by C. A. Storm
“Listen here, you mother loving son of a rat. Sam is short for Samantha, so that’s Ms. Kelly to you!” Sam cleared her throat, her naturally husky voice gravelly with her rage. She was angry, like Hulk SMASH angry, but even still, it was difficult to overcome a lifetime of verbally creative cursing to avoid upsetting her strict mother.
Panting, shaking with the force of her unadulterated rage, the feelings she had kept bottled deep inside since the whole debacle started erupted from deep within her. Well, at least she had a target to vent her pyroclastic fury upon! So caught up in her rage, Sam hadn’t heard the office door opening behind her, nor noticed Lizzy giving the new arrival a warning shake of her head. On a roll, Sam continued.
“Secondly, I wouldn’t work for you now if the good Lord Himself offered me the position, complete with the services of Chrises Evans, Hemsworth, Pine, and Pratt as my naked pool boys!”
From the way Lizzy fanned herself at the mental image, Sam wasn’t the only one with that reoccurring fantasy. Besides, could you blame them?
“So, you can take this job and shove it up your judgmental, misogynistic butt with the Rusted-Iron-Spiked-Dildo-of-Doom!”
Chest heaving, Sam took a long, deep breath before releasing it on a shaky huff. Pasting a patently false smile on her face, she said in her sweetest, cheeriest voice, “Have a lovely day, Mr. Leon, and you can kiss my fat, Irish ass!”
Okay, so she was going to have to beg her mother for forgiveness later, but so worth it!
A loud crash boomed from somewhere deeper in the office before dead silence fell. With a nod of satisfaction, Sam grabbed her stuff, then froze. Behind her, a slow, steady applause grew in tempo and strength, echoing into the silence and causing Sam to cringe.
Sam glanced at Lizzy, who was trying to hide a smirk as she turned away to wriggle her mouse and stare at a blank monitor. Yep, no help from that corner. Sam swallowed, stiffened her spine, and slowly turned around, clutching her burden against her chest. When another crash sounded from the deep in the office behind Lizzy, Sam jumped and found herself looking up at a goddess.
Okay, not an actual goddess, more like a supermodel who had apparently wandered into the wrong office, but the woman was stunning. Tall and willowy, with wavy platinum-blonde hair in a stylish, short bob framing striking features. Emerald eyes with gold flecks danced in amusement as the supermodel gave Sam a grin to make the Cheshire Cat tremble. She was dressed in an oversized, cowl-necked, Cashmere sweater baring one ivory shoulder, while a set of dark burgundy jeans hugged long, lithe legs that kept going, and going. Her calf-high suede boots were high-heeled, and easily pushed the woman over six feet in height, more than a foot taller than Sam. Subtle jewelry, both tasteful and expensive, and a deft hand with make-up completed the supermodel’s ensemble, and all combined to make Sam feel short, round, and dumpy.
“You tell him, sister,” the woman said, her voice bright and lyrical, as of course it was. She stepped forward, offering her hand as she continued, “I’m Clara Leon, sister of the judgmental asshole, although I must say that while Rik may love our mother, she isn’t really a rat.”
Blushing furiously, Sam offered a weak, apologetic smile as she juggled her stuff and accepted the proffered hand. “I’m sorry about that. My temper got a little carried away there.”
Giving Sam’s hand a warm, friendly pat, Clara laughed. “Oh, believe me, Rik has that effect on plenty of people.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully, “Although, usually it’s only after he sleeps with a woman and leaves her high-and-dry afterward that women usually yell at him.”
Tilting her head, Clara regarded Sam intently. “I take it you’re Sam Kelly? The Sam Kelly interviewing for the position with Cœur de Lyon Estates?”
A loud, muffled curse sounded behind Sam, from a distinctly masculine voice, but Sam ignored it. “Yes, well, I was supposed to, but apparently not anymore.”
“Why don’t we just pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen,” Clara offered with a grin. “See, while Rik may be the CEO of Lyon Enterprises, I actually manage the Estates. That’s why our grandparents sent me down to sit in on the interview.” Shifting her gaze over Sam’s head, Clara wrinkled her nose and smirked before she turned her attention back to Sam. “Why don’t you and I go downstairs, have some coffee, and we’ll chat about the position alone, instead?”
Catching the mutinous tilt to Sam’s chin even before a single word escaped her lips, Clara tightened her grip on the hand she had yet to release and proceeded to drag the shorter woman out of the office with surprising strength.
“Come on, the least we can do is get you some coffee and go over your portfolio,” Clara continued, steamrolling over any potential rejections. “You won’t have to deal with my jerk of a brother, we can even talk shit about him all you want! It’s one of my very favorite pastimes anyways.”
As Clara tugged Sam out of the office door, Sam cast a helpless look over her shoulder. Sadly, Lizzy was unable to receive the full force of Sam’s expertly and carefully honed puppy dog eyes as the other woman was staring fixedly at her monitor. Apparently, the woman was also silently laughing her ass off, if those shaking shoulders were any indication.
Standing slack-jawed behind Lizzy’s desk, however, was easily the most sinfully handsome man Sam had ever seen. She only caught the briefest glimpse before the office door swung closed behind her, but it was enough for her to register the man’s sheer, masculine beauty, height and strength—and sadly, he was the misogynistic jerkface masquerading as the CEO of a Fortune 500 company.
Sam felt a thrill deep inside of her body as she met his brilliant green eyes, one she chalked up as satisfaction at getting one over on the big, way-too-damned-sexy asshole, and before the door slammed shut, she gave in to temptation.
Sam stuck out her tongue and cackled wickedly.
Chapter 4
Rik propped his big feet on the edge of his desk as Lizzy answered the intercom. Leaning back in his chair, he stared thoughtfully at his feet, wriggling the toes of his unclad right foot as he crossed his hands behind his head and stretched languidly.
“My grandfather decided I needed to interview some guy named Sam Kelly this morning for the Landsmaster position at the Estates. Fuck that shit, he’s a disaster waiting to happen! I don’t want him anywhere near the Estates. I want you to run interference when he gets here this morning.”
Rik felt the strange sensations coalescing, centering on his chest. Rubbing absently at the burning sensation, he tugged at his shirt and peeked down. Nothing there. With a puff of exasperation, Rik leaned over and grabbed his other sock.
“I already have a prime candidate anyways, so I’m going to need you to give Mr. Kelly a kind ‘thanks, but no fucking way’ for me.” Yeah, a candidate that isn’t a potential fire hazard. “Tell him I got called away for an emergency this weekend and that we’ll reschedule some other time, once I get back.”
Cocking his knee, Rik tugged on his sock as he continued. “Tomorrow, send him a polite, but firm, email letting him know we decided to go a different direction. You know the proper shit to say, you’re the nice one.”
Sock secured, Rik kicked his feet back up and stretched in his chair, turning his gaze from the phone to look out the floor-to-ceiling window of his office that gave him a prime view of Denver. The southern side of the city was painted in rich ambers, the dawn’s early light covering the landscape in warmth. Although he didn’t have a view of the Rockies from his private suite, just the knowledge they were at his back had always given him a sense of stability and security. He had been born in the Rockies, and if he had his way, he’d never leave them for long.
“Anyways, sweetie,” Rik grinned, knowing full well that Lizzy would get him back for the affectionate term, “Before Mr. Unnatural Disaster gets here, could you bring me some coffee? I haven’t had a chance yet, and I’d kill for some good brew.” Rik’s smile fell away as the burning in his chest once more intensified, painfully so. Grimacing, he admitted pl
aintively, “I’ve had a rough weekend.”
Yes, he was not above using wheedling to get his way. Lizzy had been with the company almost as long as he had, treating him as her little brother more than her boss. A little sympathy play always worked wonders.
Rik grinned in anticipation of Lizzy’s response to his playing the Big Bad Boss Man role. The voice that came over the intercom, however, was not Lizzy’s. And it changed Rik’s world forever.
“Listen here, you mother loving son of a rat.” That voice was a husky, feminine growl and he damn near toppled over backward as his cock went from zero to ludicrous speed between one heartbeat and the next. Even distorted by the intercom, it was honey and whisky, sin and sensuality, and it near drove him to his knees with the desire to make her scream his name.
“Sam is short for Samantha, so that’s Ms. Kelly to you!”
Sam. Samantha. Ms. Kelly. I wonder how she’d sound as Mrs. Leon, Rik thought, then blinked in shock as the burning sensation in his chest ignited. Wait? Mrs. Leon? What the fuck?
“Secondly, I wouldn’t work for you now if the good Lord Himself offered me the position, complete with the services of Chrises Evans, Hemsworth, Pine, and Pratt as my naked pool boys!”
That particular mental image, of four Hollywood heartthrobs serving the faceless woman who possessed that voice, drew a growl from Rik’s throat as a red haze briefly blinded him. Oh, hell no! Only naked man servicing you will be me!
“So, you can take this job and shove it up your judgmental, misogynistic butt with the Rusted-Iron-Spiked-Dildo-of-Doom!”
Her roar rocked Rik back in his chair. He just managed to catch himself from falling backward, when he heard her damned purring voice once more. “Have a lovely day, Mr. Leon, and you can kiss my fat, Irish ass!”
Boom! Down Rik went, his chair crashing sideways and sending Rik to the ground. Staring up at the ceiling in bemusement, one foot still propped up on the edge of his desk, Rik’s first thought was, Oh, I’ll kiss that ass all right, right after I get it nice and red and ready for me. His brow furrowed. What. The. Fuck?
It took a moment for Rik to reorient himself, and another moment to jump to his feet. Shoving his chair out of his way, sending it crashing against his desk, Rik tapped into his innate glamour, the mystical power that naturally coursed through his veins as one of the Leanaí, as he raced through the office. His power let him move with the swiftness of the wind, letting him dodge around the thankfully empty desks of the main office, as he hunted for the source of the husky, sweet voice that made him think very naughty thoughts and want to do very naughty things. Repeatedly.
Rik drew up short as he came to the reception area. Part of his mind noted the shaking shoulders of Lizzy and the presence of his youngest sister at the front door, but his attention was truly captured by the shorter woman with her back to him. Her lush, curvy body was emphasized by a charcoal gray suit that would look great on his bedroom floor.
Turn around, Rik mentally commanded, instinctively reaching out with his glamour to compel her to do just that.
She ignored him.
Rik felt a thrill of shock as his glamour rolled off of her, but before he could pursue that, she spoke again and he had to lock his legs to keep from falling to his knees.
“Sorry about that. Temper got away from me,” she said in a soft, rueful tone that had him shivering in need. He was so fascinated by the flex of her curvy, Irish—very Irish, apparently, if he went by the mane of fiery curls straining to free themselves from a cruel bun and the scattering of freckles he noted on the back of her neck that possibly led all the way down to that—ass, Rik was unaware he was once more rubbing at his chest with enough vigor the buttons of his dress shirt were forced to give way to give him access to the flesh beneath.
Clara’s remarks, particularly the one about the women he had slept with, tore Rik from his trance and wrung a disgusted groan from him. Little sisters, the world’s foremost experts at cockblocking!
Rik glared at his sister. Angrily waving his hands and shaking his head, he tried to halt the cockblock train from leaving the station. Clara, of course, ignored him as completely as the tiny firebrand had.
“See, while Rik may be the CEO of Lyon Enterprises, I actually manage the Estates. That’s why our grandparents sent me down to sit in on the interview.”
The cheeky wench met his eyes and smirked at him. That earned her the middle finger. Before Rik could interject, say something to get the redhead to turn around and look at him, Clara blithely continued.
“Why don’t you and I go downstairs, have some coffee, and we’ll chat about the position alone, instead?”
Still unable to find words—any words—to interrupt, Clara proceeded to drag Ms. Kelly out of the office, chattering all the while. “Come on, the least we can do is get you some coffee and go over your portfolio,” Clara continued, steamrolling over any potential rejections. “You won’t have to deal with my jerk of a brother, we can even talk shit about him all you want! It’s one of my very favorite pastimes anyways.”
When Sam glanced back to look at Lizzy for support, Rik’s world tilted askew. Stormy blue-gray eyes glinted behind a pair of large, black-rimmed glasses when they turned his way. His breath caught. With the glasses, the business suit, and her hair in a bun, she was the living embodiment of the naughty librarian and sexy secretary all rolled into one curvaceous package.
She quite literally took his breath away. With a pale ivory complexion only redheads seemed to possess, there was a hint of freckles peeking through the concealer she wore to try and hide them, dusting her pert nose and the curve of her cheeks. The bow of her full lips was emphasized by a dark wine color that made him thirsty for a single sip. With the instincts of a lifelong bachelor, his eyes zeroed in on her left hand, noting with satisfaction the lack of any bands, although…was that a hint of a thin pale line on her ring finger?
He was distracted from further pursuing that train of thought when he looked up and met her eyes once more. Ms. Kelly then smirked and stuck out her tongue, his last glimpse of her before the heavy wooden doors of the office slammed shut, leaving him staring, lost in thoughts of just what she should be doing with that tongue.
Rik had no idea he stood there, shoeless, his hand beneath his shirt rubbing his chest, but his introspection was brought short by Lizzy’s amused voice.
“Well, that was a royal fuck up, wasn’t it?”
Turning narrowed eyes down to find Lizzy grinning impishly, eyes twinkling in amusement, Rik sniffed disdainfully and tilted his chin to an appropriately arrogant angle. Smoothing his face into an expression of cool indifference, he shoved both hands into his pockets.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. As I said, I already have a candidate for the position. I’m sure Ms. Kelly can find other employment elsewhere.” Although it looks like Clara’s going to offer her the position anyways. Interfering brat!
Besides, Rik wasn’t completely sure he wanted to see Ms. Kelly again. The way she affected him, the way his heart pounded and his cock hardened just at the sound of her voice, he wasn’t sure he could survive being around her at all.
“Oh?” Lizzy drew out the word, her grin growing wider, eyes nearly disappearing in her mirthful expression.
Rik didn’t trust that tone in her voice, the implications in that single word. He liked it even less when she raised a finger and pointed to his chest, where his shirt hung open. “That says otherwise, m’lord.”
Unable to resist, damned curiosity, Rik glanced down. Barely visible through the gaping front of his dress shirt, beneath the dusting of golden curls on his chest, he caught the hint of brilliant jade and sapphire swirls undulating over his left pectoral muscle.
“Fuck. She’s my damned anam cara.”
And Rik wasn’t sure whether he should be more concerned that he had apparently royally fucked up and pissed off his soulmate, or to shout in ecstatic joy that he had been gifted with finding the other half of his soul.
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Chapter 5
Sam kept her lips clamped shut during the ride down to the lobby, trying to ignore the amused glances Clara kept sending her. When they finally stepped out of the elevator, Sam shrugged into her pea coat, juggling her briefcase and portfolio.
Taking a deep breath, she turned to face the other woman. “Look, I’m sorry about how I acted up there. Your brother just tripped my trigger.”
“Pshaw,” Clara dismissed easily, tucking an arm securely through Sam’s, completely preventing the shorter woman from making a clean escape. “Believe me, I lived with Rik for a very long time, so I know just how easily he can piss someone off. You handled him just fine. As a matter of fact, I’d say you passed your first test!”
“Test?” Sam squeaked. Clearing her throat, she tried again. “Test? I thought we were just going to have some coffee, because I really need some coffee, but the rest was just to piss your brother off…”
Sam trailed off as Clara’s tinkling laughter filled the lobby. As Sam gave the taller woman the side eye, she inhaled sharply when she caught the vibrant aura that cloaked the woman like a second skin. It undulated through shades of sunlight and moonglow, glistening with prismatic sparks; an aura brighter and more vivid than any Sam had seen before.
Her breath caught in her throat, only for it to explode free in a hacking cough that had Clara pounding on her back.
Charming, Sam, was her first thought, rapidly followed by, Fuck, she’s not human. And if she’s not human, that means her brother’s inhuman, too.
Sam snorted. More like subhuman, and a total dick. Oh, I bet he’s got a gorgeous dick…no! Bad Sam! No cookie! Bad libido! Down!
♥ ♥ ♥
Clara glanced sidelong at the petite powerhouse she was dragging beside her. Sam seemed to be talking to herself, her animated face giving away far too much, but Clara had caught her brother’s mad dash out of his private office, as well as his reaction upon seeing the curvy redhead.