Her Tender Touch

He had found relationships with people in general to be confusing at times, which was why, when he’d had to complete hours for community service in order to graduate from high school, he’d volunteered to work with animals. They didn’t need him to be anything other than himself. When he said “sit,” they understood, unlike the Mrs. Armstrongs of the world who lived by their own rules.

Jason stepped off the elevator and walked to the office directly in front of him and entered, then stopped when he saw the woman sitting there. He hoped she wasn’t the one. He didn’t like her smile; he didn’t trust her. He’d learned early that there were few women he could—or would—trust.

“Hello,” she said, stretching out her hand. “You must be Jason Ward.”

“Yes,” he said, seeing her wince when he shook her hand, even as her smile remained. He found it too wide; her body was too close. He could see her sizing him up—calculating the price of his clothes. She’d be disappointed. If this was Abby Baylor, he’d do the initial consultation and then find someone else.

“Would you like some coffee?” she asked, gesturing to a seat.

He sat. “No, I’m fine. Thanks, Ms. Baylor.”

“Oh, no, that’s not me.”

Before she could explain further, the other office door opened and another woman walked out. Now, she was a vision. She was tall, brown-skinned, with shoulder-length black hair, and elegantly dressed in a fitted sheath dress that showed off all her curves. She didn’t smile at him or step close. He liked her immediately.

“Jason Ward?” she asked in a curt manner.

He stood. “Yes.”

She held out her hand. “I’m Abby Baylor.”

He shook her hand. “A pleasure.”

She winced and rubbed her hand. “Not with a handshake like that. Are you trying to break my fingers? Never mind, we’ll work on that later.” She turned to her office. “Please, follow me.”

She didn’t have to ask twice. He’d have no problem following her anywhere. He liked the view from the back of her as much as from the front.

* * *

Abby walked into her room, trying to get her heart to stop racing. She’d tried to imagine what Jason Ward would be like, but nothing had prepared her for the man she met up close. A man who was both terrifying and mesmerizing. She knew him by reputation. He made news for his ruthless dealings and temper. But strangely, he didn’t frighten her, although he should have. She was struck by his dark, cutting gaze. He topped six-four, had a remarkable build and looked like a man who could carry tree trunks—or better yet, a helpless woman over his shoulder. She’d wanted a challenge, and she knew he would be one.

“We have a lot of work to do. I can already list three things we need to work on. Take a seat.”

“Is this how you greet all your new clients?” he said, still standing.

“Why? Should I be a little gentler?”

He lifted a brow but didn’t reply.

Score one for her, Abby thought with a small thrill of delight. She’d put on her cool demeanor on purpose and wanted to see how he would react. To her amazement he didn’t, but she wouldn’t underestimate him. She could imagine his mind working on another strategy, so she had to take control first. She held out her hand. “Let’s start again. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Abby Baylor.”

Jason shook her hand, his grip strong. “A pleasure.”

She flexed her fingers. “Yes, we’ll definitely have to work on that.” She sat down. “Now tell me what you want, specifically.”

Jason smiled at her as if she’d asked him something more intimate, making her skin grow warm. Although her insides trembled, she held his gaze. She would not let him intimidate her in spite of the fact he was suddenly making her very curious about what he wanted and if she could oblige him. In his dreams, she thought, quickly brushing the idea aside.

“I want to play well with others,” he said in a sarcastic tone, taking a seat across from her.

“And not be the bully in the sandbox?”

“Something like that.”

“May I give you a brief assessment?”

He shrugged. “You say that as if I have an option, but somehow I doubt it. Please, proceed. Tell me what’s wrong with me.”

Abby pointed to his hands. “The handshake is too hard.” She nodded at him. “And the stare too long. You haven’t blinked or moved your gaze once since I started talking. To someone else, that’s an aggressive move. Is that what you’re trying for?”

“I thought I was being attentive.”

She smiled. “No, you don’t. You don’t want to be here.”

Jason lifted a brow, but again, didn’t respond.

“How long have you been doing this?” he asked.

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to.”

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. You’re a meticulous man. I don’t think you’d hire someone you knew little about. My website and brochure say plenty about me, as do client testimonials, so, please, don’t waste our time.”

“I wanted to see if you’d lie.”

“You’ll have to ask me another question. Later. Right now I’m here to help you.” She stood. “We’ll start with your handshake.”

He reluctantly stood. “I see you don’t believe in chitchat.”

“Time is money.”

“I have a lot to spend.”

“The sooner we start, the sooner you’ll succeed.”

He shook his head, amused. “Do you always talk like that?”

“Like what?”

“In platitudes?”

“Doesn’t matter. Now, the handshake is important. It says a lot about you. You don’t want one that is too strong or too weak. You want a firm, assured, but quick connection. Let’s try it again.” She held out her hand. “Hello, I’m Abby Baylor.”

He took her hand in his. This time his grip was not too strong; instead it was amazingly gentle but firm. “Jason Ward.”

“That was great! Perfect. Now, look down at our hands. Do you see how nice the grip is?” She glanced up at him. “You’re not looking.”

“I prefer looking at you.”