hell,” she muttered.
“Exactly.”
She considered the problem for a moment. “How about this …? If I promise not to show up wearing chair upholstery, could I just be myself?” Something flickered to life in his eyes at the question. Sympathy? Compassion? She could only hope it wasn’t pity. “To be honest, I’m not cut out to play the part of Mata Hari.”
He inclined his head. “Fair enough. You can leave a few hours early tomorrow in order to purchase an appropriate dress and accessories. Save your receipts and I’ll reimburse the expense.” He checked his watch. “Keesha is due with Mikey at four, so I’ll need to have my desk cleared by then. Hold any calls unless they’re urgent. Oh, and don’t forget to forward the messages from Pretorius St. John.”
“Already done.”
He nodded in clear dismissal and Angie didn’t waste any time retreating to the outer office. She crossed to an antique table that held a coffee and tea service and helped herself to a restorative cup of hot tea. She didn’t know what had upset her more … Friday’s dinner, the fact that she’d transformed herself into a chair or the discovery that Lucius was actively looking for a wife.
Idiot! Of course she knew which upset her more. She was totally, ridiculously in love with a man who compared her to office furniture. How would she handle it if—when—he found a woman willing to marry him? If she were forced, day after day to watch the two enjoying the sort of marital bliss she’d always longed to experience? She closed her eyes. She knew how she’d handle it, what she’d force herself to do if—when—that event occurred.
If Lucius married, Angie would quit her job.
“Pretorius? Lucius Devlin here. We have a problem.”
A pained sigh slipped across the phone lines. “Don’t tell me the program still isn’t working.”
“The program still isn’t working.”
“Maybe you’re not waiting long enough before popping the question. How much time did you give this latest one?”
“Two weeks.”
“Two …” Pretorius sputtered. “Are you nuts? No woman in her right mind is going to agree to marry you after a two-week acquaintance. Why is it that brilliant men, men who are beyond adept at conquering their small corner of the world, think every other aspect of their life should be equally as simple and straightforward. Like I told Justice, these are women we’re talking about. Not robots. And not real estate.”
“My corner of the world isn’t small.”
Dead silence met his claim. Then Pretorius exploded. “That’s all you have to say?”
“No, I have quite a bit to say, starting with certain guarantees you made regarding the Pretorius Program. Your program was supposed to choose women receptive to the idea of marriage.”
“My program did choose receptive women. You were supposed to show some patience, remember? You’re just like Justice. You can’t just date for a couple days, or even a couple of weeks and then pop the question.”
“Why not?” Lucius spared a glance toward the door to his office, which Angie guarded with such skill and dedication. He couldn’t imagine a better employee. She’d become a vital part of his organization and he didn’t want to consider the possibility of ever losing her. “Your program helped me choose the perfect PA within that time frame. And Ms. Colter has proven to be an excellent employee.”
“We aren’t talking about an employee.” Frustration bled through the line. “We’re talking about a wife. The parameters for a wife are far more complicated than for an employee. In addition to personality issues and general likes and dislikes there’s physical and emotional compatibility. I need to assess each woman carefully and make sure that marriage to you and caring for an infant mesh with her long-term goals and desires. Otherwise you’ll find yourself dealing with an unhappy marriage, followed by a messy divorce.”
“I told you I don’t want any emotional involvement. I want a woman who will function in the capacity of wife and mother the exact same way Angie functions in the capacity of my PA.”
“Come on, Lucius. You’re being unreasonable and you know it. Why would any woman want such a cold, sterile marriage?”
Because he was cold and sterile. Because at the ripe age of twenty his father had died, and he’d allowed his desire for vengeance to rule his life. Because he didn’t trust. Was constantly watching for the next betrayal. How could you build a relationship when you refused to allow anyone in? When opening yourself up to someone guaranteed a wealth of pain?
Other than his father, Lucius had fully opened himself to one other person in his life. A brother in spirit, if not by blood. Geoff. And when Lisa had come between them, she’d destroyed what they’d once shared, utterly and finally. Had shut a door he now realized had been a vital part of his life. Now he stood adrift, a lonely rock in the middle of a tempestuous sea, solid in only one regard.
He would never trust again.
“Listen to me, Pretorius …. Why my future bride would accept a cold, sterile marriage is your problem, not mine. To be frank, I don’t give a damn so long as she’s a loving mother to Mikey and can create an efficiently run, beautifully appointed home. Someone who is comfortable entertaining clients. Now, I’ve submitted my order. You assured me you could fill it. So, fill it.”
Pretorius blew out a sigh. “Okay, fine. Give me a week to tweak the parameters some more. Then I’ll send you a new list. But I have to tell you … We’re running out of eligible women in the Seattle area.”
Okay, a negotiation. He knew everything there was to know about negotiating. “Then expand the search to the Northwest section of the country. Hell, open it up to the entire United States if it means I’ll have a wife within the next three months. You do that, I’ll throw in a nice, juicy bonus.”
“I may have to pull my assistant in on the project,” Pretorius said cautiously. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Is he discreet?”
There was a long pause, then, “She can be bribed.”
“Fine. Then do it.”
“I’ll be in touch as soon as possible.”
“With a list of women that includes my future wife.”
Pretorius groaned. “Fine, fine. She’ll be on there.”
The instant Lucius disconnected the call, he crossed to the bank of windows overlooking a gray and rainy Seattle cityscape. It perfectly matched his mood. He planted his fists on his hips and lowered his head like a bull prepared to charge. Wanting to charge. Wanting to fight free of his current predicament.
How could Geoff do this to him? How dare he go and get himself killed, leaving Lucius with his and Lisa’s son. He didn’t want to be a guardian to the boy. How the hell was he supposed to raise him, turn him into the sort of man Geoff would have been proud to call his son, when it was so far beyond Lucius’s abilities? What had Geoff been thinking?
He picked up his glass of scotch and drank the last of it. He didn’t have the heart to be a father. Didn’t have the soul for the job. Couldn’t imagine years of playing the role of Dad to Mikey, despite having had the kindest, most loving father himself. The sort of father Mikey deserved. The sort of father Geoff would have been. It was so far beyond his scope and ability, he might as well have been asked to catch the moon in a butterfly net.
Damn it to hell! He swung around and heaved the glass across the room. The glass exploded, shattering against the wall, the dregs of scotch and ice raining down the wall like tears from heaven. So he would cheat. He’d hire someone—a wife—to take on his responsibilities. And he’d make her life so safe and secure and plush, she’d never leave him. Even though he couldn’t offer her everything a husband should, he could offer enough.