by Sara Fawkes
“No,” I replied, shaking my head emphatically. “I’m his new personal assistant, which I only just found out means I have to accompany him to these functions. This is all so new though.” I didn’t lie, but I still felt bad leaving everything else out, especially when I saw Cherise’s disappointment at the news.
“Weren’t you going to be a lawyer?” she asked, looking puzzled.
The question was a sore spot, but not something she would have known about. When my parents died, we were both college juniors and rarely saw one another. I’d cut ties with most of my college acquaintances while I tried to get my life together. “It didn’t work out,” I said, then in an effort to change the subject I looked around behind her. “Where’s David?”
“Out in the crowd, mingling with the rich folks and trying to get more donations. Our presentation didn’t net as much as we needed, so he’s trying to get a few more sponsors.” She rolled her eyes. “He’s so much better at that than I am. It’s weird walking up to a stranger and just asking for money.”
“Funny,” a heavily accented voice said nearby, “as this is what I see in front of me.”
I looked over to see a tall, slim, blonde woman standing beside me, eyeing Cherise with smug superiority. I had no idea how long she’d been standing there, but when Cherise’s face fell my hands curled into fists. “Excuse me,” I said bluntly, indignant at her treatment of my friend, “who are you?”
She turned her cool gaze to me, blue eyes giving me a quick once over. “I am Anya Petrovski. I understand you are Mr. Hamilton’s new personal assistant.” She studied her nails. “It is a position with which I am well acquainted.”
The woman didn’t offer her hand, and I wouldn’t have taken it anyway. I didn’t like the emphasis she put on the word “position”, nor did I appreciate her knowing smirk. Annoyed at having my “business relationship” with my boss mocked by this woman, I used my anger as a shield. “If you’ll excuse me, Ms. Petrovski, I was already talking with...”
“You will find that, when you work for wealthy men, people will selfishly approach you only for your contact.” Anya gave Cherise a condescending glance. “You must guard yourself against even such clumsy attempts.”
Beside me, Cherise stiffened at the veiled insult. “This is a charity function, if you haven’t noticed,” I countered, coming to Cherise’s defense. “If she wants me to help her raise money, it’s my choice to do so.”
Anya lifted a shoulder. “The venue only legitimizes the petty begging attempts.”
My whole body tensed in outrage, and I was set to go off on the haughty, blonde woman when Cherise backed away from us. “If you two will excuse me,” she said stiffly, “I need to get back to my husband.”
As she turned to leave I reached for her arm. “Cherise...”
“It’s okay Lucy, I’m happy to see you but...” The smaller girl gave the haughty Russian beauty an uncharacteristic glare. “When your business is done with this, this woman, come find us,” she said before walking off, head held high.
“Why did you do that?” I said, rounding on the beautiful blonde woman. “She was a friend.”
Anya shrugged, but her cool eyes seem amused by my anger. “She means nothing to me. I have only been sent to collect you.”
My hands clenched again. Surrounded by strangers, and in a foreign environment, I didn’t want to draw any undue attention to myself. But I found it hard. The fact that my struggle obviously amused the Russian woman made my decision to keep calm, at least on the outside, even more difficult. “By whom?”
Her smirk widened. “My employer.”
I bit my cheek to keep from saying the first words that came to mind. “Please tell your employer I’m indisposed for the rest of the evening.”
“I really must insist.” Anya linked her arm through mine and steered me around. “Mr. Hamilton does not appreciate tardiness.”
“What?” Her words surprised me, shock making me take a few steps before digging in my heels. “Jeremiah sent you?”
She indicated with a jerk of her chin, and I swiveled my head to see Jeremiah’s profile between the guests. He sent this harpy to collect me? My lips pursed in annoyance as I grudgingly allowed myself to be led through the crowd, loathe to make a scene but really wanting free of the sanctimonious blonde woman’s grasp.
Several military figures surrounded our target, the uniforms a similar dark green but decorated differently to denote varying ranks. As we drew nearer I realized I’d made a grave error, but unfortunately there was no way to get free now. A familiar yet foreign dark head turned in our direction and a set of cool blue-green eyes lit up as they saw our approach. Slicked-back, long hair framed a beautiful yet familiar face, bisected by a small white scar across his nose and one cheek. Dressed in all black and holding a wine glass loosely through his fingers, the familiar face lacked the cool control to which I’d grown accustomed.
What have I gotten myself into?
“Gentlemen, if you’ll please excuse me. We can discuss our business further tomorrow.”
Even his voice sounded similar, but he had a slick quality and cynical air about him, much different than Jeremiah’s rigid control. The stranger’s carefree expression as he gave me a quick once over disconcerted me, as I’d grown used to the stoicism I associated with the familiar face.
“And who do we have here?” he asked, lifting my hand to his lips. The way he kissed my fingers was different than Gaspard earlier. Whereas the older Frenchman had been gallant, this was more personal than I’d prefer. His eyes held mine, and his lips lingered perhaps a bit too long, and despite my best intentions I felt a flutter in my belly. Annoyed with myself and my response, I snatched my hand away, and amusement flashed across his eyes.
“This is Lucy Delacourt, the new assistant to Jeremiah.” Anya’s accented voice held the same snide tone as before, but her demeanor seemed more deferential. She sidled next to the man, and wormed her arm through his – almost possessively. “Meet Lucas Hamilton, the true heir to the Hamilton business.” I couldn’t miss the air of entitlement in her statement, and Lucas didn’t deny the claim.
So this was the Lucas that Gaspard warned about earlier? I frowned between the two gorgeous people. The predatory nature of their gaze had part of me wanting to flee, but I stayed, crossing my arms instead. A kernel of anger smoldered in my belly at being thrown into this unaware, without backup.
Lucas ignored the gorgeous woman hanging on his arm, cocking his head to the side and studying me. “You seem tense, love,” he said, addressing me in a smooth voice. “I don’t want a beautiful woman such as yourself disappointed by my company.”
Beside him, Anya tensed, and the angry look she gave me spoke volumes as to her jealousy. While it felt good to watch her come down a peg, I had no desire to continue this conversation. Something told me I was way out of my league here. However this went, I doubted I’d come out ahead. “I thought you were someone else,” I said stiffly, not bothering to mention that I was dragged to see him. “If you’ll excuse me...”
As I stepped back to leave, the band behind me struck up a new tune, a livelier number that had several couples walking to the dance floor. Lucas stepped forward, shaking off Anya’s grip on his arm. “Would you care to dance?” he asked, holding out a hand toward me.
Anya stepped forward, obviously having something to say about the offer. A sharp look in her direction by the man before me, however, and Anya stopped, simmering in place as she glared at me. Why am I suddenly the bad guy? I wondered, irritated by the entire game. “No, I’m sorry,” I said stiffly, trying to maintain my poise, “but I really need to find my...”
“Really, I must insist.” Before I knew it he had a hand around my waist, and was leading me out onto the floor. I balked immediately, digging in my heels. Why is everyone insisting I do what they want tonight? I thought, annoyance bubbling to the surface.
“We’re quite visible here,” he murmured, leaning in close. “You don’t want
to cause a scene now, do you?”
I hesitated, mindful suddenly of the strangers around us, and that hesitation gave him all the time he needed. He swept me out onto the floor and into his arms before I could think to say no again, gliding us across the dance floor as smooth as silk. I tried to pull away, but his vice-like grip allowed me no escape. “Let me go,” I said, my rising anger bleeding into my voice.
“And ruin a perfectly fine opportunity to dance with a beautiful woman? I think not.” He seemed amused at my resistance; I danced stiffly in his arms, but my gracelessness didn’t faze him a bit. He pulled me close to his hard body, arms like iron; my feet barely touched the ground, my weight supported almost entirely by his arms.
“We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot. Tell me why: do I smell bad?”
The absurd comment caught me off guard, and I struggled not to be amused. Involuntarily, I breathed in his scent: spicy and sweet like cinnamon, and I couldn’t tell if it was cologne or his natural fragrance. Annoyed at my reaction, I retorted, “I don’t appreciate watching my friends get belittled, then being dragged to meet someone under false pretenses.”
Lucas tipped his head to the side, acknowledging my blunt comments. “Anya can be tempestuous; indeed, it was once part of her charm. Perhaps we can begin again: I am Lucas Hamilton and you are...”
I frown at his collar, refusing to meet his eyes in defiance. “You know who I am already.”
A finger under my chin lifted my gaze. “But I’d like to hear it from your lips,” he said softly, sweeping me in a big arc across the dance floor.
Butterflies exploded in my stomach, and my jaw clenched. Damn my body and its silly reactions. His hands were burning coals against my skin, eyes like magnets. Just like his brother.
Reminding myself of Jeremiah allowed me some measure of control over myself - I didn’t need another man making me go weak in the knees and lose all willpower. One is quite more than enough. “What do you want?” I repeated firmly.
Instead of disappointment at his seductions being ignored, his gaze sparked with renewed interest and no small bit of amusement. “Besides a dance with a beautiful woman?” He shrugged a shoulder. “To make my stick-in-the-mud little brother jealous.”
I pursed my lips, gut tightening. At least he’s finally being honest. I think. “I’m not interested in playing games, Mr. Hamilton.” I struggled slightly in his grip, jostling a nearby couple. “I’d rather not “make a scene”, but if you won’t let me...”
“What if I answered any questions you might have about my brother?” At my startled look, Lucas gave a wry smile that almost seemed genuine. “My brother is one who keeps his secrets close.” He swayed me closer, mouth dipping close to my ear. “Aren’t there some things about your boss you were dying to know?”
I ground my heel into the toe of his wingtip shoes. Lucas winced and pulled away but didn’t let go, continuing to twirl me across the wood floor. That infuriating smile tipped up in the corners as I scowled at him. He knew he had me.
I was curious.
There was so much I didn’t know about my new employer, and it kept me feeling off-balance when I was around him. The way Jeremiah watched me, his gaze piercing through my mind, I constantly felt like he could read my very thoughts. The idea of knowing something, anything, about him that could tip those dizzying scales in my favor, was as tantalizing as water to a man dying of thirst. Still, I didn’t appreciate the smirk on Lucas’ face. “Anya used to work for Mr. Hamilton? Um,” I stuttered, “the other one. My boss.”
His lazy smile grew. “She was his last personal assistant,” he drawled, eyes watching me like a hawk.
I struggled in vain to keep my reaction from showing. That harpy? What did he see in her?
I didn’t realize I’d said the words aloud until Lucas threw back his head and laughed. The sound startled me, and I flushed. We drew a few glances from the couples around us, but the dancing continued. “She wasn’t always this way,” he said, humor lacing his voice. “Actually, she used to be a very sweet girl, much like yourself.”
“What happened, then?” I asked, determined not to fall prey to any more of his lines.
He lifted a shoulder. “I seduced her away from him, then turned her into my spy. When he discovered this and threw her out, she came to work for me.”
The arrogance in his voice was a bitter gall, and I tried again to free myself. Surprisingly, he let me go, twirling me under his arm before settling us back into our previous position. He remained impervious to my glare, but I still held his attention. “Next question?”
I was dancing with a snake, but I couldn’t see any way out at the moment. A quick scan of the room showed no relief column coming to my aid, so I forged ahead. “What did Anya mean about the “rightful heir” business? You and Jeremiah are brothers right?”
“Ah, straight to the heart of things.” He twirled me again, blue-green eyes deep in thought. “What do you know so far?”
“The Wikipedia version. He was in the military, got out and took over the company, had a rough go in the beginning.”
Lucas dipped his head. “A decent summary, if lacking in the pertinent details. Tell me, how was your relationship with your father growing up?”
My mouth tightened, and I searched his face for any ulterior motives, but the question seemed genuine if more personal than I preferred. “Good,” I said cautiously, “why?”
“Ours wasn’t.” Lucas’s previously jovial expression shadowed. “Rufus Hamilton was impossible to please, especially if you were in any way related to him. Of course, we didn’t realize this until we were much older and his demands had already warped our sensibilities. I’ll give you the short version: I went the route expected of me, to take over the family business, while Remi rebelled the only way he knew how and joined the military without my father’s consent. It was the one time he managed to thwart our father’s plans, and that success ate away at the old man.”
He paused, and the silence in the conversation stretched. “Obviously something happened,” I said, prompting for more information.
Lucas snorted, his gaze far away and cynical again. “Yeah. The old man died.” He looked down at me, and his lips tightened; another twirl, which I began to realize was how he gave himself time to think. “Rufus really couldn’t have timed it better if he’d tried; heart attack took him out in the middle of a board meeting, and only days before Jeremiah was set to re-enlist. I was surprised when he turned up at the reading of the Will, but more shocked when our beloved father left the bulk of his estate to his youngest son Jeremiah.”
The controlled fury in Lucas’s eyes as he spoke warred with the sneer that twisted his lips. He was looking off in the distance again, lost in memories he obviously didn’t like. “Jeremiah got everything, including majority shares in the company, with the stipulation that if he refused to take over, the entire company would be liquidated and scattered. That would have meant the loss of thousands of jobs, and the collapse of a carefully built infrastructure spanning decades, all to get back at the son who had managed to outmaneuver him.”
The callousness of the whole affair boggled my mind. “So willing Jeremiah the entire company was meant a punishment?” I asked.
I felt a brief shiver, as my voice jolted Lucas out of his memories. The dark expression disappeared, replaced by the smug amusement I began to understand was a mask. “Our dear Remi was always looking out for the common man,” Lucas remarked, twirling us spiritedly around the dance floor. “It’s why he joined the Army, you know; he wanted to help others. So, when the executor read the will, lawyers and board members surrounded Remi, impressing on him the gravity of the situation, how many lives he would ruined if he turned it down, etc. etc. Given my little brother’s predilection for being the hero, it was a no-brainer what he would choose.”
“What about you?” I asked, genuinely curious. If Lucas told the truth at all, then his father had cheated him out of his inheritance through no fault o
f his own. While it didn’t erase all my dislike for the man, it did put it into perspective.
“I survived.” His gaze travelled over my shoulder, and a wicked smile curved his lips as the song came to an end. “Doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy my bits of fun when they come along.”
I squeaked as he shifted me around, one arm looping behind my back, then bent me over until I was horizontal to the ground. Grabbing his shoulders, I stared wide-eyed up at his beautiful face only inches from my own. “Let’s give them a show, shall we?” he murmured, then brought his lips down onto mine.
I stiffened, fingers digging into his dark suit. His mouth took full advantage of my shock, tongue and teeth playing with my bottom lip. The kiss was brief and, while it still brought butterflies to my stomach, I managed to keep my wits about me. As he pulled me upright, my arm was already in motion. My hand cracked along his cheek, momentum giving the slap strength. The blow stunned us both - I couldn’t believe I’d done it and apparently neither could he. I saw open surprise in his gaze, and perhaps a smattering of respect entered his eyes as he released me.
