Mine (12 page)

I never understood sexual chemistry.

Not truly.

But I sure got a taste of it when the San Francisco real estate mogul Micah Holt walked into our rectangular third-floor meeting room at Richardson Real Estate. Located in Union Square above an art gallery, our office needed a renovation to fix the white paint peeling around the window frames, the worn hardwood floors, and the stale smell that never went away.

Today, with Micah in attendance, the office seemed even more outdated.

Enigmatic and gorgeous, Micah looked more like a fitness model than a businessman. He had stylish, short jet-black hair, a crooked nose giving him a bit of character, defined cheekbones highlighting the hard lines of his face, and an athletic squared jaw. The black tailored suit covering his six-foot-two, strong, solid body seemed to scream
rip me off!

I sat next to my assistant, Liv Sloan, on the left side of the conference table, unable to take my eyes off him. He stood silently by the floor-to-ceiling windows, exuding authority and lust, while the rest of the Richardson staff assembled for the surprise Monday morning meeting.

God,
I could only imagine the feeling of having his immense power flowing sensually over me. I knew my reaction was physical, not logical. It didn't matter. I wanted to fuck him.

When my ogling caught his attention, he glanced over his shoulder, his bluish gray eyes burning into mine, holding me captive. Heat trickled through my veins, lingering low in my body, daring me to go after him. He carried a self-assurance that I'd never seen before in a thirty-five-year-old man. Yet somehow the strength he projected seemed haunted—tainted, somehow. Untouchable, even.

But maybe I was searching for a flaw in a man who appeared to lack one. Whatever special
thing
men had that called to women,
this
man had it in spades.

When his eyes finally moved elsewhere, he scanned the faces around him and never really connected with anyone. I thought that said a lot about his arrogance, but by the sudden yearning for his attention to return to me, I realized I liked his particular type of arrogance.

“What's this about?” Liv asked, breaking into my thoughts.

I turned in my swivel chair, finding Liv's curious, big brown eyes on me. She had an air of innocence about her—dark, bouncy brown curls resting on her shoulders, and a natural pinkish hue across her cheeks. “Got me.” We'd only found out about the meeting a few minutes ago. “But I'm guessing since the big shot, Micah Holt, is here it can't be good news.”

Everyone in San Francisco knew the name of billionaire Micah Holt. He was CEO of one of the top five real estate companies in North America, Holt Enterprises, and on the board of many businesses in San Francisco.

Liv nodded in agreement with me, then added, “Big shot or not, that man oozes sex.”

“Of course he does.” I scrunched my nose, attempting to look unimpressed by him. “He's an expert at making women fawn all over him.”

Liv discreetly raised her hand, her eyes twinkling. “Sign me up! I'd fawn all over his sexy ass.”

I laughed quietly. A couple months ago, Liv had broken up with someone and had been single ever since. She had a fondness for bad boys who drove motorcycles. Me? My last breakup that ended with a competing real estate agent, Matthew Granger, meeting someone new—who he married two months later—was the final kicker to many relationships that went nowhere.

I was a proud hopeless romantic. I wanted that
spark
declaring a man was
mine
and I was
his
, though the fairy tale seemed to belong to everyone else and never me. Instead of accepting that true love only happened in the movies, I'd sworn off relationships, focusing entirely on my career.

It might not be the ideal situation for a twenty-five-year-old, but I'd never been happier. I liked not thinking about a man all the time, not worrying over someone else, or giving a shit if I said or did the wrong thing.

I liked freedom, I supposed.

“Thank you for clearing your schedules,” said my boss, Henry Richardson, drawing my focus to the head of the meeting-room table.

In the presence of Micah, Henry looked aged. His eyes were a soft brown, and he was a bit on the short side. He drank too much, leaving him with a wrinkly face, and ate more than he could burn off. He also meant the world to me.

Shortly after my fifteenth birthday, my parents died in a plane crash. Life changed a lot back then. But when I started working for Henry four years ago, he had become a replacement father to me. At least, that's how our relationship felt. I looked up to him. I measured every man against him. And I treasured having him in my life.

Henry continued. “I have some news that I hope you'll see as a positive for our company.”
Our company.
My heart warmed, as that one line spoke of Henry's high regard for his employees. “As you all know, my retirement is long overdue.”

Heavy silence and palpable disappointment carried into the meeting room like a thick cloud of poison rendering us incapacitated. Except for Micah, who stuffed his hands into his pockets and gazed out the window.

Suddenly, I found a flaw.

A big one.

Henry added, “I've decided to make today my last day and to merge our company with Holt Enterprises.”

People stirred around me, and I agreed with their disappointment. But my concern had nothing to do with job security—I could not lose Henry. Worry and panic tripped my heart, sending me into a frenzy of a thousand
what will happen now?
thoughts.

Henry's gentle stare fixed on me, his voice softened. “I know this comes as a shock, but when it's time to leave, it's time to leave.” He turned toward the suit at the window. “Micah? Anything to add?”

I could almost hear the feminine sighs of appreciation as Micah stepped toward the table. I hated myself for being one of them. What a sucker I was; I'd totally fallen for the charm that he dished out to everyone.

“Thank you, Henry,” said Micah, before addressing the rest of us. “I'm aware how important Richardson is to you all.” He planted on a cold, fake smile. “We at Holt are excited about this merger. You've got a good start here.”

First, he pushes Henry out of his company. Second, he insults it. “A good start.” I snorted.

Micah's eyes shifted to me, amused. “Something to add?”

I knew Micah's type.
Hell,
I'd grown up surrounded by spoiled men who cared more about the bottom line than how they affected people. My older brother of ten years, who raised me after my parents' death, had given me a privileged life. He also taught me the art of showing strength in the face of rich and powerful men.
Never lower your gaze,
he once told me. “Nope, nothing to add at the moment.”

“Please don't stop on my account.” The side of Micah's mouth curved, a telling sign that he enjoyed my challenge. “I'd like to hear more of what you were saying.”

“Oh, look!” Liv whispered under her breath. “Your big mouth has gotten you in trouble
again
.”

I often landed myself in the hot seat, a place I'd become quite comfortable in. I also knew Micah's techniques. While he seemed genuinely entertained by me, calling me out was a way of showing everyone in this room that he owned the space. “Please continue, Mr. Holt.” I smiled at him, hoping my chilly smile out-faked his. “I'm excited to hear what your plans are for our ‘good start' of a company.”

Henry gaped at me.

Liv snickered into her hand.

I stared at Micah as intently as I could, watching his shoulders stiffen. Sure, on my end of things there was a sexual attraction making my panties nearly burst into flames, but I had a bad feeling that Henry's retirement wasn't by choice, and
that
made Micah my number-one enemy.

I watched him draw in a deep breath, shifting his strong shoulders almost imperceptibly. A line formed between his brows, and to me, it seemed like he was sizing me up. I refused to back down. Most women would, I guessed, but he couldn't rattle me. I would never allow some overconfident guy to take away everything Henry had built.

Richardson might not be much in size—we had only twenty employees—but we were a family and our clients were loyal. I doubted Micah had a loyal bone in his body. Men didn't rise to power, as Micah had, without stepping on toes to get there. I knew this, because I'd seen my brother start out as a kind, loving young man and turn into a ruthless, heartless businessman.

Wealth could—and often did—ruin people.

That's why I hated money and the power it offered, and it's the very reason no one at Richardson—even Liv—knew how much money I had in my bank account, or that my brother was as well known in San Francisco as Micah.

One second passed.

Then another.

Micah's smile slowly became sexier. I could almost taste the intensity passing between us in the dry air. My traitorous body reacted to him, flushing with an unnatural heat.

His one brow lifted at me before he looked away, and addressed the group again. “As Henry departs from the company, there will be some changes. We'll do our best to make them as seamlessly as possible. That said, I'd like to introduce the CFO of Holt, Anderson West.” He gestured to a tall, clean-shaven man standing by the door, who was handsome in his own right, just not Micah handsome. His hair was dark with hints of silver on the sides, his eyes were a soft blue, and his oval face had gentle lines. “Anderson will be assisting in the transition. Starting today, some of you will join us at Holt. Others will remain at Richardson. But any changes will be to better both companies.” The smile that was as fake as the breasts of the co-worker sitting across the table from me returned. “I'm confident we'll take Richardson to the next level.”

Oh, hell no!
My fists clenched in my lap. Richardson didn't need to change. Our sales were sitting close to $2 million. While that wasn't much to celebrate by Micah's standards, for everyone else in the room those sales meant something.

Sometimes, a bigger company wasn't better.

It was just bigger.

Micah continued. “I would ask that you excuse yourselves now until we call you back into the room.”

As the crowd began to leave the meeting room, I rose from my seat and muttered to Liv, “Let's hope
he
stays at Holt. That smile was as cold as the chocolate ice cream I devoured last night.”

“Oh, please.” She grinned. “I don't mind looking at him one bit.”

I chuckled with her, pushing my chair under the table. The moment I stepped away to interrogate my boss about this so-called
retirement
business, Micah called, “Allie. One minute.”

My heart dropped into my stomach as I turned, finding Micah staring at me with a different smile now. I wouldn't call it friendly. That smile belonged on a predator who'd marked me as his prey.

Allie wasn't a model, or an heiress, or a celebrity, but I wanted her beneath me, touched by me, owned by me. She was understated, wearing a white silk blouse and modest black skirt that didn't flatter her body. But nothing an Atelier Versace dress, Manolo heels, and pearls couldn't fix. She had a round face with only light makeup; her cheekbones were highlighted with rosy blush, and her light pink lips were alluringly pouty. Her stunningly crystal clear blue eyes had caught my attention first, as did her long straight chocolate-brown hair flowing over her shoulders, though I also noticed small hints of cleavage through her blouse. My groin tightened against the surge of attraction overcoming me, as her glare met my gaze.

That's what I liked right there.

The fight.

I stayed beside Anderson, watching Henry approach Allie. He dropped a hand on her shoulder, saying to her, “I can always count on you to piss someone off, kid.”

She gave him a sweet smile. “Don't go far. We need to talk.”

“I wouldn't have expected otherwise” was Henry's dry reply.

I noted the pride in Henry's eyes and the love in Allie's smile. An odd sort of hot jealousy blazed through me. That type of affection was pure and honest. And I'd never experienced such love in my life.

As Henry left the office, Anderson gestured at Allie, and I motioned for him to leave, too. He smiled, thoroughly amused by her, I assumed, before shutting the door behind him.

I stayed intent on the woman spiking my curiosity and awakening my cock. “Please sit,” I said, pulling the chair out for her.

She approached, never lowering her glare. Only when she took her seat did she look away, and her scent, a mixture of baby powder and flowers, spiraled around me. I stood behind her, noticing my affect on her as her knuckles went white on top of the table.
Good,
because she affected me, too.

Determined to learn more about this woman, I opened my suit jacket and moved to sit next to her. “Tell me about who you are at Richardson.”

“I'm the top-selling agent,” she said without a trace of arrogance.

I respected her honesty. Modesty wasn't my way either. My father, Samuel Holt, had raised me to be proud of my accomplishments. I didn't love the man. I didn't even like him when I buried him two years ago. But I respected his cutthroat style of business. “What were your sales last year?”

“Close to a million,” she stated.

Not bad, I thought. The majority of the sales must have come from her. I could see why she was a good real estate agent—she had a light within her, something that inspired trust and radiated warmth. “Now then, call me curious—how have I insulted you?”

“Because you walked into our company and belittled what Henry built.” The fire in her eyes captivated me, calling for me to see her burn deeper from my touch, my lips, my cock, every damn part of me. With the same clipped voice, she added, “Richardson is a great company. It doesn't need to change. Loyalty can't be bought.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Yes, sweetheart, it can.”

“So you say.” She folded her arms, and I noted how the move gave her more cleavage. I enjoyed the thought of kissing the soft flesh, as she harshly added, “I suggest you work on your people skills. Insulting employees who have worked hard for a company won't make you a winning star.”

“I don't need to try to be a winning star.” I let
I am the winning star
sit unsaid between us.

She clearly caught my intention and snorted. “Good for you. Congratulations.”

I wasn't sure if I should laugh or be insulted that she was the one woman in a very long time that had shown me anything but adoration. I liked that she put me in my place and called me out for insulting Henry's company, even if what I had said was nothing but the truth. Her strength made her a worthy challenger.

The smile I let slip apparently annoyed her, since her brows furrowed. “Since we're doing a Q&A, call me curious.” I liked how she used my own words back at me. “Did you force Henry out?”

Beautiful, smart, and quick—she was certainly holding my attention. But the sudden hatred in her eyes surprised me. Before the meeting, Henry had warned me that Allie would not take this news lightly. I hadn't anticipated that her rage would be directed at me. Nor did I like it. “Henry's retirement was in the best interests of both companies. I didn't force him out. He agreed to leave.” As her lips parted to no doubt unleash hell on me, I continued before she could. “I have no intention of closing Richardson or seeing its failure. We are looking to expand the residential department in Holt, and I plan to keep Richardson as is, staying as a separate company, so we can learn from what you've accomplished here.”

“Good. I'm glad to hear it.” She rose from her seat. “Are we done?”

I leaned back in my chair, completely taken by her. Men wanted to be me. Women wanted to have me. This little five-foot-five woman stood there glaring at me, determined to knock me down with a single punch. In my fucked-up mind, her refusal and outright hatred of me brought hunger.

She offered me a game; one I'd played many times over. A battle of wills, where two strong personalities fought for control. That game not only fed my ego, but it gave me a story to feed to the tabloids, giving the appearance I had a girlfriend. A necessary front to keep the truth locked away that under strict confidentially agreements, I partook in kink and enjoyed well-trained submissives who catered to my unusual sexual demands.

It'd been a couple months since my last public girlfriend. I needed to give the tabloids a new story. If I didn't, they'd start digging deeper into my personal life. That could never happen. The secrets I held could ruin my high-profile public image.

“Do you plan on answering me?” She repeated her question: “Are we done?”

I grinned, sensing the burn rise up within me to win this fight. Soon she'd be in bed and screaming my name, instead of glaring at me. “For
now,
yes.”

“For
ever,
believe me.” She placed her hands flat on the table, and I saw her revulsion in the narrowing of her eyes, making my fingers twitch to grab her and show her that I couldn't be controlled. “If Henry leaves, then so do I. Consider this my resignation. Do you want two weeks' notice, or can I leave now?”

My dick jerked in my pants. I knew why. It came from the desire to dominate. I yearned to prove to this woman that my power could render her mine, if I so chose it. “You can leave whenever you want. No one is keeping you here.”

“Great,” she growled, her eyes dark with rage. “Now works for me.”

I watched her ass sway in her skirt as she exited the room, leaving me with an achy cock and a smile on my face. She might be pissed because Henry was retiring and thought I was responsible, but our exchange brought me more amusement than I had in months.

Only a moment passed before Anderson filled the doorway, muttering, “Someone quit already? I think that's a record.” In his early forties, Anderson ran marathons in his free time. He had a lovely wife and two teenage children. We were as different as two men could get, but I respected and trusted Anderson.

I rose from my chair. “Get Allie into Holt.”

“Of course, you pick the one that's going to be the most difficult.” Anderson entered the office and stopped by the side of the table, a deep frown creasing his mouth. “What if I can't change her mind?”

I moved to the window and stared out at the back of another building, only making me appreciate the spectacular view I had at Holt. One of the first things I'd recommend to happen here at Richardson was that the company move to a nicer location. Clients deserved better.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets and pondered. On the one hand, I found myself oddly drawn to her and curious about all the warmth I saw radiating out of her smile. On the other hand, I enjoyed the power struggle, because I needed the high when she finally stopped fighting the attraction that we both knew was there and surrendered her body to me.

I would come out on top, as I did in all aspects of my life.

To do that with Allie, I needed some time.

I turned to Anderson. “Make her an offer she can't refuse.”