Susan Phillips - Hot Shot

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered. "I can't invite you in. I've got a bad headache."

"You've got a yellow streak," he replied.

She slammed the door on him and went into the living room, where her hands trembled as she snatched up a magazine she had no intention of reading from the glass-topped coffee table. Why did she have to be such a sex maniac? As passionately as she felt about him, she would never be able to hold herself back. When he found out what she was really like, he would probably run from the house in terror. Maybe he'd send her a memo. FROM: Mitchell Blaine TO: Susannah Faulconer SUBJECT: Inappropriate Bedroom Conduct…

He walked into the living room and pocketed the key she had given him when she'd moved into her new home in mid-August.

"I want that key back," she said.

"No, you don't."

She stared at the lushly printed draperies Paige had picked out for her. She loved him so much and she wanted everything to be perfect, but this was real life, not a fairy tale. Remembering that they had something other than sex to discuss, she took a seat on the couch. At least she could postpone the inevitable a bit longer. "I'm not leaving SysVal."

"I don't think you have a lot of choice, Susannah."

"Don't say that!"

He sat down next to her and leaned back into the soft cushions. How could he be so relaxed when she was so uptight? "Somehow I can't picture you living the rest of your life with the fate of three hundred thousand people on your conscience," he said. "Not to mention all those small towns."

"I don't belong at FBT. It's old and stodgy and conservative."

"True. And it's been badly mismanaged ever since your father's death."

"You know as well as I do that they only want me as a figurehead. They'll expect me to use Paige's proxy as a rubber stamp for the majority opinion. Those men don't have the slightest intention of giving me any real power."

Mitch chuckled. "And aren't you going to have a wonderful time showing them the error of their ways?"

She switched tactics. "I don't have a college degree."

"I've got three of them. You want one?"

She tried another path. "I want to have a baby."

His face softened. "Do you? That's great. That is really great. I hoped so, but we haven't talked about it."

"We haven't talked about anything!" She jumped up from the couch. "Don't you understand? The president of SysVal can definitely be pregnant. At SysVal anything is possible. But can you honestly, in your wildest imagination, see the chairman of FBT breastfeeding through a board meeting?"

"Not the old FBT." He smiled, rising to stand next to her. "But the new FBT? The one with an updated product line, a streamlined management structure. The one with onpremises child care. Ah, Susannah…"

For a moment they let the vision sweep over them. It was a vision of a new corporation, one with a strong moral center and a commitment to the world it served. A corporation for the twenty-first century.

He took her hand. "You're thirty-two now, practically an old lady, and I'm thirty-eight. SysVal is a company for kids. We have so many talented people working for us that we barely know what to do with them. Let's get out of their way and let them run with it for a while."

"We both can't just walk out. That's impossible. And I'm not going to FBT without you. Our relationship aside, you're the best marketing man in the business."

"I'll stay at SysVal until the new team is in place and the board members' nerves have steadied. Then I'll join you."

He tilted up her chin with his fingers, and his eyes were soft with the depth of his feelings for her. "I love you, Susannah. Oh, God, I love you so much. All those years, watching you married to Sam. Sometimes I thought I was going crazy."

"I know, Mitch. Oh, my darling, I love you, too."

He dipped his head. A warm, hard mouth settled over hers. His big hands splayed over her back, ran up along her spine, tangled in her hair. His mouth was open, his kiss deep and aggressive. It was a man's kiss, a kiss that gave as well as took. Her breasts crushed flat against his chest as he pulled her closer. She accepted his tongue and gave him her own while she wrapped her foot around the leg of his trousers. He clasped her head between his big hands. It felt so right to be kissing him, so perfect to be in this solid, respectable man's arms. Oh, yes, she had been absolutely right to put little boys behind her.

His hand slid down over her breast. "Time's up, sweetheart," he said hoarsely. "I've been going crazy. I can't wait any longer."

At the touch of his hand on her breast, her nervousness came back in a rush. He was a good kisser, but kissing was only part of it. "Mitch, I'm not sure…"

He drew back and studied her for an agonizingly long moment. Then he tilted his head toward the hallway. "Upstairs, Susannah," he said quietly.

He didn't realize how important this was. He didn't understand that what happened next-or didn't happen-could put a shadow over everything. "Mitch, we may have some difficulty adjusting to-"

"Now."

She spun around and stalked away from him, marching toward the front staircase as if he held a gun at her back. Sometimes she hated engineers. She really did. Her shoes slapped on the carpeted treads. Since her fears weren't quantifiable, Mitch simply refused to recognize them. Everything had to be rational. The man didn't have one speck of intuitive power in his entire body.

She stomped into the bedroom and kicked off her heels. She could hear him behind her, moving at his customary unhurried pace, as if he were on his way to a staff meeting. As he came into the bedroom, she whirled around. "If this is a disaster, don't you dare blame me!"

He stared down at the carpet and shook his head. "I was going to try to be a nice guy about this, but I can see that's not going to work." He lifted his head and glared at her. "Get out of those clothes, Susannah."

She was so tightly strung that her temper snapped. "You go to hell!"

"That does it." He reached for his necktie and yanked at the knot. "I was going to be a nice guy. Not come on too strong. A little moonlight. A few roses." He tossed his tie down on her pretty bedroom chair and threw his suit coat on top of it. Standing there in his shirt-sleeves, he splayed his hands on his hips and let his eyes roam over her as if she were a slave girl placed before him for his inspection. "Apparently, I have to remind you that you've been bought and paid for."

Her heart jumped into her throat. Oh, Lord, he was playing with her. The game wasn't over. A surge of love and desire rushed through her as she realized that he understood how she felt after all. Her tension dissolved. She lifted her chin and pursed her lips in disapproval. "I was not bought."

"Money exchanged hands," he said flatly, stripping off his shirt. "You were bought. Now get out of those clothes so I can get you warmed up."

The man had no shame. She walked over to the bed and slid down on it. Then she drew her legs beneath her and gave him her most smoldering look. "No need to warm up something that's already hot."

For a moment she thought she had him.

He recovered quickly.

"Coming from you, that kind of comment doesn't surprise me at all." His undershirt joined his shirt in a pile on the floor. She swallowed hard at the sight of his chest, already anticipating how it would feel beneath her hands. He kicked off his wing tips and removed his socks. "You may fool other people, Susannah, but don't forget that I have three college degrees and I'm not so easily misled. Beneath that prim exterior of yours, you like it wild. And that's exactly how you're going to get it." In one strong motion, he whipped his belt from the loops of his trousers and snapped it in the air. "You're going to get it wild."