More Than Perfect

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 Diablo, she’d deliberately chosen colors and designs that would help her blend with the background. Create the appearance of the perfect PA. Clearly, she’d taken the concept a step too far. Maybe a couple of steps too far.

“Well, 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. A beautiful, richly appointed home. A man who could give her pleasure in the bedroom, even if he couldn’t give her love. A life filled with luxury, her every desire fulfilled, her every wish granted. It would be enough, wouldn’t it?

He glanced toward the door. Well, it would be enough for most women. Maybe not for his intrepid PA since her every wish and desire revolved around her excelling at her job. Now that he could understand. Understand and admire. Just thinking about her helped him gather himself. Relax. Realize that on this front, he was in control of his own destiny.

Thank God for Angie.

Two

“Not many women can wear that dress and get away with it,” Trinity commented. “It’s because you’re so slender.”

Angie tugged at the plunging drape of the bodice. “No, it’s because I’m built like a prepubescent boy.”

Trinity shook her head. “Honey, that figure is all woman. True, it’s not voluptuous, but no one would ever mistake you for a boy. And that shade of aquamarine is stunning on you. It really makes your eyes pop.”

After Britt’s betrayal, Angie had been reluctant to form a close relationship with another woman. She definitely hadn’t been interested in finding another best friend. Trinity had ignored every one of Angie’s defensive barricades and steamrollered right over them. It took a full six months before she’d broken through the final one, but once she had, the two became as close as sisters.

Angie gave a quick shimmy. “This dress is too tight. I think I need a size larger.”

“It’s perfect and you know it. It’s exactly what Devlin requested.”

It might be exactly what he requested, but it wasn’t at all what Angie wanted to give him. Or rather, showcase in front of Gabe Moretti. Maybe if this were a romantic dinner with Lucius, and the dress were meant for his eyes alone … The instant the thought—the dream—popped into her head, she ruthlessly plucked it out again. That would never happen.

She’d heard the gossip about Lisa and her on-again, off-again relationship with first Lucius and then Geoff Ridgeway. The relationship had ended in Lisa’s marriage to Geoff two short months after Angie accepted a job at Diablo, Inc.—over a year after her own split with Ryan. Rumors and gossip had flown through the office, hot and heavy, only abating when it became clear that the newly-weds were ecstatically happy. How many times had she driven that point home in an attempt to quell the rumor mill and give her boss some peace? When Lisa announced her pregnancy, and the couple had named Lucius the baby-to-be’s godfather, the last, lingering whispers had finally died off.

Even so, Angie saw what no one else did, what Lucius had successfully hidden from all but the most discerning eyes. He was beyond miserable, working day by day to put a stoic face on a hideous situation, which confirmed her suspicion that he’d been madly in love with Lisa. But she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he’d never get over losing the love of his life to his best friend, even if Angie couldn’t understand why anyone would choose the affable, slightly geeky Geoff Ridgeway over the sexy-as-hell Lucius Devlin.

No doubt losing his soul mate explained his cold-blooded attempts to find a mother for Mikey. He wasn’t interested in any sort of emotional involvement; he simply wanted a permanent nanny for the baby—not that it was any of her business.

Angie forced her attention back to the task at hand and turned, frowning at the way the thigh-high skirt clung to her backside, the horizontal pleats giving the illusion of attractively rounded hips. The miniscule skirt showcased mile-long legs, while the three-inch heels made them seem even longer.

“Don’t you think it’s awfully short?” she asked Trinity in concern.

“Not even.”

“A bit low cut?” The question carried an unmistakably desperate air.

“You have great collarbones and a pretty chest.” Trinity approached, circled. “I say, show it off.”

“I’m not sure this is smart.”

“Hey, you said Devlin wanted you dressed to distract. Trust me. This’ll distract every living, breathing man within a ten-mile radius. Maybe fifty miles. How are you planning to wear your hair?”

“Up.”

Trinity planted her hands on her hips and tilted her head to one side, her spiky black hair, slanted green eyes and gorgeous golden-brown skin making her look like a cross between a cat and an elf. “I’m torn. The back is cut on the low side. If you wear your hair down, you lessen the impact of it. But you always wear your hair up.” She gathered the length in her hands and lifted it into a loose and careless ponytail, the curls cascading down the center of her spine. “Okay, this might work. Hair has that flirty, windblown look and yet, you can still see plenty of skin.”

“A must, I gather,” Angie said drily.

“A definite must,” Trinity agreed. “Go easy on the makeup. Let your body do the talking.”

“My body hasn’t done any talking for three full years.”

Trinity shot a swift glance over her shoulder. “Girl, don’t go admitting that where someone can overhear you. I mean, that’s just sad.”

“But true.”

“Mmm. You go out dressed like this more often and your body wouldn’t just be talking, it would be screaming out the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ on a nightly basis.”

Angie didn’t dare admit that her body had never screamed the “Hallelujah Chorus.” Hummed a few bars, but that was about as close as she’d come. “What about jewelry?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.

“Earrings. Dangles. Preferably silver.”

“I think I have something that might work. They’re beaten silver, a cascade of twisted hearts.”

“Oh, the irony.”

Angie grinned. “Not that I’m obsessive, or anything.”

“Hell, no. Why would you be?” She gave Angie a hip nudge. “Come on. Pay for the thing and let’s go have dinner and drinks. We should celebrate your release from the land of the average and banal.”

Stifling her qualms, Angie bought the dress and heels, then threw in some ridiculously expensive undergarments that were little more than scraps of lace held together by elastic threads. In for a penny … She found the rest of the evening far more enjoyable than the torture of clothes shopping. Trinity had a flair for distraction. Of course, it didn’t hurt that they split a bottle of wine over an Italian meal.

Several hours later, she sat back, replete. “I should have bought that dress in a size larger,” she confessed ruefully.

Trinity groaned. “Maybe two. It was those bread sticks. They do me in every time.”

“Funny. I would have said it was the tiramisu.”

“Not a chance. Desserts here don’t have calories. The waiter swore it was true. I might be able to give up bread sticks—or at least cut back a little—but don’t ask me to give up their tiramisu.”

“Fair enough.”

“So are you done brooding?”

Angie blinked in surprise. “Was I brooding?”

“He called you office furniture. That’s enough to make anyone brood. But I guarantee The Devil won’t call you that ever again.” Trinity nudged the shopping bags with the toe of her Choos, intense satisfaction sliding through her voice. “Not once he sees you in that dress.”

Angie flinched. “Don’t.” Though she’d never told Trinity how she felt about Lucius, there was no question her friend suspected something. “Nothing will ever happen. Not with him. He’s actually thinking about getting married.”

Trinity’s mouth dropped open. “No way.”

“It’s a sensible decision. He needs a mother for Mikey.”

“And has he found her or is he in the looking phase?”

“Looking.”

Trinity’s hazel eyes danced with mischief. “Well, then. Maybe that dress will have him looking in a whole new direction.”

It was just a joke, Angie told herself for the umpteenth time, smoothly changing the subject. A tantalizing possibility, but utterly impossible. Unrealistic. And considering it as anything else could only lead to one place. Utter heartbreak. She couldn’t go there. Not again. And so she chatted and laughed and tucked her heartache away until she could escape home.

The minute she entered her house, she carefully tucked her purchases into the far recesses of her closet where the outfit wouldn’t be in a position to taunt her for the next few days. And even though Lucius asked for the receipts, she refused to hand them over. It didn’t seem right to have him pay for the dress, not to mention the more intimate pieces she’d bought. Not when she could wear them on more occasions than their business dinner.

Friday came far too soon for Angie’s peace of mind. She left work promptly for a change and refused Lucius’s offer to pick her up. Easier to take a cab to the waterfront. She arrived at Milano’s on the Sound exactly on time. She loved Joe’s restaurant, loved the romantic ambience of it, even though tonight was strictly business. The layout of the interior appealed to her on some basic, feminine level, the overall design making clever use of spacing, angles and elegant furnishings. Joe had even created little nooks and oases that gave the diners the illusion that they were the only patrons present.