by Lia Lee
As he went through profile after profile, however, there was just something wrong with each of them. This one had a kind of artificial prettiness that set his teeth on edge, that one looked like she was worn out. He was wondering whether to scrap the entire process and try again when one profile made him pause.
The picture showed a short woman, likely no taller than 5'4”. Her hair was a deep and vivid red of a type he had never seen before, but something told him that it wasn't dyed. Under the lights, she looked pale, but there was a healthy pink tinge to it. What truly caught the eye, however, were her eyes. They were a bright emerald that shone with some kind of emotion. From the glare she was giving the camera, it was a safe bet to say that it was rage. Her round chin was lifted up stubbornly, and for some reason, he found himself wanting to kiss her.
Looking at her body in the tight green dress, he had to say that despite her not being his type, it was still compelling. She was curvy, her round white breasts pushed high in the dress, and under a tiny waist, her hips billowed like a wave.
Good child-bearing hips is what they might have said a long time ago, he mused.
By all rights, this girl should have been passed along to the rejected pile like all the rest, but something stopped him from doing that. Tucker wondered if he was just too tired and irritated to make a real choice, but somehow he didn't think so.
In the course of making his fortune, he had taken some terrible risks. He had dropped stock that others told him were sure things, and he had taken on more risk than anyone else he knew. Tucker had had deals go bad, but in general, he listened to his instincts, and they paid off.
Right now, his instincts were telling him something about this young woman, and he decided that he wasn't going to stop listening to them now.
"All right then, Luna Madrigal, let's see if you've got what it takes," he said out loud, and he pulled out his phone to make the call.
***
Luna figured that it was another test. They had promised her that it would be over soon, and she had every expectation of holding them to all of it. The driver who came to get her looked askance at her jeans and her tattered black hoodie, but she lifted her chin and dared him to make a big deal of it.
She felt she had made it far enough in the process that nothing she could say or do would affect very much at all. Then the sleek dark car pulled up to an impressive glass building downtown, and she was slightly less sure.
She scurried to the front desk, dodging people who wore more than twice her rent on their bodies on a regular basis, and waved down the receptionist. Even the receptionist was dressed better than she was, and she grimaced inside.
"Can I help you?"
"Oh, um, I'm reporting to Forward Edge?" she asked anxiously. "Um, they told me to be here, and I don't know if someone was meant to meet me or..."
"Oh!" said the receptionist. To Luna's surprise, the other woman sat up straight, and when she spoke, it was with a significantly more respectful tone. "Of course, Miss Madrigal. Right this way. I'll take you up."
Luna weakly protested that she could find her own way just fine, but the woman was already stepping forward to guide her with a kind of deference that was bewildering. Without the ability to protest or to figure out what was going on, however, all Luna could do was follow along in her wake, getting more nervous as it all went on.
The glass elevator ride to the top floor was nerve-rackingly smooth and fast, and the receptionist presented her with a large solid door.
"Um, should I..."
The other woman leaned around Luna, pressing a small button hidden in a carved wooden motif.
"Miss Madrigal here to see you, sir."
"Come in."
The voice that responded was deep and dark in a way that Luna couldn't understand, but it sent a strange velvety ripple through her. It made her nervous at the same time that it made her feel soothed, and she figured that that was something that she could figure out much later.
The receptionist nodded that she should enter, and gulping back a strange source of fear, she opened the door.
Chapter Three
The door opened onto a beautiful corner office high above Chicago. With the mostly glass walls, she could look out over the city all the way to Lake Michigan, which shimmered like an aquamarine that day, and for a moment, Luna was simply captivated by the beauty on display.
Then she remembered that she was there for a reason , and she straightened up hastily, closing the door after her.
There was a tall, dark man standing close to the desk, hands clasped behind his back as he watched her with a wolfish glint in his eyes. She figured that he was close to forty, with a classic handsomeness that made her think of men from period films where the women all wore crinolines and petticoats. His hair was brushed back from his face, making his astonishing amber-colored eyes even more surprising.
"So you're Miss Madrigal," he said, walking towards her. "Pretty name, where does it come from?"
For some reason, that slow stalk towards her was alarming, and she didn't realize that she was backing away until her back hit the door.
"Um, it's my name, my parents gave it to me... I guess it could be Irish?"
He didn't say anything about her retreat, though she could see the amusement in his eyes. He stopped while he was still an arm's length away from her, but she could almost feel the force of his presence against her like a solid thing. He was a man who was obviously used to command, and she felt something in her bristle at that.
"Irish. Of course, red hair, green eyes. I suppose that makes sense."
"And what about you?" she asked, a touch of exasperation in her voice. "What do you do for Forward Edge?"
He looked surprised that she had a question of her own, almost, she thought, as if he were startled she had the nerve to speak to him. Well, if he thought that he got to boss her around as if she were the help, he definitely had another think coming.
"That's not important," he said, and she glared at him.
"Then get out of my way," Luna said, side-stepping him and walking into the room. To her surprise, however, he reached out quick as a rattlesnake to wrap a strong hand around her wrist.
"Get out of your way?" he asked with a scowl. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means just what you think it does," she fired back, her voice sparking with anger. "You said that what you do isn't important, so why should I listen to you? Of course, if you decide to actually answer my damn question, I might have a reason to stand in one place and listen to you."
He still hadn't let go of her wrist, but she refused to break eye contact with him. Luna could see a few different things flicker across his gaze, among them fury and disbelief at being snapped at. She had met men like this one before, and they always thought that no one could deny them until someone did.
In the back of her mind, she knew that she was risking the thousand dollars, but right now, she hardly cared.
"You are stubborn, aren't you?" he said, a slight smile curling a corner of his mouth. He let her go, and why was there a small part of her that protested that? She shrugged, tucking that strange part away, and turned her attention to the man again.
"I've been told that before," Luna said. "I like to think that I just cut through crap faster than other people. So who are you?"
He chuckled a little, and for some reason, that sound made her want to shiver. There was something about this man she couldn't take her eyes away from. She couldn't explain what it was, and she told herself that in the long run, it probably wasn't all that important.
"All right then, Luna. I'm Tucker Keene."
The name sounded familiar, but this was Chicago, and famous people and people who thought they were famous came through all the time. "All right then," she echoed, and then she arched an eyebrow expectantly. "Is this part of the test?"
"What isn't?" he said with a shrug.
To her surprise, he went back to stand with his back to the executive des
k, arms crossed across his broad chest. She couldn't help but notice that his suit was tailored to him, revealing narrow hips and long legs.
"All right, tell me about yourself," he said, and it had the ring of an order.
"What... what do you mean?"
He scowled at her, and she had to repress the part of her that wanted to flee at that.
"Do I need to use smaller words?" he asked, and she could have snapped her teeth at him.
"All right. I'm Luna Madrigal, I'm twenty-two years old, my favorite color is orange, I don't have any parents, any pets, any boyfriends, or an apartment that is going to exist in three months. I want to make jewelry more than I want to do anything else, and hopefully when I get through this process, I'll have a thousand dollars in hand and I'll be a thousand dollars closer to making that dream come true."
He looked thoughtful throughout her speech, and he narrowed his eyes at the last piece. Really, who was this man, and where did he get off thinking that he could give her orders of any kind?
"Really? Your dream is to work?"
She glared at him.
"It's not that unusual," she said defiantly. "I want to make my visions come to life, and when your visions involve gold and platinum, that takes capital. I want to see my pieces on runway models and queens."
He chuckled a little, and in that chuckle, she could hear everyone else who had ever told her that her dreams were far beyond her, that it was stupid for her to try to go after anything that wasn't a job in an office or perhaps in a school or a hospital. She felt her hands knot into fists and glared, but Tucker Keene didn't seem to notice.
"Why not strip?" he asked, and she gasped, staring at him. What the hell was wrong with this man?
"I beg your pardon?" she asked, aware of how maidish and silly that sounded, but she couldn't help herself. Whatever she was expecting, it wasn't that.
"I asked why you didn't strip," he said casually, his voice as calm as if he were talking about the weather. "You've got a great figure for it, and with hair like that you'd get plenty of good attention..."
"Been to a lot of strip clubs then?" she asked furiously. "Let me guess, you're one of the customers who thinks that all the strippers are in love with you and that you're special to them."
He gave her a sharp white grin, and she found her stomach turning over. Tucker Keene, whoever he was, was a predator, and there was a small voice in her head that was telling her to get as far away from him as she could. There was another voice inside her that was telling her just the opposite, but she could deal with that voice later, she reckoned. Or perhaps not at all, perhaps that would be for the best.
"As a matter of fact, Luna, I don't really care whether I'm special to a woman or not. In general, I just like knowing that I can get what I need from them."
There was a way the conversation was going that was making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end. She felt as if she were stuttering even when she wasn't, and her entire body felt too hot. She tried to tell herself that it was anger, but somewhere deep inside, she knew that it wasn't. At least, it wasn't just anger...
"I... what do you need from them?"
It was perhaps the dumbest question that she could have asked, and she had a moment to see that white grin grow even wider before Tucker moved far more quickly than she thought he could. In less than a heartbeat, he had crossed the floor to where she was standing. She had just a moment to wonder what in the world he was doing and what in the world she had gotten herself into when he swept her into his arms.
Luna knew that she was no weakling, but there was no way for her to fight against his strength, the overwhelming dominance that ran through him like a vein of gold. In a moment, he had trapped her against his chest, and his mouth was slanting over hers in a kiss that left her feeling dizzy and stunned.
She was a young woman who had been navigating Chicago since she was a teen. She knew how to deal with unwanted jerks who thought they needed their hands and mouths on her. There was something drastically different about this, however. There was something about the way he brought forth a deep heat inside her, there was something about the way her body seemed to melt instinctively into his that made her pause, and in that pause, she was lost.
She could feel her hands slide up his back, clasping behind his neck and making sure that he wouldn't stop anytime soon. When his tongue probed at her lips, she cautiously opened them and was rewarded by a rush of heat when she felt his tongue caressing hers. She had never thought that she had so many nerves inside her, she had never thought that she could feel so much from one kiss. It was as if there was a deep spring inside her that had never been tapped before, and now it was spilling out heat and need and things she had no name for at all.
"Oh... oh my god," she murmured, and it was as if she had broken a spell.
He pulled away from her, and a part of her cried out that he could do it so easily. There was a gratifying moment where she realized that he looked as dazed as she did, but then he wiped it away in favor of a more neutral expression.
"Well, that was interesting," he said, and there was such a little smirk in his voice that Luna's temper, not on the best of terms that moment anyway, boiled over.
She didn't say anything, however. Instead, without making any noise at all, she stepped close to him again.
Luna knew that she had thrown him off balance. Those extraordinary amber eyes widened, and he looked like he was on the verge of stepping back before she grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him down to kiss him again. This time the spark of heat that raged between them lit up even further, and Luna could feel it flow through her, hot as swift lava.
Even if she was unskilled, her kiss brought a strong reaction out of Tucker. His arms wrapped around her as if he were never going to let her go, and she could feel the heat of his response against her body. It was as if there was a powerful fire that existed in the space between them, and that it was simply waiting for this opportunity to burn out of control.
She gasped with surprise when she felt his strong hands move to her shoulders, pressing her back against the desk. She should have felt more nervous or even afraid, but instead she exulted in his strength, pressing back against him simply to feel how powerful he was. He was so much bigger and stronger than she was that it was nearly intoxicating.
Luna was lost in a sensual haze until she felt his hand on the edge of her shirt. He slid his hand under her shirt as if it was the most natural thing in the world, brushing his fingertips over the smooth skin of her belly. She could feel fire trail after his touch, but there was something turbulent about it, something wild. No one had ever touched her with even that degree of intimacy before, and for some reason, it was terrifying. It felt as if she were getting ready to cross some sort of impassible river, and at the last minute, she couldn't do it. She was pressed against the desk being kissed by a man who definitely knew how, and suddenly, she rebelled.
Somehow, Luna was able to marshal her strength, and with a fierce shove, she pushed away his hands.
"Hey-"
If she had stopped to listen, she would have said that his voice was soothing, but she wasn't stopping. The moment that Luna could feel his weight lift from her, she dashed for the door. She felt like a despoiled Victorian maiden running from the scene of her ravishment, as if she were spilling out of her dress, tears in her eyes.
She could hear Tucker calling to her, but she only dashed to the stairs, yanking the door open and descending as fast as she could. It wasn't until she hit the ground floor, red, panting and coughing, that she realized she wanted nothing more than to disappear, that no one had followed her.
Of course no one had followed her, she thought bitterly. He probably had women running out of his office all the time. She was just one more in what must be a very long and very amusing chain.
Shaking her head, she walked down the street. She told herself that she didn't even care if she lost herself the thousand dollars. All that mattered was getting
away from Tucker. Even as she walked, however, there was a lingering heat in her belly that made her wonder exactly how true that was.
***
High in his palatial corner office, Tucker remained standing where he had had been when Luna had suddenly fled. He touched his lips gently, where they still felt warm. He wasn't sure that he had ever kissed a woman like Luna before, and he wasn't sure that that was a bad thing.
Christ.
The girl was like a living firecracker, but was it all an act? He had to find out. Tucker was a man who was very used to chasing his whims and his desires, but this felt like something more. No one had ever lit a fire like that inside him, but he had known some very skilled con women.
He grinned a little. Either Luna was exactly what she seemed to be, or she was a skilled little con with a delectable body that he wouldn't mind eating up. There was a hunger in him that rumbled at the thought of her wide hips, her generous figure.
Tucker thought for a moment, and then he made a call. She had made one hell of a move by running out of the office. Now the ball was solidly in his court, and he knew that his move had to be a good one.
Chapter Four
For the next two days, Luna threw herself into her work. After all, now that she had blown the opportunity with Tucker, that meant that she had to go find real work, didn't it? She canvassed at her favorite local jewelry shops, which were usually happy to send work her way, but things were apparently going through a dry spell. Two days of looking for work turned up absolutely nothing, and Luna's demons came back.
Of course she was never going to amount to anything. Of course she was never going to find herself the career that she wanted. She was going to have to go back to waiting tables, and then she would look up one day and see that all of her visions had gone dark and sad...
She woke up on day three of the job hunt to an unidentified call coming in on her cell phone.
"Hello, yes, this is Luna Madrigal," she said, trying to make sure that the excited and desperate quiver stayed out of her voice.