Lori Borrill - The Personal Touch

And in reality, if it weren’t for what he’d heard from Carmen, that might have been true.

Clint had already been impressed with Margot after their meeting, and then the contract she’d drawn up etched another checkmark in her favor. She hadn’t missed a beat in the five-page document. Every point had been covered in a manner that was clear and firm, yet fair to both parties. And the fact that she’d whipped it up overnight underscored the fact that his intuitions had been on the mark.

Margot Roth was as sharp as she was sexy, a fact that both intrigued and dismayed him.

Because after returning from her office, he’d made a beeline to Carmen to find out everything he could about the beautiful matchmaker with the big brown eyes. And what he’d learned was that if he wanted more than her business, he’d come around a month late. Apparently, Margot had a boyfriend, and though the relationship was new, Carmen seemed to think it was already serious.

Clint couldn’t deny that the news irked him, not so much because she was taken, but because he’d only missed her single status by a few short weeks.

He hated being denied something he wanted, but even more than that, he couldn’t shake the inexplicable feeling that she should be his. He didn’t know where it came from. Hadn’t felt that way about a woman before. It was just this thing that had come over him and kept sticking like glue. An overwhelming feeling of possession.

It was like walking into a gallery and seeing a painting he knew he had to have. If pressed to articulate why, he’d have a hard time because it wasn’t simply the colors, or the style, or the frame or the subject matter. It was the way they all came together in a package that hit that special sequence of buttons.

Except this time, the artwork had a big Sold sign on it.

“Have I seen her in any films?” his mother asked.

“Margot isn’t an actress.”

“Oh, so she’s a model?”

He frowned. “I date women besides models and actresses, Mother.”

“Then what does she do?”

“I don’t know. Some kind of counselor.” He followed her onto the terrace, where she proceeded to set the table while he put out the steaks and readied the grill. “We only spoke briefly while we were ordering lunch. I intend to find out the details tonight.”

“Well, I’ll hand it to you. You don’t have trouble finding women, that’s for sure.”

The doorbell rang and he glanced at his watch to see that she was exactly fashionably seven minutes late. Hell, even her promptness was perfect. As he trekked to the front door, he reminded himself that Margot was here on business, and as much as he would have liked to throw in the pursuit of pleasure, it wasn’t worth harming his integrity. His father had always told him that in their business, honor and reputation meant everything, and one’s personal life could never be separated from the job. Few people could get away with being unscrupulous in private while still maintaining respect in the business world, and rather than test those waters, it was best to regard all aspects of his life as a piece of the whole. Do right by people, and for the most part, people will do right by you.

In this case, that meant not trying to steal a woman from another guy, no matter how much he might want her.

But as he opened the door and saw Margot standing there in a sexy yellow sundress, her dark coffee eyes bright and dewy and that smile wide and inviting, he couldn’t stop one phrase from taunting him.

All’s fair in love and war.

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