Rik propped his big feet on the edge of his desk as Lizzy answered the intercom. Leaning back in his chair, he stared thoughtfully at his feet, wriggling the toes of his unclad right foot as he crossed his hands behind his head and stretched languidly.
“My grandfather decided I needed to interview some guy named Sam Kelly this morning for the Landsmaster position at the Estates. Fuck that shit, he’s a disaster waiting to happen! I don’t want him anywhere near the Estates. I want you to run interference when he gets here this morning.”
Rik felt the strange sensations coalescing, centering on his chest. Rubbing absently at the burning sensation, he tugged at his shirt and peeked down. Nothing there. With a puff of exasperation, Rik leaned over and grabbed his other sock.
“I already have a prime candidate anyways, so I’m going to need you to give Mr. Kelly a kind ‘thanks, but no fucking way’ for me.” Yeah, a candidate that isn’t a potential fire hazard. “Tell him I got called away for an emergency this weekend and that we’ll reschedule some other time, once I get back.”
Cocking his knee, Rik tugged on his sock as he continued. “Tomorrow, send him a polite, but firm, email letting him know we decided to go a different direction. You know the proper shit to say, you’re the nice one.”
Sock secured, Rik kicked his feet back up and stretched in his chair, turning his gaze from the phone to look out the floor-to-ceiling window of his office that gave him a prime view of Denver. The southern side of the city was painted in rich ambers, the dawn’s early light covering the landscape in warmth. Although he didn’t have a view of the Rockies from his private suite, just the knowledge they were at his back had always given him a sense of stability and security. He had been born in the Rockies, and if he had his way, he’d never leave them for long.
“Anyways, sweetie,” Rik grinned, knowing full well that Lizzy would get him back for the affectionate term, “Before Mr. Unnatural Disaster gets here, could you bring me some coffee? I haven’t had a chance yet, and I’d kill for some good brew.” Rik’s smile fell away as the burning in his chest once more intensified, painfully so. Grimacing, he admitted plaintively, “I’ve had a rough weekend.”
Yes, he was not above using wheedling to get his way. Lizzy had been with the company almost as long as he had, treating him as her little brother more than her boss. A little sympathy play always worked wonders.
Rik grinned in anticipation of Lizzy’s response to his playing the Big Bad Boss Man role. The voice that came over the intercom, however, was not Lizzy’s. And it changed Rik’s world forever.
“Listen here, you mother loving son of a rat.” That voice was a husky, feminine growl and he damn near toppled over backward as his cock went from zero to ludicrous speed between one heartbeat and the next. Even distorted by the intercom, it was honey and whisky, sin and sensuality, and it near drove him to his knees with the desire to make her scream his name.
“Sam is short for Samantha, so that’s Ms. Kelly to you!”
Sam. Samantha. Ms. Kelly. I wonder how she’d sound as Mrs. Leon, Rik thought, then blinked in shock as the burning sensation in his chest ignited. Wait? Mrs. Leon? What the fuck?
“Secondly, I wouldn’t work for you now if the good Lord Himself offered me the position, complete with the services of Chrises Evans, Hemsworth, Pine, and Pratt as my naked pool boys!”
That particular mental image, of four Hollywood heartthrobs serving the faceless woman who possessed that voice, drew a growl from Rik’s throat as a red haze briefly blinded him. Oh, hell no! Only naked man servicing you will be me!
“So, you can take this job and shove it up your judgmental, misogynistic butt with the Rusted-Iron-Spiked-Dildo-of-Doom!”
Her roar rocked Rik back in his chair. He just managed to catch himself from falling backward, when he heard her damned purring voice once more. “Have a lovely day, Mr. Leon, and you can kiss my fat, Irish ass!”
Boom! Down Rik went, his chair crashing sideways and sending Rik to the ground. Staring up at the ceiling in bemusement, one foot still propped up on the edge of his desk, Rik’s first thought was, Oh, I’ll kiss that ass all right, right after I get it nice and red and ready for me. His brow furrowed. What. The. Fuck?
It took a moment for Rik to reorient himself, and another moment to jump to his feet. Shoving his chair out of his way, sending it crashing against his desk, Rik tapped into his innate glamour, the mystical power that naturally coursed through his veins as one of the Leanaí, as he raced through the office. His power let him move with the swiftness of the wind, letting him dodge around the thankfully empty desks of the main office, as he hunted for the source of the husky, sweet voice that made him think very naughty thoughts and want to do very naughty things. Repeatedly.
Rik drew up short as he came to the reception area. Part of his mind noted the shaking shoulders of Lizzy and the presence of his youngest sister at the front door, but his attention was truly captured by the shorter woman with her back to him. Her lush, curvy body was emphasized by a charcoal gray suit that would look great on his bedroom floor.
Turn around, Rik mentally commanded, instinctively reaching out with his glamour to compel her to do just that.
She ignored him.
Rik felt a thrill of shock as his glamour rolled off of her, but before he could pursue that, she spoke again and he had to lock his legs to keep from falling to his knees.
“Sorry about that. Temper got away from me,” she said in a soft, rueful tone that had him shivering in need. He was so fascinated by the flex of her curvy, Irish—very Irish, apparently, if he went by the mane of fiery curls straining to free themselves from a cruel bun and the scattering of freckles he noted on the back of her neck that possibly led all the way down to that—ass, Rik was unaware he was once more rubbing at his chest with enough vigor the buttons of his dress shirt were forced to give way to give him access to the flesh beneath.
Clara’s remarks, particularly the one about the women he had slept with, tore Rik from his trance and wrung a disgusted groan from him. Little sisters, the world’s foremost experts at cockblocking!
Rik glared at his sister. Angrily waving his hands and shaking his head, he tried to halt the cockblock train from leaving the station. Clara, of course, ignored him as completely as the tiny firebrand had.
“See, while Rik may be the CEO of Lyon Enterprises, I actually manage the Estates. That’s why our grandparents sent me down to sit in on the interview.”
The cheeky wench met his eyes and smirked at him. That earned her the middle finger. Before Rik could interject, say something to get the redhead to turn around and look at him, Clara blithely continued.
“Why don’t you and I go downstairs, have some coffee, and we’ll chat about the position alone, instead?”
Still unable to find words—any words—to interrupt, Clara proceeded to drag Ms. Kelly out of the office, chattering all the while. “Come on, the least we can do is get you some coffee and go over your portfolio,” Clara continued, steamrolling over any potential rejections. “You won’t have to deal with my jerk of a brother, we can even talk shit about him all you want! It’s one of my very favorite pastimes anyways.”
When Sam glanced back to look at Lizzy for support, Rik’s world tilted askew. Stormy blue-gray eyes glinted behind a pair of large, black-rimmed glasses when they turned his way. His breath caught. With the glasses, the business suit, and her hair in a bun, she was the living embodiment of the naughty librarian and sexy secretary all rolled into one curvaceous package.
She quite literally took his breath away. With a pale ivory complexion only redheads seemed to possess, there was a hint of freckles peeking through the concealer she wore to try and hide them, dusting her pert nose and the curve of her cheeks. The bow of her full lips was emphasized by a dark wine color that made him thirsty for a single sip. With the instincts of a lifelong bachelor, his eyes zeroed in on her left hand, noting with satisfaction the lack of any bands, although…was that a hint of a thin pale line on her ring finger?
He was distracted from further pursuing that train of thought when he looked up and met her eyes once more. Ms. Kelly then smirked and stuck out her tongue, his last glimpse of her before the heavy wooden doors of the office slammed shut, leaving him staring, lost in thoughts of just what she should be doing with that tongue.
Rik had no idea he stood there, shoeless, his hand beneath his shirt rubbing his chest, but his introspection was brought short by Lizzy’s amused voice.
“Well, that was a royal fuck up, wasn’t it?”
Turning narrowed eyes down to find Lizzy grinning impishly, eyes twinkling in amusement, Rik sniffed disdainfully and tilted his chin to an appropriately arrogant angle. Smoothing his face into an expression of cool indifference, he shoved both hands into his pockets.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. As I said, I already have a candidate for the position. I’m sure Ms. Kelly can find other employment elsewhere.” Although it looks like Clara’s going to offer her the position anyways. Interfering brat!
Besides, Rik wasn’t completely sure he wanted to see Ms. Kelly again. The way she affected him, the way his heart pounded and his cock hardened just at the sound of her voice, he wasn’t sure he could survive being around her at all.
“Oh?” Lizzy drew out the word, her grin growing wider, eyes nearly disappearing in her mirthful expression.
Rik didn’t trust that tone in her voice, the implications in that single word. He liked it even less when she raised a finger and pointed to his chest, where his shirt hung open. “That says otherwise, m’lord.”
Unable to resist, damned curiosity, Rik glanced down. Barely visible through the gaping front of his dress shirt, beneath the dusting of golden curls on his chest, he caught the hint of brilliant jade and sapphire swirls undulating over his left pectoral muscle.
“Fuck. She’s my damned anam cara.”
And Rik wasn’t sure whether he should be more concerned that he had apparently royally fucked up and pissed off his soulmate, or to shout in ecstatic joy that he had been gifted with finding the other half of his soul.