Lizzy in the lead, Sam stepped into the corporate offices of Cœur de Lyon Enterprises. The office was a strange mix of modern and rustic décor that somehow worked together, with the floors a dark, gleaming mahogany and the walls a cool, slate gray. Thick burgundy carpets, shot through with golden geometric patterns, were situated around key areas, while the walls were hung with contemporary Renaissance-themed landscapes.
The front office was a large reception area, with a long, high desk forming a natural wall to the main office beyond. The desk had a façade of thin gray stones stagger-stacked upon one another, with a thick mahogany desktop. A floating glass sign was fixed to the front of the desk, facing the door, and emblazoned with the company’s logo: a golden lion head facing forward, jaws opened in a roar, with a ruby heart set into the flowing mane beneath the jaws, beneath which was the company’s name.
To one side of the reception area was a scale model of the crowning jewel of the company, Cœur de Lyon Estate and Village. As Lizzy moved behind the desk and got herself settled in, Sam drifted over to the display.
Located in a mountain valley between two peaks in the Colorado Rockies, the Estate and Village were divided from each other by a river, creating distinct properties. The western portion of the property was the Estate, dominated by a large castle, the Château de Lyon, perched upon a high hill, overlooking a small lake and a number of small cabins. The eastern side of the property was completely dedicated to the Cœur de Lyon Village, which served as a permanent Renaissance and Fantasy Faire, with open fields and campgrounds, and a number of business venues.
The scale model was incredibly detailed, with small plaques detailing features of the property. As Sam studied the model, with most of the property still relatively untouched wilderness, the surrounding Rockies, the water sources, and its location, her mind spun with possibilities.
Feeling a strange prickling race through her body, Sam absently juggled her briefcase, portfolio, and pea coat as she rubbed absently at the left side of her chest.
“Mr. Leon?” Sam heard Lizzy say from behind her. “Are you in yet?”
“Yeah, Lizzy, I am.”
The voice on the other end of the intercom filled the reception area and had Sam whipping her head around. The voice was husky and deep, utterly masculine and filled with a purring resonance that reached deep within and wrapped around her core.
Sam stifled the urge to moan as she felt her nipples tighten and a strange clenching in her lower abdomen. She wanted to soak in that voice, let it wash over her body and through her soul. Her flesh tingled as she clenched her eyes, and her thighs, tightly shut as she was swept away into a fantasy filled with that voice growling very naughty things into her ear. Then the dumbass had to continue speaking.
“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.”
Sam felt herself go pale, her eyes popping open in shock as her head reeled. All she could do was stare at Lizzy, flabbergasted, who stared back in horrified silence as the jerk continued ranting.
Part of her wished Lizzy would cut the man off, end the onslaught and just let her slink off with some kind of dignity intact, but when a flustered Lizzy opened her mouth to say something, to stop the man from devouring his foot whole, Sam held up a hand and shook her head. Sam wanted to see just how deep a grave she was going to have to dig for Mr. Leon.
“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. Tell him I got called away for an emergency this weekend and that we’ll reschedule some other time, once I get back. 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.”
Sam considered herself to be fairly even-tempered, particularly given the usual temperament associated with redheads. Of the Kelly kids, she was the peacekeeper. She liked her world nice and calm and Zen. Well, Mr. Fucking Leon had just nuked her Zen from orbit and was dancing on the ashes.
No job was worth this shit.
Gathering her tattered dignity like some grand dame of the silver screen, Sam straightened her shoulders, tilted her chin up, and blinked away the tears of hurt and rage burning her eyes. She was lightheaded, and from the burning in her upper body, she was flushed from head to toe with her fury.
With an abrupt nod at Lizzy, Sam spun on her Jimmy Choo kitten heel and stalked toward the door.
Better to retreat and start over than give that asshole another…
He had to keep talking, didn’t he?
“Anyway, sweetie, 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. I’ve had a rough weekend.”
Fuck. Ing. Bastard! Mr. Unnatural Disaster? Sam physically growled as she spun back around and glared at the disembodied voice of the sexist bastard who couldn’t even get her gender right.
Stalking toward the desk, every muffled step of Sam’s Jimmy Choos made both Lizzy’s eyes and smile widen with an unholy anticipation. Setting her stuff on the counter, Sam pointed at the intercom and arched a delicate brow.
Lizzy blinked rapidly, glancing between Sam’s face and the phone. Nodding in understanding, Lizzy pressed the intercom button and grandly waved a hand for Sam to speak.
“Listen here, you mother loving son of a rat. Sam is short for Samantha, so that’s Ms. Kelly to you!” Sam cleared her throat, her naturally husky voice gravelly with her rage. She was angry, like Hulk SMASH angry, but even still, it was difficult to overcome a lifetime of verbally creative cursing to avoid upsetting her strict mother.
Panting, shaking with the force of her unadulterated rage, the feelings she had kept bottled deep inside since the whole debacle started erupted from deep within her. Well, at least she had a target to vent her pyroclastic fury upon! So caught up in her rage, Sam hadn’t heard the office door opening behind her, nor noticed Lizzy giving the new arrival a warning shake of her head. On a roll, Sam continued.
“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!”
From the way Lizzy fanned herself at the mental image, Sam wasn’t the only one with that reoccurring fantasy. Besides, could you blame them?
“So, you can take this job and shove it up your judgmental, misogynistic butt with the Rusted-Iron-Spiked-Dildo-of-Doom!”
Chest heaving, Sam took a long, deep breath before releasing it on a shaky huff. Pasting a patently false smile on her face, she said in her sweetest, cheeriest voice, “Have a lovely day, Mr. Leon, and you can kiss my fat, Irish ass!”
Okay, so she was going to have to beg her mother for forgiveness later, but so worth it!
A loud crash boomed from somewhere deeper in the office before dead silence fell. With a nod of satisfaction, Sam grabbed her stuff, then froze. Behind her, a slow, steady applause grew in tempo and strength, echoing into the silence and causing Sam to cringe.
Sam glanced at Lizzy, who was trying to hide a smirk as she turned away to wriggle her mouse and stare at a blank monitor. Yep, no help from that corner. Sam swallowed, stiffened her spine, and slowly turned around, clutching her burden against her chest. When another crash sounded from the deep in the office behind Lizzy, Sam jumped and found herself looking up at a goddess.
Okay, not an actual goddess, more like a supermodel who had apparently wandered into the wrong office, but the woman was stunning. Tall and willowy, with wavy platinum-blonde hair in a stylish, short bob framing striking features. Emerald eyes with gold flecks danced in amusement as the supermodel gave Sam a grin to make the Cheshire Cat tremble. She was dressed in an oversized, cowl-necked, Cashmere sweater baring one ivory shoulder, while a set of dark burgundy jeans hugged long, lithe legs that kept going, and going. Her calf-high suede boots were high-heeled, and easily pushed the woman over six feet in height, more than a foot taller than Sam. Subtle jewelry, both tasteful and expensive, and a deft hand with make-up completed the supermodel’s ensemble, and all combined to make Sam feel short, round, and dumpy.
“You tell him, sister,” the woman said, her voice bright and lyrical, as of course it was. She stepped forward, offering her hand as she continued, “I’m Clara Leon, sister of the judgmental asshole, although I must say that while Rik may love our mother, she isn’t really a rat.”
Blushing furiously, Sam offered a weak, apologetic smile as she juggled her stuff and accepted the proffered hand. “I’m sorry about that. My temper got a little carried away there.”
Giving Sam’s hand a warm, friendly pat, Clara laughed. “Oh, believe me, Rik has that effect on plenty of people.” She pursed her lips thoughtfully, “Although, usually it’s only after he sleeps with a woman and leaves her high-and-dry afterward that women usually yell at him.”
Tilting her head, Clara regarded Sam intently. “I take it you’re Sam Kelly? The Sam Kelly interviewing for the position with Cœur de Lyon Estates?”
A loud, muffled curse sounded behind Sam, from a distinctly masculine voice, but Sam ignored it. “Yes, well, I was supposed to, but apparently not anymore.”
“Why don’t we just pretend the last few minutes didn’t happen,” Clara offered with a grin. “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.” Shifting her gaze over Sam’s head, Clara wrinkled her nose and smirked before she turned her attention back to Sam. “Why don’t you and I go downstairs, have some coffee, and we’ll chat about the position alone, instead?”
Catching the mutinous tilt to Sam’s chin even before a single word escaped her lips, Clara tightened her grip on the hand she had yet to release and proceeded to drag the shorter woman out of the office with surprising strength.
“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.”
As Clara tugged Sam out of the office door, Sam cast a helpless look over her shoulder. Sadly, Lizzy was unable to receive the full force of Sam’s expertly and carefully honed puppy dog eyes as the other woman was staring fixedly at her monitor. Apparently, the woman was also silently laughing her ass off, if those shaking shoulders were any indication.
Standing slack-jawed behind Lizzy’s desk, however, was easily the most sinfully handsome man Sam had ever seen. She only caught the briefest glimpse before the office door swung closed behind her, but it was enough for her to register the man’s sheer, masculine beauty, height and strength—and sadly, he was the misogynistic jerkface masquerading as the CEO of a Fortune 500 company.
Sam felt a thrill deep inside of her body as she met his brilliant green eyes, one she chalked up as satisfaction at getting one over on the big, way-too-damned-sexy asshole, and before the door slammed shut, she gave in to temptation.
Sam stuck out her tongue and cackled wickedly.