Jacob's Proposal. Eileen Wilks

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than a signed contract from most men.

      One of West’s eccentricities was that he didn’t have an office. He lived and worked here, in the huge old house his grandfather had built, and he insisted that his immediate staff live here, too. So here Claire was, for now. She was replacing her friend Sonia, who’d flown to Georgia to pamper her daughter and spoil her brand-new grandbaby for a month or two.

      Normally, Claire wouldn’t have accepted a job that took her away from home and the business she’d been building, not even for a chance to work with a wizard like West. After putting in her time in the investment department of a large bank, last year Claire had moved out on her own as an investment analyst, specializing in reports to and about midsize companies. She loved it. Dissecting and interpreting a dry financial report appealed to the tidy part of her nature—not surprising in a woman who organized her closet by color, style and season.

      But the part of her work that excited her, the part she truly loved, was digging for the hidden gold or buried secrets that made or ruined an investment. Claire might be as tidy as a cat about some things but, like a cat, she enjoyed the hunt. And she liked to win.

      So far, she’d won often enough to keep her head above water, but building a clientele took time. The salary she would earn from Jacob West wouldn’t hurt her personal financial picture, she admitted.

      But that wasn’t why she’d taken the job. Not the biggest reason, anyway. More important was that she would be living here. According to Sonia, the West mansion had an excellent security system.

      Things weren’t normal now. Not since she’d gotten Ken’s letter.

      Claire shivered and stuffed her brush back in her purse. To distract herself, she wandered over to the huge Christmas tree. It was impressive, a decorator’s delight, covered in old-fashioned ornaments. Impressive and lovely…and rather cold, she thought.

      “Sorry I took so long.” Ada’s voice came from the arched entry to another hallway, startling Claire. “I made the mistake of checking on Cosmo. Never was a man yet who didn’t think he was dying whenever he catches some little bug.”

      “Cosmo—?” Claire started to ask who that was, but the little woman had already spun around.

      “Come on.” Ada hurried briskly down the hall without looking to see if Claire was following. “He’s probably finished talking to Rome by now. And if not, he should be.”

      Bemused, Claire followed. The housekeeper stopped in front of the first door on the left, knocked once, then shoved it open. “She’s here,” Ada announced. “You owe me twenty.”

      Claire reminded herself that she’d been Sonia’s choice for the position, and Sonia knew her background. Probably she’d told Jacob West about it…and if not, no doubt he would recognize her. A lot of people did. Even after six years, people often took one look at her and remembered the gossip, the scandal and the trial.

      Taking a deep, steadying breath, Claire stepped into Jacob West’s office. She had a quick, vague impression of wood—an enormous wooden desk, carved wooden wainscoting, cabinets of some kind.

      Mostly, though, she noticed the man.

      Power. That was her first, overwhelming impression. The physical details filtered through that aura of power. Jacob West was a hard man, dark-haired and harsh-featured, with a lean, strong body clothed in custom-tailored trousers and a crisp dress shirt. He was also tall, she realized when he stood up behind his desk. She was five foot nine, and he stood at least six inches taller.

      He nodded at Claire, but spoke to his housekeeper. “The bet was for ten o’clock. It’s twelve minutes after.”

      “She got here before ten. Pulled up in the driveway at five minutes till, but you were on the phone.” She held out her hand, wiggling the fingers. “Pay up.”

      “Why don’t we let it ride? Double or nothing that you won’t follow the doctor’s orders this afternoon and nap.”

      Ada snorted. “You won’t get me that easy. Pay up.”

      The glimmer in those icy eyes might have been anger, or amusement, or even fondness. Impossible to tell. He pulled out a money clip and peeled off a bill. Ada took it, tucked it into her apron pocket and trotted for the door.

      She paused long enough to say, “Lunch is at one. Burritos. Don’t let Jacob push you around. The boy has things too much his way, too much of the time.”

      The door closed behind her with a firm click.

      “Well.” Claire couldn’t keep from smiling. “Sonia told me I would like Ada. I think she was right.”

      The trace of emotion that had lived in his face when he spoke to his housekeeper left when she did. He looked directly at Claire.

      Such odd eyes, she thought. The color of a cloudy winter sky, neither blue nor gray, and very pale, fringed by lashes as dark as his hair. Pale, sexy, cold…at first.

      It wasn’t recognition she saw in his eyes. It was heat, rich and dark and starkly sexual.

      He hid the reaction quickly, so she ignored it, crossing to him and holding out her hand. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Mr. West.”

      His hand was hard and warm and slightly callused—and heat licked up her spine, followed by the quick, sharp bite of panic. Dammit, of all the times for her hormones to kick in—! She’d handle it, she assured herself as she dropped his hand a little too quickly. She wasn’t a wild kid anymore.

      “Sonia speaks highly of you.” His voice was as cool and contained as his expression. “I’m glad you were able to accept my offer. I intend to make the fullest use of your talents.”

      “Good. I hope to learn a lot from you while I’m here.”

      “Perhaps you will,” he murmured, and moved away from the desk. “I’ll put you to work as soon as possible, but you’ll need to familiarize yourself with some of my projects first.”

      The file cabinet he went to was one of four lined up neatly against one wall. Instead of the usual gray or beige metal, though, these were made from the same rich cherry wood as his desk.

      All in all, West’s office was more manor house than castle or mansion, she decided. Beautiful, expensive, with a restrained elegance.

      Rather like the man. Not that he was beautiful, not with those harsh features, but he did have a certain elegance. Funny. She hadn’t thought power and elegance had much in common, but when she looked at him…

      Sternly Claire brought her thoughts back to business. “You want me to read up on your current projects before I tackle anything concrete?”

      “Yes.” He brushed aside a dangling stem and unlocked the top drawer in one cabinet.

      The stem he’d pushed aside belonged to an ivy. Not any ordinary ivy, however. This one sprawled across the tops of all four file cabinets like an invading army. Having claimed its immediate territory, the plant now had designs on the floor, judging by the way tendrils snaked down here and there.

      A single red Christmas ball dangled from one of those tendrils. She smiled. “Don’t look now, but I think your ivy has eaten your files.”

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