Catch a Mate. Gena Showalter

not just imply what I think you just implied.”

      “Implied?” He chuckled, the sound rich and smooth, utterly captivating and completely mocking. “I spoke only truth, Dimples.”

      Dimples? Grrrr! So, not only had Anne hired a male, she’d hired one with an overinflated ego. Life would only be more perfect if Jillian scheduled a pelvic exam and gained four hundred pounds. She was kind of glad he’d revealed his true nature, though. Knowing he was a hungry hog lessened his visual appeal. Or so she told herself.

      “I’m the best bait in the business,” he added, “and you’re lucky to have me here. You, on the other hand, are of questionable morals, questionable character and prone to extreme bouts of emotion. I’ve read your file.”

      He’d read her file? While it was okay for her to sneak around and read confidential files, it was not okay for someone to read hers. Double standard be damned! But something hot—very hot—washed through her blood as she thought about him doing it. Something very much like…desire? Oh, hell no. You’re mad that he just insulted you. You are not excited. Your stomach is clenching in anger, not arousal.

      “First, you shouldn’t have read my file. That’s for Anne’s eyes only. Second, I am not of questionable morals or questionable character. I have never, ever slept with a target.” It was the truth. She felt nothing but contempt for her targets, now and always. “I’ve punched a few in the face, yes, so I won’t argue the ‘extreme bouts of emotion.’”

      “Gold star for Jillian, then,” he muttered, “for managing to keep her clothes on at work.”

      That hot, fiery something sparked again. “Do you hear the way he’s insulting me?” she demanded of Anne. “Do you realize what kind of person he is, that he can say something like that?”

      Amusement flashed in Anne’s hazel eyes. “I hear and I realize.”

      “And you’re still going to hire him?”

      Anne gave her an enigmatic smile. “Something like that.”

      She gasped. Just shut your mouth. Act like a professional—unlike Marcus. “You’re telling me you want this…this miva working for you?” she found herself saying anyway. One child in the room obviously wasn’t enough.

      “Miva?” Anne echoed, confused.

      “Male diva,” Jillian replied.

      “Nice,” Marcus said, sarcasm dripping from that one word. “I’m right here, you know. You might save this stimulating conversation for after I’ve left.”

      “And you’re fine with that?” she continued, as if Egotistical Ass hadn’t spoken. Everything—well, almost everything—inside her wanted him gone. Now. He’d insulted her and rather than experiencing fury as she’d tried to convince herself, she wanted to tear off his clothes. There. She’d admitted it. This kind of thing had never happened to her before and it creeped her out. “His attitude doesn’t make you want to feed his organs to your cats?”

      Anne held up her index finger. “One, I don’t have cats.” Another finger. “Two, his attitude doesn’t bother me because you’re the one who has to deal with him. He’s going with you tonight.”

      “What!”

      “You heard me. He’s going with you.” There was no room for argument in Anne’s tone and all traces of humor had vanished from her expression. Jillian barely had time to react before Anne added, “As Marcus said, he’s done this type of work before. But I want him to observe how we at CAM run our operation.

      “Here are photos of your newest target.” She handed one to Jillian and one to Marcus. “I’ve got personal business for the rest of the day, so I’ll be back tomorrow. You’re a professional—I hope—so you should be able to handle a day without me.”

      What? What! “Where are you going?” Jillian gasped out. Her fingers closed shakily around the photo.

      “I told you, it’s personal. No more questions. Now, have a good day.” And with that, Anne gathered her purse, stood, and strode to the entrance. Her starched black pantsuit crackled as she walked.

      “Anne,” Jillian called, shock pounding through her. Anne practically lived in the office. Why was she leaving early?

      “The answer is no,” Anne said, reaching for the doorknob.

      “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

      “Doesn’t matter. The answer is still no.” With a tug, she opened the door. Georgia spilled inside and tumbled onto the crimson carpet. Never breaking stride, Anne stepped over her, saying, “Get back to work, Carrington.” Then she disappeared down the hall.

      Georgia popped to her feet, cheeks blooming as bright a red as her hair. She tugged on her strapless dress before the twins popped out. “I, uh, was just about to knock. Would anyone like a cup of coffee?”

      “No, thanks,” Jillian muttered. The caffeine might be the final push her heart needed to achieve full arrest. She never would have gotten out of bed this morning if she’d known this kind of day awaited her.

      Marcus didn’t utter a word.

      “All righty, then.” Georgia hurriedly shut the door, closing Jillian and Marcus inside. Alone. Together.

      Heavy silence filled the room.

      Say something. Do something. She shifted in her seat and her gaze flicked to CAM’s newest employee. He was watching her, something unreadable in his eyes, something hard and soft at the same time. Something dangerous to her peace of mind. She shifted again. Be nice so he’ll stop insulting you. Then you won’t get turned on anymore.

      Which, by the way, her mind added, is ridiculous.

      When had she become such a masochist?

      “How did you convince Anne to give you this job?” she asked, her voice breathless as it pushed through the sudden block of ice in her throat.

      A muscle ticked in his temple. “You may not realize this, so allow me to enlighten you. That question is insulting. In fact, you’ve done nothing but insult me since you first entered this office. Or maybe you do realize it and you just don’t give a shit.”

      She held up a hand, palm out. “Honestly, no insult intended.” Good, you’re doing good. “It’s just, I know Anne, you don’t. This isn’t like her. You’re not the only man who’s wanted to work here. She’s always said no in the past.”

      “I may not be the only man to want to work here, but I promise you I’m the best.”

      Jillian had no doubts about that. No woman would be able to resist that potent allure of his. Still…“There’s got to be more to it than that.”

      “What are you getting at?” he asked through clenched, white teeth. “That I’m Anne’s boy toy?”

      Suddenly on the defensive, she stiffened her spine. “Well, are you?”

      “FYI, Dimples. I’ve never been so hard up for a job that I had to sleep with the boss to get one.” Tone crisper with every word, he added, “Even though you’re obviously slow, I really hope you understand my next words so I won’t have to bring out Happy the sock puppet. Pay attention. There might be a quiz. Anne. Wants. To. Expand. The. Business. End of story.”

      Her eyes narrowed. A wave of intense loathing—yes, loathing and not some other, brainless emotion—swept through her. Some people clicked at their first meeting, some people…didn’t. They obviously hadn’t. And every moment together made the dislike—yes, dislike and not some other, even more brainless emotion—intensify.

      Be in control. Don’t let him see how much he’s affecting you. “My questions and concerns were legitimate,” she said (somewhat) evenly.

      “No, they weren’t,” he ground out.

      “Of