Sage rose from her chair, braced her palms on her desktop and leaned forward. Had Amelia lost her mind? “Did you not hear a word I just said? The man threatened to come after Stiletto.”
“Well...” Her assistant hedged, tilting her head to one side.
“Well, what?” Sage snapped. She fisted her hands on her hips waiting to hear what possible explanation the young woman could conjure up to justify the man’s insufferable behavior.
“You did tell him to ‘bring it,’” Amelia said. “And knowing you as I do, I’m sure it was more like a barked command.”
“Me?” Sage asked incredulously. Her knuckles dug deeper into her sides. “All I did was show up for a lunch meeting, which I should add, you wouldn’t give me a moment’s peace about until I agreed to go.”
Her assistant held her hands up. “Hold on, General,” she said. “I certainly didn’t mean for you to march downtown and purposely provoke him.”
Sage plopped down in her office chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “He was the one provoking me.”
“You aren’t one of the richest people in town.”
“Please, don’t mention money.” Sage rolled her eyes toward the beams and pipes stretching across the ceiling of the former factory that housed Stiletto’s headquarters as well as several other businesses. “He was tossing out dollars like a freak in a strip club.”
Amelia laughed and then stopped abruptly. She narrowed her eyes. “So exactly how much was his offer to buy Stiletto?”
“That would fall under the category of none of your business.”
“How about a ballpark figure?” The teen shrugged. “You turned him down anyway. What difference does it make?”
Sage thought it over a moment. It wasn’t as if Amelia would spread it around the office. She could be a loopy romantic, but she was as discreet as she was efficient.
“Let’s just say it was a couple of ballparks.”
“And you didn’t take the deal?”
“Of course, not. Stiletto isn’t for sale,” Sage said. “And you weren’t there. He was condescending and...” Her voice trailed off as the sound of his easy baritone came back to her. Deep, rich and melodic. It made her want him to eat dessert in bed with him, naked.
“And what?” Amelia raised a brow.
“H-he was just so smug,” Sage stammered over the words.
A slow smile spread over her assistant’s lips. “And what else?”
“O-overbearing, insufferable, overconfident...” Again, her reaction to him at lunch waylaid her train of thought, and she automatically rubbed the spot where their hands had accidentally brushed.
“Interesting.” The young woman’s eyes widened as if she’d just been told a secret, and the smile on her face morphed into a full-fledged grin. “He sounds an awful lot like someone else I know.”
“What are you grinning at?” Sage snapped. “Stop it.”
Instead, Amelia narrowed her gaze. She made a few hmm and mmm sounds as she looked her up and down.
Sage squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. “What on earth is the matter with you?”
The young woman ignored the question, continuing her examination. “Cheeks flushed. Eyes glazed over. You’re practically glowing,” she said, making Sage feel as though she was in a doctor’s office instead of her own. “And notice how you were all breathless and stammering when you talked about Mr. Sinclair.”
Amelia nodded her head knowingly as if she already had the answer to her own question. “Not in a million years did I think I’d be saying this to you, but you look exactly like a smitten heroine in one of my romance novels.”
Although she was immune to them, Sage gave her assistant a laser-beam side eye. “I’m acting insulted and extremely annoyed...because I am.”
However, Sage didn’t know who she was more pissed at, the man with the bedroom voice who believed he could run her business better than she, or herself for even having considered a date with him.
“If you say so.”
“I do say so,” Sage insisted, remembering his last words to her and the excessive confidence with which he’d delivered them.
I intend to bring it all right. I just hope you can handle it.
His declaration had come off as a double entendre. She’d caught both the all-business challenge and the sensual promise. Sage only wished there was a way for her to show him he’d taunted the wrong woman and wipe the smug smile off his handsome face.
Oblivious, Amelia exhaled a dreamy sigh filled with youthful naïveté. “I think Mr. Sinclair made quite the impression on you.”
Sage’s stomach growled, reminding her she still hadn’t had lunch. “He made me so mad, I didn’t even eat...”
The words died on her lips as an idea hit her.
Not just an idea, a maneuver so outrageous it would make Cole Sinclair think twice about underestimating her again. But you couldn’t, she thought. You wouldn’t dare go through with it.
Oh, yes, I would.
Her assistant waved a hand in front of her face, and Sage blinked. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. I was trying to tell you...” Amelia paused, then frowned. “Uh-oh. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Sage feigned cluelessness. “Whatever do you mean?”
“It looks like you just sprouted devil horns on your head. The only thing missing is the diabolical laugh.”
Her decision made, Sage slapped her palms against her desk and stood. Time to rally the troops. “I want you to add fifty additional beauty bloggers to the invitation list for our Valentine’s Day’s event,” she said. “We’re going to make it even bigger and even better.”
“Will do.”
She watched her assistant make the notation. “Then send Joe Archer from advertising into my office. I’ve got a job for him,” Sage said. “I’m about to teach Mr. Sinclair a lesson he won’t soon forget.”
Amelia shook her head. “Sounds like you’ve already made him angry. I really don’t think you should provoke him any further.”
“Never mind what you think. Just get Archer in here.”
Her assistant heaved an exaggerated sigh. “All right, I’ll do as you ordered, General. I just hope you don’t start the battle of the Nashville cosmetic companies.”
So what if she did? Sage thought. The man had made it clear he intended to bring it. She was simply firing the first salvo, because the best defense was a good offense.
Her only regret was that she wouldn’t be there to see the look on Sinclair’s face.
A week after their disastrous lunch, Sage Matthews remained on Cole’s mind. His thoughts bounced from those sexy, shapely legs to that sassy mouth of hers painted the hottest shade of red he’d ever seen.
“Mr. Sinclair?”
Cole blinked, the sound of his name dragging him back to reality. Damn, he’d done it again.
And again, he told himself he was only pondering his next step to persuade the woman to sell her business.
“Sorry,