Love Contract. Lisa Watson

Chi-Town and paying off the rest of what she owed their creditors.

      * * *

      It took a few weeks, but Milán was finally acclimated to her environment. She still hadn’t received any job offers, but she remained hopeful. Though she had not met many people, the ones she had become acquainted with were great. While at a church function with a neighbor, she had met Norma Jean Anderson and immediately connected with the older woman. Meeting Norma Jean seemed like the answer to her prayers. Just listening to her gush about her real estate mogul of a son, Adrian, was a step in the right direction. With him looking for an interior designer and stager to compliment his agency, and Milán in need of a job, Norma Jean assured her that working there would be the perfect match.

      It sounded exciting enough, and Milán was eager to start work. Some of the prospects had been hopeful and she’d received a few callbacks, but so far nothing had panned out.

      Sweeping all the younger woman’s concerns aside, Norma Jean had promised to arrange a meeting for her with Adrian. Milán got caught up in her new friend’s excitement. She was confident all would work out. This would be a job made in heaven, she had thought the very day Norma Jean had called back and told her to be at his office the following Monday at nine-thirty.

      Coming out of her reverie, Milán took a deep breath. “It’s all yours,” she told her mirrored reflection. She retrieved her purse and portfolio off the coffee table. “This is your time to shine, chica. He’ll love your designs and ideas and will offer you a job,” she said confidently. Glancing at her watch, Milán frowned. Being late for her meeting with her soon-to-be boss would not look good. It had to be a fantastic interview. Juggling her purse, coffee and briefcase, she headed out.

      After seeing all the traffic she had to contend with, Milán was glad she’d decided to leave early. It was definitely a wise move. Downtown Chicago during rush hour was bumper-to-bumper. By the time she had arrived and parked at the North Halstead address Norma Jean have given her, she had less than twenty minutes to spare. Her gaze traveled up the brick boutique-styled building. She definitely liked the large windows and glass door. A dark blue banner with white letters read Anderson Realty.

      “This is the place,” she said aloud. Giving herself a mental shake, she squared her shoulders and went in.

      Chapter 2

      Adrian sat heavily in his chair. He felt like his head was about to explode. The throbbing in his temples made it difficult to concentrate on the woman standing in front of him. When his assistant had come in to tell him that his nine-thirty appointment was waiting, he had assumed it was a prospective interviewee for the Interior Designer position. How wrong he had been. When Adrian’s assistant told him that the woman he had agreed to meet with had been recommended by his mother, a feeling of dread rippled through his entire body and then pure anger. Interior Designer indeed. This was no interview. It was a setup.

      In an effort to calm down, he ran his hand over his face and breathed deeply. Resentment made the air hiss on its way out of his mouth. His mother had gone too far this time. This was his place of business, not some bar. With a practiced eye, Adrian scrutinized the woman that his assistant had shown into his office. He may be mad, but he sure wasn’t blind. She was like a stop sign placed in the middle of a freeway during rush-hour traffic. Her looks demanded a man come to a screeching halt and take notice. Long legs did an excellent job of supporting her curvaceous body. The golden hue of her skin was flawless, except for a splattering of freckles on her upper cheeks and nose. Her hair was the color of rich chocolate, and with golden highlights. The way light reflected off the luminous waves that hung just below her shoulders made the color contrast stunning. It beckoned a man to run his fingers through it. His hands clenched together unconsciously.

      Adrian’s gaze sought hers. This time the air that expelled itself from his mouth was for an altogether different reason. Those eyes. Her eyes were the pièce de résistance. They were an expressive, medium brown with flecks of light gold around the outer edge that held both strength and mystery. They could drown a man if he was not careful. And he would love every minute of it, he told himself. Adrian felt an instant reaction to the visual display of beauty before him. Instinct kicked in. His body eagerly anticipated taking the perusal to a whole new level, until he remembered the person responsible for the exquisite vision standing in front of him. Cold water splashed on his face could not have produced a faster effect. Slightly annoyed that he had gone poetic at a time like this, he remembered the catalyst by which this gorgeous woman now graced his presence. I can’t believe this. She’s done it to me again.

      That realization was enough to jolt Adrian out of his trance. His ardor was quickly squelched and back under wraps where it belonged. This time when his eyes centered on the woman before him, they brooked no warmth. “I can’t believe she sent you.”

      “Who?”

      Despite his new motivation to send her on her way, Adrian couldn’t deny that her voice was as appealing to him as warm butter on a biscuit—and he loved biscuits.

      “My mother!” The two words burst forth, coating the air with tension. He tried to calm himself. Lord knows it took considerable effort. It would appear that the Love Broker had struck again. Looking at the latest proof of Norma Jean Anderson’s handiwork made his blood pressure skyrocket. Hadn’t they had this conversation hours earlier?

      Confusion registered on the woman’s face. “Well, yes. Your mother gave me your card and told me I had to come see you.” Sitting across from him, she shrugged out of her suit jacket. “She told me you were exactly the man I needed.”

      “I’ll bet she did,” he quipped. Adrian stood up, his hands straightening his suit. He’d heard enough. She may be working it in all the right places, and his temperature may have risen a degree or two, but there was no way in hell he was taking the bait. No way. “Listen, Miss?”

      “Dixon...Milán Dixon.”

      “It would appear you’ve wasted your time, Miss Dixon—and mine. As fine as you are, and believe me you are without a doubt the most desirable woman my mother has ever paraded my way, I’m just not interested. Of course, if she had tried a few months ago before I got inundated by trolls maybe I would’ve—”

      “Excuse me?” Despite her surprise, Milán scowled at him. “You think this is a...a come-on?”

      Though his eyes devoured her, they also held a hint of challenge that transferred itself to his tone of voice. “Like it isn’t?”

      Milán was out of her chair with her hands on her hips in an instant. “No, it isn’t. This was supposed to be a job interview.”

      Her rapid breathing caused her ample chest to stretch the ecru-colored silk blouse taut. His eyes were drawn to the motion like a magnet on a stainless steel refrigerator.

      Coming around the expansive desk, Adrian stopped just shy of wearing her. He was impressed she stood her ground. It would appear his mother had finally found one with spirit. “Oh, my mother set up an interview all right, but it’s apparent from the looks of you a job was the last thing she had in mind.”

      Standing ramrod straight, it took a few seconds for Milán to recover. When she did, her voice chilled the air around them like a cold front. “You know, of all the stuck-up, asinine, incredibly rude men I’ve come across in my travels, you, Mr. Anderson, set the precedent.”

      He leaned back against his desk and crossed his arms in front of his chest. The smile he wore relayed his admiration. “Interesting. Smart, fiery, yet still able to retain your composure in tense situations. I’m truly impressed. I must say, my mother really outdid herself. Do me a favor. The next time you see Norma Jean, and she asks how her ingenious plan went, tell her this for me.” His arms snaked out and yanked Milán to him. He held her in an unyielding embrace as his lips clamped down on hers.

      He felt Milán try to wrench herself free, but she was no match against his strength, or his irritation. He would teach his mother a lesson once and for all, and if he had to use her latest protégé to ram that point home, so be it. With practiced movements,