by J. M. Madden
As she looked at the current Clarion CEO, she was again struck with how much he appealed to her. Though it had been strange, she’d never met the man that signed her paychecks. After working the contract for about two months, Sarah had gotten her first look at Clayton Gallagher across a crowded employee cafeteria. Her gaze had been drawn to his stern, scowling figure when he first walked in and Mr. Paulino, ever observant, had explained who the absorbing man was and that he was surprised to see Mr. Gallagher, as he was supposed to have been overseas. Sarah suddenly understood the meaning of ‘pole-axed’. Never before had she felt anything like the shock that went through her body. For the first time in her twenty-six years, Sarah had been struck dumb by the sight of a man. But she had also known immediately he was way out of her league.
Sarah dated fairly regularly, and had learned a lot about herself and what she looked for in a man in the time she had been in New York. One boyfriend, James, had been the longest relationship she’d ever had, at a little over six months. Although she enjoyed his company, Sarah had known he was not the one for her. She and James had agreed to end the relationship amicably and were still friends to this day.
When Mr. Paulino rose from his seat as if to wave Mr. Gallagher over, Sarah almost went into a panic, but before he could Mr. Gallagher had turned and exited the room, his eyes connecting briefly with Sarah’s before he cleared the doorway.
Sarah had made it a point to find out as much as she could about her handsome, intriguing, absentee employer for some ridiculous, masochistic reason. It wasn’t like anything would ever come of it. Several situations had occurred where she should have met Mr. Gallagher, meetings and such, but there was always some reason for his absence. If she didn’t know better, she could almost believe that he was avoiding her. She hadn’t ever even met the man, but the feeling persisted. She had contacted Mr. Gallagher’s executive assistant, Meredith several times to set up meetings with the boss man so she could get his input on how he wanted his personal offices decorated but he had sidestepped the face-to-face and sent back directives through Meredith.
It had been very odd…
Sarah knew for a fact he didn’t have an aversion to women, because his picture showed up in the tabloids or online almost every week with a different beauty, to her consternation. Mostly blondes, too. Sarah didn’t know what was going on within herself, but she had developed an unprecedented fascination with her elusive employer.
And now, as he stood before her, she tried to keep her attention on task.
“Another contract?” She tilted her head and absently pushed a wing of hair behind her ear. Abruptly, Mr. Gallagher got up from the chair and went to the wet bar in the corner. With a large hand, he motioned to the huge piece of cherry, silently asking her if she wanted anything.
“No, thank you.”
Silently, he splashed some juice into a tumbler and moved to the enormous, empty fireplace directly across from her seat. The early sun shone on the glossy surface of a window, sending rainbows across the Persian carpet. Mr. Gallagher motioned to the large, almost full sized portrait above the stone mantle. The man in the portrait was very handsome, but in a cold, austere kind of way. Dark hair was styled and shaped to accentuate the man’s handsome face. Heavy brows slanted over beautiful, tawny colored eyes that surveyed the viewer icily. His full lips were tipped up in a smirk. The man wore an expensive suit and reclined somewhat in a leather wing chair. Although the portrait was impeccably done, a chill crawled over her skin.
“That was my brother Robert,” Clayton supplied. “He died about three years ago in a sailing accident. I took over at the company following his death.”
Sarah had heard a few unkind things about the last CEO, but she hadn’t realized he’d died so recently. Clasping her hands, she scooted to the edge of her seat. “I’m very sorry. I didn’t know.”
He looked at her, surprise flickering across his face. “Nobody at the office told you that you were working for the black sheep of the family, responsible for the death of his own brother?”
Sarah’s eyes widened and she gave a bark of inappropriate laughter before she could stop herself. “No, I must have missed that piece of gossip at the water cooler.”
Turning, he set the empty glass on a side table and sat back down in the chair beside her, with one ankle resting on the opposite knee. Sarah could feel the heat of his body, and it shook her. Butterflies danced uncontrollably in her stomach and there was a tremor in her hands. Nervous expectation danced through her at the thought that he might be leaning closer to touch her. What the hell are you thinking? The man is your boss, no more. It’s not as if he needs any other female companionship.
Sarah tried to look beyond the surface details he related about his brother’s death and realized he sounded that way on purpose, almost defiantly, possibly in an effort to cover up how he really felt. Though she’d just met him, she had a feeling the office innuendo had hurt more than he wanted anybody to know. “Were you close to your brother?” she asked.
Pale gray-blue eyes watched her for a moment, before he finally told her, “As close as one can be to anyone in the Gallagher family.”
Sarah frowned at that. It again sounded very stony, much like the dry recounting of the history of the house, something he’d learned long ago and was just reciting the facts as he knew them. Just what kind of family was this?
“Anyway, let’s move on.” Pulling a folder from a side table, he opened it and held an official looking paper out to her. “The reason I asked you here is to commission you to do a portrait of Robert’s daughter, my niece, Victoria. She’s here for the summer but in the fall she will be going to an all-girls’ preparatory school in Switzerland. It’s a big step for her, and her mother wanted to commemorate her last year before she becomes a teenager.”
Sarah nodded her head, but she felt a pang of sympathy for the young girl. How would it feel to be shipped off to another country, so far away from family and everything she knew, at such an impressionable age? All of Sarah’s family was in Ohio, and she made sure to always keep the lines of communication open, talking to one parent or sibling or another almost every other day. Her parents had come to the city several times; and, although she had been busy for the past year, Sarah had made it a point to go home for every major holiday.
She frowned at Mr. Gallagher. “I’m not much of a portrait artist. I’m more of an object and form kind of girl.” She smiled and shrugged apologetically. “I can probably find you an actual portrait artist through my agent at the gallery.”
The big man was already shaking his head.
“You did a portrait of a little girl sitting at a dressing table viewing her reflection. It was a stunning piece. I want one very similar of my niece. I’m willing to pay you handsomely.” He named a price that was almost half the price of the contract she had just completed, making her eyes widen incredulously.
“You would pay that to a fairly unknown artist to paint a picture in a format she’s not that proficient in?” The disbelief rolled off her, but she was unable to do anything about it.
Gallagher nodded his dark head once. “As long as you are the artist, yes.”
Unable to sit still, Sarah hopped up and began to pace. On one hand, she was extremely flattered; she had never before been presented with an opportunity of this magnitude and probably never would be again. There were artists who had been commissioned painters for years that didn’t pull fees like that. It was absolutely unheard of for a still budding artist to be presented with something so incredible. A sense of elation filled her as she realized he must hold her in very high regard to offer her this.
Then her eyes flicked over the walls. Did she honestly believe her work could merge with those that were already here? Yes, she was good, but nowhere near polished enough for her own satisfaction. Her eyes flicked over the man himself, contemplating. Was he just a rich nut throwing money around? No. She discarded that thought almost immediately. He did seem sincere, although the p
roposition was a bit odd.
Sarah ran her schedule though her mind. She had another gallery showing two months from now, and had planned to use the break after the completion of the Clarion contract to refine some things she had in mind. She already had several of the pieces near completion but was not completely happy with them yet. That voice in her head that was her conscience chimed in. You should do this for him in thanks for what he’s done for your career. Several other contract offers had come in to her agent, but she had not accepted any of them yet, despite her agent’s urging. Yes, definitely, you need to do this for him. Sarah felt a sense of loyalty to Clayton Gallagher for giving her such a boost to her career, and that loyalty swayed her decision.
Crossing her arms under her beasts, Sarah stopped in front of Mr. Gallagher, one leg cocked out to the side.
“I will do the portrait, but I’ll only,” and she held up a forefinger, “accept payment if you like the completed work. And the payment will not be what you quoted. That’s ridiculous for one painting by an as yet unknown artist.” She tapped a finger to her lip for a moment. “I will accept a generous donation to the New York ASPCA in payment for the portrait.”
Sarah felt good with the compromise. She certainly didn’t need the money. She had already begun to see a nice return on the Clarion stock she had purchased with some of the proceeds from the original contract. She had indulged herself and gone on shopping sprees several times and though she’d thoroughly enjoyed herself, she ended up buying presents for her friends and family rather than herself. Financial freedom was unfamiliar territory—she’d had a job since she was fifteen—and she found that she enjoyed knowing that she was able to buy something more than the actual buying.
Mr. Gallagher frowned and shook his head. Standing up, he clasped his hands behind his back, the suit jacket gaping provocatively across his impressive chest. “That is unacceptable. I would require you to sign a contract similar to what you signed for Clarion, and the terms would be laid out specifically, including your fee. There is also the stipulation that you would need to live on premises, for expediency purposes.”
Frowning, she watched as his eyes shifted away. On premises? What was he not telling her? They were now standing practically chest to chest, and Sarah realized it would be very easy to simply reach up and pull his mouth down to hers, even though he was several inches taller. Oh girl, you got it bad. She tried to step away, but she forgot about her damn heels. Her right heel caught on the nap of the carpet as she tried to turn away, but she didn’t fall. Strong hands caught her at the waist from behind, brushing her right breast in the process. She was quickly straightened on her feet and promptly released. The whole incident took no more than a few milliseconds, but her face immediately turned bright red with mortification. She was not stick slim like the women he dated. He had to have felt that.
Kicking off the aggravating heels, she again turned to face him. “Thank you very much. I’m exceptionally clumsy. Heels just make me even more dangerous.” Quickly, and with as much aplomb as she could muster, she returned to the uncomfortable settee, and the conversation. “I have no problem signing a contract, if I am actually the one you want to do the portrait, but I will not accept payment for doing it. I owe you a debt of gratitude for what you’ve done for my career. This will be my way of showing my appreciation.”
Gallagher’s dark brows furrowed menacingly and he squared his shoulders, crossed his arms and planted his feet, as if he were in a boardroom talking to fifty rich old men.
“That is unacceptable. I am paying you for a service. Gratitude has no place in a business transaction such as this.” The words snapped out, lashing her with his contempt.
Sarah’s eyebrows elevated as she prepared to do battle. She did not want to fight with this man, he was too gorgeous for that but she would not give in on this. Her pride and self-worth would not allow it.
“I’m sorry. I won’t accept money for doing this for you. This will be my gift to you. My payment will be knowing that you are enjoying the piece and maybe giving a donation to something I believe in.” Watching him, she knew he was gearing up again, so she held up a hand. “If it offends your business sense so much, don’t think of it as a business transaction. Think of it as a gift from one friend to another.”
Pale eyes, more gray than blue right now, regarded her critically, running up and down her form as his expression hardened. “You are not my normal type of ‘friend’.”
Pink crept up her neck as she realized the direction his mind had gone, along with a sense of personal affront. Just what did he mean she wasn’t his normal type of friend? A series of skinny blondes flashed through her inner eye, straight from the gallery on Page Six of the Post; then a scene of herself brushing her long, mud-brown hair at the vanity. Ok, so she wasn’t a blonde. So what? Maybe she had a few extra pounds in the trunk she could never quite seem to get rid of. So what? She was curvy, but definitely active. Opening her mouth for a smart comeback, she stopped herself. Did she really want to put herself on the block this way? Honestly, she had only just met the man.
The silence lengthened between them.
Yeah, he was probably out of her league but she’d never know if she didn’t put it out there. Being this close to him and experiencing the draw that all those other women had experienced made her feel reckless. A year and a half of unrequited yearning burned through her.
She crossed her legs again, knowing it showcased their length. “Perhaps you need to broaden your horizons.”
Chapter Two
‡
Clayton stared at the young woman across from him. Did she actually just come on to him? Surely he hadn’t heard her correctly. Exhilaration was the first emotion to swamp him, and it was so unfamiliar it staggered him. How could he want her this much already? Was her subtle scent doing something to his brain or what? He let his eyes rove down over her lush curves, felt the slow creep of desire and relished it. It had been too long since he had indulged himself in a woman’s company. About a year and a half, he suddenly realized. The same amount of time since he had first learned of Sarah Tyler and been drawn to her paintings in the gallery. If he had only known that walking into that gallery would irrevocably change his life.
Narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest, he deliberately ran his gaze over her body again, sitting there on the settee, but found himself growing more uncomfortable. The tactic to put her off was backfiring. He reminded himself ruthlessly¸ exactly who and what he was: the only surviving son of a cold, unforgiving family who relied on him for their livelihood. With resignation, he hardened his heart.
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty set in my ways.”
Deliberately, he turned his gaze away from her hurt, slightly glossy eyes and, fighting his guilt, returned to the previous subject, although the words that came out of his mouth surprised even him. “I will have my lawyer draw up an amended contract with your stipulations, although I prefer not to place the entire amount as a donation. For my peace of mind, you will be compensated something, then you can do with it what you want.”
Clayton was glad to see that Sarah had gotten control of herself and the tears had disappeared. His chest clenched at the obvious distress he had caused. She nodded her dark head and forced a smile, re-crossing her legs, once again drawing his attention. With a struggle, Clayton tore his eyes away from her shapely calves and looked back at the folder in his hand. He had not planned on giving in on anything, and had decided before the meeting that if she did not agree to his contract, the deal was off. How had he gone from ‘absolutely not’ to ‘I’ll have my lawyer draw it up’?
“I’ve had Victoria’s schedule printed out. Even though it is summer, we have enrolled her with a few tutors to get her ready for school. There are functions my mother will be hosting here in the house as well. I’m sure you’ll be able to find something to do during those times.” He handed her several printed papers, along with a set of four keys on a ring, then continued.
“These are keys to the sedans in the garage. You are welcome to use them any time. Lunch is served at one, dinner at seven. Please be aware we do dress for dinner.” He waved a hand at her trim yellow skirt and jacket. “What you are wearing would be fine.”
Sarah raised a dark brow, but didn’t say anything. Clayton looked at her young, open face with her vibrant eyes and felt a moment of concern for bringing her into the family house. His mother would have histrionics when she found out he had invited her and would possibly make things difficult. What do you mean possibly? You know she will. Looking at her gently smiling face, he felt like he was arranging to feed a baby seal to a shark.
“I feel I need to make you aware,” he paused, “of my mother.”
Both of Sarah’s brows disappeared into her fringe of bangs.
“What about your mother?” she asked.
“She does not yet know I have hired someone for Victoria’s portrait and she may object to you being in the house. She’s very … outspoken. Please do not be offended by anything she says.”
He watched as she cocked her head to the side and crossed her arms. “Did she know you were going to hire someone or did she have somebody else in mind?”
After a pause, he reluctantly told her, “She has no idea I hired anyone for this. This was my own decision.”
Clayton knew she heard the defensiveness in his voice and he fought to get rid of the guilty feeling. He wanted his niece’s portrait done before she left. It should not be an unreasonable request. His discomfort was forgotten when he saw her face pale.