Playboy's Ruthless Payback. Charlene Sands

potential clients to stay at your house instead of a hotel?”

      “They’re the type who appreciate home and family and soft edges—” he waved his hand “—all of that.”

      “But you don’t.”

      “No.”

      She stood and took the plate that was in front of him, the plate with half a remaining brownie on it. “I have a question for you,” she said, walking to the sink and depositing the dish there. She was small, but all curves, and when she walked it was seduction with every step. She turned to face him, leaned back against the countertop and crossed her arms over her full chest. Mac felt his gut tighten at the picture-perfect sight of her. “You believe that my dad caused your clients to leave your firm, right?” she said, arching her brow.

      “Actually it was the lies your father spread that caused my clients to leave,” he corrected.

      “If you think that, then why would you want to work with his daughter? Unless…”

      “Unless what?”

      She walked to him and stopped just shy of his chair. If he reached out, grabbed her around her tiny, perfect waist and pulled her onto his lap, what would she do?

      Whoever said payback was a bitch hadn’t seen this woman.

      “Unless you want to use me to get back at him,” she said in a voice so casual she might have been reading a grocery list.

      He matched her tone. “Is that what he told you?”

      “Yes, but he didn’t really have to.”

      “And how exactly would I use you?”

      She shook her head. “Not quite sure.” When she sat this time it was across from him.

      “But your father has some ideas?”

      “He’s worried about your…” She smiled, thin as a blade. “Obvious charms—I mean, you’re a great-looking guy. But I assured him he didn’t have anything to worry about.”

      Well, this was a first. “Really?”

      She nodded, said matter-of-factly, “I let him know that I would never be interested.”

      Mac felt his brow lift.

      She laughed. “I don’t mean to insult you, but the truth is, I would never go for a guy like you.”

      “Why do you think I’m insulted?”

      The question caught her off guard and she stumbled with her words. “I, well—”

      “And what kind of guy do you think I am?”

      She lifted her chin. “One who assumes he can have anything he wants and any woman he wants.”

      Mac was not a man of assumptions, he was a man of words and deeds, and this woman was starting to piss him off. “I go after what I want, Miss Winston, but the people and things that come to me come at their own free will, I can assure you.”

      “You’re just that irresistible.”

      He sat back in his chair. “Do all clients of No Ring Required go through an interrogation process or is it just me?”

      “You’re not a client yet, Mister—”

      “Ah, Olivia.” Tess stuck her head in the office, a confused expression on her face. “Can I see you for a moment?”

      “Sure.” Olivia turned to Mac. “I’ll be right back, Mr. Valentine.”

      He saw, with vicious pleasure, that she was caught off guard and he couldn’t help but grin as he said, “I wish I could say I was looking forward to it.”

      “If you can’t wait…” she began.

      “Oh, I can wait.” He reached for his coat, and snagged his BlackBerry from the pocket. “I’ll make a few calls.”

      Olivia felt like taking the man’s phone and crushing it under her heel, but she smiled and nodded. Once out in the hall, the door tightly closed behind her, she faced her anxious-looking partners.

      “What are you doing in there?” Tess said in a harsh whisper.

      “Talking to a potential client.”

      “Insulting a potential client, is more like it,” said Tess dryly, her arms crossed over her chest.

      “Tess, you don’t know the situation—”

      Ever the mediator, Mary took over, her tone calm and parental. “Whatever the situation is, Liv, we could hear you all the way from our offices, and it sounded like an attack. Can you tell us what’s going on?”

      Olivia blew out a breath. “He’s not a normal client. Hell, I don’t even know if he’s going to be a client at all.”

      “Not after what I just heard,” Tess grumbled.

      “At ease, Tess.” Knowing her partners deserved an explanation, Olivia offered them the simplest one. “He and my father are in the same business, and a few of Mac Valentine’s clients have decided to leave him and hire my dad instead. Mac thinks my father went the unethical route and told the financial community that he was doling out preferential treatment and tips to his better-looking clients.”

      “Wow,” Tess began. “And did your father do that?”

      “I can’t imagine. My father’s always been at the top of his profession. But the point is, Mac Valentine believes it. He thinks my father is responsible for the loss of three of his best clients, and now he’s hiring me to get even.”

      Tess frowned. “What?”

      “How?” Mary said, perplexed.

      “I don’t know yet, but I intend to find out.”

      “I don’t like the sound of this,” Tess said, shooting Mary a warning glance.

      “Does he have a legitimate request for us?” Mary asked.

      “He’s out to bag a few new clients to replace the ones he’s lost, and he wants me to make his house homey and inviting on several levels to impress them.”

      Mary put a hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “If you don’t feel you can handle him, Liv, Tess or I will—”

      “No. First of all, he only wants me, and secondly, I’m not about to run from this man. I’m a professional, and I’ll get the job done without getting involved.”

      Mary put a hand to her belly. “Sounds familiar.”

      “If I don’t take the job, I’m willing to bet this guy would find a way of letting it be known around town that one of NRR’s partners isn’t a true professional. We don’t need that.”

      Both Mary and Tess begrudgingly agreed.

      “Just be careful, okay?” said Mary, squeezing Olivia’s arm.

      “Always.” She gave them a bright smile and a wave and returned to the kitchen.

      Mac was just finishing a call when Olivia eased back into her seat at the table, an NRR contract for him to sign in her hand. She took a deep breath. “Sorry about that.”

      “For leaving the room or for the insults?”

      “Look, I’m going to take this ‘job’ because I am a professional and have partners who are counting on me. I’m also more than a little curious as to what you’re going to try and pull. But know this, Mr. Valentine, lay one hand on me and we’re done, understand?”

      Mac looked amused. “For someone who believes herself so unaffected by a guy like me, you’re acting worried.”

      “Boundaries and rules—good things to have.”

      After a beat, Mac agreed. “I understand.