by Carly Carson
She didn't know why, but she was certain he would make some sort of effort to ensure a woman's pleasure. Though she probably was crazy. A guy who paid for sex didn't need to worry about a woman's feelings.
He clicked off the phone. "Good morning." He smiled at her and her heart turned over. Whoa, that was not good.
"I have a couple things I need to discuss with you," he said. "Please have a seat."
Okay, the pleasantries were over quickly with him. She'd need to get used to that. She sat.
"That was Jeremy Savin," he said. "We're going to move forward on buying his software company."
She nodded. It was a deal he'd assigned to her at the beginning of last week. "It's a good opportunity," she said.
"Can you travel to Dallas on Monday and start organizing the due diligence?"
"Are you going, too?"
He raised his eyebrows, as if surprised. "No. Dallas Robotics is a small business. You can handle it."
Okay, so he wasn't that anxious for her company. She tried to hide her chagrin at her egotistical assumption. She wouldn't make that mistake again.
"Good." Her cheeriness sounded fake even to her. "Anything else?"
"Yes." He captured her gaze. "I have to attend the Spensor Museum's annual dinner for the Board of Trustees tomorrow night. I think you should come with me."
Her mouth opened, but no words emerged. Did he spring these surprises on purpose just to keep her off balance?
She found her tongue. "What kind of request is that?"
His brows moved higher. "It wasn't a clear statement?"
"No." She had to be firm on this issue if he was going to make a habit of asking for her company at social events. "You don't date," she said. "So it's not a date. I won't serve as an escort. So it can't be that kind of assignation. So—" She shrugged. "I'm baffled."
"You may consider it one of your job duties."
She stiffened and he immediately raised one hand. "With no sexual obligation attached."
"Why don't you take your mistress?"
"I'm not filling that position right now," he said coolly. "That's why I've added the social duties to your job description."
"You can't just take over my evenings like that. What if I have a date?"
"Do you?"
His keen eyes bored into hers, and she was unable to lie.
"No," she admitted. But she damn well would have one next time he asked. In fact, she had to remember that the acquiring of a boyfriend was her number one priority. Logan would have to back off then.
"Fine." He looked like he was fighting a smile. "We'll consider that settled."
"I'll do it once." She gave him a level gaze. "But I don't want this socializing to be a permanent part of my duties."
"Don't be foolish. You'll make excellent contacts. I don't attend these events for pleasure myself. You could take a lesson from me."
Damn. He was right.
But she didn't trust him.
However, she could plainly see that arguing with him was not going to work. She'd have to handle each "request" as it appeared.
She began to rise.
"Sit down." He waved an impatient hand. "I have a favor to ask."
"Another one?" She perched on the edge of the chair.
He narrowed his eyes. "Don't push me. It's about Rosie."
Rosie? She hadn't expected that.
Logan rubbed the frown mark between his eyes. "I'm stuck with her until my regular assistant recovers from her surgery."
"Stuck with her?" Where was he going with this?
"It's complicated," he said impatiently. "We don't need to go into the details. But the fact is that she's not cut out for the business world."
No, that was obvious.
"Do you know what she really wants to do?" Logan continued.
"Her dream is to design her own fashion line." That wasn't a secret.
"Exactly."
"You want me to help her write a business plan?"
He laughed. "No, that would be an impossible task. What I need is much easier. She needs to develop some more mainstream fashions."
"Why? Many designers have an avant-garde approach like Rosie does. Fashionistas don't want the same old same old."
"Agreed. But she's too far out on the edge. She'll never get financial backing until she tones it down."
"Okay." Amanda shrugged. "How does that affect me?"
"I thought you could let her make you some clothes."
"What?" She jumped out of her chair. "There is nothing wrong with my clothes."
He frowned. "It's not about you, Amanda. This is about Rosie."
She glared at him. A master manipulator. She had to give him credit.
Dropping both hands on his desk, she leaned over it. "Don't treat me like a fool."
He met her gaze. "Are you always this paranoid?"
Damn. Insecurity crept over her. She could feel its insidious poison. She'd never had fancy clothes. The few items she'd purchased since getting this job had been picked specifically because they made her look dowdy.
If she were going to go out with him in the evening to expand her business contacts, she would need new clothes. No question about that. Was she looking a gift horse in the mouth?
"If I agree," she said, "you have to allow Rosie free rein and pay for all her supplies." At a bare minimum, Rosie would benefit from the scheme.
"Done." Rising, he gestured to the door. "Why don't you go on and tell Rosie the terms? I'll cover her bills. The only stipulation is that she has to have something ready for you for the Spensor event tomorrow night."
Amanda huffed out. His easy acquiescence told her she hadn't bargained hard enough.
But her annoyance was swept away in Rosie's exuberance. Rosie ran around her desk and threw herself at Amanda, squealing with delight.
"Thank you. Thank you." She stepped back, beaming. "I didn't know if you'd agree."
"Agree?" Amanda stopped at the corner of the desk. "Did you already know about this idea?"
Rosie nodded. "Logan asked me last week."
"Bastard," Amanda muttered. "He set me up."
Rosie drew a sketch pad out of her desk drawer. "What do you mean?"
"If I hadn't agreed when he asked me, he would have told me how disappointed you'd be."
Rosie's eyes widened. "I would have been disappointed."
"Never mind." Amanda sighed.
"Logan told me you needed a cocktail dress for tomorrow night. I've been thinking it over and I have some ideas."
"Don't go crazy. I have to look professional at all times. The only reason I'm going with him to these evening events is so I can make more contacts."
"Yeah, whatever." Rosie waved a hand tipped with five fingernails each painted a different color, none of them pretty. "But we gotta jazz it up a bit. We need to get rid of your office nickname one way or another."
"I won't be wearing the clothes you make here at the office."
Rosie tilted her head. "Logan said a complete wardrobe. He wants to see as much as possible of what I can do before he starts thinking who might back me."
Amanda groaned. "I don't want an entire custom-made wardrobe."
"Of course not. He made me promise I'd take you shopping. In fact, that's what we'll have to do for tomorrow night. There's no time for me to sew something for you."
"Fiend." But Amanda couldn't be too angry in the face of Rosie's excitement.
"No question." Rosie shot her an unrepentant grin. "But there's no reason why we can't take advantage of his generosity. Meet me here at five this afternoon, and we'll start shopping."
Amanda made her way to the conference room, her thoughts whirling. She really didn't have time for wardrobe building. But she'd be foolish to pass up this opportunity. If she had to attend certain events with Logan, she didn't delude herself about the clothing demands. She would not be comfortable wearing the clothes she already owned. Plus, she couldn't deprive Rosie of this opportunity to showcase her
work.
And if those reasons weren't good enough, she only had to think about the moniker 'hump a frump'. One way or another, that had to go.
She squashed the little imp in her brain who tried to tell her that Rosie's funky look would never translate well into sophisticated evening clothes. Or the other imp that whispered that Logan would never invest in a fashion line. Dallas Robotics was more his kind of company.
The conference room was empty, except for Josh. Excellent. A second weapon. Because if she didn't figure out a way to get Logan to back off, her body was going to betray her.
She approached with a smile. "Just the man I wanted to see."
"Sounds good already." Josh grinned and waved to the seat next to him. "What's up?"
"I have tickets to a benefit for the American Lung Association a week from Friday night. Would you care to join me?"
Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise? Wariness?
"I'd love to go with you, Amanda, but–" He paused for a second before meeting her gaze. "The rumor mill says you're, uh, dating Winter."
She started to shake her head, but he continued. "I like you, Amanda, but I don't want to commit career suicide over you."
"I understand. But I want you to know there is no personal relationship between Logan Winter and me." She forced a smile. "Whatever you may have heard, I am definitely not the type of woman he would be interested in."
Was that clear enough? She could hardly state that she was not a prostitute.
Josh took a sip of water. "How about this? Let's go to your event as friends and see what develops. Fair enough?"
Amanda nodded vigorously in relief. That would be perfect. She wouldn't have to be worried about any lover-like moves from him, and he wouldn't have to feel that his job might be in jeopardy.
She was able to focus on the staff meeting with her full attention. Then she had a meeting with the general counsel about some legal issues with one of the deals she was working on. So when she made it back to her office, she almost groaned out load at the sight of Phoebe Cattus standing at the window of her office.
"Excuse me," Amanda said, with more hostility than she'd intended. "Did we have an appointment?"
Phoebe shrugged. As always, she was dressed on the edge of sluttish. Her skirt was a little too high, her neckline a little too low. Her bangs looked as sharp as the spikes of an iron fence.
"Getting a little pretentious, are we?" Phoebe leaned back against the credenza.
"If it's pretentious to expect common courtesy," Amanda shot back, "then yes, I am. I repeat, do we have an appointment?"
"Chill." Phoebe rolled her eyes. "I guess your little plot isn't working out so well, huh?"
"My little plot?" Amanda laughed, hoping it didn't sound forced. "You'll have to fill me in on that."
Phoebe tossed her head. "Everyone knows. You've been more than obvious."
Amanda thumped her iPad down on her desk. "If you don't have any Winter Enterprises business to discuss, please excuse me. I have work to do." She sat down in her chair, noticing that the email to Daily Eats that she'd been working on before the staff meeting was open on her computer. That seemed a long time ago.
The general counsel had advised her to wait before commenting on the delays at Daily Eats. They didn't want to appear to be harassing Mrs. Molloy, given her serious illness.
Phoebe sauntered over to the desk, eying Amanda's desktop. "Logan Winter has only one use for women, you know."
"You could be right." Amanda clicked off her email to forestall Phoebe's nosiness. "He's given me an excellent job here as Director of Entrepreneurial Services. I appreciate it."
"That cover story is not working." Phoebe bared her teeth in what she might have thought was a smile. "Everyone knows why he really hired you."
"Is it personal experience that makes you so bitter, or lack of it?" Amanda could have bitten off her tongue. She knew better than to engage in a catfight.
Phoebe leaned down to hiss in Amanda's face. "You think you're so clever. But you'll come to the same end as all his other whores. See if you don't!"
On that triumphant note, she whirled around and sailed out of the room.
Amanda resisted the urge to throw something after the bitch. She knew Phoebe wanted to make trouble. What she didn't know was why.
Chapter 13
Logan tried to relax in the back of the limousine as he rode downtown to Amanda's apartment on the night of the museum benefit. The excitement buzzing through him was surprising, as he had no intention of sleeping with her tonight. He did have every expectation of frustration as he denied himself the opportunity to try to get her in his bed. He still needed to maintain his hands-off policy tonight.
Sighing, he punched the elevator button in the lobby of her building. He was determined to reel her in slowly. He saw the wariness in her eyes every time she looked at him, but also the interest. She wanted to accept the lure, but she was nervous enough to snap the line and take off if he pushed too hard.
He had no doubt that she possessed a great deal of strength and determination. It would take twice as long to win her back if she bolted once.
When Amanda opened the door, pleasure zapped him again. Her simple dress, unlike the frumpy suits she wore at work, hugged her curves in a delightful way. Mentally, he saluted Rosie.
"You didn't need to come up," she said, pulling her coat around her.
Logan's hands moved automatically to smooth the coat over her shoulders. When she lifted her hair out of the collar, her scent teased him. He had to grab hold of his control to prevent himself from leaning over and pressing his lips to the back of her neck.
She turned her key in the lock, and he touched the back of her waist to guide her to the elevator. Even through the thick wool of her coat, the touch inflamed him.
Outside the lobby, Felipe waited by the car to open the door. Logan followed her in, sliding too close to her. What had happened to his resolve to maintain a cool distance? He forced his hands to relax, and to remain in his lap.
She crossed her long legs, slanting them to one side. Did she know that drove him crazy? He glanced at her face, but she was staring out the window at the traffic rushing by. As far as he could tell, she barely knew he was sitting beside her.
The evening only deteriorated from there.
The museum buzzed with a large crowd, and Logan saw many acquaintances. These people were colleagues, more than friends. So it wasn't surprising that, as soon as he checked their coats, he saw the other men checking out Amanda. He wasn't the only one impressed with her appearance, and that presented him with an unexpected problem.
Although no one, least of all, him, discussed the nature of the companions he brought to business events, the men in his business circle were savvy guys. They all knew, at a glance, the type of woman each of them had on his arm.
His paid escorts were women who appeared out of nowhere, and disappeared without a trace when he was done with them.
They weren't somebody's college classmate, or sister, or ex-wife.
So now, these men thought Amanda was another in a long line of his hired escorts. He saw their eyes slide over her too boldly, as if she, being paid for her presence, didn't have the right to full respect. They wouldn't look at another man's wife that way. Oh, they'd check her out. But subtly. Not in the blatant manner in which they were ogling Amanda.
Logan found himself, when introducing her, emphasizing her position at his company, as if he could pound home the fact that she was a professional businesswoman. He didn't want anyone to make the wrong assumption about her.
Partly because she didn't deserve it. Partly because he knew that after he'd bedded her, and it was time to move on, she would need these contacts that she could make through him. The contacts would be worthless if his business associates thought she was his paid escort.
Although he wouldn't fire her when their association ended, he thought Amanda would not want to stick around his company when their affair had
played itself out. She had too much pride.
Therefore, she would need to find another job. He was determined to help her when that time arrived.
With that in mind, he introduced her to Steve Watkins, a venture capitalist with a young firm. The kind of guy who could use someone like Amanda when she needed a job.
Watkins shook her hand, holding on a little too long. He dropped one heavy eyelid in Logan's direction. "Not quite your usual style, is she?" he said with a hearty guffaw.
Amanda stepped back like she'd been scalded.
"You're mistaken, Watkins," Logan said firmly. "Ms. Thompson is a valued employee, with a degree from the Wharton School, and several years of excellent experience."
"Sure, sure." Watkins dropped another wink. "I can be discreet. Hey, if you're done with that hot little chick you had last time I saw you, I think I'll look her up. Trixie, right?"
Logan bit back a harsh retort. Could the man be any clumsier? But a confrontation would only make the situation worse.
"Like I said, you're mistaken. And I happen to know that Trixie is only interested in intelligent men." Touching Amanda's arm, Logan turned her away. "Please excuse us."
He dropped his hand from her arm abruptly. He had to stop touching her in public. Such personal behavior would only encourage people to think she was his mistress.
Biting back a curse, he moved several inches away from her. All the effort he'd put into subtly getting her used to his touch was going to be wasted.
She looked at the space that had opened between them, and then raised her eyes to his. "A change in tactics?"
"I don't want them to think you're…what you're not."
"They all think I'm a hooker." She pressed her lips together.
"Not you."
"Then who?"
"My companion. Any attractive woman who is with me." The words ate into him, biting him with the ugliness of what he'd done. He'd conditioned people to believe that any woman who was with him was a whore.
"You never dated—regular women?"
"I told you. I don't date, and I don't do relationships." Despite everything, he needed to be clear on that. No matter how badly he desired her, he wouldn't lie to get what he wanted. When she came to his bed, she would do so in the full knowledge that it was only sex between them.
