“Dammit.” He couldn’t blame Trish. She was efficient, discreet and intelligent. She seemed to have a good sense of humor. Adam noticed he’d been laughing a lot more lately and wondered if too much laughter was rotting his brain.
The woman was not only good at her job, but actually seemed to care about him. Hell, she even made sure he ordered something healthy for dinner every night he worked late. She’d stood her ground on the health food issue again last night and he’d admired her style while at the same time he’d debated whether he could rip off her clothes, throw her onto his couch and satisfy his true hunger.
Adam had already identified the problem. Lust. Pure and simple. He knew it. He just didn’t know what to do about it. Well, no, actually, he knew exactly what to do about it, he thought ruefully. He just couldn’t figure out when he would have a free minute to find a willing woman and satisfy that particular itch until the Fantasy Mountain resort was a done deal.
He wasn’t going to give in to what he felt for Trish. Not while she was working for him.
So it promised to be one hell of a frustrating month.
An hour later, the intercom rang and Adam grabbed the phone. “What?” he asked a little too curtly.
“It’s your brother Brandon on line 2,” Trish announced.
“Thanks.”
Adam pushed the speakerphone button. “What’s up?”
“Who was that?” Brandon asked immediately.
“My new assistant.”
“Is she hot?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“She must be hot.”
“Goodbye, Brandon.”
“Wait,” Brandon said quickly. “Just wanted to alert you to the fact that Mom had dinner with Marjorie last night.”
“So what?”
“Don’t you get it?” Brandon demanded. “Marjorie’s one of Mom’s oldest friends. She’s got to be in on the scheme. Think about it. Mom’s got our own Human Resources manager working to sabotage us from within the company. They’re perfectly positioned to bring you down.”
“You’re nuts.”
“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Mom’s turned desperate and ruthless. I actually heard her say that you’re going down first, so you’d better be on your guard. Don’t be surprised if they pull an inside job.”
Adam shook his head as his brother’s ranting came to an end. “When did you become so paranoid?”
“Call me names but heed my words,” Brandon said in a serious tone, then added, “Mom wants grandkids and to get what she wants, she has to sacrifice us. You’re her first target, so I’m just saying you might want to beware of strange and beautiful women running amok in your office.”
Adam laughed. “Were you hit in the head with one too many footballs?”
“This is the thanks I get for watching your back?”
“Talk to you later, bro,” Adam said, shaking his head.
“I can only hope so,” Brandon said mournfully, then quickly reminded him about the weekend barbecue at their mother’s house.
Adam was still chuckling when he hung up. He buzzed Trish and asked her to bring him the North Vineyard file. She entered his office and his gaze was immediately drawn to her legs. Again. The dress she wore was office appropriate. Almost too conservative, in fact. It shouldn’t have been sexy, so why were his nerves humming as he watched how well the silky material clung to her curves and skimmed her knees as she made her way across the room?
Small silver buttons ran up the front of Trish’s dress and Adam wondered how long it would take to unbutton them enough to allow the soft fabric to slide off her shoulders and reveal her enticing breasts. In no time, he would have her naked, under him, on his desk.
“Do you want it on your desk?” she asked.
Adam flinched. Could she read his mind? He looked up to see her smiling as she held the thick client folder out for him to take. He exhaled heavily. Chances were, she wouldn’t be smiling if she knew which direction his mind drifted off to whenever she walked into the office.
“Adam?”
“Yeah.” What the hell was wrong with him? He felt a headache brewing and pinched the bridge of his nose. “On the desk. Thanks, Trish.”
“I didn’t know your company owned vineyards.”
“What?”
She pointed to the file. “North Vineyard is part of Duke Cellars. I never made the connection until now.”
“Oh.” He rubbed his forehead and tried to concentrate on the mundane topic. “Yes. We own a number of vineyards and we’ve just had our fourth press. It promises to be a good one. We’ll be opening a resort in the wine country next year.”
“Oh, that sounds exciting.”
“Yeah, it should be a fantastic opening.”
Her eyes glittered with interest and all he could think about was making them shine with passion.
“Are you all right?” she asked, concern in her voice.
“Oh, yeah, great,” he said, clamping down on his urge to pull her onto his lap.
“Are you sure I can’t do anything for you?”
Not unless she was willing to give him a full body massage. “Thanks, no. I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Okay, but I’m right outside and I have aspirin if you need it.”
A cold shower would be more of a help, but Adam nodded. “I appreciate it.”
She turned to leave and he caught the lightest scent of oranges and vanilla. Against his better judgment, he savored the sweetness as he watched her long-legged gait carry her across the thickly carpeted office toward the door. The sway of her curvaceous bottom hypnotized him completely.
Dammit, would he ever be able to relax in his own office again?
“What the-?” He looked around, then made a face as Brandon’s words managed to filter through his distracted mind.
Trish turned. “Did you say something?”
“No,” he said in a strangled tone he barely recognized as his own.
“Okay.” She smiled, then slipped out and quietly shut the door behind her.
“Stop it,” he said aloud, shaking his head in protest. Brandon was seriously deranged and Adam was buying into his obsession, that was all.
“No, I’m not.”
“There’s no way.” He shook his head again and cursed under his breath, then brusquely opened the North Vineyard file and started to study the lease terms. After reading the same convoluted sentence three times, he stopped, looked up and stared at the closed doors leading to Trish’s work area.
He raked his fingers through his hair as he recalled Marjorie’s words four days ago, the morning she brought Trish in to take Cheryl’s place as his assistant.
“Ah, hell,” he muttered. There was no way his brother Brandon was right. It was ludicrous. Trish? A plant? A willing player in his mother’s scheme to marry him off?
Or was she just a pawn?
