The Millionaire Meets His Match
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Kate Carlisle
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11
One
“Consider this fair warning. Watch your back or I guarantee they’ll take you down.”
“You’re making too much of this,” Adam Duke said as he eased his black Ferrari into his parking space near the executive entrance of Duke Development International.
“You think so?” His brother Brandon’s voice came through loud and clear over the car’s state-of-the-art sound system. “I’ll be sure to remind you of that after you’ve said your wedding vows and promised to live happily ever after with the girl of Mom’s dreams.”
“You need to chill out,” Adam said. He shifted into Park and grabbed his briefcase before stepping out of his car.
“Hey, it’s your funeral,” Brandon groused. “Or wedding. Whatever. Just don’t be surprised when you find yourself on a honeymoon with some woman who was planted right under your nose by our diabolically clever mother.”
Adam laughed as he took a moment to straighten his tie before strolling inside. The ultramodern office building he owned with his brothers, Cameron and Brandon, was the headquarters of Duke Development International. “I think I’m safe,” Adam said. “The chances of Mom sneaking anything past me while I’m working twenty-two hours a day on this closing are pretty slim.”
His brother, Cameron, also in on the three-way conference call, spoke for the first time. “Despite Brandon’s typical overkill, you know Mom. She’s relentless. She thinks we should all be married and now she’s playing hardball. That means she’ll try every devious trick in the book to make it happen.”
“Right, that’s all I’m saying,” Brandon said, apparently relieved that at least one of his brothers was getting the message.
“Okay,” Cameron said. “Might be a good idea to stay alert for the time being.”
“Yeah, be alert for the skirt,” Brandon said, then added with a snicker, “or you could get hurt.”
The brothers shared a laugh at Brandon’s pitiful attempt at poetry.
“Look, I’ll see you guys later,” Adam said. “We can finish this conversation then.”
Still chuckling, Adam disconnected the call and waved to the DDI security guard who stood at attention next to the wide, polished marble registration desk in the lavishly appointed lobby. He stepped inside an empty elevator car and ascended alone to the penthouse floor.
The fact that his mother was trying to set up Adam and his brothers was no surprise. She’d made it eminently clear on any number of occasions that she wanted grandchildren. But now Brandon was making it sound as if she were suddenly on a crusade and willing to use underhanded means to introduce new women into their lives.
“Take your best shot, Mom,” Adam murmured as he made his way down the broad, open corridor toward the executive offices. He loved Sally Duke, the woman who’d adopted him when he was eight years old, but Adam Duke was the last person on earth who would succumb to her machinations when it came to marriage.
Whistling softly, he walked past his assistant’s empty chair, noticed that her computer wasn’t turned on yet, and marveled that he’d actually made it into work before her this morning. That was rare. Cheryl Hardy was a workaholic who loved her job. A good thing, because they’d be working night and day for the rest of the month, right up to the evening of the gala grand opening of the new Duke resort at Fantasy Mountain.
“What do you mean, she quit?” Adam demanded an hour later. “My people don’t quit.”
“This one did,” Marjorie Wallace, his long-time Human Resources manager said.
“Impossible. We’re about to close on a billion-dollar deal.” Adam pushed back from the massive mahogany desk and rose to pace along the wall of windows that overlooked the craggy coastline of Dunsmuir Bay and the clear blue ocean beyond. It was a breathtaking view of the central California coast, one he saw every day and never grew tired of, but it mattered little now as he whipped around to confront Marjorie. “She’s not allowed to leave.”
“Actually, she is. It’s not like she was an indentured servant,” the older woman said drily. “She’s gone, Adam. Let’s move on.”
“Did she say why?” Adam raked one hand through his hair. “Never mind. I’ll double her salary. We can work this out.”
He didn’t appreciate Marjorie’s dry chuckle. “Oh, really?” the HR manager asked. “How many times did Cheryl remind you that she needed a vacation and you convinced her she didn’t? She told you she was getting married. You brushed her off.”
“She never said a word. I would’ve listened.”
“She told you every day.”
“She didn’t,” Adam insisted, although he had a vague memory of Cheryl mentioning…something…about a wedding. Had she been talking about her own wedding? He couldn’t remember. It hadn’t seemed important at the time.
“She did,” Marjorie maintained defiantly.
Adam rounded the desk and faced the insolent woman up close. “You’re not supposed to argue with the boss.”
Marjorie’s laugh rang out. “Oh, Adam.”
Adam scowled. “Remind me again why I haven’t fired you for insubordination.”
“Let’s see.” Marjorie’s grin remained as she folded her arms across her chest. “Maybe because I’m so darn good at my job? Or maybe because I’m your mother’s best friend and I’ve known you since you were eight years old? Or could it be because I’ve never told your mother who really hit the baseball that broke her office window when you were nine or who trampled her prize tulips that same summer? Oh, and what about the time you were grounded and I caught you sneaking out to—”
“All right, all right,” Adam said irately, holding up his hand for her to stop. “There should be a statute of limitations on that kind of stuff.”
“Sorry,” Marjorie said with a grin. “Honorary aunties never forget.”
“Tell me about it,” Adam muttered. “Look, this is ridiculous. Get Cheryl on the phone.”
“She quit,” Marjorie said, enunciating the words so he couldn’t ignore them. “She won’t be back. She was three months’ pregnant and working around the clock. Something had to give.”
He stopped in midpace and turned. “Pregnant?”
Marjorie nodded.
Appalled, he threw his hands up. “She always insisted she was a shark. She loved the kill. Sharks don’t get pregnant and run off in the middle of a deal.”
Marjorie shrugged. “I guess she was a dolphin in shark’s clothing.”
“Very funny,” he said coldly. “You can’t trust anyone these days.”
“So true.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Adam said abruptly. “I need a replacement, now.”
Marjorie smiled. “I’ve got the perfect person for you.”
Adam stopped her with a look. “I’m warning you, Marjorie. Don’t bring me someone who’s going to get pregnant and leave without notice.”
“Of course not,” she said with a huff.
“And I don’t want some bubble-gum-chewing bobble-head doll.” He stalked back and forth in front of the desk, warming to his rant. “I want someone with maturity, someone who knows the damn alphabet well enough to file something in the right drawer. And I definitely don’t want—”
“I know what you want, boss,” Marjorie said quickly. “And I’ve got just the person for you. Trish has gotten rave reviews as one of our best special assignment assistants. Her credentials are—”
“A floater?” Adam said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Are you kidding me?”
“Special assignment assistant,” Marjorie said through clenched teeth.
He waved her off. “I won’t work with a floater. This job’s too important to trust—”
“We don’t have a choice,” Marjorie said with a hiss, then added in a normal tone, “Trish’s credentials are excellent. She graduated from a very good college, then went on to get her MBA. She’s smart as a whip. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
“How smart can she be if she’s in the floater pool?” he said stubbornly.
Marjorie straightened her spine and pierced him with a look. “Our floaters—I mean, special assignment assistants—are top notch and you know it.”
“Of course they are,” he said. It was true. Duke’s floaters were an enthusiastic and skilled group. But that wouldn’t be enough for this job.
“Now, you behave,” Marjorie added in a hushed voice, making Adam feel like a ten-year-old who’d been caught stealing apples from old man Petrie’s orchard. “Trish is very smart and pretty.”
“Yeah, but can she type?” Adam muttered acerbically.
Trish James had heard more than enough from Adam Duke, who obviously hadn’t noticed that she’d been standing in the doorway to his office for the last five minutes.
It’s showtime, she thought, steeling her nerves as she pushed away from the door and crossed the wide, elegantly furnished office to introduce herself.
“I type 120 words per minute, Mr. Duke,” Trish said brightly as she held out her hand to shake Adam Duke’s. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Trish James, your special assignment assistant.”
As their hands touched, Trish felt a jolt of heat and stared up at the man, hoping her apprehension didn’t show on her face. She’d known from the start that the CEO of Duke Development would be a formidable opponent. She just hadn’t realized that he’d be so tall and intimidating. Or so attractive—if you cared for the sort of potent, masculine toughness that must’ve appealed to every last woman in the known universe. Looking into his dark blue eyes, she felt her stomach take an unwelcome dip. Even seething with anger, Adam oozed sex appeal from every inch of his broad, muscular frame. Minutes ago, as she’d watched him from the office doorway, Trish had had to stifle an almost overwhelming urge to sneak away.
But Grandma Anna hadn’t raised a coward, so she’d pushed ahead and here she was, ready to beard the lion in his own den.
“Trish dear,” Marjorie said with a wink, clearly aware that Trish had overheard everything the HR manager and Adam had just said. “This is Adam Duke, of course. You’ll be working together for the next few weeks. I know you’ll do a wonderful job. Call me if you have any questions.”
Marjorie gave Adam a final warning glance, then smiled again. “Have a good day, both of you.” Then she turned and raced toward the door.
Trish almost laughed. Sure, have a good day. It was really starting out well. She tracked Marjorie’s escape out the door, leaving Trish on her own to face the man who had haunted her dreams for the last year. A man who’d turned those dreams to nightmares.
A man who didn’t even know who she was.
“Welcome,” Adam said gruffly.
“Thank you,” Trish said graciously, ignoring the insincerity in both their voices. They’d just started off on the wrong foot. Determined to right the situation and conduct herself professionally, she cleared her throat and said, “I appreciate that you’d rather not depend on a floater, Mr. Duke, but let me assure you that I know my way around an office.”
His eyes narrowed. “We refer to them as special assignment assistants, Ms. James.”
It took her a moment to realize he was joking. “Of course we do. My mistake.”
He smiled reluctantly. “That’s better.”
Her entire system zoomed up to red alert. It was that devastating smile that did it. Warning! her nerve endings screamed. In that moment, she could see how his former assistant might’ve been seduced into working for him until she snapped in two.
Determined to follow through with her plan, she squared her shoulders. Despite his gorgeous face, Adam Duke was a shark. He personified the killer species, and Trish ought to know, since he’d cold-bloodedly destroyed everything she’d ever loved. Now it was payback time. That’s why she was here.
Looking at him now, she had to admit he was the best-looking shark she’d ever seen. His eyes sparkled with both awareness and cynicism, but Trish could imagine them turning to blue ice if he ever discovered her true reason for being here.
“Ms. James?”
“What? Yes?” Trish blinked. The last thing she needed was to be caught staring soulfully at her unforgiving boss. “I’m sorry, I was taking mental notes. Could you repeat that?”
With a thoughtful nod, he glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to leave for a meeting shortly, but I’ll show you around first.”
As they crossed the luxurious space, Adam pointed out the locked cabinet where he kept some personal files, next to a sideboard with coffee and sodas to which she could help herself.
“Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate that.”
“I’m not sure you will when you have no time to go to lunch and this is all you’re stuck with.”
“At least we won’t die of thirst,” she said lightheartedly, but her grin faded as she met his gaze and was struck again by his sheer strength and masculinity. She had to force herself to get a grip.
Despite his good looks, she knew he was inflexible and demanding, knew he would be a formidable taskmaster. Frankly, she wished she could tell him to take this job and…well, she couldn’t say it. She needed the job too much. She was on a mission and she would accomplish what she’d set out to do. Let Adam Duke look down on her, if it made him feel bigger and better. She didn’t care. The worse he treated her, the more justification she would have for doing what she’d come here to do.
But why did he have to be even more gorgeous in person than in the newspaper photographs she’d studied? Honestly, didn’t she have enough to handle without being bombarded by feelings of attraction for a man who had single-handedly brought so much pain and destruction to her life?
No, it didn’t matter how handsome he was. All that mattered was, if not for Adam Duke, Trish would still have her home and her grandmother would still be alive.
Adam checked his wristwatch again and Trish snapped back to attention. “I’m sorry, Mr. Duke, but I don’t know your schedule yet. Do you need to leave for your meeting?”
“I’ll be cutting it close,” Adam said distractedly. “Let me get you settled before I go.”
He led the way out to the large alcove where she would work. He pointed out the wall of file drawers behind her desk that held most of his clients’ personal information and all the deals he was currently working on.
“Arranged in alphabetical order,” he added.
Remembering his comment to the HR manager, Trish smiled. “I assure you I’m familiar with the alphabet.”
He managed a rueful chuckle. “Let’s hope so, Ms. James.”
Trish grabbed a pad and took fast notes as he gave her a list of names of people whose calls he would always take, along with his cell phone number.
“While I’m gone, you can get your desk arranged, then I’ve left a cost analysis to be typed up, as well as some other letters and documents that need revisions. If you have time, you can start studying what’s inside those file drawers. I’ll need the Mansfield papers when I get back.”
Trish wrote everything down, then smiled. “I’ll take care of everything, Mr. Duke. You won’t be sorry.”
With a look that said he was already sorry, he said, “Call me Adam.”
“And please call me Trish,” she said.
“Right.” He looked at her for a moment, his mouth set in a skeptical scowl.
She smiled expectantly.
“Don’t forget the Mansfield papers,” he said finally, then strolled out of the executive suite, leaving Trish more shaken than she wanted to admit.
“That went well,” Adam muttered in disgust as he pounded the elevator call button. “Knucklehead.”
As he contemplated the attractive brunette who was now assigned to be his interim assistant, three things bothered him. First, the woman had been able to sneak up on him without him even noticing, and that never happened. He attributed his lack of awareness to his angry reaction to the news that his formerly invaluable assistant had run off and left him in a bind.
It had been obvious by her sardonic smile as they shook hands that Trish James had heard every word of his tirade over Cheryl’s untimely departure—and that was the second thing that bothered him. No one ever saw Adam Duke lose his cool. His control was legendary. Marjorie didn’t count. He’d known the woman for almost as long as he’d known his adoptive mother.
But now Trish James had seen him ranting like an idiot and that was never a good way to begin a working relationship—not that they would have that lengthy a working relationship, he hastened to add. He would need someone much more highly qualified to take over the position of executive assistant, not some refugee from the floater pool.
He immediately backed away from that thought. Marjorie was right, the floaters in his company were all good workers with great attitudes, willing to pitch in wherever they were needed. But Adam would need someone with top skills and experience, a self-starter and a go-getter with enthusiasm for the long work hours and a deft hand at dealing with his very demanding clients.
The third thing that bothered him was that she didn’t look like the usual matronly floater his company employed. Notwithstanding that mocking little grin, her mouth was a bit too wide and her lips too lush. Her almond-shaped, dark green eyes seemed to focus a little too knowingly on him. He’d noticed the confidence in her posture and the way she held her chin high, and found himself grudgingly admiring her. She seemed determined to make this work.
She wore her shiny, chestnut-brown hair pulled back from her face in a classic style, and her black, pinstriped pantsuit fit her tall, poised figure like a glove. He generally hated pantsuits on women, but hers wasn’t so bad. If his instincts were right, and they usually were, Trish James’s suit covered one fantastic set of legs.
His groin tightened uncomfortably at the thought and he smacked the elevator button again. Her touch had sent something hot and wicked blasting through him and Adam wasn’t about to encourage it.
But hell, every time she’d smiled up at him, Adam had felt his pulse spike. Her eyes had glittered with natural humor and her smiling lips were moist and full.
“And you hightailed it out of there like you were being chased by the town bully,” he muttered in annoyance as the elevator doors finally opened. Two tech guys exiting gave him a puzzled look, but he ignored them both as he stepped inside.
It was just as well that he’d rushed out of the office, he thought as the elevator descended to the lobby. It would’ve been a lot worse if he’d stuck around and she’d happened to notice the bulging evidence of his desire for her.
Adam rubbed his hand along his jaw in frustration. What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t some hormone-driven kid out on a date with the prom queen. This was just lust, pure and simple, and easily conquered. He wouldn’t be led around by his libido. Ever.
Shoving open the private entry door leading out to the parking lot, Adam realized what this sudden attack of lust was all about. He’d been working day and night for months in anticipation of closing the Fantasy Mountain resort deal. He just needed to get the job done, then he needed to get laid. And not by one of his own employees, he added silently. There were any number of willing women he could call for a night of casual sex. And he would. As soon as he closed the deal.
As he jumped into the driver’s seat of the Ferrari, he remembered his earlier conversation with Brandon and Cameron. Something about Mom trying every trick in the book to set him up with a marriage-minded woman.
An image of Trish James flashed through his mind and Adam frowned. Okay, that was ridiculous. There was no way his mother had anything to do with Trish being hired. Yes, the timing was a bit coincidental, and Adam didn’t believe in coincidences. But the idea was ludicrous.
He turned the key and listened to the finely tuned, high-performance engine roar to life. It was beyond ridiculous to imagine his mother going to that much trouble. He realized that he was buying into Brandon’s paranoia and he shook it off.
But, meanwhile, he would do everything he could to avoid spending too much time with the gorgeous brunette who seemed destined, through no fault of her own, to make his calm and ordered life a living hell.
After a quick glass of water and a few cleansing breaths, Trish was ready to get to work. After all, she was being paid well and her work ethic was strong, so just because she was out to ruin the man didn’t mean she wouldn’t do a good job for him while she was here.
She started by exploring her new workspace. It was bright and spacious, just outside the doors to Adam Duke’s palatial office. Everything was big and impressive, befitting the executive assistant to the president and CEO of Duke Development International.
The cherrywood desk was almost as big as her apartment’s actual living room. And while it wasn’t quite as dramatic as the floor-to-ceiling view of the coast from Adam’s office, Trish actually had a view of the ocean from the window directly across from her desk. If she wasn’t careful, she could get used to all this extravagance. “But you will be careful,” she admonished herself. She wasn’t here to get comfortable, to enjoy any perks of the job. Just as she wasn’t here to sigh over Adam Duke like some starstruck teenager.
But really, why couldn’t the guy look like a troll?
“Let it go, Trish,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Just get to work.”
Forty minutes later, after she’d finished revising Adam’s letters and documents and completed the cost analysis he’d left, Trish faced the file drawers. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for, but the faster she found something incriminating inside these drawers, the faster she’d be able to give up this sham job and be on her way. Maybe she would find what she needed today. That would certainly save her from weeks of turmoil, working side by side with the most delectable man on the planet.
“He even smells good,” she groused, recalling his subtle scent that reminded her of green forests and autumn rain. “You weren’t going to dwell on that, remember?”
Resolutely she opened the first drawer and began to sort through the files. An hour later, after memorizing every client name from A to M, Trish came to the Mansfield file, the one Adam had requested. He still wasn’t back from his meeting so she looked through the file, studied the issues involved in the deal, then laid the thick folder on Adam’s desk.
Finished with the tasks he’d assigned her, Trish checked her e-mail, printed her list of job priorities. She vowed to be on time every day and to do her job to the best of her ability while creating a pleasant work environment for everyone around her. She would make herself an invaluable member of Adam’s team.
And then she would destroy him.
