The Perfect Proposal (3 page)

His uncle shrugged and exhaled a long sigh.
“I wanted to give you a shot at it. After all, it is your heritage
we’re talking about here.”

“
But —” The doorbell rang,
cutting Mitch off mid-protest.

“
Hold that thought,” William
said. “I’ll be right back. Dora’s off today.”

Puzzled, Mitch frowned. His mind reeled. He’d
have to earn back his heritage? The company which had been in the
family for more than fifty years? Dumbfounded, he shook his head.
But it didn’t make sense. Briefly he wondered if perhaps his uncle
had become senile. He’d spoken with him at least twice a month,
sometimes more over the past few years. William had always seemed
lucid, but…

Who could possibly be more entitled to his
family’s company than himself?

“
Mitch,” William announced.
“I’d like you to meet Annie Witherspoon—your
competition.”

Distracted, Mitch looked up-into the deep
brown eyes that had haunted his dreams last night. He blinked, then
did a double take. But how? But why? What was she doing here?
Slowly his uncle’s last statement filtered through his fragmented
thoughts. Annie Witherspoon? Competition? Well, I’ll be damned, he
thought. Apparently she was thinking along similar lines, given the
brittle smile and death-ray glare she’d aimed in his direction.

Producing his own humorless grin, he stood
and extended his hand. “Ms. Witherspoon.”

Her small hand shook his. Mitch ignored the
current of awareness that buzzed through him at the brief contact.
“Mr. Hightower, I’ve heard a lot about you. It’s nice to finally
meet you.”

So that was the way she wanted to play it.
Repressing a grin, Mitch decided otherwise. He arched a confused
brow. “Haven’t we met somewhere before?” he queried innocently.

Fire sparked in her eyes. “No, I don’t think
that that we have.”

“
Funny,” Mitch mused,
purposely needling her. “You look awfully familiar.” He gave her a
lingering look and subtly appraised her from head to toe. His
survey had the desired effect, he noted, as he watched her face
color prettily. “Are you absolutely certain we haven’t
met?”

“
Quite certain,” she
snapped.

“
Well, now,” William
remarked, seemingly oblivious to the tension. “I’d planned to
discuss this with the two of you tomorrow, but since you’re both
here now, what do you say we get down to business?”

Annie nodded and gave William a genuine
smile. For an insane instant, Mitch felt almost jealous. “I’m
agreeable to that, Will.” Her brow wrinkled in concern. “Are you
sure you’re up to it?”

“
Certainly,” he assured her.
He ruffled her ponytail, eliciting another affectionate grin. “You
worry too much. What about you, Mitch?” his uncle asked. “Anything
important on your calendar today?”

“
Nothing that can’t wait,”
he replied.

His uncle nodded approvingly, then lowered
himself into the tufted leather seat behind his desk. Annie and
Mitch covertly glowered at each other and took the wing chairs on
the opposite side.

William steepled his fingers and began. “As
you both know, I’ve been in poor health since last year. Running
Hightower Advertising has been a rewarding career and I have
enjoyed every minute of it.” He smiled warmly. “However, the time
has come for me to step aside. If I’m going to enjoy my golden
years, I’d better get started.” He sighed. “When I made up my mind
that it was time to retire, naturally my first thought was of my
replacement—and there is the crux of my problem. This is a family
owned and operated business, always has been. “ He looked at Mitch.
“But Mitch, you’ve never really showed any interest in the firm,
having made your own fortune in computers.” Mitch shifted
uncomfortably in his chair. He recognized the truth in that
statement. “However,” William continued, “it would not be fair to
simply exclude you from the opportunity.”

Then he gave Annie an affectionate look. “No
more than it would be fair to exclude Annie. She’s been a faithful
and loyal employee, she knows this company like the back of her
hand, and she loves it as I do. I have absolutely no doubt at all
about her ability to run Hightower Advertising. Furthermore, she’s
very dear to me. She and I are very close, and quite frankly, I
think of her as the daughter I never had.” He sighed regretfully.
“So you see my problem. Do I give the reins to Mitch, my blood, who
now wishes to claim his heritage? Or do I hand them to Annie, my
faithful friend and loyal employee who has been striving for this
position since she signed on five years ago?”

Did he want an answer? Mitch wondered. Or was
this a rhetorical question? Frankly, he didn’t see the problem. It
was simple enough if you asked him. He should run Hightower and
Annie could keep the position she had now.

“
At any rate,” William
continued. “This is how I’ve decided to handle it.”

Mitch and Annie both leaned forward, awaiting
Williams’s mandate.

“
The two of you will have to
—” The phone rang, interrupting his announcement. Mitch sagged
against his chair and exhaled mightily. Uncle William put the
caller on hold. “Excuse me. I’ll be only a minute. I have to take
this in the other room.” He got up and rounded the desk. “You two
get to know each other. You’ll be working together soon.” With that
cryptic comment, the old man exited the study.

Annie sprang from her chair with an agility
Mitch would have thought her capable of after last night and
watched as she began to rifle through the paper stacked on
William’s desk.

“
What the hell are you
doing?” he demanded.

Annie stopped to give him a nasty look.
“Looking for his newspaper. Have you seen it? Oh, God, I hope he
hasn’t seen it yet.”

Mitch frowned. “No. Why? Seen what?”

“
The picture, you moron,”
she hissed. “There a picture of us leaving the hotel.”

Mitch wondered why she cared whether William
saw a photo or not. What difference did it make? Suddenly, a sly
smile stole across his face as realization dawned. His gaze cut to
her. Uncle William obviously knew nothing about her Friday night,
hit-the-sauce personality. Mitch swiftly vacated his own chair and
added his efforts to the search.

Annie paused and shot him a suspicious look.
“What are you doing?”

“
Helping you,” Mitch said
smoothly. “By the way, you’re welcome.”

Her brow puckered in confusion. “I’m welcome
for what?”

“
For nothing,” Mitch said
heatedly, glaring at her from across the desk. “That was your cue
to thank me for seeing you home last night.”

Her ponytail bobbed as she harrumphed. “Like
I’m going to thank you for stripping my clothes off. That wasn’t
necessary. What are you,” she asked distractedly, “some kind of
pervert?” Annie continued her frantic searching, oblivious to his
indignation.

Pervert?
For the first time in his life, a woman had rendered him
speechless. He’d been accused of being several things, but never in
his life had he been accused of being some sort of sexual
deviant.

“
Look, lady,” Mitch growled.
“You haven’t got anything I haven’t seen before.” Though he’d never
seen better, but he wouldn’t tell her that. “Besides, it was either
remove the dress, or let you steep in beer all night. I was trying
to be thoughtful,” he ground out.

Briefly, she abandoned her search. A
chagrined look crossed her pretty face so quickly that Mitch was
inclined to believe he’d imagined it. “All right,” she said, with a
beleaguered sigh. “Thank you for taking me home. I really do
appreciate it.”

“
Good,” Mitch commented,
still irritated at her blasé attitude. “Most drunks don’t value a
favor.”

Her gaze collided with his. “I’m not a
drunk,” she hissed hotly.

Mitch suppressed a disbelieving grin and
shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

Annie stormed around the desk until she stood
toe to toe with him. She had to tilt her head back to look at him
in the eye and he could tell that having to do so annoyed her no
end. Oddly, he found that arousing. “Read my lips. I am not a
drunk.”

“
Step seven,” Mitch told
her, crossing his arms over his chest. “Denial.”

Annie set her hands on her hips. “Neither am
I in denial. Until last night, I haven’t had more than a glass of
wine since I graduated from college. Last night was just…” She
ducked her head, and for a moment Mitch feared she might cry again.
At last, she looked back up and her gaze searched his. “Look, could
we keep last night strictly between us? It’s really embarrassing,
and I’d like to forget it. Okay?”

She’d done it again, Mitch thought. Just like
last night, she’d mesmerized him with those amazing eyes. When he’d
finally gotten her home last night, he’d had to carry her in. She’d
fallen asleep on the drive over. Rather than tempt himself by
taking her to her bedroom, he’d deposited her on the couch. Her
dress had been soaked through with beer, undoubtedly from her
altercation with Dick.

True, he could have left in the dress, but it
would have been uncomfortable. So he hadn’t. He’d pulled the zipper
down, revealing a little of her at a time. He’d been hard and
aching by the time he’d gotten to the small of her back. And that
red lace. Mitch pulled in a slow breath.

Nevertheless, he’d never had a problem
attracting the opposite sex and he damn sure wouldn’t have taken
advantage of her. He’d removed the garment, put on a nearby chair,
then covered her with an afghan he’d found on the couch. It was all
harmless, really.

Except for the way he’d wanted to kiss her.
And more. That he could remember, he’d never watched another person
sleep before, and Annie Witherspoon was especially beautiful in
repose. Those wild curls fanned over the pillow, long lashes
casting shadowed crescents on her cheeks. Memory painted a vivid
picture which could stir him now. Unable to help himself, he’d
leaned over and brushed a kiss on her smooth forehead. She’d made a
soft, unintelligible sound that had tugged at something deep inside
him.

And that had been his cue to get out. Mitch
had left as though the hounds of hell were at his heels. As he had
the overwhelming urge to do now.

“
Okay,” he finally agreed.
“I won’t say a word.”

She breathed a sigh of infinite relief.
“Thank you.”

Grinning broadly, William strolled back into
the room. “Nice to see you two kids getting along. Now, where were
we? Oh, yes. I was about to lay the ground rules of Operation CEO.”
He smiled at his own joke. When neither Mitch nor Annie returned
his grin, he cleared his throat. “Okay, well. This is how we’re
going to settle it. Beginning Monday, the two of you will be in
competition for the Winning Weiner campaign.”

Beside him, Annie made a little choking
sound. An odd sense of foreboding settled over Mitch.

“
Mitch, we’ve handled
several campaigns for Winning Weiner’s subsidiaries. Annie has
worked with the CEO of Winning Meats, Inc. She’ll fill you in on
all the details. As it happens, this is the first time we’ve been
given the opportunity to handle an account of this magnitude.
Whoever successfully lands this account, becomes my replacement.”
William smiled, thoroughly please with himself.

Shock, disbelief, anger, then finally
resignation swept through Mitch. Annie sat completely still and
mute beside him. Her sudden silence told him one of two things.
Either she thought she had this silly competition in the bag, or
she knew William’s plan was so horrible that she couldn’t come up
with a single response. Something told Mitch it was the latter.

Mitch blew out a breath. He leaned forward
and rested his elbows on his knees. “So, let me make sure I have
this right. In order to become the next CEO of Hightower
Advertising, I have to prove that I can sell a hot dog?”

William beamed at his nephew as if Mitch were
a slow-witted child who had answered a difficult question
correctly. “Precisely.”

Monday morning dawned bright and chilly. The
autumn day was perfect for a warm sweater and a long walk in the
park. Unfortunately, even if Annie had been in the mood to do such
a thing—which she wasn’t—she wouldn’t have had the time. In over
five years of service for Hightower Advertising, Annie had never
missed a day of work, much less been late.

Until today.

And there was only one person to blame: Mitch
Hightower.

Annie had been up so late
into the night thinking about possible campaigns and strategies
against him, she hadn’t been able to get a decent night’s sleep.
Then, to add insult to injury, he’d turned up in her dreams as
well. And, to her ultimate irritation,
not
her nightmares. Having never had
the much-fabled wet dream, Annie was amazed at how real one seemed.
How vivid it had been. But why had her twisted subconscious cast
Mitch as the role of lover? Annie shook her head. She didn’t
understand it.

Admittedly, she found him attractive. She’d
had the opportunity to really study him at William’s house
yesterday. Mitch had the sort of face that could mesmerize.
Ruggedly masculine, all angles and smooth planes. A square jaw
complimented a sexy cleft in his chin. Lips designed for sin and
eyes the color of blue glass. Jet-black wavy hair that curled at
the ends and would undoubtedly be his best feature when he awoke
all tousled in the morning. Annie drew in a ragged breath. Oh, yes,
there was no denying he was handsome.

But far more appealing than any of these
assets was the blatant sexuality that radiated from the man. Mitch
was obviously comfortable in his own skin and confident in his
ability to attract the opposite sex. An alpha male through and
through.