The Inconvenient Laws of Attraction

by Trish Wylie

  ‘I have the papers you requested.’

  Swiping a cloth over his large hands, he ignored her and began staining the carved piece of wood laid out on a workbench in front of him.

  ‘It’s a list of personal assets and properties.’

  ‘You’d think I’d know that if I requested them.’

  ‘You didn’t request them?’ Not that she’d been there when the call came in, but Carrie on the front desk was normally pretty reliable when it came to—

  ‘Stalking me again?’

  ‘I have never stalked you.’

  ‘Some guys might be flattered.’

  ‘I don’t think your ego needs any help.’

  Had she said that out loud? Maybe he hadn’t heard her over the echoing music? The corner of his mouth twitched. Oh, he’d heard. Well, as overjoyed as she was to be a source of amusement to him…

  Looking for somewhere to set the file down, her gaze fell on a heavy bed with ornate scrollwork on the posts and a huge headboard carved with curling leaves and branches; incredibly lifelike birds and squirrels were scattered at random intervals. It was practically a work of art. Olivia glanced sideways at him as dense, dark lashes lifted and his intense gaze locked with hers.

  The temperature in the room jumped several degrees, a bead of moisture trickling into her cleavage. The woman immediately wanted him to lick the same path it had taken. Even the professional’s mouth was dry.

  ‘Did you make that?’ She waved the file in the general direction of the bed.

  ‘Showing an interest in what I do the next step in your plan, is it?’

  She had to know. ‘Are you this judgemental with everyone or have I been singled out for special attention?’

  ‘You want my special attention, sweetheart, all you got to do is ask.’

  Shaking her head, Olivia wondered why she was surprised. She should be getting used to it by now, and the accompanying reaction from her body when she realised she was standing within a few feet of evidence he was good with his hands.

  ‘You can leave the file.’

  He was dismissing her after she’d trekked halfway across the city in temperatures the equivalent of the face of the sun? Olivia didn’t think so. Not till they’d cleared up a few things.

  ‘Mr Clayton.’

  ‘Blake.’

  ‘If I’m going to work with you—’

  ‘Work with me. Hmm.’ He dropped the brush in the can of wood stain. ‘Still haven’t figured it out, have you?’

  ‘Figured what out?’

  ‘Didn’t you go to some fancy law school to learn all this stuff?’ He wiped his hands on the cloth again.

  ‘All what stuff?’

  ‘Stuff like who calls the shots.’ Tossing the cloth aside, he continued holding her gaze. ‘You won’t be working with me. If I hire you, you’ll work for me.’

  Technically true, but she could argue a technicality. ‘I’m employed by—’

  ‘Seriously—’ the corner of his mouth tugged again ‘—consider the T-shirt.’

  ‘They pay my salary.’

  ‘And Warren Enterprises pays them. Way I figure it—since I’ve just been handed the keys to the kingdom—that means I pay you.’

  Not until he signed the papers, he didn’t.

  ‘So if I’m stepping up to the plate—’ a potent smile began to form on his lips ‘—you get to be at my beck and call, day and night. I holler, you come a-runnin’.’

  Summoning the professional demeanour expected of an employee of one of Manhattan’s most respected law firms, Olivia stopped herself from running through the endless possibilities involved with being at his beck and call, day and night.

  Wait a minute. She was playing messenger girl so he could prove a point? Her eyes narrowed. ‘Trust me when I tell you I’m not paid anywhere near enough for that kind of service. I’m good at what I do, Mr Clayton. That’s why I’m here. I can work with you, represent Warren Enterprises’ best interests and ensure a smooth transition for you to head of the company. But I’m not going to bring you coffee, I’m not going to jump when you snap your fingers—’ she stepped across the room and set the file down beside him ‘—and I’m not a messenger.’

  The slow hand clap started when she was halfway across the room. ‘You practice that on the way over?’

  Olivia kept going, the words ‘justifiable homicide’ jumping into her head. She was almost at the door when a large hand captured her elbow, causing her to jerk in surprise. She swung round. She was a heartbeat away from allowing the training of her former career to kick in before she realised where she was and who he was. Horrified by what she might have done, she took an immediate step back, bumping her spine into the doorframe.

  She closed her eyes. ‘Please tell me you didn’t stain this doorframe before I got here.’

  When she opened her eyes again, he was setting a palm on the wood beside her neck. Immediately glancing at her one remaining escape route, she watched another large palm flatten on the wall beside her waist. Like it or not, she wasn’t going anywhere. Not without hurting him.

  ‘Nice speech,’ he commented.

  ‘I meant every word of it,’ she said with a lift of her chin, trying desperately to ignore the erratic thudding of her heart. One man should not be that breathtakingly gorgeous up close. She took a deep breath and stifled a moan. He absolutely shouldn’t smell that good.

  For a second she felt a little bit dizzy. She could really do with some air that wasn’t filled with testosterone. Everything around him contracted and went fuzzy again, leaving her unable to focus on anything but him. Her gaze went to the full lip she was so attracted to—the one she wanted to kiss, lick with the tip of her tongue, suck and maybe even nibble a little.

  When had she got so sexually frustrated? She tried to remember the last time she’d been on a date—the kind with the remotest possibility of ending in great sex.

  Well, that was depressing.

  ‘If you’re not up to the task, maybe I need to find another lawyer.’

  Thank you! It was exactly how she needed him to be. If he added charm—or, worse still, seduction—to an already potent mix, she would be in deep, deep trouble.

  Not to mention naked. Fast.

  ‘For the record, Mr Clayton, underestimating me is a bad idea.’ And she wasn’t kidding about that. Thanks to her former profession, she could have him flat on his face on the floor in less than ten seconds and when it came to her present occupation— ‘I’ve been assigned to the Warren accounts since I joined the firm. I know the company inside out and back to front. You won’t find anyone more qualified than me.’

  He frowned. ‘You worked for Charlie?’

  ‘I met him.’ She softened a fraction at the mention of the father he’d lost. ‘But I didn’t work with him.’

  ‘For him,’ he corrected.

  ‘With him,’ Olivia argued. ‘That’s how we do things at the firm: we work with our clients. It’s a long-term partnership based on mutual trust and common goals.’

  ‘I’m not looking to get married, sweetheart. I’m looking for someone to do what I tell them to do when I tell them to do it. Is that a problem for you?’

  ‘You tell me to jump, I ask how high?’

  ‘Works for me…’

  Over. Her. Dead. Body.

  Her breath caught as his head lowered. What was he doing? When he stilled, his face inches away from hers, every fibre of her body ached with an almost crippling desire to be kissed. How could she dislike him and want him so badly at the same time? Maybe the heat was getting to her. They said people did things they wouldn’t normally do during a heatwave. Olivia just wished she was the kind of girl who hid behind excuses when they did something stupid.

  ‘What’s wrong, Liv?’ he asked in a low, excruciatingly sensual rumble. ‘Not good at taking orders?’

  ‘Depends what they are,’ she replied in an equally low voice. And what they were doing at the time.

  Don’t go there, the profes
sional warned the woman.

  When a knowing smile began to form in his eyes, she frowned, swiftly getting back to business with, ‘I won’t do anything illegal.’

  ‘Unless I’m mistaken, a big part of your job would be to make sure I don’t.’

  ‘Whatever trouble you get into away from Warren Enterprises isn’t my concern.’

  ‘I’ll keep that in mind when I’m only allowed to make one phone call.’

  The man had no shame. Raised on a diet of discipline and obeying the letter of the law, Olivia had never considered herself the kind of woman who would be attracted to a bad boy but apparently she’d been wrong. Who knew?

  ‘I assume I can’t schedule any meetings north of the border.’ She analysed his reaction with a tilt of her head.

  ‘Probably best not,’ he replied without giving anything away.

  She sighed heavily. ‘Is this how it’s going to be every time we try to have a discussion?’

  ‘That’s what we’re doing, is it?’

  She aimed a narrow-eyed glare at him.

  ‘So what’s it to be?’ he asked. ‘We got a deal?’

  ‘I’m not going to come running when you holler.’

  ‘Where’s the fun in that?’

  ‘I think you’ll find it would be more fun for one of us than it would for the other.’ Inwardly groaning at the fact she was encouraging him, she moved on to the next point. ‘I have no problem working outside office hours, but you can’t call me in the middle of the night.’ Her errant gaze dipped to his tempting lower lip. ‘There are boundaries I’m not willing to cross.’

  ‘Like never mix business with pleasure—you have a rule on that, right?’

  As it happened, yes, she did. Olivia liked rules. It was part of the reason she loved the law so much. A single set of rules for everyone to follow, there for the protection of all. It was an even playing field and she was less likely to mess up as badly as she had before if she worked within the boundary lines.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied.

  ‘Why am I not surprised?’ He shook his head. ‘But you’re still not getting it. I’m not questioning your capabilities. If they sent you to deal with this, I’m sure you’re up to the task.’

  Then what—?

  ‘But here’s how it’s gonna be, sweetheart. The only advice you get to give me is law-related—you don’t question my decisions unless it’s something that might get me prosecuted, sued, or both—and there’s no First Amendment for free speech in this arrangement. We clear on that?’

  Olivia blinked in surprise as the woman inside her purred like a cream-filled cat. Suddenly she understood why Charles Warren had chosen him as his heir. He didn’t sound like a man who didn’t want the responsibility of the legacy that had been left to him; he sounded like a man taking charge and more than up to the task.

  It was exactly how Jo had described him: sexy as sin.

  Who was this man? Tilting her head, she looked at him more closely. Her curious gaze whispered over his face, taking in every detail from the crease lines at the corners of his dark eyes that suggested he laughed more often than she’d had evidence of thus far to the small scar on his chin her fingertips itched to touch while she asked how he’d got it.

  ‘Liv—’ his deep voice held what sounded like an edge of warning, forcing her gaze back up ‘—we clear?’

  Right. Negotiations. Focus.

  ‘No middle of the night phone calls,’ she insisted.

  She could do the maths. Her dreams of late plus that voice on the other end of a phone line multiplied by the never-ending heatwave they’d been experiencing equalled the road to insanity.

  ‘Not unless it’s something I need an answer to right away,’ he allowed.

  ‘You holler expecting me to come running, I’ll tell you to go to hell.’

  ‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

  Olivia nodded firmly. ‘Then we’re clear.’

  ‘Good. I want to go through personal assets first. Can you handle that area?’

  She nodded again.

  ‘We’ll start looking at the properties on the list you brought me tomorrow.’

  Another nod, then, without warning, the tip of his thumb brushed back a strand of hair from her neck, the light graze of work-roughened skin sending a sharp jolt through her body that tightened her abdomen.

  ‘Now that’s settled,’ he said in a seductively rough rumble as the backs of his fingers trailed lazily over the sensitive skin below her ear, ‘I think we should discuss your rule…’

  What rule? She had a rule?

  Blake watched the movement of his fingers, his head lowering. ‘How set in stone would you say that is?’

  Oh, this was bad. This was really bad.

  It felt good.

  Breathing ragged, pulse erratic, her heart threatening to beat a hole in her chest, Olivia felt the hand on the wall slide to her waist. The fingers on her neck moved to her nape as his gaze focused intently on her mouth.

  ‘Blake…’ Her voice was thick, the unspoken plea caught somewhere between stop and don’t stop.

  The tip of his thumb brushed against her jaw as his gaze lifted to search her eyes and a slow smile began to form on the sensual curve of his mouth. ‘That’s a step in the right direction.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘My name. It’s the first time you’ve used it.’

  It was?

  ‘Say it again,’ he demanded, his smile growing. ‘Practice makes perfect.’

  The sparkle of amusement in his eyes snapped her to her senses. What was she doing? He wasn’t caught up in the moment the way she was. He knew exactly what he was doing. Worse still, he knew what it was doing to her.

  Never in all her born days had she been more tempted to play the tease and hand out a little payback. But since she was pretty sure playing up to him would give him exactly what he wanted…

  As if the wall would magically move and place some distance between them if she just pushed hard enough, Olivia leaned back and fought through the fog of residual desire and a rapidly descending red mist to form a lightning-fast list of defensive moves she could use without causing any lasting damage. It didn’t matter that he was bigger and stronger than she was—she’d been trained for that. Step one: verbal warning.

  She opened her mouth and sucked in a sharp breath.

  ‘Hey, Anders, we’re going to the deli,’ a voice called, making her aware the music had stopped. ‘You coming?’

  ‘Did I mention I owe you one for my new call sign?’ He stepped back and responded with, ‘Right behind you.’

  Olivia frowned as she exhaled. He couldn’t leave. They weren’t done yet.

  ‘We’ll pick this up in the morning—nine a.m.—first place on your list.’ To her complete astonishment and immeasurable irritation, he flashed a grin that knocked her on her ear. He even had the unmitigated gall to add a wink before telling her, ‘I’ll bring my own coffee.’

  There. Weren’t. Words.

  Olivia followed him through the door and down the hall. ‘Mr Clayton—’

  ‘We’re back to Mr Clayton again?’

  ‘This is a professional relationship, nothing more.’

  ‘Don’t remember agreeing to that.’

  ‘As I said, there are lines I won’t cross.’

  ‘Lack of adventure noted.’

  ‘It’s got nothing to do with a lack of adventure.’ She followed him down the first flight of stairs. ‘You seem to be under the impression—’

  ‘That you’re attracted to me?’

  ‘I am not—’ Her breath caught when he turned without warning and she found herself looking directly into his eyes again, up close and personal.

  How did that keep happening?

  Placing large hands on lean hips, he nodded firmly. ‘Add lying to me to the list: don’t do it.’

  ‘I wasn’t—’

  ‘Yes, you were.’

  Well, yes, she was, but he couldn’t know that. What part of dealing with
a lawyer hadn’t he got? Did he think she couldn’t look into his sensationally dark, fathomless eyes and conceal what she wanted? How did he think lawyers negotiated with other lawyers?

  She lifted her chin. ‘You’re not the first difficult client I’ve worked with, Mr Clayton.’

  ‘Blake. And worked for…’

  The question slipped out before she could stop it. ‘Does this tactic work for you with women?’

  ‘This one isn’t?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You sure about that?’

  Oh, he was annoying.

  The corners of his mouth twitched with barely suppressed amusement as he dropped his hands to his sides. ‘You want something to eat before you head back?’

  ‘No.’ She faltered, remembering the manners drummed into her from an early age. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Then I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He flashed another grin as he turned away. ‘Try not to miss me too much.’

  Olivia shook her head as he jogged down the second flight of stairs. The man was unbelievable. But if he thought he had the upper hand, he was mistaken. She could maintain her professional decorum under trying circumstances. No way was she screwing up two careers inside a decade. Henceforth, she was enacting a strictly at arm’s length policy. No encouraging him through verbal engagement, no rising to the bait—even if she had to bite her damn tongue off—and if he ever got close enough to do the whole addle-her-senses thing he was so good at…

  Yeah, she really couldn’t let that happen again.

  Continuing down the stairs, she allowed herself a brief foray into fantasy where she could hand out a little quid pro quo. In that universe she would have the same effect on him as he had on her. She would play on it, winding him tight, getting him so hot and hard for her, he’d beg—

  She took a deep breath and blew it out with puffed cheeks. Since that train of thought wasn’t helping any, she started looking for loopholes in his stupid rules as she made her way back to the office. Women like her didn’t have hot, steamy casual sex with men like him—even if they were tempted.