The Perfect Proposal Page 6

  Mitch smiled though it held no humor. “Does that mean you do it?”

  Some of the color left her face, then promptly returned, heralding her anger. “We aren’t talking about me and my sexual…urges.”

  “Now we are.”

  She sighed impatiently. “No, we’re not.”

  “Fine,” he said. “We won’t talk about whether you do or you don’t.” He grinned. “But I think you are. Impressed, that is.”

  Annie’s eyes rounded and she laughed, though it sounded forced to Mitch’s ears. “Hardly,” she said. “Not in the least. I know you don’t believe this Mr. Hightower, but some members of the opposite sex don’t find you irresistible.”

  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.

  Chapter Six

  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.”

  As soon as she’d disappeared inside the store, Mitch’s gaze strayed to her purse. A corner of the notebook peeked through the zipper. His fingers practically itched. No, Mitch told himself. To glance at that notebook would be the same as stealing. It wouldn’t be ethical. Hell. As if he didn’t have enough problems already? He shook his head. Just forget about it. Whatever her idea, it couldn’t be any better than his.

  Mitch glanced nervously at the store, then back to the notebook. She’d seemed awfully excited. Too excited, really. She’d probably been trying to goad him, and unfortunately, it had worked.

  But what if that hadn’t been her motive at all? What could she possibly seen in that vile packing plant that could have triggered her imagination? Nothing of value, he decided again. He wouldn’t look at the notebook.

  He wouldn’t.

  Mitch blew out a disgusted snort. But he hadn’t a doubt that Annie would. Were their positions reversed, she’d have had the notebook out and liberated the page in less time than Mitch had taken to debate about it. The unscrupulous Annie would have seen this as a golden opportunity to outwit him.

  Which was the argument that Mitch employed to ease his conscience as he snatched the notebook from her purse. A quick glance confirmed that Annie hadn’t exited the store yet. With another furtive look around, Mitch quickly flipped the book open and perused the page.

  Be blinked, stunned, then read her grand “idea” again. Not once, not twice, but three times in pretty cursive writing had she written her supposed inspirational thought.

  “Irritate Mitch.”

  Seething, Mitch closed the little pad and returned it to her purse. Well, she’d royally succeeded in that, hadn’t she? He muttered an oath and ran a hand through his hair. A movement inside the store caught his attention. Annie stood at the counter, gabbing with the clerk as though they had all the time in the world. As though he weren’t sitting in the car waiting for her. Frustration welled in him, triggering a finger twitch. How could one little female infuriate him so? he wondered, baffled by her ability to annoy him.

  Perhaps the time
had come for Annie to get a dose of her own vexing medicine. What he lacked in the drama department, he could certainly make up for originality.

  Brace yourself, Annie, Mitch thought. You just unwittingly challenged the master.

  Annie lowered herself into the hot fragrant bubble bath and moaned with pleasure. Between this morning’s shower fiasco and trips to the various plants, she was exhausted. Les had invited them to dinner, but she and Mitch had decided it would be better to decline the offer. Besides, some of Les’s family had arrived for the reunion and they hadn’t wanted to intrude. Mitch had offered to cook, and Annie had taken refuge in the bathtub to sort out her thoughts. And gloat.

  A wicked grin curled her lips and she almost laughed out loud. Mitch had been supremely upset after her “I’ve got an idea ruse.” Oh, he hadn’t said anything. Mitch was entirely too controlled for that. Still, the frown coupled with his unpleasant attitude for the remainder of the day had been evidence enough. He’d abandoned any attempt at congenial conversation and, for the most part, ignored her.

  So much so that Annie had almost regretted the devious ploy. During lunch, she’d inexplicably forgotten that Mitch was her adversary. She’d enjoyed their brief camaraderie and felt a connection beginning between them. A connection that had been more than the physical. One that evoked a jittery feeling that didn’t bear exploring, much less thinking about.

  Still, she couldn’t help but wonder. For a few seconds, Annie was certain she’d gotten a glimpse at the real Mitch Hightower. Not the polished playboy he showed the world, but the real man. And she’d been utterly intrigued.

  Then she’d remembered who Mitch was and why there were here, and that had broken the moment. Recalling how he’d goaded her into kissing him had quickly squelched any other twinges of conscience.

  Annie had known from the first moment she’d laid eyes on Mitch that she was attracted to him. That raven’s-wing hair and those clear blue eyes were a lethal combination. Factor in the to-die-for build and she didn’t have a chance. Admittedly, the physical attraction was bothersome, but she could deal with it. Basic sexual chemistry she could understand.