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.”
“The damned thing won’t stop growing.” He pulled out one file folder, closed that drawer and opened another one. “Two years ago, when Sonia gave it to me for Christmas, it was in a six-inch pot.”
“Have you considered feeding it less?”
“I don’t feed it. Sonia does, though I’ve never caught her at it. She won’t let me get rid of it.”
The Iceman’s assistant wouldn’t let him get rid of a plant? Claire accepted the stack of files he held out. “I think it’s massing for an assault. You’d better be careful. Your desk is only a few feet away.”
He smiled. And her knees went weak. “It’s pretty fast as vegetation goes, but as a member in good standing of the animal kingdom, I’m faster. I think I can evade any sneak attacks.”
“Yes, of course.” And she was an idiot, chattering about the man’s plant and trying to keep from panting. Or grabbing him. What was wrong with her? She smoothed out her expression. “If you’ll show me to my office, I’ll start reading.”
“This way.” He moved to the opposite wall, where a door was nearly hidden in the elaborate wainscoting. “Pay particular attention to everything relating to the Stellar Security deal. I’ll be needing a report on one of the participants as soon as possible.”
She followed him into the adjoining office—and stopped dead.
There was a bed in the room. Well, in one section of a very long room, the half that wasn’t office. There was also a television, easy chairs and other furniture, with a tiny kitchenette tucked in one corner.
The other corner held the bed.
“Unfortunately my secretary is ill,” he was saying. “So— What’s wrong?”
“I, ah, hadn’t realized that my living quarters and my office were going to be one and the same.”
“I had this room converted when Sonia’s arthritis made using the stairs difficult. Is there a problem with it?”
“Oh, no. No problem. I was just surprised. It’s a pleasant room, actually. In a green sort of way.”
And it was, on both sides of the divider. The ten-by-twelve-foot office area held an L-shaped desk with the usual computer paraphernalia, a bright green swivel chair, a visitor’s chair, file cabinets, a bookcase and floor-to-ceiling shelves. And what looked like a couple hundred plants.
African violets basked under a special light in the shelves; several varieties of ferns snuggled into one corner, nearly hiding the bookcase. A ficus competed with a small palm and some other tropical plant for space in front of the window, while more plants that she couldn’t identify occupied every bare spot on the desk, shelves and bookcase. A relative of the ivy in West’s office was trying valiantly to cover the latticed screen that separated the office section from the bed/sitting room.
Claire shook her head wonderingly. “Sonia asked me to look after her plants while I was here. She didn’t mention that she lives in a jungle.”
“Sonia likes plants.”
“So I see. I suppose you have to count yourself lucky she’s only given you one.”
“I threatened to spray her room with weed killer if she did it again.”