Tyler outlined his dilemma to Jack. "Courtney is the only one who got him to quiet down at all," he concluded. His voice was raspy from shouting over the constant din of a frustrated and angry animal.
"If this Courtney Zane won't work for you, there's not much you can do about it," Jack reminded him. "And you can be a bit overly aggressive sometimes."
"I get the deals done," Tyler argued.
"Yeah. Mostly. But chicks are different. You need to treat them with respect."
That was a laugh, coming from Jack. The word 'chick' reflected his friend's usual attitude toward women. And respect rarely came into it. Jack thought of women as play-toys. He loved them, but in a generic sense.
"Hell, I treat everyone with respect," Tyler reminded Jack. "And I'm going to persuade her to come work for me." He just needed to figure out her angle, because in every negotiation, there is an angle that can be worked--something the other guy needs more than he, or she, needs to say no to your offer.
Jack grinned at him. "Not this time. What are you going to do? Get her tossed out on the street?"
Tyler took a breath to tell Jack what he could do with his sarcasm, then stopped abruptly, one finger already wagging in Jack's direction. "That's exactly what I'll do."
He reached for his phone. It might cost a few bucks, but what was the point of being a billionaire if you don't spend it?
* * * *
Courtney stared at the paperwork that had appeared on the locked door to her office. It wasn't an eviction notice, exactly. After all, she had a lease. They couldn't evict her in the middle of her term without proper notification and repayment. But the legally worded document might as well have been a coffin nail through her dreams.
Her building had been sold, and the new owner was insisting on repainting the entire structure. And her lease did include permission for the owner to handle repairs. Even if that meant shutting down her access.
Her lease hadn't been written with the idea of her having no place else to live. At the time she'd leased, she hadn't wanted to make a big deal about her plans to move in physically. She suspected her landlord might find some city code somewhere that prohibited living on the premises. As it was, she needed to find a new place to stay--by the next night.
She stumbled into her office. If she'd been her brother, she would have needed a drink. Instead, she took a sip of the hot tea she'd left on the warmer hours earlier when sexy Tyler Atwood had walked into her office.
The tea was terrible. She'd forgotten to take out the teabag and it could have doubled for paint remover. Maybe she could sell it to whatever crew the building's new owner sent in.
She put down her cup just as the phone rang.
"Zane and Associates," she announced, exactly as if the associates had been anything other than the tropical fish she'd also need to find a home for during the next couple of weeks. "Courtney Zane speaking."
"It's Tyler Atwood."
She could have guessed that from the sexy chill his voice sent down her spine. Or maybe from the way he had to shout to be heard over the howls of poor Harvey.
"Yes, Mr. Atwood."
"The name is Tyler, remember. And I'm prepared to offer more money. Double, no triple your normal hourly rate."
"I've already explained--" she cut herself off before she said anything final. Tyler's offer had been unacceptable while she still had her office. But since she needed to find a place to stay and work for the next couple of weeks anyway, she shouldn't let her pride get in the way of common sense. She didn't have the money for more than a cheap motel, and she wouldn't feel comfortable bringing some of her clients into a motel room.
"That'll be six hundred dollars a day," she said. "Two weeks, minimum."
"Sold."
"Uh, plus food."
"You've got it."
"And I'll need office space. I'll continue seeing my other clients."
"Check."
This was too easy. Still, she couldn't think of anything else she thought she could get away asking for. Sexual favors? Uh-un. Courtney knew where that would go. She'd get hooked on Tyler, fall in love with him. Which would be bad enough considering her track record with men, but it would be worse since she'd be nothing but a servant for him.
"All right, you've got a deal." she looked out the window to see a paint truck pulling up. What kind of idiot paints his building when it's sub-freezing outside anyway? The paint would just glob and have to be redone later. Obviously the new owner had more money than sense.
"When would you like me to move in?"
"Two weeks ago."
She had to strain to hear Tyler's voice over Harvey in the background. The retriever must have recognized her voice because he was baying like a hunting hound.
"I'll be there in an hour or so."
He paused. "Thank you."
* * * *
Tyler put on sweats and took Harvey for a run. The dog didn't really howl that much less when he was running but at least moving took Tyler's mind off the noise. Besides, when he put in his iPod earphones and cranked up the volume he could almost persuade himself that the dog's complaints were especially loud fan noises from a live concert.
He and Harvey were completing their second three-mile loop near his house when they spotted Courtney pulling up.
Her SUV shook itself down and collapsed in his driveway and Courtney stepped out, a small suitcase clutched in one hand.
"Where's the rest of your stuff? I'll help you carry it in."
"You don't have servants to do that for you?"
This wasn't starting out right. Somehow Courtney had decided that he was a rich snob. Admittedly, he'd been a bit of a snob at age twenty, but losing everything and starting over from nothing had opened his eyes. He'd gotten ahead since then, but he didn't believe in wasting money just because he had it.
"It's just the three of us," right now he told her. "I have a crew that cleans a couple of times a week." More since Harvey had moved in.
"In that case, I think we're in trouble."
"Jeez, Courtney. I'm not going to assault you in the middle of the night, you know. In the first place, I don't do that kind of thing. In the second, you'll have Harvey to guard you."
Courtney's look just might have been pitying. Pity, for him?
"What?"
"I was talking about my aquarium. It weighs about a ton." She gestured to the back of her SUV where the aquarium, fortunately drained, lay disassembled. Separate containers appeared to hold the fish and water. "I got the painters to help move me out. But I didn't bring any of them along."
"Perfect." He turned to the dog just in time to avoid a bite to his already bruised posterior. "Harvey, it's your job to carry in Courtney's aquarium."
Any hint of a smile abandoned Courtney's face. "I came because Harvey needed me. But if you're going to mock me, I can certainly go elsewhere."
His corporate H.R. people had run a background check on her and he had a pretty good idea exactly how idle that threat was. Courtney Zane only had two hundred dollars in the bank, lived in her office, and her brother lived in a halfway house supported by money Courtney really couldn't afford to give. Courtney wasn't going anywhere. Not unless he totally blew it. He didn't intend to blow it. He'd broken every rule to get her here in the first place.
"Sorry."
She glared at him. "Plenty of people think pet psychology is a joke. But if you don't intend to take it seriously, you shouldn't have hired me."
"I said I was sorry."
She finally nodded. "Maybe I've overreacted."
He gave her a grin. "If you'll take Harvey over for a few minutes, I'll carry in your aquarium."
"Don't break it," she warned him. "Or yourself."
* * * *
The phone started ringing while Tyler was lugging in the last hundred-pound slab of glass.
Despite the cold, Tyler had stripped down to a T-shirt and Courtney was enjoying the show. She'd told herself that his expensive tailored suits had probably hidden some fla
ws in his physique, but the way his T clung to his body proved that theory wrong.
He glanced at the phone, then the slab of glass. "Would you mind getting that?"
She pulled her mind back to the reality that she'd sold out--taken a job as a servant to a dog--and reached for the phone. "Atwood residence."
A surprised pause met her voice. Then, "Who is this?"
It was a female voice.
Well of course it would be a female voice. She figured that a man could only get into as many beds as Tyler's reputation claimed by working his debutantes in shifts.
"This is Courtney Zane. I'm a psychologist consulting with Harvey Atwood."
"Harvey Atwood? You mean the dog? You're a psychologist for a dog?"
She sighed. "Yes."
The pause went on just a moment too long. "I see. Give me Tyler, then."
"May I ask who's calling?"
"It's Eve Atwood. Tyler's mother."
Courtney handed the phone to Tyler silently, hoping that her blush didn't show. The woman had simply been curious about a female answering the phone in her son's home. And Courtney had been rude--rude to her host's mother. This wasn't a great start to her stay.
Harvey chose that moment to begin baying again and Tyler gestured her to the animal.
Right: back to servant mode. Tyler didn't look anything like Courtney's brother, but for a second, that twitch in his shoulder reminded her of her ever-demanding sibling and father.
She gritted her teeth and knelt down by the grieving dog. She could do this. It was only for two weeks, until the painters finished. And with the money she intended to charge Tyler, she'd be able to advertise, maybe even hire a part-time receptionist.
For two weeks, she could ignore the man's sex appeal, ignore the tingles that went up and down her spine like an elevator, and definitely ignore the way she wanted the touch of his lips on her own. She didn't even like Tyler Atwood, for goodness sake. How hard could it be to deny purely physical and frivolous desire?
"She's already worked miracles with Harvey, mother," Tyler was saying. "Yes, she's living with us for a few weeks. While her building is getting painted."
He paused, listening.
"Yes. She happens to be extremely pretty. But the important thing is that she's helping with Harvey. I think a woman's touch is important after Amanda's death, don't you?"
Another pause. "How would I know why someone is painting her building in the middle of the winter, Mother?"
Courtney wondered how Tyler knew about the building getting painted at all. Had she mentioned it? They'd talked a bit while Tyler had struggled with several hundred pounds of aquarium glass but she didn't remember mentioning that. Now that she had Harvey calmed down, she started assembling the aquarium, pretending not to listen to Tyler's end of the conversation. Still, he thought she was pretty. Considering the usual women swarming around Tyler, that was quite a compliment.
"No, Mother. I don't think that's a good idea. I've had to invest heavily in expansion lately and the government is always slow in making payment."
He paused, shaking his head while his mother went on with something Courtney couldn't hear.
"Why don't you go to Paris, then? I know the Concord isn't flying anymore but I'll rent the corporate jet for you… Right. I'll see you in a couple of weeks, then."
He set down the phone and turned to Courtney. "So, how can I help with the aquarium?"
"I'm sorry if I offended her."
"Don't be. She's rude to everyone and then she expects them to make nice to her because she was born into one of Philadelphia's fifty families. She is my mother and I love her, but she can be a trial."
"Sometimes family can be." She understood family problems, and the love that bound families together in pain. Her brother Pete's alcohol abuse had given her a post-graduate education on family dysfunction.
"Mother wants to endow the symphony."
She wondered why Tyler was telling her this. She was just his contractor, his dog's psychologist. But maybe he didn't have anyone to talk openly to. Men like Tyler were generally too proud to think that they might need a psychologist for themselves as well as for their animals.
"That sounds like a good cause."
"That's why I chip in already, to the tune of half-a-million a year. But mother is looking for two hundred million. Freeing up that much cash would hurt the business, would cost jobs."
Courtney's brain boggled at that amount of money. Two hundred million? Her parents' house in Allentown had sold for fifty thousand when they'd moved to Florida. Tyler's mother wanted to give four thousand houses' worth of money to the symphony? Wow.
"At least you told her no."
Tyler shook his head. "It's never that easy with my mother."
Courtney tossed Harvey another treat. It was obvious that Tyler had problems more serious than a disaffected dog. But Harvey's problems, not Tyler's, were her business. She would help Harvey get adjusted to the new life he was living, earn more money than she deserved, and then get on with her life. Maybe someday she'd be able to tell her children about the time she'd worked for one of the richest men in Philadelphia--if she ever had children, which wasn't looking especially likely these days with no man in sight and her biological clock, at twenty-seven, already counting down the years.
"So let's talk about who's sleeping with whom," Tyler said.
Courtney's hand froze in Harvey's fur. What had he just said? Even as her outrage burgeoned, an unwelcome tingle told her that her libido, at least, wasn't completely objecting to the idea of Tyler coming on to her
"I beg your pardon," she said frostily. "I'm planning on staying in this guest suite."
"But the master suite is larger, and Harvey is already settled in there. To the extent that the words settled and Harvey can be used in the same sentence."
If he'd told her that her sexy body was driving him to distraction, he might have had a chance. But using his defenseless dog to try to manipulate her into his bed was purely low.
"I'll sleep in the guest suite, thank you. Does the door bolt?"
"Does the door--" He appeared uncomprehending a few moments. Then understanding dawned, and he looked at her as if she'd started foaming at the mouth. "Oh, for heaven's sake, I'm not coming on to you. I just want to sleep, period. I was hoping you would keep Harvey with you at night so he'll be quiet. I swear, the only sleep I've gotten in the past three weeks was when I was in meetings. And even then I had nightmares because I knew he was at home destroying something priceless or of sentimental value."
Courtney's mouth opened but no words came out. It was just as well that she'd chosen pet psychology rather than human psychology as a career. She'd completely misread the situation and insulted her boss to boot. She had studied human psychology for her undergraduate degree, though, and knew about Freud's theory of transference. According to others, you project onto others motives that you refuse to see in yourself. If the controversial doctor was right, that meant she wanted to go to bed with Tyler.
She had a nasty feeling that Freud, if he were privy to her thoughts, would be nodding sagely at her.
"Let's forget the last little bit of conversation, all right? If you'll entertain Harvey for a couple of hours, I'll get a nap. And then we can see about dinner." Tyler's eyes closed briefly with a blissful look. "Dinner at home with Harvey not stealing the steak off my plate would be some sort of special. If you think you could handle that."
She felt herself go cold, then hot with anger. Just when things seemed to be going well, Tyler would rub her nose in her servile status.
"I don't cook."
It was a lie, but she needed to establish boundaries somewhere--ground rules that gave her some pretenses to being the professional she knew she should be.
"Are you deliberately misunderstanding me? I was asking if you could handle Harvey while I take a nap." Then Tyler gave her the most maddening smile. "Incidentally, I'll do the cooking. Don't touch my appliances. "
He
turned and headed for his bedroom, leaving Courtney with Harvey, her face flaming. What was wrong with her? He must have thought she was a total witch, and a dumb one at that.
"He's an interesting guy," Courtney told the dog. "Not all in a good way, either. So I can't really blame you for going a bit crazy living with him. I've only known him for a few hours and I feel like baying at the moon too. But what do you say we try to figure this out? Together. Like we're a team."
Harvey cocked his head and looked at her like she was the one who needed a psychologist.
Chapter 3
Bliss. Pure bliss.
Tyler rolled off the bed and glanced at his watch. He'd slept for three uninterrupted hours.
That's when he'd started dreaming. And his dreams had put a quick end to his sensations of comfort.
He knew better than to even think about Courtney Zane in a sexual way. Any jury in the country would salivate over the chances to hit a billionaire businessman for millions of dollars in penalties for harassing his employees. As long as Courtney was working for him, he couldn't chase her.
He could control his actions. He could even control his waking thoughts, to some degree. But his dreams?
He stumbled out of his bed and into the shower. A cold shower. In December.
It worked, sort of. He managed to get his bodily responses under control, but mental images from his dreams remained. Images of Courtney draping her body across his, brushing her breasts across his chest, letting her hair down and draping it across his body.
Whoa, boy. He tossed aside his towel and stepped back into the shower.
He waited until his skin took on an unhealthy blue tinge before getting out, pulling on an old pair of jeans and a flannel shirt, and heading downstairs to see about dinner.
He'd promised Courtney he could cook. It wasn't a complete lie, but despite his state-of-the-art kitchen and every fancy food-preparation gizmo known to man, grilling a steak and slapping together a salad was about the limit of his ability.
He walked down to the guest suite portion of his home to find a picture of domestic bliss. The dog and the woman were lying on the floor while Courtney tinkered with a piece of her aquarium's pump. Various fish swum around in their little jugs waiting to be returned to their home.
CEO's S.O.S. Page 3
