The Millionaire Meets His Match Read online

  She really should’ve quit yesterday.

  Adam ignored the now-familiar tightness pulling at his groin and sat down behind the heavy mahogany desk. By now, he should’ve been used to this ridiculous lust and the physical manifestation it produced in him every time he walked into the office and feasted his eyes on the deliciously curvaceous Trish James.

  Physical manifestation? He rolled his eyes in disgust. Why not call it a hard-on and be done with it? But hey, wouldn’t his brothers be proud that he was using his words?

  Despite the physical…whatever, Adam had to admit he got a kick out of seeing Trish every morning. She was adorable without even trying to be, and it was easy and fun to spook her. You’d think she was up to no good, the way she startled so easily.

  His chuckle got lost somewhere in his chest as he watched her plant herself in the chair opposite him and cross her legs. She was wearing a dress today and it was just as he’d suspected: her legs were world class. Smooth, shapely and lightly tanned, they were accentuated by three-inch heels that made Adam wish they were all she was wearing. He would start at her ankles, kissing and licking his way up to-

  “Before we go over my notes,” Trish began, “there’s a letter you should probably read.” She pulled a piece of correspondence from his inbox and handed it to him. “It looks important.”

  Adam raised his eyebrows when he saw the law firm letterhead and was scowling by the time he finished reading the contents.

  He grabbed the phone and hit the speed-dial number of the contractor on-site at Fantasy Mountain. Holding up one finger to let Trish know this wouldn’t take long, he waited for his call to be put through. He and his brothers hired Bob Paxton Construction for all their projects because Bob was simply the best in the business. And the Duke brothers only worked with the best.

  Ten minutes later, Adam hung up the phone.

  “I take it the news is bad?” Trish asked.

  He glanced over, noticed her look of concern and realized that he was grateful she was so in tune with him and his business. It felt good to have someone on his side. Almost instantly, he brushed that odd feeling away and stood to pace.

  “Yeah, it’s bad news,” he said, walking across the room to the coffeepot. He poured himself a cup and held the pot out to Trish.

  “No, thanks,” she said, still wearing that look of consternation. “Did someone get hurt at Fantasy Mountain?”

  “No,” Adam said immediately. “You read the letter, right?”

  “Yes,” she said, making a face. “But the legalese made my eyes cross.”

  “I know what you mean.” Adam chuckled and sat back down at his desk. “But I assure you, nobody was hurt.”

  “Then what happened? Can you discuss it?”

  “Yeah. The ADA guidelines weren’t followed for the parking structures.” He set the coffee mug on the corner of his desk.

  “ADA is the Americans with Disabilities Act?”

  “Right,” Adam said, impressed that Trish had heard of the federal act. He’d had to explain it more than once to Cheryl when she’d first started working for him. “We make every effort to comply with the ADA, not only because we don’t want to get sued, but also, more importantly, because we want everyone to be able to enjoy the experience our resorts have to offer. It’s a no-brainer. But somehow, the subcontractor who built the parking structure didn’t comply with the guidelines.”

  “The guidelines tell you how many spaces you need for handicapped parking and that sort of thing?”

  “Right,” Adam said, pleased once again that she was aware of the issues involved. “It’s a lot more complicated than that, though, right down to the angles of curbs and degrees of slope, the width of sidewalks, the height of sinks in the bathrooms. I could bore you to tears with all the details. But the bottom line is, the crew building the parking lot screwed up.”

  “How did this lawyer find out about it?” she asked, pointing to the letter.

  “Good question,” Adam said, taking another sip of coffee. “There are organizations that make it their business to check out new facilities like hotels, shopping centers, public spaces, to make sure that the ADA guidelines are followed to the letter. That way, they can assure their members that they’ll have access to all areas.”

  “That’s probably a good idea.”

  “Yes, it is,” he said, and ordinarily he had no trouble with the inspections. Because the Dukes had never had a problem. Until now. “So now we’ve got to get it fixed before the resort opens.”

  “Can it be done that fast?”

  “That’s what the phone call was for. Bob’s already on it. In fact, he’s more furious than I am. He’ll get the subcontractor back there to clean up their mess. I want them to start as soon as possible, but before anything can happen, this lawyer wants to survey the site with us and point out everything that’s wrong.”

  She gave him an understanding smile. “You don’t like lawyers.”

  “They’re a necessary evil,” Adam said, shrugging. Then he grinned. “Besides, my lawyers can beat up anyone else’s lawyers any day.”

  Trish laughed. “I’m sure they can.”

  As pleased as he was to have made Trish laugh, he quickly sobered. “I don’t want to make light of this situation. I grew up with plenty of handicapped kids in the orphanage, so I know the problems they face.”

  Whoa, where had that come from?

  He rushed to change the subject even as Trish’s eyes widened in sympathy. “So while this problem is stupid and annoying, it’s not irreparable.”

  She nodded slowly, but didn’t say anything, and Adam knew that if he could’ve kicked himself, he would have. He’d never made a slip like that before. What was he doing, talking about the orphanage to someone outside of his own family? It was none of the world’s business what his life had been like before Sally Duke had intervened. Sure, reporters had dug out the truth in the past, but he preferred never to discuss it at all.

  “We’ll need the jet,” he said abruptly.

  She blinked. “We have a jet?”

  He simply nodded, then punched up his calendar on the computer. “Yeah, we’ve got a jet. I’ll need you to call and book it for Wednesday morning.”

  She snapped back into business mode and began writing in her notepad. “Wednesday morning. Where and when?”

  “Let’s make it eight o’clock. Leaving Dunsmuir Airport and traveling to the Fantasy Mountain airstrip. They’ve made the flight before. Let them know what you want for breakfast, and tell them I’ll have the usual.”

  She looked up, mystified. “The usual? Wait. Breakfast? Me? Why?”

  He grinned as she tripped over her words. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

  She shook her head in exasperation. “You don’t need me to go with you.”

  “Of course I do,” he said, breezing over her protest. He strolled to the wet bar, placed the coffee mug in the little sink, then casually added, “And pack an overnight bag.”

  “What?” She jumped up from the chair and blocked his way back to his desk. “Why?”

  He gazed into her beautiful, leaf-green eyes and almost forgot what they were talking about. Almost. “It might be a long day. We could get stuck on the mountain. You never know about the weather in November.” He could hear the tension in his own voice and wondered why a discussion of travel arrangements made him feel as horny as a high school kid.

  “I suppose,” she said slowly, but she didn’t look at all convinced. She obviously didn’t want to go to Fantasy Mountain, but the more she protested, the more he wanted her with him. She was so close, he itched to take her in his arms and fuse her body to his. But that probably wouldn’t help his cause just now.

  “Besides bringing you up to speed on the ADA issues,” he explained, “this’ll be a good time for you to take a look at the space for the opening-night festivities.”

  “Really, Adam, I don’t see why…” Her shoulders slumped and she blew out a brea
th.

  Adam stared at her for a moment. “Trish, are you afraid of flying?”

  “Of course not,” she said indignantly, her chin held high.

  “Good. Be ready to leave at eight o’clock Wednesday morning.”

  “Fine.”

  He sat down at his desk again and said, “We’ll go over your notes for the opening-night festivities while we’re in the air next week. I won’t have time to do it until then. And right now, I need you to pull some files.”

  Once Trish left the office, Adam could breathe again.

  Pensively, he stood up, strolled to the wide bank of windows and stared out at the coast. He’d been walking an increasingly narrow tightrope over the last few days, trying to keep his mind on business despite being barraged by sexual fantasies that featured his attractive new assistant.

  “Dammit.” He couldn’t blame Trish. She was efficient, discreet and intelligent. She seemed to have a good sense of humor. Adam noticed he’d been laughing a lot more lately and wondered if too much laughter was rotting his brain.

  The woman was not only good at her job, but actually seemed to care about him. Hell, she even made sure he ordered something healthy for dinner every night he worked late. She’d stood her ground on the health food issue again last night and he’d admired her style while at the same time he’d debated whether he could rip off her clothes, throw her onto his couch and satisfy his true hunger.

  Adam had already identified the problem. Lust. Pure and simple. He knew it. He just didn’t know what to do about it. Well, no, actually, he knew exactly what to do about it, he thought ruefully. He just couldn’t figure out when he would have a free minute to find a willing woman and satisfy that particular itch until the Fantasy Mountain resort was a done deal.

  He wasn’t going to give in to what he felt for Trish. Not while she was working for him.

  So it promised to be one hell of a frustrating month.

  An hour later, the intercom rang and Adam grabbed the phone. “What?” he asked a little too curtly.

  “It’s your brother Brandon on line 2,” Trish announced.

  “Thanks.”

  Adam pushed the speakerphone button. “What’s up?”

  “Who was that?” Brandon asked immediately.

  “My new assistant.”

  “Is she hot?”

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  “She must be hot.”

  “Goodbye, Brandon.”

  “Wait,” Brandon said quickly. “Just wanted to alert you to the fact that Mom had dinner with Marjorie last night.”

  “So what?”

  “Don’t you get it?” Brandon demanded. “Marjorie’s one of Mom’s oldest friends. She’s got to be in on the scheme. Think about it. Mom’s got our own Human Resources manager working to sabotage us from within the company. They’re perfectly positioned to bring you down.”

  “You’re nuts.”

  “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. Mom’s turned desperate and ruthless. I actually heard her say that you’re going down first, so you’d better be on your guard. Don’t be surprised if they pull an inside job.”

  Adam shook his head as his brother’s ranting came to an end. “When did you become so paranoid?”

  “Call me names but heed my words,” Brandon said in a serious tone, then added, “Mom wants grandkids and to get what she wants, she has to sacrifice us. You’re her first target, so I’m just saying you might want to beware of strange and beautiful women running amok in your office.”

  Adam laughed. “Were you hit in the head with one too many footballs?”

  “This is the thanks I get for watching your back?”

  “Talk to you later, bro,” Adam said, shaking his head.

  “I can only hope so,” Brandon said mournfully, then quickly reminded him about the weekend barbecue at their mother’s house.

  Adam was still chuckling when he hung up. He buzzed Trish and asked her to bring him the North Vineyard file. She entered his office and his gaze was immediately drawn to her legs. Again. The dress she wore was office appropriate. Almost too conservative, in fact. It shouldn’t have been sexy, so why were his nerves humming as he watched how well the silky material clung to her curves and skimmed her knees as she made her way across the room?

  Small silver buttons ran up the front of Trish’s dress and Adam wondered how long it would take to unbutton them enough to allow the soft fabric to slide off her shoulders and reveal her enticing breasts. In no time, he would have her naked, under him, on his desk.

  “Do you want it on your desk?” she asked.

  Adam flinched. Could she read his mind? He looked up to see her smiling as she held the thick client folder out for him to take. He exhaled heavily. Chances were, she wouldn’t be smiling if she knew which direction his mind drifted off to whenever she walked into the office.

  “Adam?”

  “Yeah.” What the hell was wrong with him? He felt a headache brewing and pinched the bridge of his nose. “On the desk. Thanks, Trish.”

  “I didn’t know your company owned vineyards.”

  “What?”

  She pointed to the file. “North Vineyard is part of Duke Cellars. I never made the connection until now.”

  “Oh.” He rubbed his forehead and tried to concentrate on the mundane topic. “Yes. We own a number of vineyards and we’ve just had our fourth press. It promises to be a good one. We’ll be opening a resort in the wine country next year.”

  “Oh, that sounds exciting.”

  “Yeah, it should be a fantastic opening.”

  Her eyes glittered with interest and all he could think about was making them shine with passion.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, concern in her voice.

  “Oh, yeah, great,” he said, clamping down on his urge to pull her onto his lap.

  “Are you sure I can’t do anything for you?”

  Not unless she was willing to give him a full body massage. “Thanks, no. I’ll be fine.”

  She didn’t look convinced. “Okay, but I’m right outside and I have aspirin if you need it.”

  A cold shower would be more of a help, but Adam nodded. “I appreciate it.”

  She turned to leave and he caught the lightest scent of oranges and vanilla. Against his better judgment, he savored the sweetness as he watched her long-legged gait carry her across the thickly carpeted office toward the door. The sway of her curvaceous bottom hypnotized him completely.

  Dammit, would he ever be able to relax in his own office again?

  Beware of strange and beautiful women running amok in your office.

  “What the-?” He looked around, then made a face as Brandon’s words managed to filter through his distracted mind.

  Trish turned. “Did you say something?”

  “No,” he said in a strangled tone he barely recognized as his own.

  “Okay.” She smiled, then slipped out and quietly shut the door behind her.

  An inside job.

  “Stop it,” he said aloud, shaking his head in protest. Brandon was seriously deranged and Adam was buying into his obsession, that was all.

  You’re her first target.

  “No, I’m not.”

  She’s ruthless and desperate.

  “There’s no way.” He shook his head again and cursed under his breath, then brusquely opened the North Vineyard file and started to study the lease terms. After reading the same convoluted sentence three times, he stopped, looked up and stared at the closed doors leading to Trish’s work area.

  They’re perfectly positioned to bring you down.

  He raked his fingers through his hair as he recalled Marjorie’s words four days ago, the morning she brought Trish in to take Cheryl’s place as his assistant.

  I’ve got the perfect person for you, Marjorie had said. And she’d been damn cheery about it, too.

  “Ah, hell,” he muttered. There was no way his brother Brandon was right. It was ludicrous. Trish? A plant?
A willing player in his mother’s scheme to marry him off?

  Or was she just a pawn?

  Adam pushed away from his desk and began to pace. He stopped. Shook his head. Paced some more. Stopped again.

  He was driving himself crazy.

  How could his mother and Marjorie pull off something like this? First of all, they would’ve had to have orchestrated Cheryl’s departure. Or would they? Maybe it was just a happy coincidence that Cheryl had left the company, and Marjorie, coerced by his mother, had jumped at the opportunity to bring in a certain attractive woman who just might be capable of seducing him into love and marriage.

  His eyes narrowed as he conjured up a picture of Mom and Marjorie meeting, scheming, conniving to pull it off.

  Suddenly, it didn’t seem at all far-fetched.

  Abruptly, he remembered Trish’s own words, the ones he’d overheard her say to someone on the phone the other day.

  Trust me, he won’t know what hit him.

  Had Trish been talking to his mother? Or Marjorie, perhaps? It was obvious from her words that something shady was going on.

  Did he really need more proof than that?

  No. He had all the ammunition he needed.

  He had to hand it to them, he admitted with a short laugh. Nice try. Trish was definitely attractive, and while he might enjoy the seduction part, there was no way in hell he’d fall for the whole love-and-marriage package.

  He stared out the window at the waves crashing against the cliffs south of Dunsmuir Bay. He and his brothers had bought this land and built their company in this spot specifically to take advantage of the view. Despite the advantages Sally Duke had given them, they’d worked their asses off to get their company to the place it was today. He wouldn’t allow some gold digger to get her greedy paws on half of all that.

  Raking a frustrated hand through his hair, he turned from the window and grabbed a bottle of water from the sideboard. It just figured that Mom would pick out someone smart and nurturing like Trish to be his mate. Yes, she was beautiful, too, but her beauty was fresh and healthy, nothing like the calculated, sophisticated, worldly women he’d always dated in the past. He knew his mother disapproved of those types of women, but they filled the bill as far as Adam was concerned. Women who wanted no strings, no obligations, just healthy, raucous sex when the spirit moved them. Nothing wrong with that.