Animal Instincts (8 page)

At the front desk, I faced down Royce’s assistant. Ms. Carroll, aka Bride of Satan. Elvira’s dark brown eyes clawed me like talons, all the more menacing in light of that vampiric complexion.

“I need to see Mr. Powell,” I told her, using my most competent tone.

Matte gold lips twisted in feigned affability. “Do you have an actual appointment this time?”

“Yes.”

“Well, what do you know?” She smoothed a hand over her perfect hair. “Once again your name isn’t on his agenda. Would you care to explain this phenomenon?”

Not again! Why hadn’t Royce told her I was expected?

“If you’ll let Royce know I’m here,” I said, each syllable crisper than the last, “I’m sure he’ll be happy to explain this ‘phenomenon.’”

“Royce, hmm?” She stood, fingers splayed wide across her desk. “When did you two become so close? Or are you his flavor of the week and I just didn’t know it?”

Flavor of the week? I wanted to ask Elvira just how many women she’d seen come and go in Royce’s life. The more women, the more he would remind me of my ex. And my dad. And the less tempted I would be by him. I didn’t, though. Instead I said, “Just tell him I’m here. Please.”

“Go to hell.”

My inner Tigress crouched into attack position and I found myself saying, “I have a question for you.” I placed my hands on the desk and inched forward. Eye to eye. “Are you jealous because you’re three hundred years too old for him or are you simply a spiteful woman?”

“How dare you?” She gasped, my words having pushed her over the edge of tolerance. “I’ll have you know I’ve worked here for six years. You’ll be gone soon. Your kind always is. But I’ll always be around.”

“My kind? Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Cheap. Easy. And completely forgettable.”

Now my Tigress spread her claws and growled low in her throat. I ran my tongue over my teeth and leaned
even closer to Elvira. “You actually think he likes your type better? Cold. Evil. And leader of the undead.”

“Why you little bitch.” Her teeth bared, she flew around the desk, meaning to launch herself on top of me.

I fisted my hands, waiting, readying to strike.

“That’s enough, Ms. Carroll,” a male voice suddenly boomed.

Elvira stilled abruptly. She blinked, collecting her wits—if she had any, that is. Her pale complexion turned ashy as she backtracked to her desk. I whipped around.

A handsome man in his early thirties faced me. The rich baritone of his voice held an edge of unmistakable steel. With jeans that hugged his hips and a too-tight white T-shirt, he looked rugged and completely out of place in the formal office setting.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Phillips,” Elvira said.

Phillips…the name was familiar to me. Wait, wasn’t he the one Royce had spoken to on the phone the first day I’d come in? They’d discussed some sort of merger.

Mr. Phillips gave her a look that clearly said, “I’ll deal with you later,” then turned his attention to me. I applauded anyone who could intimidate the indomitable assistant.

“No need for you to have interfered,” I told him. “I had the situation under control. Ms. Carroll wouldn’t have hurt me.”

“It wasn’t
your
life I feared for,” he muttered, glancing from Elvira to me. “On behalf of the staff here, I’d like to apologize for what just happened. I
promise you, we do not usually act so unprofessionally or physically threaten our guests.” His tone became scolding.

Lately I’d been the queen of unprofessional. Elvira had nothing on me.

“Come on.” He placed a hand on my lower back and led me to a secluded corner. His gaze raked over me before settling on my lips. I was used to being sized up by businessmen, but I wasn’t used to all this blatant attention to my mouth. Most people tried to be discreet.

He grinned slowly, causing his green eyes to crinkle at the corners.

In appearance, his appeal rivaled Royce’s. He possessed the same strength, the same inner power, except for some reason this man didn’t have any effect on my senses. Why? I mused. Why was that? How could my testosterone immunity be vanquished to the point that I wanted Royce (desperately) but not this equally handsome man? It made no sense.

He held out his hand and we shook, and I was glad to notice I wasn’t swampy today. Nor did I experience the electric shock I received every time Royce touched me. “Colin Phillips,” he said.

“Naomi Delacroix.”

“I know. You’re the one driving the big guy crazy.” His smile became sheepish, revealing even, white teeth. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person.”

When he didn’t seem inclined to let go of my hand, I gently extracted it from his grasp. “I’m not driving anyone crazy who wasn’t already insane.”

Colin tilted his chin to the side as he considered my words, amusement in his gaze. He nodded. “Good point.” His gaze raked over me once more. “I can see what’s had Royce so wrapped up for so long. You’ve got a classic charm.”

My ears perked at that. Not at the compliment, though that was nice. “Wrapped up for so long? How long? Wrapped up in what way?”

He ignored my questions. “I apologize again for Ms. Carroll’s rudeness. I’ll personally make sure she’s let go.”

In all honesty, I would have loved to see that bitch punished. However, as much as I hated to admit it, the woman had bills to pay just like I did. I couldn’t be responsible for putting another human being in the poorhouse—which begged the question: was she even human? No matter. “It’s fine. Really.
I’m
fine.”

He chuckled, a warm, rich sound. “Were the situation reversed, she would demand your head on a pike. You realize that, don’t you?”

“Actually, I think she’d demand my limbs removed one by one while she watched, but hey, you know her better than I do.”

He pressed his lips together to smother another laugh. “I’m sure you don’t recall, but we’ve met—no,
met
isn’t the right word. We’ve been in the same room together. Before today.”

A complete switch of topics, but I could handle it. I flipped through my mental files and drew a blank.

He must have read the confusion in my eyes
because he added, “About six months ago. You planned my sister’s wedding reception.”

“The Phillips-Howard wedding, right?” There, that was much better than saying,
I don’t remember seeing you. Ever.
The reception had been the very first event I’d planned on my own, as a business owner. I remembered seeing Royce there, the first time I’d laid eyes on him in person. I’d been newly divorced and my gaze had eaten him up. Many times. He’d been as sexy then as he was now, and I hadn’t been immune. But this man… I honestly didn’t recall seeing him.

“Yes,” he said. “That’s the one.”

“How is she?” I asked. “Your sister, I mean.” Over the past few months, Daisy Phillips—Daisy Howard, I guess she is now—had sent several other clients my way. I was beyond grateful. Hell, I was grateful she’d hired me in the first place. I was an unknown but she’d heard me talking to Kera at Cinderella Catering, had (thankfully) liked what she’d heard and asked me to put a list of ideas together. I did and she signed me on. One of the best days of my life.

“Blissful,” he said. “She just found out she’s pregnant.”

A little pang swept through my chest, but I tamped it down. Once, I’d wanted children. “That’s wonderful. Tell her congratulations for me.”

“I’ll do that.” With barely a breath, he added, “Is there something I can help you with, or do you need to see Royce?”

“Royce, I’m afraid. I’m helping with his mother’s birthday party.” Then, realizing what I’d just
admitted, I clamped my lips tight. The party was supposed to be a surprise. Had I just blown it?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Don’t worry,” Colin said, catching my distress. “I’m on the guest list.”

My dismay faded and I grinned. “Thank God.”

“Daisy
still
talks about how wonderful you are. So does Royce, for that matter,” he muttered.

I blinked. “What was that?”

“Daisy. She sings your praises all the time.”

Had he or had he not just said Royce talked about how wonderful I was? I hadn’t thought Royce noticed me that night. Not the way a man notices a woman he wants to bed, that is. He sure hadn’t acted like it that first day in his office. Yes, he had called me a few times after the reception, but that had been strictly business. Hadn’t it?

My chest constricted with…hope? Fear? “You said something else,” I insisted. “Something about Royce.”

He shook his head. “No, I didn’t.”

Yes, he had, but I decided to let it slide. I didn’t know if I truly wanted to hear the answer.

Perhaps I’d set Mel up with Colin. He seemed nice enough, and she’d go wild for his non-lazy eyes. I thought Kera was more his type, but she was now interested in her neighbor.

Just then, a hard, uncompromising form came up behind me. Two hands anchored on top of my shoulders. I didn’t need to see who it was to know. I
felt
who it was, experiencing warm, electrical currents through my entire body.

Royce.

My clothes and skin soaked up the delicious heat of him, the erotic scent of him.

“I said ten minutes, Naomi. Not eleven. Not twelve. You’re late.” He didn’t wait for a reply, just sailed past me and inside his office, forcing me to follow.

“Please tell Daisy I said thank you for all her praise and recommendations,” I told Colin over my shoulder. What was wrong with Royce? I didn’t understand that man. Not even a little bit. “That means a lot to me.”

“You bet,” Colin said.

With that, I nodded goodbye, pasted a professional smile on my face and curbed the urge to flip Elvira off as I skipped past her astonished face.

S
HAKING WITH THE FORCE
of my sudden nervousness, I slowed my pace as I entered Royce’s office. Why was I nervous? I thought in the next instant. The man was, well, a man. He wasn’t God (as he’d reminded me himself yesterday) or even a superhero. Unless he rescued small children from burning buildings and I just didn’t know it. With his Triple C attitude, though, that was highly unlikely. However, I could easily picture him ordering said children to jump out a window, landing mat optional.

Anyway, he didn’t decide the fate of my world.

He stood at the bar. Not a flicker of emotion crossed his features as he said, “Have a seat.” His tone was stiff. With a wave of his hand, he indicated a chair. Even his motions were stiff.

Watching him warily, I smoothed my skirt and eased down.

He shifted from one foot to the other (stiffly), then poured himself a drink (even more stiffly), downed it (still more stiffly). Poured two more. “Would you care for anything?” Yep, stiff.

“No, thanks.” The slightest bit of alcohol always went straight to my head. Probably because of my “delicate bone structure,” as my mom would say. Or, as my stepdad would say, because of my “horrendous eating disorder.”

“I’ll drink yours, then.” He gulped back both drinks, slammed the glasses on the bar and bowed his head. He stayed that way, silent, unmoving, for a long while.

“Next time, please tell your assistant I’m expected,” I said, just to cut through the tension. I tried for a professional tone, rather than censuring.

“I told her
this
time,” he replied, confused. Still stiff, though.

My eyes narrowed. That bitch! She’d lied to me about not being on the precious list. I should have told Colin to go ahead and fire her.

“I didn’t mean to shout at you,” Royce said, finally, blessedly relaxing. He sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly. “I…apologize.”

The apology sounded strained, a bit forced, but I didn’t care. I was surprised he’d even made the effort.
Disciples of evil that they were, most men wouldn’t have. “Apology accepted.”

He pivoted on his heel and stalked to his desk, where he sat on the corner, his gaze locking with mine. I shifted in my seat. His expression was curiously blank, as if masking an emotion he didn’t want me to see. Anger? Disinterest? Irritation?

“What do you think of Colin?” he asked mildly. “The man you were flirting with outside my office.”

Forget anger, disinterest and irritation. The man was positively livid with jealousy. Jealousy. About me. His eyes blazed with it, the blue irises resembling vivid sapphires. I shook my head in amazement, feeling just a little giddy.

No, not giddy, I told myself sternly. I was angry. Definitely angry. I forced myself to frown as I crossed my legs and folded my arms together. “I wasn’t flirting.” Did I sound properly offended he’d imply such a thing? “And just so you know, he seems very pleasant.”

“Pleasant?” Royce growled. “What does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. Pleasant.”

“Pleasant agreeable or pleasant I want to go on a date with this man?”

“What does it matter?”

“Answer the damn question.”

“I did.”
Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh. You’re pissed, remember?
“I said he was pleasant and that’s what I meant.”

Royce clenched the edge of his desk and his knuckles turned white. “What. Kind. Of. Pleasant? You should know, the man likes women and lots of them.”

“That makes him better suited for me than you.” My traitorous lips twitched at the corners. This situation called for fury, damn it. I mean, how dare he question me about my intentions toward another man. Royce and I had kissed once. That didn’t give him exclusive rights to me.

I still wanted to smile.

“He’s never been in a lasting relationship.”

“Good for him.” I paused, savoring my next words. “I liked him.”

“You liked him?” The words left his mouth with so much force I almost flew backward.

“Yes. He was nice. And pleasant.”

For a moment, I thought I saw Royce’s eyes glow bright red, thought I saw steam coming from his nostrils. Then he scrubbed a hand down his face. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Listen,” I said, determined to stop this line of conversation before I started dancing on his desktop. Maybe stripping. “I’m not interested in dating him. Really. But I’m not interested in dating you, either, remember?”

His hands dropped to his side and he frowned. “Why not?”

“We went over this yesterday. You’re just not my type, okay?” God, I was such a liar. Lately I lied to everyone. My cousins, Royce. Myself.

“I’m honest, honorable and not looking to simply get laid. When I kiss you, you burn up. What part of that is not your type?”

Yes, Naomi, do tell us the answer to that,
my hormones
piped in. “There’s one quality you didn’t mention, and it immediately throws you out of the running.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, tightening the fabric of his jacket over his biceps. “And what’s that?”

“You have a penis,” I said, squirming in my seat. Just saying the word in front of him made me hot.

“A penis? Baby, that’s something you should be thanking me for.”

Typical male response.

He worried two fingers over his jaw. Yet, even with the movement, there was something so…still about him. “Is this your way of giving me the brush-off?”

“I’m not trying to throw you over for Colin, if that’s what you mean. If I was attracted to him, I could have asked him out months ago at his sister’s wedding reception.” Which I still didn’t recall seeing him at. “You attended that party, too, by the way.”

He lost his air of irritation and his expression became guarded again.

“Don’t worry if you can’t remember seeing me there.” Bastard. “You were too busy helping your—” whore “—date put the tissue back in her bra.”

He almost choked at that bit of information. When he stopped coughing, he said, “I remember you,” surprising me.

As if. “You don’t have to pretend. It won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t remember me.”

“Ha! Seriously, work on the lying. You suck at it. I remember you, okay?”

My gaze slitted up at him, narrowing my field of vision to him. Only him. “Prove it.”

“Okay.” His expression darkened in challenge. “You had the saddest eyes I’d ever seen with dark shadows under them. And you kept glancing at the door, as if you couldn’t wait to get away from the crowd. You were wearing a light green dress that hit just below your knees. Your hair was pulled back in the same twist you’re wearing today. You spent over an hour making sure all the kids were having fun, and you made sure every woman had a dance partner. Every woman but yourself.”

My mouth dropped open in shock and I think my heart skipped a beat. He
did
remember me. The knowledge was astonishing. Surreal. Almost more than I could take in. And so utterly wonderful I couldn’t quite catch my breath.

“I nearly approached you that day,” he said softly.

My eyes widened. He’d wanted to talk to me? Me? “Did you want to talk to me about…your mom’s party?”

“Please.” He crossed his ankles, the action casual, but the intense gleam in his eyes was anything but calm. “I wanted to talk to you just to hear your voice. I even took a step toward you, but you saw me coming and bolted.”

I gasped. “I did not bolt.”

“You did, too.” A deep, rumbling laugh escaped him. “I’ve replayed it in my mind a thousand times.”

Those words were familiar. He’d said them to me before…when he’d kissed me, that he’d imagined my lips a thousand times. I gulped. This conversation was having a strange effect on my equilibrium. Had I been standing, I would have collapsed to the floor.

If I wasn’t careful, I’d offer this man my life, my heart and my soul on a silver platter, room service available 24-7. He and his confession were
that
dangerous.

“Were you afraid of me?” he asked. “Is that why you ran?”

“I’m telling you, I did not run.”

“Whatever you say, Jackie Joyner,” he said, his singsong tone contradicting his words.

I stomped my foot, drawing on frustration and anger to distance myself. To strengthen my resolve.
Richard the Bastard had been sweet in the beginning, too, saying all the right things. Remember that.

Royce grinned slowly, smugly. “You want that drink now?”

“You obviously suffer from a severe brain disorder because your memory is warped. I did not run away from you.”

“Naomi Delacroix, afraid of me. Then. And now.” Features pensive, he tapped his chin with his finger. “I wonder why. Intense attraction? Unquenchable desire?”

If he only knew the truth of those words. I
had
run from him that night. There. I admit it. I’d seen him walking toward me—though I hadn’t thought he actually meant to talk to me—and everything inside me, everything I’d thought bludgeoned to death by Richard the Bastard, had sparked to instant life. Attraction, yes. Desire, most definitely. Both more intense than anything I’d ever known. My mouth had gone dry, my limbs had begun shaking. My blood
had heated, swimming through my veins and burning everything it touched.

I’d run. As fast as my feet would carry me.

I hadn’t been able to handle him then. Hell, I was barely handling him now. I didn’t want him to see me as a coward, though, therefore I would never, ever admit that I’d purposefully escaped him. Right now, I wanted this man to see me as a strong, capable woman who met her challenges head-on.

One day, that description might even be true.

“So, why did you want to see me today?”
Good. Bring it back to business.

He tilted his chin, silently acknowledging my abrupt change of subject. Half turning, he reached out and grabbed a small square item. He thrust it at me. “Here. This is yours.”

I gazed down at it, confused. “What is it?”

“A state-of-the-art BlueJay PDA. I almost bought you a Palm Pilot, but I decided to go this route instead. I’ll be able to call you and send you e-mail with it. Plus, I’ve taken the liberty of programming appointment times for us, and this will give you periodic reminders.” His eyes gleamed brightly. “You’ll never forget a meeting again.”

“How…sweet of you to get this for me.” Without giving it another glance, I stuffed the stupid thing in my briefcase—where it would most likely remain for the next few months. “Is that our only business today?”

“No.” Royce searched through the papers strewn across his desk and lifted a solitary sheet. I wondered
if I could sneak a peek at some of those applications/porn. Why I cared to see them, I didn’t know—okay, I hoped to incinerate them with my eyes. I leaned to the side…could almost see…

“This,” he said, turning back to me and holding the page out, “is a list of possible locations for the party.”

I straightened quickly and tried to appear innocent. I hadn’t seen a single application, damn it.

He smiled and rubbed a hand down his jaw. I couldn’t help but notice how clean-shaven it was. “I know how much you appreciate lists,” he said.

“Thank you.” I clasped the offered page, recalling I had something for him as well. With my free hand, I rooted through my briefcase. When I found what I was looking for, I slid it out. “Here’s my own list of locations, just as promised. We might have some of the same places marked.” I gave his list a once-over.

A startled gasp parted my lips. What the hell? “A cabin in Colorado?” I gazed up with wide eyes. “A resort in Maine? A cottage in Connecticut? But I only work in the Dallas area.”

He shrugged innocently. “My mother will only turn sixty once, and I want to celebrate right.”

“Surely you can find a place here. What about
your
home? Or Linda’s?” I asked, a desperate quality entering my voice.

“I’ll consider my place if the sites I have listed don’t pan out. We need to check them out ASAP.”

“Okay, well, I’ll make a few calls, search the Internet, and—”

“No, I believe in a personal touch. So we’ll visit them personally. Starting with the cabin in Colorado.”

“And just how do you plan to get us there?”
Don’t say we’ll fly. Don’t say we’ll fly.

“I’ll fly us, of course.”

“Of course.” My fingers curled around the arm of the chair, clenching so tightly my knuckles turned white. All color drained from my face. “What do you plan to fly us in?”
Don’t say airplane. Don’t say airplane.

“A Cessna Turbo 210,” he replied, a proud grin lighting his features. “It’s the Ferrari of small aircraft.”

“How—lovely.” I swallowed back bile.

Dread. Panic. Terror. All three blasted through me. I hated planes with a passion. Always had.

He caught my alarm, paused and studied me. “Is there a problem, Naomi?”

I felt a scream of fear lodge in the back of my throat but somehow managed to silence it. “Can’t you be content with one of the hotels I’ve mentioned?” My voice was weak, shaky.

“Don’t look so scared.” He reached out and squeezed my shoulder, his hand strong and hot and infinitely tender. “I’ve had my pilot’s license for years. I’ll get us there and back safely.”

“Why don’t you view the cabin alone?” I gulped. “You can take pictures while you’re there, maybe measure the dimensions. I’ll go over your notes and let you know if it will actually work.”

I didn’t add that the sites he’d listed would be suitable over my cold, dead body. The only location I would approve was in Dallas.

“I don’t think so.” He went behind his desk and eased into his seat, a satisfied glint in his sexy blue eyes. He looked as calm and relaxed as a man who’d just finished a vigorous bout of lovemaking. Destroying my sense of safety must make for a real orgasmic moment.

“You have to go with me, sweetheart,” he said. “What if I forget something?”

I straightened hopefully. “I’ll make you a list of the things you need to do. That way, you won’t forget anything.”

“There’s no need for a list. Not when I have you.”

“I see.”

“No, you don’t, but I’m not going to explain it at the moment.”