The Charmer’s Gambit Read online

  My teeth were clenched too tightly to verbalize a response, so I simply nodded. I could not believe this was happening. Will Mershano was going to win. What a great way to start a business relationship, with me saying no and him forcing me to comply anyway.

  This was why I hated wealthy men. They always won in the end and didn’t care who they hurt in the process.

  “That sounds amenable to me,” Will murmured. “When your team draws up the formal proposal, I would like those terms included.”

  “Of course,” Jeff replied as he switched presentations on his computer to a financial report screen. I tried to listen while he reviewed the proposed hourly rates and general project-resource needs, but a roaring sound had taken over in my head. I’d gotten so caught up in Will’s game of cat and mouse that I never considered he would take it to this level.

  You were starting to trust him, my conscience accused. A stupid thing to do considering my history. I just never thought he’d go over my head and force my hand. Yet here we were, sitting in a conference room while my fate was decided for me. Ryan already dictated my personal life, and now Will would own my professional world. Where did that leave me?

  By the time our meeting ended, my blood was boiling. I wanted to punch something, preferably the arrogant son of a bitch standing beside me, but my employers would frown upon that. When he reached out to shake my hand, I squeezed a little too hard and gave him a tight smile. I thought a hint of concern deepened his brown eyes, but it was gone in a flash as he focused on Jeff’s inquiry regarding lunch.

  “Sure,” he replied.

  As they started to discuss lunch location prospects, I politely excused myself. The meeting was only on my calendar until noon, and it was half past that already. I murmured something to Janet about needing to finish a contract by the end of the day—which wasn’t a lie—and she let me go with a pleased grin.

  I didn’t bother saying goodbye to our “future client.” He could eat dirt as far as I was concerned. Besides, I’d be seeing more than enough of him over the coming months. If he thought I’d be thankful or cheery about that, then he had another thing coming.

  Will Mershano was about to meet a whole new side of me. And he wouldn’t like her one bit.

  4

  Familiar Ringtones

  I threw myself into work mode the moment I entered my office. There was too much to do, and thinking about this morning’s meeting made me want to vomit. Reviewing contracts always put my mind at ease because it forced me to focus. I was on the second to last page when someone knocked on the door. Unlike the top floor, mine was made of wood and not glass, so I couldn’t see my intruder.

  With a sigh, I sat back in my chair and called, “Come in.”

  Will Fucking Mershano entered in that carefree way of his, holding a plastic bag in one hand and a drink in the other.

  “Lunch?” he asked as he closed the door with his foot. He had lost his jacket and tie somewhere and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to expose his muscular forearms. My damn hormones did a little jig at the walking male advertisement, while my eyes narrowed.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” The words escaped me before I could swallow them. His brow dipped down, which only further infuriated me. “You couldn’t even give me a few hours of peace after forcing my hand? Unbelievable.”

  He set the items down on my desk and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “Not the reception I expected—”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” I stood up to be more on his level. He still had half a foot on me, but it was better than looking up at him from my desk. “Do you want me to fawn all over you now? Say how thankful I am that you don’t understand the word no? My bad, Will. Thank you for forcing me to work for you after I repeatedly said I didn’t want to. I truly appreciate it. Is that better?”

  His eyebrows hit his hairline. “Okay, you have this all wrong—”

  “Do I?” I stepped into his personal space and hit him with my best glare. “Did you not just open negotiations with my firm to hire them? All so you can force me to work with you? Because you know I’ll have no choice. It’s either I accept the project or forfeit my career, especially after you so beautifully brought up how we met. You do realize law firms frown upon their employees taking on pro bono work for friends, right? Of course you do; who am I kidding? Is this how you win all your games? By backing women into corners they can’t fight from?”

  My tone was semi-hysterical by the end, but I didn’t care. After Ryan’s surprise visit, and now this, it was a miracle I could formulate words. Fury and fear fought for control inside of me, and right now the former was winning.

  Will said nothing for a long moment, his dark eyes clouded by shock and an emotion I didn’t recognize. Regret, maybe? No. That couldn’t be. Men like him didn’t understand the meaning of the term, let alone feel it.

  “Are you done yelling at me?” he asked, voice soft.

  “Probably not.” I folded my arms and ignored the heat radiating from where they brushed against his abdomen. Maybe standing this close to him was a bad idea, but I refused to let him intimidate me.

  “Your reasons for not wanting to work with me on this project were that you didn’t want to move to North Carolina or leave Baker Brown. And, although you didn’t quite admit it, I’ve gathered that you don’t want to work directly for me. Did I capture all that correctly?”

  “Okay, so it’s not a hearing issue; it’s just you misunderstanding the word no.” We’d discussed this enough that he knew his summary was accurate. Why confirm it?

  “By hiring your firm, I have agreed to all of your terms. You don’t have to move, you will continue to work for Baker Brown, and you will not be reporting to me as your direct supervisor. What am I missing?” Genuine frustration colored his tone, causing me to blink. I expected a smirk or a backhanded statement about how I should be grateful, or something manipulative. Not this logical explanation.

  “But you’re still forcing my hand.”

  “In what capacity?”

  “Hiring Baker Brown under the pretense of working with me leaves me with no choice but to accept the project, or they’ll fire me. Hence, you win. Because I need my job.”

  He studied me intently before releasing a long, drawn-out sigh. His fingers raked through his thick blond hair before trailing down to palm the back of his neck. The carefree man seemed to have disappeared behind a veil of uncertainty. That’s new.

  “Rachel, I only approached your firm because I considered it a win-win scenario. It met your requirements and granted me the opportunity to work with you. If you truly despise the prospect of helping me with the project this much, then I’ll walk away. It was never my intention to force you to accept this position.”

  All my fury and hurt dissipated into a cloud of confusion. “You would turn down the proposal?”

  “Yes.” No hesitation. “Or, with your permission, I would accept and work with a partner as they suggested.”

  “With my permission?”

  “Yes. And since my admitting how we met could be an issue for you at Baker Brown—something that I didn’t know would be a problem, by the way—then I’d recommend this route, if that’s what you want.” Uncertainty and a touch of chagrin touched his gaze, and his voice lowered.

  “Rachel, for what it’s worth, I would never purposely jeopardize your employment. I really do respect what you do, which was why I mentioned our history and also why I want to work together. I would never intentionally corner you, even if it has come off that way.”

  I blinked. Will never did what I anticipated, and this was no exception. He floored me at every turn. I recounted the meeting from this morning and the moment I’d let fury take over. His high-handedness reminded me of Ryan, except his intentions were entirely different. While my ex-fiancé strived to control me, Will only wanted the opportunity to work with me. Despite his flirty nature, he’d yet to initiate a relationship.

  Had I gotten this all wrong? Did he
do all this to hire me rather than to sleep with me? It was the opportunity of a lifetime, not to mention a fantastic way to impress the partners. If I did well on his project—which I would—I’d be a prime candidate for an early promotion. And the bonus I would get in leading this project would handsomely increase my salary for the year.

  “Look, I won’t have the proposal until tomorrow or Wednesday. And I can ask for the weekend to think on it, which gives you a week to let me know how you want me to respond.” The somber note in his voice wiped away all traces of his Southern drawl. Not that I’d heard much of it today. His accent only seemed to come out during playful moments, leaving me to wonder whether it was intentional or an indicator of comfort with his audience. Did that mean I no longer made him comfortable?

  My phone dinged with a chime I hadn’t heard in months. A cool breeze swept down my spine.

  Ryan.

  When it pinged again, I cringed. I blocked his number once. It ended with him showing up unexpectedly at my office. Why did he choose now of all times to reenter my life?

  I walked around my desk without a word to look at his messages.

  My assistant made reservations for us at Provinos for 8 tonight. I’ll pick you up at 7:30. x

  The next message had my free hand curling into a fist at my side.

  Wear something appropriate. You know what I like, baby. x

  “Everything all right?” Will asked, reminding me of his presence.

  I swallowed and flipped the mobile over. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” I had to shake my head to clear it. “I’m sorry. I’ve completely lost my train of thought. What were you saying?”

  Concern seeped into his expression as he looked me over. “I said I could stall the agreement for a week. Are you sure you’re all right?” His dark eyes went to the phone, then back to my face.

  “Yeah, it’s nothing.” Just my ex-fiancé acting like we’re together again. “What are you doing tonight?”

  His eyebrows crept up his forehead. “I need to make a few calls, but otherwise, I have no plans. Why?”

  “How much information did you bring to Chicago? About the acquisition, I mean.”

  “Almost everything is on my laptop, so I have the majority of it with me.”

  I bit my lip to keep the words from spilling from my mouth. If I said them, there would be no taking them back. I chewed on my tongue, thinking through my options, and eventually sighed. My mind was made up when I realized I’d blown this morning’s meeting out of proportion and nearly chased away one of the best opportunities to ever reach my desk. There was only one thing left to do.

  “I’d like to review it with you to get a head start, but I’ll need permission first. It’s not a typical situation, but we’re already behind, and I’ll need to pull several all-nighters as it is to catch up, so they should be agreeable. But you’re not technically a client yet, so that could pose an issue.” I stopped rambling as all the air left my lungs. Holy hell, he has a fantastic smile. It creased at the sides, creating a pair of adorable dimples that could captivate a room. I hadn’t realized I’d missed it until it appeared again. Frowning did not suit Will Mershano, but smiling? Oh, that suited him just fine.

  “You’re saying yes.” Not a question, but a statement.

  “Yes.”

  Somehow his happiness seemed to increase a notch. “Oh, how I’ve longed to hear that word cross your lips.”

  I rolled my eyes but felt my mouth curling in amusement. “Don’t get used to it, Mershano.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’.” That devilish glint returned to his gaze. “I’ll call Janet to expedite the contract and see if I can’t sweet-talk my way into starting early. What time should I come over?”

  I looked at my phone, my grin slipping. “Uh.” I paused to clear the frog from my throat. “Yeah, let’s meet at your hotel instead. I assume you’re staying at Mershano Suites off Michigan Avenue?”

  “My cousin would kill me if I didn’t.”

  “Right.” Another message sounded from the mobile, solidifying my resolve. “I’ll be there at seven.”

  5

  French Flirtation

  I texted Ryan the excuse of having to work tonight, and he never replied. Experience told me that wasn’t a good sign, so I went straight to Mershano Suites instead of stopping by my apartment, which left me dressed in my skirt suit and carrying my laptop bag.

  I planned to phone Will when I arrived, but it wasn’t needed. He stood at the bar just off the ornate lobby, chatting with three women in dresses that hugged every curve and displayed their long, shapely legs. Two brunettes and a blonde. It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke, which he apparently found amusing, because I could hear his warm chuckle from the hotel entrance. Manicured fingers danced over his button-down shirt as I approached, darkening my already sour mood.

  Catching my gaze—or more accurately, my glare—the millionaire playboy grinned. “My apologies, ladies, but my seven o’clock just arrived. Thank you for entertaining me while I waited.”

  Three sets of female eyes turned to look me over, all of them narrowing in annoyance, as Will finished his glass of wine. He signaled for the bartender, who ran over to greet him.

  “Yes, Mister Mershano?”

  “Please charge this to my room, as well as anything these lovely ladies desire for the evening.” He flashed his dimples at the lovely ladies, which transformed their severe expressions into ones of adoration. I rolled my eyes.

  “Are you sure you can’t stay?” Blondie trailed her red nails down the buttons of his shirt to his belt, where he caught her wrist and brought it up to his lips.

  “Another time, darlin’.” He murmured, his dark eyes on mine as he nipped the woman’s palm and dropped it. “Enjoy your evening, loves.”

  The women around him seemed to sigh as a collective unit as he pushed away from the bar. If he heard them, he didn’t acknowledge it, just kept his burning gaze on mine as he sauntered up to my side.

  “We can reschedule if you have other things to do,” I said by way of greeting. “Or should I change that to ‘people’?”

  Laughter stared down at me. “My only plans tonight are with you, darlin’. Shall we go upstairs?”

  “You sure you don’t want to invite your new friends?” They seemed to be mourning his loss and planning my untimely demise.

  “Maybe later.” He tugged the bag from my arm and slipped it over his shoulder. I opened my mouth to inform him I could carry it myself, but my throat constricted around the words.

  He nodded his head toward the elevator bay in a follow me gesture and led the way while I trailed along behind him.

  Maybe later. Those two words were a kick to the stomach and weighed heavily on my thoughts as we headed up to his room.

  Why do I care? Will had every right to play the field and probably did frequently. As a wealthy, handsome bachelor, he likely attracted countless conquests, hence the harem at the bar.

  This just happened to be the first time I saw him hitting on a woman other than me, which meant my earlier thoughts about his flirtation being harmless were right. The man didn’t need to offer a woman a job in exchange for some midnight company. A little bit of wine and his charming self did the trick just fine. I’d seen the look in their eyes; all three of those women would have accompanied him upstairs if he asked.

  To live a life of leisure . . . That thought took on a whole new meaning when Will opened the door to his presidential suite. Not the penthouse, but pretty damn close.

  “Holy wow,” I breathed, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Lake Michigan. I slipped out of my shoes, leaving them by the door, and padded over to admire the view. The lake glistened in the evening sun, taking on an endless appeal that stole the air from my lungs. I loved this city, but sometimes it suffocated me. This view reminded me of the world beyond it, giving me a sense of hope.

  Will’s reflection appeared in the window as he wandered up behind me with two glasses
of wine. I considered refusing on principle, but I loved a good red. Besides, it’d been a long few days and I could use the drink. “Cabernet Sauvignon?”

  “Yes, with black cherry notes and a splash of plum.”

  I shook my head as I turned to accept a glass. “A simple yes would suffice.”

  “What would be the fun in that?” He tapped his drink against mine. “To new partnerships.”

  Sure. “Cheers.” I took a sip and fought a moan. Dear God, the man knew his wine. “This is delicious.”

  “I know.”

  I grinned over the rim at him. “Cocky.”

  “I prefer ‘confident.’ ” He took another sip, eyes smoldering as they danced over me. “Did Janet follow up with you about getting started?”

  “She called me around six to say I could do a preliminary review of the materials, but that’s it.” Until he signed on the dotted line, I couldn’t offer any legal advice or start researching on his behalf, but I was allowed to look over whatever documents he wanted to share.

  He gestured toward the living area I ignored in favor of the view. It was twice the size of my apartment’s common room and had a full kitchen off to the side that overlooked a dining area with a table set for eight. A hallway trailed off to the right, leading to a few bedrooms and bathrooms.

  I folded my legs under me on the oversized couch while he took the chair and swapped his wine for a laptop. He hadn’t changed out of his business attire yet, leaving him in black slacks and the same white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows.

  His exposed forearms flexed as he typed, alluding to the ample muscle beneath his clothes. Those long legs were all strength, and the way his belt cinched around his lean waist suggested his familiarity with the gym. Or maybe he acquired his figure after long hours at the vineyard. He had the hands of a man who worked hard, not that of an aristocrat. I noticed that the first day we met. His palm had felt rough and masculine against mine, not soft and satiny. It didn’t match the charming persona, or the entitlement attached to his last name.