The Inconvenient Laws of Attraction. Trish Wylie

here’s how it’s gonna be, sweetheart. The only advice you get to give me is law-re-lated—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