gene not to fall in love; therefore, home, hearth, family wasn’t in the cards for him.

      So why should Maddie take a chance on a guy like that? Especially after her relationship with his brother had fizzled?

      Still, Luke would bet his Marchetti’s Incorporated stock options that Maddie had been telling the truth about not being heartbroken. After discovering she was a virgin, he was even more convinced. Or was that just wishful thinking?

      The intercom on his desk buzzed, startling him from his thoughts. He leaned over and punched the button. “Yes?”

      “Miss Wainright to see you,” his secretary said. “And I’m leaving for the day.”

      Just the sound of her name booted up his pulse. “Send her in,” he answered, trying to keep the hot-damn-I-can’t-believe-she’s-here tone out of his voice. “Have a nice evening, Cathy.”

      “Thank you,” she answered before clicking off.

      Maybe Maddie had changed her mind and they could achieve more than a friendly working relationship. What other reason could she have for coming to his office? Glancing at his computer monitor, he was reminded that she had been handpicked by a senior partner to handle his family’s legal affairs. There could be a dozen things other than his scintillating personality and animal magnetism that had brought her here. She was unpredictable; the night spent in his arms was proof of that.

      He’d best not count on anything with the enigmatic Ms. Wainright. Until notified to the contrary, he would assume she’d come to see him about business concerning Marchetti’s Incorporated. The more business they did together, the sooner he would be able to get her out of his mind. That’s the way it always worked for him.

      His office door opened, and the counselor in question walked in. “Hello, Luke.”

      “Hi.” He stood up. His father had drilled it into all four of the Marchetti boys to stand when a lady entered the room.

      “Do you have a minute?” she asked.

      “Of course. Take a seat,” he said holding out a hand to indicate the leather wing chairs in front of his desk.

      He’d rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt to just below his elbows first thing that morning and loosened his tie. He resisted the urge to straighten it and button his cuffs. With Maddie, he’d experienced an unforgettable,


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