Make Me Want: A sexy romance book about friends with benefits. Perfect for fans of Fifty Shades Freed. Katee Robert. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Katee Robert
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474071147
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called. He’d answered. It was as simple as that.

      The law office of Parker and Jones was the same as it had been the last time he’d walked through the doors. The small army of defense attorneys took on mostly white-collar crimes—specifically the ones that paid well—and that showed in every element of the interior. Soothing colors and bold lines projected confidence and created a calming effect.

      Pale blue walls and good lines didn’t do a single damn thing to dial back the pressure building in his chest with each step.

      He usually didn’t contract out with law offices. As a headhunter, Gideon preferred to stick to tech companies, various start-up corporations or, literally, anyone except lawyers. They were too controlling and wanted their hands on every detail, every step of the way. It was a pain in the ass.

      This is for Lucy.

      He kept his expression schooled on the elevator ride up. When he’d known her, she was somewhere around floor six, proving herself by working cases not big enough for the lawyers with seniority to want but that were too big to turn down. Now she was on floor nineteen, only a couple below Parker and Jones themselves. She’d done well for herself in the two years since he’d seen her last. Really well.

      The elevator opened into a large waiting room that didn’t look anything like an actual waiting room. The more money people had, the more care was required in handling them, and the coffee bar and scattering of couches and trade magazines reflected that. The hallway was guarded by a large desk and an older woman with tasteful gray shot through her dark hair. Surprising. He’d expected a bottle-blond receptionist—or perhaps a brunette if they were feeling adventurous.

      But then the woman looked up and he got the impression of a general surveying her domain. Ah. They’d chosen someone who couldn’t be bulldozed, if he didn’t miss his guess. Useful to keep unruly clients in line.

      Gideon stopped in front of the desk and did his best to appear nonthreatening. “I’m here to see Lucy Baudin.”

      “She’s expecting you.” She turned back to her computer, effectively dismissing him.

      He spent half a second wondering at her qualifications—and if she was amiable to being poached for a different company—before he set it aside. Stepping on Lucy’s toes by stealing her receptionist wasn’t a good way to start off this meeting.

      He’d spent the last week trying to figure out why the hell Lucy would seek him out. New York was rife with headhunters. Gideon was good—better than good—but considering their history, there had to be someone better suited for the job.

      You could have said no.

      Yeah, he could have.

      But he owed Lucy Baudin. A single meeting wasn’t much in the face of the fact that he’d more or less single-handedly brought her engagement down in flames.

      He knocked on the dark wooden door as he opened it. The office was bright and airy, big windows overlooking New York, the only furniture a large L-shaped desk and two comfortable-looking chairs arranged in front of it. Gideon took in the room in a single sweep and then focused on the woman behind the desk.

      Lucy sat straight, her narrow shoulders tense, as if she was about to step onto a battlefield. Her long dark hair was pinned back into some style that looked effortless but probably took a significant amount of time to accomplish. She raised her pointed chin, which drew his attention to her mouth. Lucy’s features were a little too sharp to pass for traditional beauty—she would have made a killing on a runway—but her mouth was full and generous and had always been inclined to smile.

      There were no smiles today.

      “Lucy.” He shut the door behind him, holding his place to let her guide the interaction. She was the one who’d called him here. It didn’t feel natural to take his lead from someone else, but for her he’d make an effort.

      At least until he heard her out.

      “Gideon. Sit, please.” She motioned at the chairs in front of the desk.

      Maybe she could pretend this was like any other job interview, but he couldn’t stop staring at her. She wore a dark gray dress that set off her pale skin and dark hair, leaving the only color present in her blue eyes and red lips. It created a striking picture. The woman was a goddamn gift. She always had been.

      Jeff, you fucked things up beyond all recognition when you threw her away.

      Focus.

      She hadn’t arranged this meeting because of their past. If she could be professional, then he’d manage, as well. It was the least he could do.

      Gideon sank into the chair and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “You said this was about a job.”

      “Yes.” A faint blush colored her pale cheeks, highlighting the smattering of freckles there. “This is confidential, of course.”

      It wasn’t quite a question, but he answered it anyway. “I didn’t put together a nondisclosure, but I can do that if you need to make it official.”

      “That won’t be necessary. Your word that it stays between us will be enough.”

      Curiosity curled through him. He’d had clients insist on confidentiality in the past—it was more the rule than the exception—but this felt different. He set the thought aside and focused on the job. “It would help if you’d describe the position you want filled. It gives me a general idea of what you’re looking for, and we can narrow it down from there.”

      She met his gaze directly, her blue eyes startling. “The position I need filled is a husband.”

      Gideon shook his head, sure he’d heard her wrong. “Excuse me?”

      “A husband.” She held up her left hand and wiggled her ring finger. “Before you get that look on your face, let me explain.”

      He didn’t have any look on his face. A husband. Where the fuck does she think I’m going to find a husband? He opened his mouth to ask exactly that, but Lucy beat him there. “The timing isn’t ideal, but gossip has come down the grapevine that I’m being considered for partner at the end of the year. While that would normally be a cause for celebration, some of the old guard have very strong beliefs about single women.” She rolled her eyes, the first Lucy thing he’d seen her do since he’d arrived. “It would be laughable if it wasn’t standing in the way of what I want, but I watched Georgia get passed over for a promotion last year for this exact reason. She wouldn’t bend and they chose her male competition instead.”

      She was dead serious.

      Gideon took a breath, trying to approach this logically. Obviously she’d put a lot of thought into the idea, and if she was misguided, that didn’t mean he had to verbally slap her down. This Lucy, put-together and in control, was a far cry from when he’d seen her last, sobbing and broken. But that didn’t change the fact that they were one and the same. He could handle this calmly and get her to see reason.

      But calm and reasonable wasn’t what came out of his mouth. “Are you out of your goddamn mind, Lucy? I’m a headhunter—not a matchmaker. Even if I was, getting married to secure a promotion is bullshit.”

      “Is it?” She shrugged. “People get married for much less valid reasons. I almost married for love before, and we both know how that ended. There’s nothing wrong with handling marriage like a business arrangement—plenty of cultures do exactly that.”

      “We aren’t talking about other cultures. We’re talking about you.”

      Another shrug. As if it didn’t matter to her one way or another. He loathed that feigned indifference, but he didn’t have a goddamn right to challenge her on it.

      She met his gaze directly. “This is important to me, Gideon. I don’t know about kids—I love my job, and having babies would potentially interfere with that—but I’m lonely. It wouldn’t be so bad to have someone to come home to, even if it wasn’t a love for