Captivated By The Tycoon

He looked at her bemusedly. “You know, I don’t let just anyone talk to me this way. Those who work for me never do, and even my business rivals know better.”

His look turned thoughtful. “This isn’t how I remember you.”

“Things can change in a few years,” she forced herself to say. She’d vowed never again to be so vulnerable…so naive.

“I can see that.”

They were drifting into dangerous territory, so she faced the closet again and tapped her lips with her index finger. “I’m thinking Helmut Lang on the jeans.”

“No way.”

She glanced at him. “If you were a denim fanatic, I’d suggest Japanese jeans made from organic cotton and natural dyes.”

“What’s wrong with Levi’s?”

“Nothing. It depends on the message you want to send.” The thought of him filling out a formfitting pair of Levi’s sent a wave of heat through her. “Actually, it wouldn’t hurt to inject an element of everyman into your image. It might be a nice balance, particularly if what you said in our interview is true and you’re looking for a down-to-earth woman.”

“I am.”

“All right, then.” Her gaze went back to his closet. “Let’s see if we can wake things up a bit.”

“No.”

“Real men wear pink.”

Matt eyed the dress shirt in Lauren’s hand. “Not flamingo pink.”

This afternoon’s shopping trip hadn’t been going as he’d expected. They’d hit some of Boston’s upscale men’s stores, ending up in Neiman Marcus.

As far as Matt could tell, Lauren was intent on softening his hard edges. Her idea appeared to be to make him seem like less of a hard-driving business executive so, with any luck, he’d become less of one, as well.

Not a chance, he wanted to warn her.

She sighed. “I see I’ll have to introduce you to P. Diddy’s fashion line.”

“Stick to Ralph Lauren Polo. You might have better luck.”

“You know, if I really wanted to recommend something trendy, I’d suggest bespoke clothing.”

“Bespoke?”

“Handmade.”

He made a sound of disbelief. He had his suits custom-made, but hand sewn was a different matter.

“Just for the record, the shade we were talking about is called fiesta berry.”

“They can call it lucky gambler’s red, but I won’t be wearing it.”

A middle-aged salesman approached, wearing a polite smile. “May I offer some assistance?”

“Thanks, but we were just leaving.”

Lauren smiled apologetically at the clerk. “We’re looking for something casual, but we seem to be having a difference of opinion.”

The man nodded. “Wives sometimes have a different opinion from their husbands.”

A look of embarrassment crossed Lauren’s face. “We’re not—”

“What my wife is trying to say,” he cut in, “is that we’re not looking just for casual clothing. She’s trying to soften my image at work, too.”

Lauren opened her mouth, but before she could say anything more, he took her elbow and steered her toward the salesman. “Come along, sweetheart. Let’s see what he can show us.”

To the salesclerk, he said, “Let’s start with some casual pants.”

“Very good,” the salesman said. “If you’ll follow me…?”

As they walked toward another section of the store, Lauren muttered, “What are you doing? If anyone recognizes you and thinks we’re an item, or worse, that you’re secretly married, you’ll undermine everything we’re trying to accomplish.”

“Don’t worry,” he said easily. “I’m the kind of action hero who is invisible to everyone but husband-hunting females.”

She gave him a sidelong look. “Really? And your superhero powers would be—?”

“I’d show you, but they’re best demonstrated privately.”

She compressed her lips. “I don’t know why he assumed we’re married. Neither of us is wearing a wedding band.”

“Not everyone wears a ring. Besides, girlfriends don’t pick out a man’s clothes, wives do.”

She opened her mouth again.

“If he thinks we’re married, he’ll listen to you. Otherwise, he’ll keep addressing me.”

“You put me on the spot.”

“Learn to ask for what you want. That’s the problem with women.”

She pulled her elbow from his grasp. “We’ll have to work on your unfortunate tendency to put the words problem and women in the same sentence.”

“When have I done that?” he said mildly. Ever since she’d arrived at his apartment, he felt as if he’d been taken to task by Ms. Manners. “All I said was I’ve been targeted by social climbers and gold diggers.”

“Same thing,” she responded before giving her attention to the salesman.

Lauren and the clerk got into a conversation about the “it” colors of the season and various private labels.

Matt limited his answers to yes, no and forget it. It was the way he was used to operating in the boardroom, and the approach had served him well.

He could tell it was exasperating Lauren, however.