The Perfect Proposal (8 page)

Mitch took another step, shortening the
distance between them to mere inches. “Is that right? And you’re
saying you’re a member of that club?” He’d seen the way she looked
at him, how she’d checked him out, so he knew that was a bald-faced
life. A rush of male satisfaction pulsed through him. Annie didn’t
like the attraction any more than he did.

She lifted her chin. “That’s right.”

“
Then prove it.”

“
P-prove it?” she
stammered.

“
Yes.”

“
How?”

“
Kiss me.”

Annie licked her lips. “Kiss you?”

“
Yeah, you know, it’s when a
man and woman press their lips together, taste each
other-“

“
I know what a kiss is,” she
interrupted impatiently in that adorable Annie fashion. “I just
don’t know why I should have to kiss you to prove that I don’t find
you irresistible.”

“
If you weren’t impressed or
attracted to me as you say, then why not?” Mitch challenged. He
waited a beat, heaved a dramatic sigh and turned away from her.
“See, you are, otherwise, you wouldn’t even hesitate to prove me
wrong.”

Mitch had taken no more than a step until
Annie grabbed his arm and whirled him about to face her. Before he
could even take a breath, her lips were pressed to his.

Her kiss was soft and sweet…and demanding,
Mitch thought, as she secured her arms around his neck and slipped
her tongue into his mouth. He felt her breasts warm and full
against his chest, and enjoyed the erotic little moan that bubbled
up her throat and into his. Another guttural moan sounded and Mitch
was momentarily stunned to realize it had come from this throat
this time. Annie’s hands threaded through the still-damp hair at
his nape, sending another tingle through his already overloaded
system.

Suddenly she broke the kiss and stepped away
from him. The front of her silky robe was wet from where he’d been
pressed against her, giving him another tantalizing view of what
he’d seen only moments before.

“
There,” she said raggedly,
shoving him out the bedroom door. “You’re r-resistible.”

Then she slammed the door on his shocked
face.

Annie wiped her swollen lips with the back of her
trembling hand. Had she just thrown herself at him? What had come
over her? Humiliation added another shade of red to her already
scalding cheeks. Her heart threatened to pound through her chest, a
result of her mortifying behavior, she assured herself, not his
kiss. Heavens! She’d never felt the need to accost anyone with her
lips before!

Annie stomped over and plopped into a chair.
Oh, that man! That insufferable, boorish Neanderthal, she thought
furiously. He’d goaded her into kissing him! How had he done that?
she wondered, both angered and perversely awed. She’d never let her
tempter rule her, much less let it inspire her to forcibly initiate
a kiss. Annie fumed inwardly.

The fact that she had practically been bowled
over by the impact of his kiss didn’t help matters and only served
to infuriate her further. As far as Annie could recall, no man had
ever made her toes curl.

Or made her literally weak in the knees.

Or made her
tingle
.

But then, Annie had never had the privilege
of gazing at anyone so perfectly formed in her entire life. Her
mind obligingly called up the image and she lost her breath all
over again.

Mitch fully-clothed was arresting—Mitch in
the buff was…glorious. Unparalleled.

Undoubtedly, he was the idea vision of what
the good Lord had intended when He created man. Mile-wide muscled
shoulders, sculpted pecs, lightly covered with dusting of jet-black
hair that arrowed down his washboard stomach and into…into—Annie
swallowed as a shudder rippled through her—other very impressive
aspects of his flawless anatomy. She’d never been so inclined to
sleep with the enemy. That one look was enough to make her want to
forget everything about Hightower Advertising and remember she was
a woman.

For that brief moment when she’d been in his
arms, Annie had felt like champagne was coursing through her veins
and she liked it. A lot.

Nevertheless it wouldn’t do to get all tingly
over Mitch Hightower. She didn’t have the time and couldn’t afford
the risk. Besides, however handsome, however charming, however
skilled in seduction, Mitch was the enemy. She blew out a resigned
breath. She couldn’t let herself get all moony over him.

Okay, Annie, time to regroup, she told
herself. She and Mitch had to be at the packing plant—she checked
the bedside clock—in less than an hour. Another surge of fury
gripped her. Thanks to Mitch and his unusual shower habits, she’d
lost more than fifteen minutes of her “quiet time.”

Annie valued her “quiet time.” She needed
that half hour every morning to meditate over her coffee and plan a
strategy for the day. To get out of a bad mood because she
invariably woke up in one. It was unfortunate, but true. What could
she say? She wasn’t a morning person.

Annie regretted the personality flaw, but had
found that she couldn’t do anything about it. By trial and error
she’d discovered a routine that worked and had rigidly stuck to
it—until today. When she’d intended to have a shower and found a
naked Mitch instead. And then kissed him, a twisted little voice
added.

Eyes narrowed, Annie stood up and gave the
belt in her robe a savage yank. Well, she thought, still aroused
and angered as well, Mitch would just have to deal with the
consequences. She grinned. Then again, maybe he already had, she
thought, recalling her earlier assumption about Mitch’s morning
rituals.

“
If I were to wear this hard
hat one more minute, I’m going to scream,” Annie muttered under
breath as they wrapped up the informative, if slightly disgusting,
tour of the packing plant.

If he had to hear her complain one more time,
Mitch thought silently, he would be the one who would scream. Damn,
he’d never met a more disagreeable female! Amazing that those
viperous lips were the same ones he’d been marveling over this
morning. Mitch had reeled at the force of her kiss. Even her
unpleasant comments and insults hadn’t been able to dull his desire
for her.

Fact was, sour disposition and all, he wanted
her.

He didn’t understand it, most likely never
would and chalked it up to a hidden self-destructiveness, for
surely she would be the end of him. Annie not only represented
everything he didn’t like in a woman, she stood between him and his
birthright. How could he possibly want her?

“…
and so, that about wraps
it up,” Ed Morris, the plant manager was saying. “Once the wieners
are smoked, we wash them down with cool water and pack ‘em. Then
they’re shipped out to the distribution plant where they ready them
for the supermarkets. Y’all got any questions?” Ed snorted and
hitched his jeans up a notch. “Mr. Peters told me to make sure that
you knew the complete history of the dawg, that you understood
every facet of the wiener-making process.”

In that case, Ed-who, oddly enough, had done
an excellent job. Frankly, Mitch knew more about hot dogs than he
cared to know. Annie’s pretty face, presently screwed into a fierce
scowl, attested to the fact that she concurred with his
thoughts.

“
No, thanks, Ed,” Mitch told
him. “I think we’ve got everything we need to give this campaign a
real informative hook. We appreciate your time.”

“
Glad I could be of
service,” Ed told them. “Let me know if I can help you anymore.”
With that, the pro-wiener Ed relieved them of the hard hats and
took his leave.

As soon as Ed was out of earshot, Annie
breathed a theatrical sigh of relief. “Ick!” she shuddered. “That’s
it. As of now, I’m officially a vegetarian.” She fluffed her hair,
then pivoted on her heel and made a beeline to the car Les had lent
them.

Mitch watched her heart-shaped derriere sway
fetchingly away. Her better side, he thought grimly, but grinned
anyway. Mitch opened Annie’s door, then rounded the hood and slid
behind the wheel. “I don’t suppose you’re hungry, then?”

“
Actually, I am. I missed
breakfast this morning,” she said dryly, and shot him a pointed
look. Mitch shook his head and smiled to himself.

The packing plant was only a few miles out of
town, so they settled on a diner near the city limits. To his vast
relief, Annie kept her grumbling to a minimum and seemed to perk up
as they ate their meal. The vegetarian declaration lasted only as
long as the drive, Mitch noted, as he watched Annie
enthusiastically devour a cheeseburger.

“
Who would have ever thought
that much planning went into a wiener?” she mused, munching
thoughtfully.

Mitch grunted his agreement as he gulped a
drink of iced tea. “I know. I’ll never look at a hot dog the same
way.”

“
Humph.” Annie rolled her
eyes. “I’ll never look at a hot dog again, period.”

Mitch chuckled, relieved that they seemed to
be getting along for the moment. “Les does take his meat seriously,
doesn’t he?”

She nodded, her lips tilting into a wry
smile. She steepled her fingers and rested her chin on them. “One
might say that. Les doesn’t believe in doing anything halfway…as
I’m sure you’ve noticed with his choice of wardrobe,” she added
with a mischievous grin.

Oh, yes, Mitch knew. After dinner last night,
Les had mentioned designing a new suit just for him. Wanted to give
him a makeover. Quite frankly, though Mitch admired the little
cowboy, he had no intention of taking any fashion tips from him.
Les’s sartorial style could only be described as Boss Hogg meets
late Elvis. Mitch winced. He’d sooner have a root canal.

Annie laughed, a sexy, throaty chuckle that
momentarily distracted Mitch from his clothing dilemma. “I take it
you’re not enamored of his Lycra-satin-rhinestones creations?”

He returned her grin. “I prefer Armani.”

Annie considered him for a moment. Her gaze
tangled with his. “Funny,” she mused. “I would have taken you for a
jeans and T-shirt kind of guy. Preppy, yet…not. She shrugged and
snagged a French fry off her plate.

Mitch felt his smile slip and hoped she
didn’t notice. For whatever reason, that Annie pegged him so
readily made him uncomfortable. It was true he much preferred jeans
to slacks; however, denim wasn’t exactly part of the corporate
look. And, since he had to fit in, Mitch had made it a priority to
get the right uniform. If only it wasn’t so—

“
Oh!” Annie said abruptly,
as if sudden inspiration had seized her. She dove into her purse
and pulled out a small notebook and pen, then began to scribble
frantically.

Mitch frowned, suspicious. “Oh, what?”

Annie looked up and smiled mysteriously. “I
just had an idea.”

Great, Mitch thought, perturbed. While he’d
been mourning the loss of his Levis, Annie’d been continuing to
work. To get ahead of him. To win this stupid contest.

Annie clicked her pen, flipped the notebook
closed, then to his further irritation, heaved a satisfied sigh.
“You know, Mitch, Les might have been onto something with these
tours. What next on the agenda?”

Mitch’s first inclination was to grab his own
notebook and feign sudden inspiration. But that was entirely too
childish and she was likely to see right through him. She’d also
deduce that she’d unnerved him with that little performance, which
wouldn’t do at all. So, rather than let her know she’d scored a
direct hit, he smiled and agreed with her.

“
The distribution plant,” he
told her, finishing up his drink. “Are you ready?”

“
Can’t wait,” she
chirped.

Mitch waited for Annie to slide out of the
booth, a courtesy that had a payoff. From this vantage point he
could see the swell of her breasts revealed in her V-necked pale
yellow sweater. She wore a long tailored skirt of the same buttery
color, a shade that looked particularly well on her, Mitch noted.
In fact, clothed in the soft hue, her amazing long dark curls swept
up in a provocatively unkempt arrangement, Annie looked incredibly
feminine and utterly beautiful.

Which was deceptive because Mitch knew a
she-devil lurked beneath that angelic façade. To his ultimate
irritation, male creature that he was, Mitch found that revelation
every bit as appealing. Disgusted with himself, he followed her to
the car.

At the trunk, she paused. “Do you mind if I
drive?”

Undoubtedly another facet of her
control-freak personality, Mitch decided as he tossed her the keys.
He shook his head. “Not at all.”

Annie took her time about settling into the
seat, then to his additional consternation, carefully reapplied her
lipstick before backing out of the parking lot. “Which way to do we
go?” she asked.

Mitch consulted the map and gave her the
directions. They’d only gone a couple of miles when Annie announced
she had to stop and use the ladies’ room. Mitch refrained from
asking her why she hadn’t gone at the diner—Annie was piloting the
vehicle and he’d witnessed her temper. Only a man with a death wish
would anger her at this point.

Annie grabbed her wallet from her purse and
hastily exited the car. She pivoted toward the convenience store,
then stopped short and poked her head around through the driver’s
side window. A bright Texas sun backlit her, giving her an ethereal
quality that made his throat constrict in a perplexing way. “Do you
want anything?” she asked.

Oh, yeah, he wanted
something. He wanted
her
. Her on a bed and writhing beneath him…and he wanted to know
what she’d written in that damned little notebook. He cleared his
throat. “No, thanks.”