“Of course, Mr. Duke,” she murmured.
“And call me Adam.”
“Of course.”
She almost collapsed as Adam closed the door to his office. What was wrong with her? It wasn’t as if she’d never seen a good-looking man before. But for some reason, this one seemed capable of mesmerizing her. As he’d stared at her, she’d felt the electric attraction. She’d been unable to breathe, aware of his every movement. She could almost feel his touch.
How was that fair? In case she’d forgotten, Adam Duke equaled the Enemy.
She rose from her desk and stood at the window where she gazed out at the wide blue expanse of ocean. What she should do is go and dunk herself in the cold water. These feelings were utterly unacceptable and she would not give in to them.
“It’s just chemistry,” she mumbled. She refused to feel anything but contempt for the man. After all the pain and loss she’d suffered because of him, she couldn’t afford to lose her nerve now that she was so close to achieving her goal.
“So snap out of it, right now,” Trish lectured herself. “What would Grandma Anna say if she could see you now?”
Trish conceded that Grandma Anna would’ve taken one look at Adam Duke and said, “What a hunk.” Her grandmother had always had an eye for a handsome devil and her favorite line had always been, “I may be old, but I’m not dead.”
But then Grandma had suffered the heart attack that led to her death. And Trish laid the blame for her grandmother’s death directly at the feet of Adam Duke and his company.
If not for his cutthroat business tactics, her grandmother would still be alive and she and Trish would still live in the spacious apartment above their lovely Victorian antiques and gift shop known as Anna’s Attic.
Victorian Village, the charming row of connected three-story Victorians on Sea Cove Lane, had provided homes and livelihoods for six families over several generations. Trish had grown up there, and eight months ago, right after she obtained her MBA, she’d banded together with her neighbors to look into buying the building from the long-time landlord and applying for historic landmark designation. Then everything changed. The landlord died, and before the historic landmark paperwork could go through, a development company swept in with a better bid. The landlord’s children had no sentimental attachment to Victorian Village so they sold it to the highest bidder. The development company bought the block-long building, threw out the occupants and demolished their homes and livelihoods in order to build a concrete parking structure.
That company was Duke Development Inter national.
It seemed that Adam Duke needed more parking for his expanding company, so with one sweep of his powerful hand, he had single-handedly destroyed six families’ dreams. Grandma Anna’s heart had literally broken after she was forced to move from the only home and business she’d known and loved since she first married her husband all those years ago.
Trish shook away the unhappy memories and hurried back to her desk. It wouldn’t do to be caught staring out the window, the very thing she’d sworn not to do.
The memories helped strengthen her resolve and she went to work. On her short breaks, she pored through more files, looking for something, anything, that would connect Adam Duke to the unsavory business dealings she knew he was involved in. So far, all she’d found were neatly organized files with legitimate documentation and clearly itemized fees and costs. No double billing, no questionable investments, no shady transactions. But she knew it was only a matter of time until she found something. The destruction of her home and livelihood couldn’t have been the only underhanded deal he’d negotiated in all his years in business. She knew what Adam had done probably wasn’t illegal per se, but it was sneaky and unfair and mean-spirited. And she would find something eventually, some kind of evidence that would expose him as the sleazy businessman she knew he was. Only then would she fulfill the promise she’d made at her grandmother’s deathbed, finally put her memories to rest and go on with her life.
By the end of the day, Trish was no closer to finding anything she might use against Adam Duke than she had been that morning. She turned off her computer and grabbed her purse, then knocked on Adam’s office door. When he called out, she poked her head inside. “If there’s nothing else you need, I’ll be leaving for the day.”
“Dammit,” he muttered.
With some alarm, she checked her watch. It was almost six o’clock. “My usual hours are nine to five-thirty but I’ll be glad to stay later if you need me.”
“What?” Adam looked up and frowned as if just noticing her. “Oh. Sorry. You’re leaving? That’s fine. Have a good evening.”
“What’s wrong?”
He paged through the file, his mouth set in a grim line. “Something’s missing from this file.”
Trish’s eyes widened. “I-I put everything on your desk.”
“I’m sure you did.” He thumbed through both stacks of papers clipped into the file. “But there’s a lease amendment missing. It’s got to be somewhere in the files, or maybe it’s around Cheryl’s-er-your desk.”
“I’ll check.” In a panic, she rushed back to her area and rifled through the desk drawers. Had she subconsciously sabotaged a file? Of course she hadn’t. She stopped and took a deep breath. Tried to relax. Then she carefully checked the file drawer, nearest to the place she’d first found the Mansfield documents.
“I think I found it,” she said, walking back into Adam’s office.
He jumped up from his desk and met her halfway. “Where was it?” he demanded.
“It was tucked inside the Manning file.”
He rolled his eyes. “Manning. Great. I suppose that’s close to Mansfield.”
“Next file over.”
“Good to know.” He walked back to his desk where papers were scattered everywhere. “Thanks for finding this. It would’ve been disastrous if the client found out we’d lost it.”
“I’m glad I could help.”
“I just wonder how many more mistakes like this one are waiting to be found.”
“I can start checking through the files tomorrow if you’d like.”
“Good idea.” He rubbed his knuckles across his jaw. “I guess Cheryl was under more pressure than she let on. This never would’ve happened if she was on top of her game.”
“Three months’ pregnant and trying to plan a wedding?” Trish said. “I’d call that pressure.”
Adam chuckled ruefully. “Yeah, yeah. I guess I didn’t help much. Still, this could’ve been a costly mistake. I’d appreciate it if you’d start going through the files more closely tomorrow.”
“Of course.” Trish almost laughed out loud at the request. She now had a legitimate reason to pore through the files and he’d handed it to her on a silver platter. She almost felt guilty, but refused to let herself go there. “Do you need anything else tonight?”
“No, thanks,” Adam said as he sat back down at his desk. “You go and enjoy your evening.”
She watched as he rolled his sleeves up his muscular arms. He’d long ago removed his jacket and his tie was off now. His usually well-groomed thick, dark hair was unruly and looked as if he’d combed it with his fingers more than once that afternoon.
A shiver ran up her back that had nothing to do with any temperature shift and everything to do with the ruggedly handsome man sitting before her.
She realized that she was staring. Flustered, she said, “You’re working late tonight?”
“It’s not that late.”
She checked her watch. “It’s after six.”
He shrugged. “That’s not late. I’ll be here another few hours getting these documents finished for another meeting tomorrow.”
“I can stay if you need help.”
He glanced at the work spread out on his desk, then looked at her. “You don’t have to.”
“At least let me order you dinner before I leave.”
“Not necessary.”
But it was nece
ssary. She would feel guilty all night long if she left him working alone without food. “It’s not a problem.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” he said, then pulled his wallet out and handed her a $50 bill. “That would be great. Thanks. I think Cheryl’s got Angelo’s Pizza on speed dial.”
“Pizza? Are you sure?”
“I always order pizza when I work late.”
Trish’s eyes narrowed. “How often do you work late?”
“Almost every night.”
“You eat pizza every night?”
He calculated, then shrugged. “Just about.”
“That’s not very healthy.”
He grinned. “It’s got all the food groups.”
She simply shook her head and walked out to her desk where she found the file folder of local restaurant menus she’d seen earlier. She placed an order with a nearby restaurant for grilled chicken and rice with green beans and a salad.
She busied herself by starting on the filing project, going through each of the folders more closely, as he’d requested. It also gave her the chance to continue her search for something incriminating, but so far, there was nothing.
After forty minutes, the food delivery arrived. She found a tray in the kitchen down the hall, laid the food out and took it into his office.
He did a double-take when she placed the tray on his desk. “What’s this?”
“It’s real food,” she said.
He grinned. “You’re pretty bossy, aren’t you?”
“I just believe in good nutrition,” she said defensively, and waited while he tasted everything.
He watched her with amusement as he took the first bite of chicken. “It’s good.”
She nodded. “And good for you.”
He took another bite. “No, it’s really good.”
“I’m glad.” She sat on the edge of the chair in front of his desk. “It’ll keep you going better than pizza will.”
“You may be right.” After a few more bites, he said, “Marjorie mentioned you have an MBA.”
“You were listening?”
His lips twisted in a self-deprecating grin. “Okay, fine, I deserved that.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, I didn’t mean-”
“It’s okay,” he said with a laugh. “But in my own defense, I’ve had to deal with some of our floaters before. You haven’t.”
“Did you mean special assignment assistants?” Trish said, biting back a smile.
He laughed again. “Okay, I was an ass.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “I wouldn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to say it,” he said wryly.
“But you had a right to be angry,” Trish allowed. “I can’t imagine someone leaving you high and dry in the middle of such an important deal.”
He bit into a green bean. “I’m still angry. But I suppose I’m somewhat to blame. Cheryl did mention getting married a few times, but I’ve been so wrapped up in the Fantasy Mountain deal, I guess I let it go in one ear and out the other.”
“This is the ski resort I’ve heard so much about?” She’d seen the photographs of the resort lining the walls of the lobby downstairs.
“Yeah,” Adam said, taking another bite of chicken. “We’re closing the deal at the end of the month and we’ve planned a major celebration. The investors and their families will be staying there for a long weekend. There’ll be a big formal party and lots of hoopla. If we can get our act together.”
“I’m sure it’ll come together nicely,” Trish said. “The photos of the resort look beautiful.”
He sat forward in his chair. “It’s a great place, Trish. Top-of-the-line luxury, with a spa and a world-class restaurant, great trails and ski runs. It’s fabulous. The rooms are rustic, but warm and beautiful and elegant at the same time. I can’t wait to show it off.”
Trish couldn’t help but get caught up in his enthusiasm. “It sounds wonderful.”
Adam looked thoughtful. “Cheryl was in charge of the big opening-night gala we’re throwing for the investors.”
“A gala?”
“Red carpet, formal ball, the whole bit.”
“Sounds exciting.”
He stabbed at a small piece of chicken. “It will be if we can still pull it off. That’s something else I’ll need to bring you up to speed on tomorrow.”
“Oh, I’d love to work on something like that. I’ve always dreamed-” She stopped. Whoa. No dreaming, please. What was she thinking? She’d been drawn in by his charm again. She carefully checked her watch, then stood. “Naturally, I’ll be glad to do whatever you need me to do. I’d better be going now. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Adam seemed surprised by her abrupt change in attitude, but said smoothly, “Of course, it’s late. Thanks again for everything. See you tomorrow.”
“Yes, good night.” She hurried out of his office, grabbed her purse off her desktop and raced to the elevator. As she waited, she berated herself. What was wrong with her, sitting around chatting with him as though they were the best of friends? Lest she forget, Adam Duke was not her friend and never would be.
And furthermore, as far as the opening-night gala was concerned, if she managed to complete the real job she’d come here to do, she’d be long gone before the Fantasy Mountain formal ball ever took place.
Three
She should’ve quit yesterday.
It was now Trish’s fourth day on the job. She’d been through every file drawer along one long wall of her workspace but had found absolutely nothing incriminating about Adam Duke. Nothing that could be used to create even the tiniest public outcry against him and his company. On the contrary, yesterday she’d stumbled upon a full drawer of files containing the many charitable foundations he served on, along with pages and pages of donations he’d given over the years. The man seemed to be a veritable paragon.
“He even wants to save the whales,” she muttered.
But that’s not why she should’ve quit. She wanted whales to have a good life, too. And it was great that he supported all those charities. But did Adam have to come across as such a Boy Scout? She knew he wasn’t, knew all those good deeds were just a façade to cover up the slimier projects his company carried out. There were plenty more files to search and she knew she’d find something eventually. She had to. She’d been here almost a week and so far he’d treated her so nicely, she was racked with guilt.
But that wasn’t the reason why she should’ve quit, either. No, the reason was that she was starting to like Adam Duke. And not just because he was beyond handsome, not just because her heart stammered whenever he got close to her and not just because she was starting to dream of him at night. God help her.
No. The problem was, she was starting to like him. The man himself. His sense of humor, his sense of right and wrong, his work ethic, the way he treated his subordinates. Everyone in the company seemed to adore him and as much as she’d fought it, she found herself teetering dangerously close to that slippery slope. And adoration was not, repeat, not listed on her business plan.
And even if she did adore him-which she didn’t-Adam Duke was the last person on earth she would ever get involved with. Not that he’d asked her out or anything. He never would. She was his employee and he was probably too damn conscientious to ever cross that line. And that was fine, too. She’d heard enough office gossip to know that she wasn’t his type at all. Meaning, she wasn’t a supermodel, tall and thin and beautiful-if vapid. Nor was she the type to fall into bed with a man just because he took her out to dinner.
She fumed as she slammed shut another file drawer. Even if he did ask her out to that fancy dinner, she would say no. Because Adam Duke was the enemy.
“Remember, Trish?” she muttered fiercely under her breath. “That’s why you’re here. The man is the enemy. Try to stay on track, would you?”
“Good morning, Trish,” Adam said.
Okay, she might’ve let out the eensiest little squeal, but she applaud
ed herself for not jumping more than six inches at the sound of his voice. Why did he continue to sneak up on her?
“Good morning,” she whispered hoarsely, trying to catch her breath.
“You’re trying to make me look bad, aren’t you?” he said, gazing at her through narrowed eyes.
“What? Me? No.” She glanced around quickly. The file drawers were closed. There were no incriminating notes on her desk. How had he grasped the true reason why she was here?
He laughed and every last synapse in her nervous system stood up and did the cha-cha-cha. Who needed coffee when Adam Duke was in the room?
She cleared her throat and moved to her desk. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I thought I’d be the first one in the office,” he explained. “But you’ve beat me to it every day this week and here you are again, already settled in and hard at work.”
“Oh.” She was such a moron. “Right.” She tried to breathe evenly as she fiddled with the staple remover and almost gouged her thumb. “Um, well, I do like to get an early start on things.”
“Great,” he said with a wink and a crooked smile. “I like that, too.”
She resisted the urge to check her pulse. She looked away, tried to swallow, but her throat was dry as dust.
“Everything okay this morning?” Adam asked.
“Uh, yes.”
“Any calls?”
“No, sir.”
“Sir?” He grinned. “I like the sound of that.”
She shook her head. There was that teasing sense of humor again. And that, combined with a winning smile, was surely the most attractive quality in any man. Well, a perfectly shaped rear end helped, and Adam Duke had that going for him, too.
“Are you ready to go over the opening-night arrangements?” she asked as Adam turned toward his office.
“Absolutely,” he said. “Grab your notes and come in.”
Trish squelched the thought that her notepad wasn’t the only thing she wanted to grab. As she followed him into his office, she took it all in: the perfect butt, the wide shoulders, his masculine scent, his powerful stride. The man exuded strength, charisma and incredible sex appeal, and his ethics had the appearance of being honorable. So what was she doing here? Besides tormenting herself, of course? Lust, forbidden and sweet, roiled inside her and she almost groaned. How could she be so stupid as to be falling for him?
The Millionaire Meets His Match Page 3