Catch a Mate

Amusement flashed in Anne’s hazel eyes. “I hear and I realize.”

“And you’re still going to hire him?”

Anne gave her an enigmatic smile. “Something like that.”

She gasped. Just shut your mouth. Act like a professional—unlike Marcus. “You’re telling me you want this…this miva working for you?” she found herself saying anyway. One child in the room obviously wasn’t enough.

“Miva?” Anne echoed, confused.

“Male diva,” Jillian replied.

“Nice,” Marcus said, sarcasm dripping from that one word. “I’m right here, you know. You might save this stimulating conversation for after I’ve left.”

“And you’re fine with that?” she continued, as if Egotistical Ass hadn’t spoken. Everything—well, almost everything—inside her wanted him gone. Now. He’d insulted her and rather than experiencing fury as she’d tried to convince herself, she wanted to tear off his clothes. There. She’d admitted it. This kind of thing had never happened to her before and it creeped her out. “His attitude doesn’t make you want to feed his organs to your cats?”

Anne held up her index finger. “One, I don’t have cats.” Another finger. “Two, his attitude doesn’t bother me because you’re the one who has to deal with him. He’s going with you tonight.”

“What!”

“You heard me. He’s going with you.” There was no room for argument in Anne’s tone and all traces of humor had vanished from her expression. Jillian barely had time to react before Anne added, “As Marcus said, he’s done this type of work before. But I want him to observe how we at CAM run our operation.

“Here are photos of your newest target.” She handed one to Jillian and one to Marcus. “I’ve got personal business for the rest of the day, so I’ll be back tomorrow. You’re a professional—I hope—so you should be able to handle a day without me.”

What? What! “Where are you going?” Jillian gasped out. Her fingers closed shakily around the photo.

“I told you, it’s personal. No more questions. Now, have a good day.” And with that, Anne gathered her purse, stood, and strode to the entrance. Her starched black pantsuit crackled as she walked.

“Anne,” Jillian called, shock pounding through her. Anne practically lived in the office. Why was she leaving early?

“The answer is no,” Anne said, reaching for the doorknob.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Doesn’t matter. The answer is still no.” With a tug, she opened the door. Georgia spilled inside and tumbled onto the crimson carpet. Never breaking stride, Anne stepped over her, saying, “Get back to work, Carrington.” Then she disappeared down the hall.

Georgia popped to her feet, cheeks blooming as bright a red as her hair. She tugged on her strapless dress before the twins popped out. “I, uh, was just about to knock. Would anyone like a cup of coffee?”

“No, thanks,” Jillian muttered. The caffeine might be the final push her heart needed to achieve full arrest. She never would have gotten out of bed this morning if she’d known this kind of day awaited her.

Marcus didn’t utter a word.

“All righty, then.” Georgia hurriedly shut the door, closing Jillian and Marcus inside. Alone. Together.

Heavy silence filled the room.

Say something. Do something. She shifted in her seat and her gaze flicked to CAM’s newest employee. He was watching her, something unreadable in his eyes, something hard and soft at the same time. Something dangerous to her peace of mind. She shifted again. Be nice so he’ll stop insulting you. Then you won’t get turned on anymore.

Which, by the way, her mind added, is ridiculous.

When had she become such a masochist?

“How did you convince Anne to give you this job?” she asked, her voice breathless as it pushed through the sudden block of ice in her throat.

A muscle ticked in his temple. “You may not realize this, so allow me to enlighten you. That question is insulting. In fact, you’ve done nothing but insult me since you first entered this office. Or maybe you do realize it and you just don’t give a shit.”

She held up a hand, palm out. “Honestly, no insult intended.” Good, you’re doing good. “It’s just, I know Anne, you don’t. This isn’t like her. You’re not the only man who’s wanted to work here. She’s always said no in the past.”

“I may not be the only man to want to work here, but I promise you I’m the best.”

Jillian had no doubts about that. No woman would be able to resist that potent allure of his. Still…“There’s got to be more to it than that.”

“What are you getting at?” he asked through clenched, white teeth. “That I’m Anne’s boy toy?”

Suddenly on the defensive, she stiffened her spine. “Well, are you?”

“FYI, Dimples. I’ve never been so hard up for a job that I had to sleep with the boss to get one.” Tone crisper with every word, he added, “Even though you’re obviously slow, I really hope you understand my next words so I won’t have to bring out Happy the sock puppet. Pay attention. There might be a quiz. Anne. Wants. To. Expand. The. Business. End of story.”

Her eyes narrowed. A wave of intense loathing—yes, loathing and not some other, brainless emotion—swept through her. Some people clicked at their first meeting, some people…didn’t. They obviously hadn’t. And every moment together made the dislike—yes, dislike and not some other, even more brainless emotion—intensify.

Be in control. Don’t let him see how much he’s affecting you. “My questions and concerns were legitimate,” she said (somewhat) evenly.

“No, they weren’t,” he ground out.

“Of course you don’t think so.” She smiled sweetly at him. “You’re unreasonable.”

“I bet you’re a real bundle of joy in—the job,” he said, then mumbled, “I really hope I don’t have to step in and douse the fire you’re sure to start tonight. I hear you’ve caused several brawls.”

“Blame the Brotherhood of the Raging Hard-on,” she said, still nauseatingly sweet, “not me.”

“Is that why you’re so grumpy right now, Dimples? Afraid I’ll cramp your style tonight and keep you from all those hard-ons?” There was more disgust in that one sentence than she’d ever heard from another person. “You probably get off on arousing your targets and walking away.”

That was low. So low. It was one part of the job she didn’t like, but she’d resigned herself to it because the end results were so important to the victims of infidelity. “That observation is funny, Mark. Coming from you. Did you not just take a job that requires you to arouse women and then walk away from them?”

“It’s Marcus,” he said tightly. “I only answer to Marcus.” Was that a flash of guilt in his eyes? No, surely not. Probably pride. Most likely he was giving himself a mental high-five.

She shrugged. “Whatever you say, Markie.”

A long while passed as he stared at her intently. Then, “What I said about the hard-ons was uncalled-for,” he admitted grudgingly.

Jillian shook her head, blinked. Had he, dare she believe it, apologized to her? Her dad had done it. Past boyfriends had even done it. But the words had never coasted over her skin with the fervency of a caress before. They’d never affected her to the marrow of her bones and made her want to forgive.

“Let’s just get to work,” she said after clearing her throat, not knowing what else to say. She forced her mind off Marcus and onto the photo Anne had given her. Good distraction. The man she was to charm tonight was in his early forties. He had a slightly receding hairline, nicely fringed brown eyes, a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Overall, not a bad-looking swine.

By tomorrow, life as he knew it would be in ruins.

Maybe she was emotionally barren or something, because that would have made most people feel a little sad, a little guilty. Perhaps even made them back away from the job. Jillian, well, she wanted his girlfriend to know exactly what kind of loser she’d been cooking and cleaning for, sleeping with and giving all of her time and energy to.

Like Georgia, Jillian would have loved to encounter a man with honor and integrity, who wouldn’t crumble under the allure of forbidden temptation. A man who placed more importance on love than sex.