The Millionaire Meets His Match

by Kate Carlisle

  Standing in front of the copy machine, Trish realized she had some serious decisions to make. Where would she go from here? What would she do? She leaned against the machine, closed her eyes and exhaled wearily. It was time to admit that she was in deep trouble.

  After all, it wasn’t bad enough that she’d slept with the man she’d once considered her worst enemy, the man she’d held responsible for destroying her happiness and the life of her beloved grandmother. And it wasn’t bad enough that the man she’d slept with was her boss, the person whose company she’d infiltrated in order to destroy him. And it wasn’t even bad enough that she’d made a promise to her grandmother on her deathbed that she would avenge the wrongs done to Grandma Anna and her neighbors, that she would find a way to make Adam Duke experience the same level of pain that she and Grandma Anna had known.

  No, what was really, really bad was that she couldn’t wait to be in his arms all over again.

  But it couldn’t happen again.

  The copy machine stopped and Trish jolted at the abrupt silence. In that moment it became crystal clear exactly what she would have to do. A switch had been thrown inside her conscience. Even though she hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night and now felt as though she were walking through a heavy fog, she knew at last the direction she must take. Deathbed promises were not to be treated lightly. She’d betrayed not only her grandmother but all her old neighbors by becoming involved with Adam Duke.

  How could she ever face her old friends again?

  There was only one thing to do.

  She had to tell him she could never have sex with him again. If she didn’t put a stop to it now, her goal of righting the wrong she’d set out to do would have to be written off as a total failure. Which meant that it wouldn’t be Adam who was destroyed. It would be Trish.

  As she walked back to her desk with the stack of copies, she concluded that she would talk to Adam as soon as possible. It shouldn’t be difficult. After all, why would he care that she was refusing to sleep with him again? He had a million women waiting in line for the same opportunity.

  She wrinkled her nose at the thought. Even if that was true, she didn’t like to think about all the women in the world who were chomping at the bit for a chance to have wild jungle sex with Adam Duke. It was downright depressing.

  As she sat down at her desk and began to check her e-mails, she shook her head in dismay. All those women. Just waiting in line. Why in the world would he even give a hoot that plain old Trish James would never make love with him again?

  “No, absolutely not.” Adam had heard enough. He stormed across the office and halted within a foot of her. “I refuse to accept your resignation. You’re still my assistant, Trish. There’s work to do. So, go back to your desk and do…something.”

  “Do something?” she repeated, then had the nerve to smile at him.

  “You heard me,” he grumbled. “Go.” He waved his hands as if to shoo her away. Dammit, he couldn’t be this close to her without inhaling her luscious scent. He wanted to strip her naked and nail her against the wall. Probably not a good idea to bring that up, given her present mood.

  “Adam, please,” she said patiently, as if she were a wise parent and he a recalcitrant child. “I didn’t say I was resigning. I said I’d been rethinking my job here at DDI.”

  “Yeah, I heard you,” Adam said, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. “I just don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. Rethinking. I’ll probably be sorry I asked, but what the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that things have become complicated,” she said carefully. “It means I don’t think we should…” she huffed out a breath and fisted her hands against her thighs in frustration. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

  He took another small step toward her. “Yeah, Trish. Spell it out for me.”

  “We can’t have sex again,” she shouted, then slapped her hand over her mouth and stared at him in astonishment.

  “Okay.” He grimaced and rubbed his ear. “I don’t think they heard you down on the third floor.”

  “See what you made me do? I didn’t mean to yell.” The apology was a bit muffled as she still had her mouth covered.

  “That’s okay,” he said, and reached for the hand covering her mouth to coax it away. “I don’t agree with your ‘rethinking’ plan but I appreciate your honesty.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course I do,” he said, keeping a strong grip on her hand. “And I’ve got to say, I also appreciate your feelings.”

  “Really?” She gave him a suspicious sideways glance. “Well, thank you.”

  He nodded. “You’re welcome. And I’m really glad you’re not quitting.”

  “I would never leave you in the lurch.”

  “I’m glad.” He stroked her shoulder paternally. “I need you, Trish.”

  She nodded earnestly. “I know. And I won’t let you down.”

  He continued the stroking, gradually moving his hand up to cradle the back of her neck. “You never have.”

  “Um.” She craned her neck ever so slightly to allow him more access. “Thank you, Adam.”

  “No problem.”

  “Okay.” She bit her bottom lip, then said, “Well then, I guess I’ll just go…do…something.”

  “Yeah, one thing before you go,” he said, then bridged the short distance between them by tugging her close to him.

  “Um, what are you doing?” she asked warily as they stared at each other.

  “Just testing a theory,” he said, and nipped gently at her ear. It was gratifying to hear her moan.

  “But-”

  “You see,” he murmured as he ran slow, nibbling kisses along her jaw. “In the interests of full disclosure, I should tell you that I absolutely do intend to have sex with you again.”

  “Oh,” she said, breathing out a sigh as he licked the pulse point at the base of her neck. “But really, that’s not a good idea. And I-I should get back to…um, work.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” he said, eliciting a strangled sob from her as he cupped her breast through her silk blouse. “I won’t keep you too long.”

  She arched her back, then groaned, “How can this be happening again?”

  “I’ll show you,” he said, and covered her mouth with his in a devastating kiss that left no doubt about his intentions. Dammit, he’d missed the taste of her. Now he wanted to savor every inch of her skin, inside and out. In seconds, he was reaching to unzip her pants while she fumbled for his belt.

  He’d thought after one night that he would’ve had his fill of her. He’d figured he’d be calling her bluff this morning, revealing her to be the gold digger that she was. But as soon as Trish had tried to call it quits, he’d known he wasn’t ready to end it with her. The fact that she’d tried to end it first was something he’d have to think about.

  Was she playing him? Was she deliberately being coy in hopes that he’d be the one to push for a relationship? A relationship that would lead to him standing at the altar watching her walk down the aisle?

  While that vision should’ve been enough to send him running for cover, it didn’t matter right now. He still wanted her, still needed her with a bone-deep passion that was relentless. And until the need faded, he wasn’t about to let her go.

  “Adam, touch me,” she whispered.

  “Glad to,” he said. Picking her up, he walked her backwards, then pressed her against the wall and urged her to wrap her legs around his waist. “On second thought, I’m keeping you here all morning.”

  Her office telephone rang at five o’clock. Trish ran back to her desk, recognized Adam’s cell phone number and grabbed the phone.

  “Hey, Trish,” he said, his deep voice sending waves of desire through her entire body. How could the sound of his voice make her so weak? Oh, she was such a goner.

  “Listen,” he continued, “I’d like you to stop by my house and drop off the Spirit file on your way home from work
tonight. Will that be a problem?”

  “No problem at all.” Trish slid back into her chair and mentally smacked herself. Work. He was calling about work. What had she expected? He was her employer, remember? She worked for him. For goodness’ sake, she really needed to get a life.

  “If you don’t have plans,” he continued, “I can pay you back by cooking dinner.”

  Dinner? He wanted to cook her dinner? She knew she should say no. It was inviting trouble to continue seeing him. And dinner at his house? Oh, please, she would never make it home. Come on, Trish. You can do it. Open your mouth and say, no. Say thanks, but no thanks.

  “I really shouldn’t,” she hedged, and wanted to kick herself for not being firmer in her refusal.

  “Do you have plans already?”

  Tell him yes!

  “Uh, no,” she said, then rolled her eyes. What was wrong with her? Why didn’t she just lie? Because he would’ve seen right through it. She was a really bad liar, just as Deb always told her.

  “Then stay for dinner.”

  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “I thought you were into health and nutrition.”

  “I am,” she said, frowning. What did that have to do with anything?

  “You need to eat dinner,” he cajoled. “It’s not good to skip meals.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not skipping-”

  “Look, Trish, you’re bringing me work files. It’s just business. I’d like you to stay for dinner so we can discuss the opening-night festivities.”

  She sighed. “Yes, okay, fine.” You wimp!

  “Great,” he said jovially. “I’ll grill some steaks. See you in a while.”

  She placed the phone down, then her head hit her desk with an audible thunk. What was wrong with her? What part of we can’t have sex again! did she not understand? Of course, as soon as she’d thrown those words at him this morning, he’d taken up the challenge. And she’d bent to his will like a floppy licorice stick. But oh, God, that frenzied round of wild sex against his office wall? Sweet Georgia Brown, for as long as she worked for DDI, she would always look fondly on that particular wall.

  “Excuse me,” a soft, female voice said. “Is Adam Duke here?”

  With a start, Trish lifted her head. She hadn’t realized anyone was here, hadn’t heard that woman’s footsteps because of the thick carpet that covered the wide hallway.

  “Hello.” Trish stood, straightened her jacket and brushed her hair back as she surreptitiously studied the woman who was several inches shorter than Trish and definitely more voluptuous. She didn’t recognize her and wondered who she might be. A client, maybe? The woman wore a lovely coral halter dress that accentuated her remarkable cleavage, and her perfectly highlighted blond hair was pulled up in a sexy updo. She was beautiful and from the looks of her diamond-encrusted watch, buttery soft taupe purse and matching open-toe high heels, she was wealthy, as well.

  “I’m sorry,” Trish said. “Mr. Duke is not available.”

  “Oh, dear,” the woman said. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  She sighed. “I was told he worked late most evenings, so I took a chance, hoping he might be available for cocktails tonight.” She opened her purse and handed Trish a business card. “I guess we’ll do it another night.”

  “Are you a friend of Adam’s?” Trish asked warily as she gripped the business card. Even the woman’s stationary was expensive.

  “I’m Brenda,” she said smoothly. “He’ll know who I am. Are you sure he won’t be back tonight?”

  “I’m afraid not,” Trish said. “He’s gone for the day.”

  Brenda sighed again and glanced at her elegant watch. “Tonight really would’ve been ideal.”

  “I’ll be glad to give him your card.”

  “Please do,” she said, then flashed a knowing smile. “He’ll want to know I came by.”

  “Of course, he will.”

  “Okay, then.” She turned to leave, then stopped and looked back at Trish. She hesitated, then said, “Please let him know that I’m really looking forward to getting to know him better.”

  Trish smiled tightly. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”

  “Thank you,” Brenda said, then walked away.

  “No, no, thank you,” Trish murmured as she watched the woman stroll down the hall.

  The potatoes were baking in the oven, the wine was opened and breathing, the steaks were marinating. As the doorbell rang, Adam put the salad he’d just made into the refrigerator to chill.

  “Perfect timing,” he murmured, then jogged to the front door, opened it and smiled. “Come on in.”

  “Sorry I can’t stay,” Trish said breezily as she shoved the thick Spirit file into his chest. He struggled to catch it.

  “What’s this?” Adam said, taken aback. “Why can’t you stay?”

  “I just remembered a previous engagement,” she said through clenched teeth. “Oh, and by the way, Brenda said to say hi.”

  “What?” Adam shook his head. “Who’s Brenda?”

  “Oh, that’s nice,” she said tightly. “You date so many women, you can’t even remember their names.”

  “No, I-”

  “And she was so disappointed you weren’t there. Here’s her card. You be sure to call her for a good time. Oh, hey, maybe she’d like to come over for dinner.”

  “Trish, this is ridiculous. What’s going on?”

  “I’ve had my eyes opened.” She seemed to deflate before his eyes. “Never mind. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I never should’ve gotten involved. It was wrong. You’re my boss.”

  “That doesn’t matter,” he insisted. “Please, Trish, don’t-”

  “Good night, Adam.”

  “Wait. Will I at least see you Monday?”

  She sniffed. “I told you I wasn’t going to leave you in the lurch. I don’t go back on my word.”

  Adam couldn’t be sure but he thought she looked close to tears. He grabbed her hand. “Trish, I don’t know what happened but we can-”

  “No. I’m sorry.” She pulled her hand free and backed away from him. “I can’t. I just can’t do it.”

  “Move it a little more to the left, boys,” Sally said, and Adam and Brandon groaned in unison. “I think it’ll look beautiful centered on the window, don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Adam said, straining as he moved the heavy love seat one more inch. Then he dropped his end of the couch and swiped his damp forehead with the sleeve of his denim work shirt. “See, Mom? It’s perfect. It’s staying right here.”

  It was Saturday afternoon and his mother needed to rearrange her furniture. It did no good to ask why. Sally often got a wild hair up her butt to move stuff around for no rhyme or reason. But, hey, it meant free beer and pizza for lunch.

  “Hey, Cam,” Adam called, “bring me a beer, will you?”

  From the kitchen, Cameron yelled back. “No problem.”

  Sally bent her head to the left, then the right, closing first one eye, then the other, trying to make sure the love seat was exactly where she wanted it to be.

  Ignoring her, Brandon plopped down on the couch and yelled, “Bring me a beer, too, will you?”

  “Already on it,” Cameron said, as he walked back into the den, holding three icy bottles. He handed one to each of his brothers, then took a long, satisfying swig from his own.

  “I think it’s perfect, right where it is,” Sally said finally.

  Adam chuckled. “Glad you think so, Mom, because it’s not going anywhere else today.”

  “That stupid little thing weighs a ton,” Brandon groused as he sat back and perched his bare feet on the ancient wide oak coffee table.

  Sally sat down next to him and patted his biceps. “That’s why I keep you around, sweetie. Now, take your feet off the table.”

  He did, but rolled his eyes. “Can you feel the love?” Brandon said, and his brothers laughed.

  Cameron took a seat in one of the leat
her Buster chairs that faced the small couch. Glancing up at Adam, who slouched against the wall, he said, “Everything go smoothly with the Fantasy ADA survey?”

  “Yeah,” Adam said, taking a long sip of beer. “Trish had everything written up the next day and we sent the settlement letter off to the other side. Bob Paxton should have the renovations done within two weeks.”

  “That’s fast.”

  “Yeah,” Adam agreed. “He was motivated.”

  “By anger, I’ll bet.”

  “Exactly.” Adam grabbed a chair from the game table and sat. Just mentioning Trish’s name made him worry and wonder for the hundredth time today, what in the world had happened to her last evening. She’d gone running off and before he could even think to go after her, she was gone. Now he would have to wait until Monday to find out how everything in his world had gone south between the time he called her at five o’clock and the time she showed up at his place less than an hour later. And who was Brenda?

  He missed Trish, dammit. Not that it meant anything. It couldn’t mean anything. He would never allow a woman to become so important that she had the power to disrupt his peace of mind. But Trish was his assistant. They worked well together. And yeah, okay, he wanted to be wrapped up in her naked, hot body more than he wanted to breathe again. But never mind all that. She was a valued employee. Of course he was worried about her. And that’s the story he was sticking to.

  “So, how is Trish?” Brandon asked casually. “How’re things going?”

  Adam flashed him a look of warning but said nothing.

  Sally perked up. “Who’s Trish?”

  “She’s my assistant, Mom,” Adam said tightly. As if she didn’t know.

  “Oh, I’ve spoken to her on the phone. She sounds so sweet.”

  Cameron snorted as Adam slumped over in the chair, rolling his eyes.

  “Who’s Trish?” Brandon repeated with a chuckle. “That’s real funny coming from you, Mom.”

  “It is?” Sally said. She glanced from one son to the other, then shook her head in confusion. “I guess I don’t understand your male sense of humor.”