power to conceal her reaction whenever they accidentally touched. To hide how desperately she’d like to experience his hands on her. His mouth. His body covering hers with nothing between them but the damp sheen of want. She closed her eyes briefly, closed off those sort of painful, wayward thoughts—something that grew more difficult with each passing day—and fought to regain her equilibrium.
Lucius was a closed door to her. What she felt for him would never become a reality and the sooner she accepted that fact the sooner she could move on. Only one problem with that plan. She didn’t want to move on. She wanted … him.
To her eternal gratitude, Lucius didn’t appear to notice anything wrong. “Your self-possession and your natural way of behaving around me are two of the qualities I most appreciate about you.”
If he only knew. “Just two?” she managed to tease.
“Fishing for compliments, Colter?”
“You bet.” She pretended to cast a fishing line and reel it in, forcing out a careless grin.
“Fair enough.”
He approached, circling like a shark, unnerving her for the first time in the eighteen months they’d worked together. Until now he’d regarded her almost like a piece of office furniture. Useful. Functional. An integral, if replaceable, cog in the wheel that was Diablo. This time when he looked at her it was through a man’s eyes. Her amusement faded and it took every ounce of that self-possession he’d applauded only moments before to maintain her poise and keep a calm, cool expression on her face. Her grip tightened on the electronic tablet and stylus and she could only hope he didn’t notice the whitening of her knuckles or the tension pouring off her. Though, knowing Lucius, he not only noticed but would use it against her.
“Do you know why I picked you out of all the endless candidates to be my PA?” he surprised her by asking.
“Not a clue,” she admitted. “I’m good at my job, but so were the other applicants, I assume.”
“You’re wrong,” he said softly. “You’re not good. You’re great.”
He’d stunned her. When she’d first started working for him eighteen months ago, he’d chosen her from a pool of dozens of equally efficient and qualified PAs, women—and men—who were the best in the country. Granted, Angie had worked hard for the opportunity, particularly since she’d failed in just about every other area of her life. But Lucius Devlin could afford to hire the very best, and deep down she couldn’t quite convince herself that she was the best. And yet, here he stood, insisting she wasn’t just good, but great.
“Great,” she repeated faintly.
“Don’t get a swelled head, Colter. Though you were great when I interviewed you, there were others who were better.”
“Then why …?” Her eyes narrowed, the truth hitting like a tidal wave. After she’d been offered the position, she’d worked longer and harder than she thought physically possible, throwing herself into the job to justify having been chosen. No doubt that’s why he’d hired her. He knew she’d go the extra distance, knew on some level she’d been desperate enough to throw her heart and soul into the position. Maybe the other women hadn’t been quite as committed. The knowledge that he’d used her with such deliberation gave her heart a small, painful twist. She’d been used before by Ryan and vowed at that time to never allow it to happen again. The fact that it had been Lucius who used her hurt all the more. “Damn it, Devlin. That’s low, even for you.”
He picked up on her intensity, caught the ripple of pain in her soft words. “If I’d known you then as well as I know you now, I’d have chosen a different method. But I needed to work you—hard—to make sure we were a good fit.” An odd expression swept through his gaze, something she couldn’t quite identify, but that caused her pulse rate to kick up a notch. “And we are a good fit, aren’t we, Angie?”
Her mouth tugged to one side in a reluctant smile. “So far. But if you play me like that again, we won’t be any sort of fit.”
“Fair enough.” He shot her a quick grin. “Still, you have to admit it worked. Not only did it work, but you’ve more than proved yourself. You’ve exceeded even my high standards.”
“You’re welcome,” she murmured drily.
“That staggering paycheck you receive is my thanks. I’ll even throw in a bonus if you go out and buy something decent to wear to our dinner with Moretti. I want him so focused on you that his reputation for being all business, all the time, will take a serious beating. Thanks to you, I expect him to be less business and more man. Got it?”
“I wasn’t hired for that,” she retorted tightly.
“You were hired to do the jobs I assign you. That’s the current job.”
Now what? Did she admit that she wasn’t equipped to handle the current job? Or did she simply allow him to figure that out for himself? Because there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the level of excellence she exhibited at work perfectly balanced the level of mediocrity she exhibited in every other area of her life, particularly under the heading of male-female relationships. Hadn’t Ryan explained that to her in no uncertain terms when he “accidentally” tripped and fell naked on top of her best friend, Britt? And in their bed, no less. What had he told her …?
Oh, right. Though she had brains and business acumen in spades, but when it came to hearth and home—particularly the bedroom portion of the home—he found her decidedly lacking. Fair enough. She found Britt and Ryan’s concept of friendship equally lacking. That’s when she’d decided to stick to what she was best at … work. And she had, until she’d committed a huge error. That absolute no-no of no-nos. She’d fallen in love with the boss.
She spared Lucius a single, searing look. “I don’t know how, but I fully intend to make you pay for putting me through this humiliation.”
That stopped him. “You consider dinner out with your boss and a client humiliating?”
“No, I consider playing the part of a seductress for my boss and his client humiliating.”
Anger flared in Lucius’s dark gaze. “I don’t recall saying anything about seducing Moretti. Merely distracting him.”
“It’s not a role I’m comfortable with. And I resent being put in that position. You know damn well that’s not part of my job description.” She held up a hand before he could argue the point. “And don’t try and claim my job is whatever you tell me it is. That’s not going to fly with me. It’s whatever you tell me within the confines of the four corners of this office building. Period.”
Under any other circumstance, she would have found his look of pure masculine bewilderment and frustration amusing. Instead, it tempted her to follow Ella’s example and give him a good, hard smack upside his clueless head.
“You’ve attended business dinners before,” he protested.
“Not in the sort of role you’ve assigned for this one.”
He tossed back the last of his scotch and set the glass down with a sharp crack. “Fine. Show up looking like a piece of office furniture if that will make you feel better.”
Fury sparked, spilled over. “Office furniture?”
He stalked to the front of his desk, seized one of the twin chairs positioned there and swept it in a swift one-eighty. “Office furniture,” he repeated.
It took two full seconds to make the connection, to notice the simple white cream and black speckled fabric of the chair was an almost perfect match for the simple white cream and black speckled fabric of her suit. Hot color washed into her cheeks. Dear Lord. Earlier she’d thought he saw her as little more than a piece of office equipment rather than a human being. Apparently, that office equipment was furniture. Damn it! Maybe that was because she’d turned herself into office furniture.
When she’d first started work at