Lisa Watson - Love Contract

Adrian sat heavily in his chair. He felt like his head was about to explode. The throbbing in his temples made it difficult to concentrate on the woman standing in front of him. When his assistant had come in to tell him that his nine-thirty appointment was waiting, he had assumed it was a prospective interviewee for the Interior Designer position. How wrong he had been. When Adrian’s assistant told him that the woman he had agreed to meet with had been recommended by his mother, a feeling of dread rippled through his entire body and then pure anger. Interior Designer indeed. This was no interview. It was a setup.

In an effort to calm down, he ran his hand over his face and breathed deeply. Resentment made the air hiss on its way out of his mouth. His mother had gone too far this time. This was his place of business, not some bar. With a practiced eye, Adrian scrutinized the woman that his assistant had shown into his office. He may be mad, but he sure wasn’t blind. She was like a stop sign placed in the middle of a freeway during rush-hour traffic. Her looks demanded a man come to a screeching halt and take notice. Long legs did an excellent job of supporting her curvaceous body. The golden hue of her skin was flawless, except for a splattering of freckles on her upper cheeks and nose. Her hair was the color of rich chocolate, and with golden highlights. The way light reflected off the luminous waves that hung just below her shoulders made the color contrast stunning. It beckoned a man to run his fingers through it. His hands clenched together unconsciously.

Adrian’s gaze sought hers. This time the air that expelled itself from his mouth was for an altogether different reason. Those eyes. Her eyes were the pièce de résistance. They were an expressive, medium brown with flecks of light gold around the outer edge that held both strength and mystery. They could drown a man if he was not careful. And he would love every minute of it, he told himself. Adrian felt an instant reaction to the visual display of beauty before him. Instinct kicked in. His body eagerly anticipated taking the perusal to a whole new level, until he remembered the person responsible for the exquisite vision standing in front of him. Cold water splashed on his face could not have produced a faster effect. Slightly annoyed that he had gone poetic at a time like this, he remembered the catalyst by which this gorgeous woman now graced his presence. I can’t believe this. She’s done it to me again.

That realization was enough to jolt Adrian out of his trance. His ardor was quickly squelched and back under wraps where it belonged. This time when his eyes centered on the woman before him, they brooked no warmth. “I can’t believe she sent you.”

“Who?”

Despite his new motivation to send her on her way, Adrian couldn’t deny that her voice was as appealing to him as warm butter on a biscuit—and he loved biscuits.

“My mother!” The two words burst forth, coating the air with tension. He tried to calm himself. Lord knows it took considerable effort. It would appear that the Love Broker had struck again. Looking at the latest proof of Norma Jean Anderson’s handiwork made his blood pressure skyrocket. Hadn’t they had this conversation hours earlier?

Confusion registered on the woman’s face. “Well, yes. Your mother gave me your card and told me I had to come see you.” Sitting across from him, she shrugged out of her suit jacket. “She told me you were exactly the man I needed.”

“I’ll bet she did,” he quipped. Adrian stood up, his hands straightening his suit. He’d heard enough. She may be working it in all the right places, and his temperature may have risen a degree or two, but there was no way in hell he was taking the bait. No way. “Listen, Miss?”

“Dixon...Milán Dixon.”

“It would appear you’ve wasted your time, Miss Dixon—and mine. As fine as you are, and believe me you are without a doubt the most desirable woman my mother has ever paraded my way, I’m just not interested. Of course, if she had tried a few months ago before I got inundated by trolls maybe I would’ve—”

“Excuse me?” Despite her surprise, Milán scowled at him. “You think this is a...a come-on?”

Though his eyes devoured her, they also held a hint of challenge that transferred itself to his tone of voice. “Like it isn’t?”

Milán was out of her chair with her hands on her hips in an instant. “No, it isn’t. This was supposed to be a job interview.”

Her rapid breathing caused her ample chest to stretch the ecru-colored silk blouse taut. His eyes were drawn to the motion like a magnet on a stainless steel refrigerator.

Coming around the expansive desk, Adrian stopped just shy of wearing her. He was impressed she stood her ground. It would appear his mother had finally found one with spirit. “Oh, my mother set up an interview all right, but it’s apparent from the looks of you a job was the last thing she had in mind.”

Standing ramrod straight, it took a few seconds for Milán to recover. When she did, her voice chilled the air around them like a cold front. “You know, of all the stuck-up, asinine, incredibly rude men I’ve come across in my travels, you, Mr. Anderson, set the precedent.”

He leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest. The smile he wore relayed his admiration. “Interesting. Smart, fiery, yet still able to retain your composure in tense situations. I’m truly impressed. I must say, my mother really outdid herself. Do me a favor. The next time you see Norma Jean, and she asks how her ingenious plan went, tell her this for me.” His arms snaked out and yanked Milán to him. He held her in an unyielding embrace as his lips clamped down on hers.

He felt Milán try to wrench herself free, but she was no match against his strength, or his irritation. He would teach his mother a lesson once and for all, and if he had to use her latest protégé to ram that point home, so be it. With practiced movements, Adrian slid one of his hands up and into her hair at the base of her neck to hold her steady. His other arm moved to encircle her back. He leaned over her, tilting her body backward in order to deepen the kiss. Time slowed and then screeched to a halt for him as he continued the onslaught of Milán’s mouth with deft precision.

The kiss ended slowly. He took his time unlocking his lips from hers. Unable to help himself, he gave one final nibble to her bottom lip before moving his hand to her face. She tasted like nectarines. His thumb that caressed the swollen flesh was slightly unsteady. “Tell my mother I said nice try,” he spoke in a voice thick with emotion, “and Lord knows I do mean nice.”

Adrian reluctantly stepped back so that he could look into Milán’s face. He expected to see her all doe-eyed and flushed. Instead her eyes bored into him with heated purpose. Her jaw was clenched so tightly the lips he had so expertly ravished seconds before were thinned to mere slits.

“Release me,” she ground out. “Now.”

Instantly, she was free. A second later, Milán delivered a well-placed fist to his midsection. Adrian’s world faded momentarily, but not before he saw the expression of satisfaction that slid across her reddened face.

Caught off guard, he sagged against his desk. It took some time, but eventually the pain dulled and he was able to stand up straight. He took a few deep breaths. “I take it you didn’t like my message?”

Milán reached over to grab her jacket off the chair, and a portfolio out of her briefcase. She flung it on his desk, and left. Stopping before she got to the door, Milán spun around to look at him. “If you ever put any part of your anatomy on me again without my permission, I promise you I’ll cut it off. Oh, and just so you know, your mother said you were looking to add an interior designer and staging expert to enhance your practice. Considering the real estate market we’re in right now, that was a wise choice on your part. Regrettably, Mrs. Anderson didn’t warn me in advance how rude and unprofessional her son was—not to mention being a narcissistic jackass. Had she done so, I could’ve saved the price of parking.”