Charlene Sands – Playboy's Ruthless Payback: Playboy's Ruthless Payback (страница 6)
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. It was a lush, cynical mouth and for a moment she wondered what it would feel like against hers. She turned away. “You need to understand something,” she said as much to herself as to him.
“What’s that?”
“I know you didn’t hire me because I’m a dynamite cook.”
He snorted. “That’s a little self-deprecating.”
“No, it’s the truth.”
He didn’t reply.
“You’re looking for revenge. I’m not entirely sure how you’re going to go about making me pay for something you believe my father did, but be forewarned…”
“Okay.”
She forced herself to look at him. “I’m not going to fall under your spell.”
“No?”
She shook her head. “Instead, I’m going to watch you.”
“Watching me…I like that.”
“And if you get out of line, I’m going to shove you right back in.”
“Olivia?” He raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“What if
The question stopped her…from thinking and from a quick reaction. Mac saw her hesitate, too, and his dark eyes burned with pleasure.
“I think social hour has come to an end,” she said tightly, standing. “I have a lot to accomplish in a short amount of time, so let’s get to work. Show me the bedrooms.”
“All of the bedrooms?” he said with a devious smile.
“Yes.”
He stood, shot her a wicked grin and said, “Follow me.”
Five
“So?”
“How was your meeting with Valentine?”
Olivia hadn’t been back in the office more than five minutes and Tess and Mary were already standing in the doorway to the kitchen, their eyes wide with curiosity.
“Fine,” Olivia said from atop a stepladder. She was searching through an upper cabinet, going through brands of cookware. She wanted to buy just the right one for Mac’s kitchen. “I’m checking out a few things, then I’ll be gone for the rest of the day.”
They walked over and stood beside the counter. Tess asked, “What are you up to?”
“I have to furnish his house. The place is practically empty.”
“The whole house?” Mary said, fingering the stainless fry pan that Olivia had set on the counter.
“Why do you sound so surprised? We’ve done similar jobs before.”
“True.”
Olivia could practically hear Mary’s brain working. She glanced down. “What?”
“Are you furnishing his bedroom, too?”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake. You have too many hormones running around in there.”
Laughing, Tess grabbed a mug from the dish drainer and poured herself a cup of coffee. “We’re just worried about you, that’s all. If everything you said about this guy is true, he’s up to more than just having you refurnish his house to bag a big client.”
“Of course he is. I told you both that.”
Mary put the pan down, grabbed Tess’s cup and took a sip of her coffee. “What if he’s having you design the bedroom he’s going to try and seduce you in?”
“What? You’re both acting nuts. He may be trying to use me, but he’s incredibly clever and creative and interesting in his thinking. Whatever he’s planning has got to be far more elaborate than—” She stopped at the worried looks on her partners’ faces. “What?”
“You like him,” said Mary.
“Oh, come on.”
Tess nodded slowly. “You think he’s ‘clever’ and ‘creative,’ and you probably think he’s hot, too.”
Olivia laughed and stepped down from the ladder. “Of course he’s hot. Anyone with eyes could see the guy is hot.”
“Oh, dear,” Mary began, one hand to her belly as if she were protecting the baby from hearing anything too scandalous.
“Not good,” Tess agreed. “I think I should take over the job.”
“Will you two chill out?” Olivia grabbed a pen from her drawer and began writing down the names of several pieces of cookware. “Mac Valentine may be great-looking and charming and all the other things I said, but I’m not an idiot. He is also an arrogant womanizer with no furniture and no moral compass.”
Tess nodded. “Yeah, that’s pretty much what that article I read last week said. But somehow they made it sound like it was a good thing.”
“What? What article?”
“Tess, go get it,” Mary commanded, then turned back to Olivia.
“Oh, you read it, too,” Olivia said.
Mary shrugged. “I was going through all the old magazines for recycle and you know how once I see something I can’t stop reading, blah, blah, blah…” Tess returned and handed the copy of
Letting out an impatient breath, Olivia grabbed the magazine and quickly flipped through the pages until she found the right one. And she knew it was the right one—not by the page number on the bottom right-hand corner, but by the enormous photograph of Mac and another man sitting on a stainless steel desk, a killer view of downtown Minneapolis displayed out the windows behind them. The spread was called “Workaholic, yet Woman Friendly,” and featured both men holding BlackBerries in one hand and gold bars in the other. The sight of Mac, looking both handsome and arrogant as hell, didn’t bother Olivia at all. It was the picture of the other man who sat beside him that had her stomach turning over.
Tim Keavy.
Her heart pounded furiously against her chest and she broke out in a sweat. The one guy from high school who knew what she truly was, knew her most shameful secret. God, did this mean that Mac knew, too? Was he going to use it against her? Against her father?
Olivia brushed a hand over her face. So much for her calm professionalism around Mac Valentine. Damn him. She hadn’t expected him to go this route. She’d expected a full-out seduction—not using her past against her.
She stared at Mac’s dark, dangerous face. Was it possible that he didn’t know, that this was just an odd coincidence? A nervous shiver went through her entire body. She was going to have to be extra vigilant now. Watch every move he made and be prepared for it.
For a moment she thought about quitting the job, but she didn’t run away from difficult situations anymore. She was no coward. She rolled up the magazine, then grabbed her notes. “I’ve got to go.”
“Just watch yourself, okay,” said Mary.
“I will.” And on her way out the door she tossed the magazine in the trash.
* * *
November snow in Minnesota was said to be only the warm-up act for what was coming in January, but as Mac pulled into his driveway, his tires spinning and begging for chains as thick flakes of snow pelted his windshield, he wondered if Christmas had already come and gone without his knowing.
He pulled into the dry haven of his garage and shut off the engine. For a moment, he just sat there. He’d left the homes of many women before, but never had he come home to one. Yes, Olivia was an employee so it should have made the situation feel less domestic, but it didn’t. He found her too pretty, too passionate, too smart to be just an employee.
When he entered the house a few minutes later, he heard the clanging sound of pots and pans being put away, and walked the short distance to the kitchen. His body instantly betrayed him as he spotted Olivia bending down, stacking pan lids on a shelf inside the island. Her dark hair was pulled back in a girlish ponytail and her pale skin looked flushed from all the activity. She wore a red sweater that hugged her breasts and waist, and jeans that pulled deliciously against her firm, round bottom. Devilish thoughts went through his head…like how good it would feel to be there when she stood up, to wrap his arms around her waist, to feel her backside press against him, to slip his hands under that soft wool sweater and feel her skin, her bones and her nipples as they hardened.
She turned then, caught him staring at her and gave him an expectant look. There was nothing new in it, she sported this look quite often, but today there was something more in her eyes, as though she seemed to be silently accusing him.
He dropped his briefcase and keys and walked into the room. She’d done wonders. The space was perfect, homey, yet surprisingly modern with its green, gray and stainless steel accents. She had actually created a family kitchen for him, based on his tastes. She was damn good at what she did, and he couldn’t wait to experience the aspect of the job were she had the most skill: the cooking.
“Well, Ms. Winston,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re going to make some man a great wife.”