What she did ask was if I had a valid passport, and I told her yes.”
“I'm sorry she wasn't more explicit. But to answer your question, yes, you'll have to travel with me on occasion.”
“How often is ‘on occasion'?”
Diego stiffened as if Vivienne had struck him. He glared at her. “Why do you always challenge me, Vivienne?”
“I'm not challenging you, Diego. I merely asked a question.”
“Well, I don't like being questioned, nor do I want to have to edit everything I say to you because if I don't, then you're going to mouth off at me.”
Vivienne's temper flared. “Are you such a tyrant that you're going to deny me my First Amendment right to free speech?”
His eyebrows shot up. “Is that how you see me, Vivienne? You think I'm a tyrant?”
Vivienne stared at the man towering above her like an avenging angel. At that moment Diego Cole-Thomas had become her late husband. Her frustration with and resentment of a dead man had been transferred to a man who ordered her about as if she were chattel.
“Yes I do, Diego. You issue orders, and then expect me to fall in line, in lockstep like an automaton. Despite what you've been led to believe, you are not perfect, Mr. Cole-Thomas.”
Diego found Vivienne's tirade amusing and somehow quite sexy. Watching her chest rise and fall under the T-shirt was definitely a turn-on. All traces of gold had disappeared from her eyes, leaving them the color of strong black coffee.
“I know I'm not perfect,” he drawled, “because after all I am color-blind.”
Vivienne curbed the urge to swat him with the dish towel. “I wasn't talking about that, Diego, and you know it.”
“Don't try and put words in my mouth, Vivienne,” he said, repeating what she'd told him the night before. “Arguing with you is not only bothersome but also tiring. Keep it up and I'll take it out on some hapless employee who needs his or her job.”
Her jaw dropped, and she gave him an incredulous look. “You'd fire someone just because you're in a bad mood?”
It was Diego's turn to stare at Vivienne as if she'd lost her mind. How was she so sophisticated, yet so gullible? Had her marriage failed because she'd believed everything Sean Gregory told her until she'd had enough of his excuses? Or had she chosen to believe there was nothing wrong with their marriage because politicians were expected to spend time away from their families with the excuse that they were affecting change on behalf of their constituents?
Reaching over, he tugged on the end of her ponytail. “No, Vivienne.” His voice had lowered to a sensual timbre. “I'd never take my frustrations out on someone else.”
A momentary look of distress crossed her face. “What are you frustrated about?”
“Let it go, Vivienne.”
“Didn't you hire me to uncomplicate your life? If you let me know what's bothering you, then perhaps I can help.”
Crossing his arms over the front of his crisp white shirt, Diego angled his head. “Unless you're willing to go upstairs and take off your clothes and permit me to make love to you, then I don't think you can be much help to me.”
Vivienne wasn't able to stifle her gasp of surprise. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. It was the first time in a very, very long time that she'd found herself at a loss for words. Her shock faded, replaced by anger. Diego had lied to her. What happened to his I-don't-get-involved-with-my-female-employees pronouncement?
“Lighten up, Vivienne,” he continued, smiling. “You don't have to worry about me trying to seduce you.”
Picking up the towel, she flicked it, deliberately missing him by inches. “I'm going to pay you back for teasing me, and that's a promise.”
His smile grew wider. “There you go issuing challenges again.”
Her smile matched his. “It wasn't a challenge, Diego. It was a promise.”
Diego stared at Vivienne under lowered lids, silently admiring the fullness of her bottom lip, a lip he suddenly wanted to taste to see if it was actually as soft as it looked. And it was the second time in a matter of hours that he'd found himself lusting after a woman who would sleep under his roof for the next six months.
He knew he had to put some distance between himself and his personal assistant or he would violate everything he'd been taught and had come to believe as the head of his family-owned business. With the exception of the family secret that involved his great-grandfather and his young secretary, the succeeding ColeDiz CEOs had lived scandal-free lives.
Everyone remarked about his startling physical resemblance to his maternal great-grandfather, Samuel Claridge Cole, as he was being groomed to take over the reins from his father, Timothy Cole-Thomas. It wasn't his father but his uncle Martin Cole who'd apprised him that his business style was very similar to the approach that his father had taken when he set up the company following the Great War.
His uncle refused to tell him whether he approved or disapproved of his style. He'd been prepared to accept Martin's constructive criticism, and this left him less than confident about the company's direction. Diego knew his style was very different from his father's, but a year after he'd initiated changes and had grown the company to include cotton, soybeans and eventually tea, he felt comfortable not only as the head of ColeDiz International, but also in his own skin as the corporate CEO.
He'd hired Vivienne because of his commitment to service and not-for-profit organizations, and many of his personal contacts were lifelong friends, college buddies and the sons and daughters of other business giants. For him there was no delineation between business and social life. For Diego, socializing was always business-driven, but not necessarily the reverse. He'd made it a rule not to date the daughters or sisters of the men in his social circle.
Hiring Vivienne would serve a twofold purpose. With her as his date and hostess, he wouldn't have to concern himself with female companionship, and just her presence would be enough to indicate he was unavailable.
He'd struck the mother lode with Vivienne as his assistant. She was both smart and socially astute. There was no doubt Sean Gregory was aware of her assets when he married her. But Diego would do what the flashy politician had neglected to do. He intended to capitalize on Vivienne Neal's intelligence, grace and beauty.
Diego winked at the woman standing in his kitchen, a woman who made him laugh and a woman who made him feel things he didn't want to feel. He hadn't known her twenty-four hours, yet felt as if he'd known her forever. It was apparent he'd had to shuck a few oysters before finding that rare pearl. Vivienne had become that exotic rare jewel.
He winked at her. “I can't say I haven't been warned.”
Vivienne returned his wink. “As long as you don't forget, then you'll be all right.”
He shook his head. “You just have to have the last word, don't you?”
She gave him an innocent look. “Yes,” she said after a comfortable pause.
“I think it's time I eat breakfast, so I can go to work where I know I'll always have the last word. Be ready to go out with me this afternoon.”
“What's happening this afternoon?” Vivienne asked.
“I'm taking you shopping. You're going to need a few outfits for this weekend. And while you're there, you can pick up whatever else you want or need.” She lifted her eyebrows at this disclosure. There was no doubt his offer to take Vivienne shopping had surprised her.
“Where is there, Diego?”
“Miami. We'll drive down, shop, hang out long enough to have dinner and then come back.” He glanced at the watch under his cuff. “I'd love to stay and debate you, but I have to leave within the next twenty minutes.”
Vivienne opened