LITMIR.BIZ

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who applied it. And though his gregarious family complained that he was aloof to the point of being a recluse, they’d never succeeded in converting him to their own exuberant brand of sociability.

      “Actually, Julia and I were drooling over the hunks in this magazine.” Laughing, Kristina grabbed the copy of Fame and thrust it into Michael’s hands.

      Before looking at the issue, Michael glanced quizzically at Julia. Color suffused her cheeks, and she quickly looked away when his eyes met hers.

      Michael felt a stirring of sympathy for her. Clearly, Kristina was joking around and had incorporated poor Julia into the silliness, mortifying her.

      He instantly exonerated his assistant, because he simply couldn’t imagine Julia Chandler drooling over pictures of the pretty boys that Kristina would consider hunks.

      Julia was always proper, circumspect and competent, qualities he especially valued because they’d been sorely lacking in the parade of assistants who had preceded her. He still held grim memories of the time before Julia had come to work for him.

      He’d had to endure all those snide remarks and jokes about the “revolving door” on his assistant’s office. There was gossip that he was impossible to work for and would never be able to keep an assistant longer than a few months. The people in the human-resources department were forever whining that his policy of changing personnel, which sometimes seemed to happen from week to week, made their record-keeping impossibly difficult.

      His uncle Jake, the corporation’s CEO, had actually suggested that Michael take a sensitivity-training workshop to put him in touch with the tender feelings of those hapless employees who couldn’t live up to his workaholic standards.

      Michael had been outraged. He didn’t want an assistant who couldn’t meet his demands, and he certainly didn’t want to be in touch with their feelings! “I’ll sign up for that workshop when you do, Jake,” he’d said to his uncle, whom he knew did a wicked parody of a sensitivity-training-session leader.

      It had been a considerable relief when Julia Chandler—reliable, bright and efficient—arrived and put an end to the parade. That they worked so well together was still something of a wonder to him, when he paused to consider it.

      Julia was quiet and unassuming, not the flashy type who sought male attention, and for that, Michael was profoundly grateful. Too many of his past assistants had imagined themselves in love with him and had dressed and acted provocatively to catch his attention, their minds focused on landing the boss instead of on their work. They’d never lasted more than a few weeks. A frazzled Michael, unable to get any productive work from them, had inevitably sent them on their way.

      His eyes narrowed as he continued his thoughtful perusal of Julia Chandler. Her simple gray suit and her hairstyle were modest and professional. She had a smooth, ivory complexion that contrasted nicely with the darker color of her nut brown hair. And though Julia wasn’t beautiful in the classic sense, her high cheekbones, firm little chin and large, intelligent gray eyes held an appeal all their own.

      Not for him, of course, Michael was quick to assure himself. He was not interested in pursuing a relationship with the best and longest-lasting assistant he’d ever had. He wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship with any woman that extended beyond short-term safe sex with absolutely no strings attached. His work was the primary driving force in his life and he couldn’t imagine anyone taking precedence over it.

      “Go on, look at the magazine, Mike,” Kristina ordered, jarring him from his reverie.

      Michael frowned. “Why would I have any interest in looking at the well-oiled Neanderthals you’ve been drooling over?”

      “Well-oiled Neanderthals, huh?” Kristina snickered. “Oh, I think you’ll be very interested in seeing these guys, Mike. One in particular.”

      Julia tensed. It was like watching someone about to step in front of a speeding bus. She wanted to call out a warning, but her voice seemed to be frozen in her throat. She stood stock-still, watching as Michael cast a disdainful glance at the article.

      She saw him gape in disbelief as he read the list of top-ten most eligible bachelors in the U.S.A., one of whom was him!

      The magazine slipped from his fingers, and Julia knew it was a sign of how upset Michael really was. She’d never seen him drop so much as a pencil before. But the magazine hit the floor, its pages fluttering like the wings of a frantic bird.

      “Who is responsible for this?”

      Michael’s voice was low, every syllable precise, his blue eyes like twin chips of ice. Though his expression remained impassive, Julia instantly recognized the signs of his fury. Her boss was the most controlled person she had ever met, never given to dramatic displays of temper, but she knew he was quite capable of rage.

      She’d witnessed his wrath when something went awry within the Fortune Corporation, had seen his dark blue eyes turn cold with anger and had heard his sharp tone of voice, as unnerving as any blustery barrage.

      Kristina, however, either didn’t recognize or else chose to ignore his symptoms of anger. “It’s so cool, isn’t it, Mike? You’ll be a household name along with—”

      “I am insulted and infuriated at this atrocious invasion of privacy!” Michael’s voice was low and deep. “Did you do it, Kristina? Is this another inappropriate idea of yours, one confusing advertising with publicity? Did you contact this magazine and—”

      “I did not!” Kristina was offended.

      “Then how did they get my name? And my picture?” demanded Michael. “Why would they put me on this stupid list unless somebody—you—engineered it?”

      “The magazine editors picked you. I had nothing to do with it,” Kristina exclaimed defensively. “It’s your own fault you’re one of the chosen, brother.”

      “I know that it’s fashionable to blame the victim these days, but do you mind explaining why I am responsible for this—this…” Words failed him.

      Julia was worried. She had never seen Michael driven to speechlessness in the entire time she’d known him.

      “Just consider the facts, Mike,” Kristina retorted, undaunted by her brother’s fury. “You’re twenty-nine years old and you’re single, good-looking and rich. You’re a member of a prominent family and you already hold an important position in the company. Plus, you’re actually good at what you do, so you’re probably going to succeed Uncle Jake as CEO sometime in the future. That makes you supereligible, and that’s how you made the list.”

      Michael wasn’t buying it. “What about that picture of me?” he demanded coldly. “Next you’ll accuse me of sending it in myself.”

      “I don’t know how they got your picture,” Kristina said with a huff. “Maybe your mother sent it in, hoping that some heiress would hop a plane to Minneapolis and marry you, giving Mommie Dearest yet another crack at even more wealth. I certainly wouldn’t put it past her. Your mother would do anything for money!”

      Michael seemed to turn to stone, every muscle in his body tight, his eyes burning with dark fire. At six foot one, he towered over both women, and Julia shrank back, feeling suddenly, inordinately intimidated by his size and presence. Kristina, who was glowering at her brother, clearly did not.

      When Michael spoke, his voice was eerily calm, his face a composed, expressionless mask. “I can’t waste any more time on this nonsense—I have work to do. Julia, will you please escort my sister out of here?”

      He turned and went inside his own office, closing the door behind him with careful, quiet finality.

      Silence descended like a shroud for a few long moments. Finally, Kristina heaved an exasperated sigh. “Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have accused his mother. But to be perfectly honest, his mother is a greedy, vindictive witch! You’ve met Sheila, haven’t you, Julia?”

      Julia nodded reluctantly. Oh yes, she’d met Sheila,

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