by Lucy Monroe
Her gaze slid around the room they were in. Its simplistic design and furnishings had Oriental overtones, but nothing glossy and lacquered. It was all fruitwood, simple lines and natural hues for the upholstery. “This really is magnificent. You must enjoy living here quite a bit.”
The house was much bigger than the home she had shared with Lance and in many ways more grand, yet it still felt like a home. It reflected its owner’s complex, but deceptively simple-appearing approach to life.
“Thank you.” He took her arm and led her to the dining table in front of one of the massive twin stone fireplaces at either end of the room. “Let’s have lunch and you can tell me a little about yourself.”
She allowed him to seat her, feeling strange about a business associate observing the courtesy. In LA, she was used to being treated the same way as her male counterparts in the corporate world.
Flicking her cloth napkin open and then laying it across her lap, she said, “I’m not all that interesting, but I don’t think you’ll find the same true of Extant’s proposal.”
His smile flashed along with a determined glint in his gray eyes that gave her pause. “I prefer to know a person before I discuss business with them. It probably comes from working for a family held company.”
“I see.”
“Good.”
She looked down at the pasta in pesto sauce attractively presented in a flat china bowl. “This looks wonderful.”
“Jacob’s rather proud of his culinary talents.”
“He’s a unique individual.” She meant to be diplomatic.
He laughed, the sound affecting her already off-balance equilibrium. “That’s one way to describe him. Cantankerous is another.”
She didn’t bother asking why Simon kept such a rude man working for him as she took her first bite of the delicious pasta. She thought it was probably just as hard for a recluse genius to find household help as for a cranky old man who cooked like an angel to find a job.
“So, tell me about yourself, Amanda.” It was a line tossed out as easily as a common greeting, and yet his intent stare and deep, controlled voice made her feel like he was asking for more than a rundown on the highlights of her résumé.
She fought against giving in to the compulsion to share on a personal level with him. “I’ve been working for Extant Corporation since graduating from college with a degree in business. This is my second year in the corporate planning division.”
“Are you married?”
Her fork paused midway to her mouth. “I don’t see how that relates to the merger.”
One black brow rose. “I thought I explained I like to know the people I do business with.”
“I believed you meant my business background.”
He poured wine into her glass and then his own. “Did you?”
No she hadn’t. Not really, but it was so ludicrous to think he wanted to know about her. She wasn’t the type of woman to inspire personal interest from a man like Simon, from any man for that matter. Or so her ex-husband had taken pains to point out. “I assure you the most interesting aspects of my life relate to my career.”
“I’m interested in your marital status.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “It seems relevant to who you are. I’m single and I’ve never been married. I rarely date and I spend long hours in my lab ignoring the rest of the world.”
“Oh . . .” What was she supposed to say to that? She couldn’t begin to understand why he was telling her this stuff. He must be very serious about wanting to personally know the people he did business with. She supposed that made sense considering most of his current business associates were family or employees for his family’s company.
“I’m not married.” She didn’t add that she was divorced. “I don’t have time to date.” Something flickered in his eyes at that. She supposed he was noticing, as she was, that they had quite a bit in common. “And I’m focused almost exclusively on my work.” In fact, her only friend outside work was Jillian.
Which reminded her. “Do you have a television?” She couldn’t believe she was asking him this. It was totally unprofessional, but then the man insisted on having a business meeting in his home and grilling her about her marital status. He couldn’t be that concerned about professional behavior.
His black brows rose. “No.”
She couldn’t quite stifle a sound of regret. Jillian was going to be so disappointed.
“I believe Jacob has one, however.”
“Jacob?” Asking Simon to allow a thirty-minute break in their meeting so she could keep her promise to Jillian was not nearly as intimidating a prospect as asking Jacob for the loan of his television.
“Yes. He likes British comedies.”
That would mean he had cable. He’d definitely get Jillian’s soap opera. “My best friend is a regular in a daytime drama. She wants me to watch her show today. She’s really proud of her scenes.”
It had been worth asking, to see the bemusement on Simon’s features. He’d been knocking her off-balance since they met and she found herself relishing this small opportunity to get her own back again.
“You want to watch a soap opera?”
“Yes. My friend said it was only the first thirty minutes I needed to see. I hate to ask for a break like that and realize it isn’t quite professional, but I promised.” Waiting for Simon’s answer, she realized she would never have made the same request of his cousin, Eric Brant.
“What time is the show on?”
“At one o’clock.”
Simon twisted his wrist so he could see the face of his ultra-sleek hi-tech watch. “That’s in less than an hour.”
“I suppose you want to conclude the meeting as soon as possible so you can get back to your project.” She’d just have to have Jillian Fed-Ex the tape of the program.
Simon shook his head. “It’s important to keep promises to friends. I don’t mind taking a little break. I’ve never seen a soap opera, excuse me, daytime drama before.”
That didn’t surprise her, his intended desire to watch Jillian’s show with her did. “You don’t have to watch it with me,” she assured him.
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Thank you.” It seemed to be the thing to say. “Would you like me to start going over some of the figures for the merger?”
“I prefer not to discuss business while I’m eating. Tell me more about you. Your best friend is an actress?”
“Actor.” She smiled. “Actress is considered a sexist term and she’d tear a strip off you if she heard you using it.”
“It’s fortunate she isn’t here to have heard my faux pas then, isn’t it?” Silver flecks of humor twinkled in his gunmetal gray eyes.
“She’s a little militant,” Amanda admitted.
“What about your family?”
“What about them?”
“I presume they aren’t all actors.”
Actually they all had a fair amount of acting ability. “My parents own a real estate agency in Carlsbad. My brother is a lawyer.” And the most accomplished actor of them all.
“No sisters?”
“No. What about you?”
“No.”
“No sisters?”
“No brothers either.”
She knew his father had died in a plane crash with Eric’s father several years ago. “What about your mom?”
Simon’s face went blank. “She died of ovarian cancer when I was ten.”
She sensed the loss still affected him deeply and that touched her. If her mother died, would her father and brother even bother telling her about it? Yes, for appearance’s sake, probably. Not because anyone in her family felt that connected to her. She was the cuckoo, unwanted and unloved by her parents, dismissed by her brother.
“I’m sorry,” she said to Simon and meant it.
“Thank you.”
“Eric told me you got your Ph.D. when you were nineteen. That’s very impressive.”
He shrugged. “Intelligence is something you are born with. My mother and father encouraged me not to squander mine.”
“But to have accomplished so much by such a young age.”
Instead of answering, he reached toward her and she watched in mesmerized fascination as his darkly masculine hand came closer and closer to her chest. She couldn’t seem to open her mouth to protest, nor could she move.
He stopped, his fingers a centimeter from her body. “You’ve got a noodle here.” Then he pulled the offending piece of pasta off the lapel of her jacket without so much as brushing her chest with the backs of his fingers.
Chapter 3
It hadn’t been a fluke. Simon’s reaction to Amanda was as devastating today as it had been in his cousin’s office.
And Amanda was just as affected.
She’d thought he was going to touch her. He could see it in the dilation of the black centers in her eyes, in the way her breath had caught and held, pushing her beautiful curves into prominence. Yet she hadn’t protested, hadn’t moved.
She wanted him.
Perhaps as much as he wanted her.
But he couldn’t let it happen. Not yet, probably not ever.
In the current situation with his family’s company, she was the enemy. He wouldn’t risk the possibility she might try to use sex to manipulate him into agreeing to the merger. He was almost positive she wouldn’t stoop to such tactics. His instincts told him that though she tried to be all business, she wasn’t barracuda material.
In fact, she seemed like a really sweet, beautiful woman almost absurdly unaware of her feminine appeal. He wanted time to see if that was true. He wanted to observe her and get to know her. She intrigued him. He wanted to understand what made her tick, what put shadows in her eyes when she said she wasn’t married. He wanted to know why her voice had changed tenor when she mentioned her family.
For the first time in five years, Simon was interested in a woman’s friendship. His body craved hers with feral intensity, but he wasn’t going to risk her deciding he was too big or too intense, and putting up her guard against him.
His gaze flicked over her heart-shaped face. “So, do you usually watch your friend’s show?”
“Every day, faithfully.”
“You keep a television in your office?”
She looked appalled at the idea. “That would hardly be professional. I record it on my Ti-Vo and watch it when I go to bed to relax me.”
“You like to watch television in bed?” He went to bed to sleep, or to make love, period.
She fiddled with her fork, her gaze not quite meeting his. “Yes.” For some reason his question had made her blush.
Maybe it had been his mentioning the word bed. He knew simply thinking the word in her proximity brought all sorts of interesting, but impossible, scenarios to his own mind.
“What part does your friend play in the show?” he asked in order to get his focus off those scenarios.
“She started off playing the long lost teenage daughter of one of the love interests on the show. They kept her on. It’s a small role, but she gets to do what she has always wanted to do, act.”
“And are you doing something you love?”
“My career is very important to me.”
“But do you love it?”
“Of course. I’m well on my way to meeting all my goals.”
No doubt the intended merger with Brant Computers was a big part of that. It was unfortunate, but she would have to find some other way to pursue her ambitions. Brant Computers was going to stay a family held company as long as Simon had anything to say about it. Considering the fact he had no intention of ever selling his share of the company, that would be for his lifetime.
He searched his mind for a way to steer the direction away from her work. “A friend of mine from my university days is an actor in New York.”
They spent the remainder of lunch discussing her girlfriend’s soap opera and the difference between stage acting and television.
Following Simon into Jacob’s quarters, Amanda couldn’t believe she had gotten so sidetracked.
She’d spent forty-five minutes talking to Simon and after her initial sally, she had not once brought up her proposal. The only other person in her life that kept her so enthralled in conversation was Jillian. Because she was so outrageous. Simon was eccentric, not outrageous, but he was interested in everything and his mind was like a mainframe computer stored to capacity with data.
“You got an addiction to soap operas, have you?” Jacob asked as she took a seat on the sofa opposite a big screen television.
The old man’s sneering got her back up. “My best friend is one of the actors in a highly acclaimed daytime drama.”
“Ho, is she now? What’s her name then?”
“Jillian Sinclair.”
Jacob sat in the recliner, leaving the only seat for Simon on the couch with her. “Point her out when she comes on screen.” His tone implied he questioned her story.
She consciously refused to grit her teeth. “I will.”
Simon sat beside her rather than taking a position by the other arm of the sofa. “This should be interesting.”
She turned her head to look at him and couldn’t help smiling. His expression was dubious. For a man who didn’t even own a television, daytime drama probably had very doubtful appeal. She wasn’t sure why he’d decided to watch it with her. Perhaps that genius brain of his, so interested in everything, wanted to taste a new experience, even a questionable one.
The show’s theme music started and she forced her attention back to the television. Opening credits rolled. Jillian wasn’t in the first scene, so Amanda allowed herself another peek at Simon, but he wasn’t watching the television.
His gunmetal gaze was settled on her. “You don’t like the woman on the screen.”
He was right. Amanda didn’t particularly like the grand dame of the show, but how could he tell? “It’s not my favorite story line.”
“If you two are going to talk, sir, there’s no sense you staying in here to watch the show, is there?” Jacob’s irascible voice interrupted them.
Simon chuckled. “We’ll be quiet. It is, after all, your television.”
Silence between them did not diminish her awareness of Simon Brant. On the contrary, it heightened it. She had to be imagining that she could feel the heat of his body from six inches away, but the impression would not leave her. The side of her closest to him flushed with warmth.
It got worse when Jillian’s initial scene came on screen. “That’s Jillian, the redhead,” she said, pointing her friend out for Simon and Jacob.
She could have said the half-naked woman draped like a blanket over the blond hunk. Jillian had a love interest. No wonder she was excited. That increased her caché with the show big-time. It was, however, not a scene Amanda would have preferred to watch sitting next to the first man in years to spark sexual feelings in her.
She licked her lips as Jillian and the blond hunk kissed. It wasn’t a get-to-know-you kiss, but one of supposed overwhelming passion and both actors portrayed the emotion in an amazingly realistic way.
Amanda’s breathing hitched and she tried to mask her reaction with a cough, which earned her a glare from Jacob.
Simon caught her eye and winked.
She felt heat crawl up her face. He couldn’t possibly know she was thinking about his lips on hers while Jillian and her lover kissed. Could he?
At the next commercial break, Simon turned to her. “Your friend is quite talented. You’d never guess watching her with that guy that they aren’t really madly in lust with each other. Or are they?”
She shook her head and laughed a little. “No way. He’s married with four kids and the sweetest wife. He dotes on her and she adores him, not at all your average Hollywood marriage.” Or any marriage as far as she could tell.
Simon’s expression turned thoughtful. “Is Jillian married?”
Why was he asking?
She knew her friend was gorgeous. Did Simon want an introduction? “No, but she’s got a boyfriend.”
More like six of them. Where Amanda lived like a nun, Jillian was out to enjoy male companionship to its fullest.
Gray eyes narrowed, Simon studied her, making Amanda feel like he was looking into her soul. “I don’t know. I think I’d go ballistic if my girlfriend kissed a guy like that.”
He couldn’t be thinking of her when he said that, no matter what his expression indicated. She didn’t engender those sorts of thoughts in men, especially gorgeous, sexy men like Simon. “It’s not real.”
“How can a kiss not be real?”
Amanda wasn’t very clear on that herself. Jillian had tried to explain it to her, but for Amanda it always came down to lips against lips, bodies touching bodies. Intimacy.
She shrugged. “She says acting is putting yourself in that person’s perspective, so it’s not really you doing the kissing.”
“And when his penis gets hard and presses against her belly, is that just the character reacting or the man?” He sounded as if he was asking a wholly clinical question.
She didn’t feel in the least scientific, or qualified to answer the question in any case. Erect male flesh wasn’t something she had a lot of experience with. “He probably doesn’t get th-that way.”
She’d stuttered. Again. With the exception of the other day, when she’d first met Simon, she hadn’t stuttered since spelling militant in her sixth grade spelling bee. She’d dropped out because she’d said too many m’s.
“Come on.” Incredulity laced his voice. “He’s got a beautiful body pressed against his, their tongues are doing the mating dance and did you see where she had her hand?”
Something twinged in her heart when he called Jillian beautiful. She and Amanda were complete opposites physically. “Jill says that with the lights, the people all around, and the pressure to get it right for the first take, she doesn’t have any inclination to get excited.”
How had they gotten into this conversation?
