righteous anger and buzzing from the two shots of bourbon he’d downed in the airport bar before takeoff.
The plan was simple. He would breeze into Paris and whisk the vixen with her long legs and wickedly beautiful eyes back to his hotel room, where he could douse the fire of his desire by burying himself between those legs.
Winning the bet with Ben would not be his primary objective. Hell, he’d already won, though Ben would want proof before he parted with one red cent. But the money wasn’t the problem either. Ben was right. Helmut could easily afford to take a year—or five—off. His finances were secure.
The biggest irony of this whole affair was that he spent money on women because he had so little else in his life to spend it on. And even lavishing his dates with expensive dinners and weekend getaways didn’t amount to much of a dent in his wallet.
With most of the women he’d dated over the past ten years, the passion was short-lived. Quickly snuffed once he realized that he had nothing in common with them when their clothes were on. Even damned Juliana, his longest relationship in years, had only lasted a month before they parted.
And then Claire arrived on the scene. Beautiful. Sexy. Passionate. Intelligent. And a keen instinct for business.
When he stepped off the plane in Paris, he was greeted by Claire’s face on the national news, calmly smoothing over Helmut’s sudden departure from the company. Downplaying the inquiries into their Shadow Fly negotiations. His mistakes. Mistakes that could lose the company both the contract and the chance to bid on future work. Never once blaming, or insinuating, any guilt on Helmut’s part.
He could kick himself for being so stupid. When he pursued Juliana, he was thinking only of spending a little time with a beautiful woman. He should have known that the affair could jeopardize the negotiations.
Hell, he did know. He just didn’t give a damn at the time.
Helmut had been married to his job at Sheffield and Fox for as long as he could remember. Reporting for work, for him, was like coming home. It was comfortable. Safe. And lonely. Maybe he’d been tempting fate when he dated Juliana. Daring someone to call him on his juvenile behavior, and his blatant disregard for ethics.
He hadn’t expected that whistle-blower to be Claire. He hadn’t expected there to be a Claire in his life. In a little under two weeks, the woman had turned his life upside down and backwards.
He had ducked the reporters as best he could, and gave only the most banal answers when he couldn’t. His schedule for the week had been full when he was still an S&F employee. Arriving as a free agent had tripled the number of invitations, despite the looming investigation. He knew he had lots of friends in the industry. And it amused the hell out of him to be blatantly courted by his competitors. No, Sheffield & Fox’s competitors. Most of them were probably hoping that if they hired him, he’d bring a little insider knowledge with him. He couldn’t blame them for the assumption. He hadn’t exactly proven himself virtuous of late.
Helmut stalked to the mini bar and yanked the fridge door open. Wine, vodka, soda. Nothing appealed. He slammed the door shut again.
He should get out. Go for a run on a treadmill in the fitness center. Call a few of the guys for a night on the town. Knock on Claire’s door and beg her for mercy. She was everywhere, with her sexy laugh and her cool poise. She attracted flocks of men at every meet-and-greet. Executives, government officials, ridiculously rich playboys posing as potential investors. All vied for the chance to stand in her spotlight.
She was a contrast in silk and steel, youth and wisdom. She was irresistible.
The pounding in Helmut’s head was not a headache. It was his door.
It was Claire. Still wearing the slinky black dress, and barefoot. And wielding a cell phone like a butcher’s knife aimed at his heart.
“Where the hell do you
The plan was simple. He would breeze into Paris and whisk the vixen with her long legs and wickedly beautiful eyes back to his hotel room, where he could douse the fire of his desire by burying himself between those legs.
Winning the bet with Ben would not be his primary objective. Hell, he’d already won, though Ben would want proof before he parted with one red cent. But the money wasn’t the problem either. Ben was right. Helmut could easily afford to take a year—or five—off. His finances were secure.
The biggest irony of this whole affair was that he spent money on women because he had so little else in his life to spend it on. And even lavishing his dates with expensive dinners and weekend getaways didn’t amount to much of a dent in his wallet.
With most of the women he’d dated over the past ten years, the passion was short-lived. Quickly snuffed once he realized that he had nothing in common with them when their clothes were on. Even damned Juliana, his longest relationship in years, had only lasted a month before they parted.
And then Claire arrived on the scene. Beautiful. Sexy. Passionate. Intelligent. And a keen instinct for business.
When he stepped off the plane in Paris, he was greeted by Claire’s face on the national news, calmly smoothing over Helmut’s sudden departure from the company. Downplaying the inquiries into their Shadow Fly negotiations. His mistakes. Mistakes that could lose the company both the contract and the chance to bid on future work. Never once blaming, or insinuating, any guilt on Helmut’s part.
He could kick himself for being so stupid. When he pursued Juliana, he was thinking only of spending a little time with a beautiful woman. He should have known that the affair could jeopardize the negotiations.
Hell, he did know. He just didn’t give a damn at the time.
Helmut had been married to his job at Sheffield and Fox for as long as he could remember. Reporting for work, for him, was like coming home. It was comfortable. Safe. And lonely. Maybe he’d been tempting fate when he dated Juliana. Daring someone to call him on his juvenile behavior, and his blatant disregard for ethics.
He hadn’t expected that whistle-blower to be Claire. He hadn’t expected there to be a Claire in his life. In a little under two weeks, the woman had turned his life upside down and backwards.
He had ducked the reporters as best he could, and gave only the most banal answers when he couldn’t. His schedule for the week had been full when he was still an S&F employee. Arriving as a free agent had tripled the number of invitations, despite the looming investigation. He knew he had lots of friends in the industry. And it amused the hell out of him to be blatantly courted by his competitors. No, Sheffield & Fox’s competitors. Most of them were probably hoping that if they hired him, he’d bring a little insider knowledge with him. He couldn’t blame them for the assumption. He hadn’t exactly proven himself virtuous of late.
Helmut stalked to the mini bar and yanked the fridge door open. Wine, vodka, soda. Nothing appealed. He slammed the door shut again.
He should get out. Go for a run on a treadmill in the fitness center. Call a few of the guys for a night on the town. Knock on Claire’s door and beg her for mercy. She was everywhere, with her sexy laugh and her cool poise. She attracted flocks of men at every meet-and-greet. Executives, government officials, ridiculously rich playboys posing as potential investors. All vied for the chance to stand in her spotlight.
She was a contrast in silk and steel, youth and wisdom. She was irresistible.
The pounding in Helmut’s head was not a headache. It was his door.
It was Claire. Still wearing the slinky black dress, and barefoot. And wielding a cell phone like a butcher’s knife aimed at his heart.
“Where the hell do you
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