Hmm. Organized. His copy was all marked and noted. Her handwriting appeared neat, clean, and firm, with a touch of swirls showing her feminine side. The right amount of flourish and power. Feminine and bold. I like that. Mrs. Santo isn’t prudish.
She leafed through her copy. “If you please look at clause number eleven you will see that you’re demanding a hundred and fifty percent as guaranty for the loan. We are a solid firm, Mr. MacCraig, there’s no reason for this.”
He flicked his eyes at an impassive Davidoff. Seems that she’s more than a gorgeous face on a wondrous body. Mrs. Santo has brains and wields power. “I should say, Mrs. Santo that we demand this percentage because of the large loan amount, it is a long-term loan and we’re charging you quite a low rate of interest.”
“Maybe you think so. We don’t.” Sophia didn’t even look at Edward. She could see from the corner of her eye his unhappiness with her. “With such a high guaranty we surely could find a cheaper way of raising funds. You’re making exaggerated claims. We aren’t devoid of other possibilities or in such a hurry. I perfectly understand that your bank is a private institution and what your main goal is.” She leaned his direction.
Christ! He noticed the swell of her breasts pushing the neckline. He wished for an even lower neckline.
“But ours is the same and-”
MacKeenan entered the room with the refreshments and speedily served them. “Mr. Wales arrives momentarily, Mr. MacCraig,” he informed.
“Thank you, MacKeenan,” Alistair nodded. “So, you were saying…”
Edward used the gap to jump into the conversation. “What Mrs. Santo is trying to convey is that the conditions are too harsh and that we could arrange for milder fees-”
The door opened and Charles Wales came in. The men rose to greet him, but Sophia stayed seated, making a show of looking at her watch.
Aye, Wales is definitely late. It appears she detests unpunctuality as much as I do. Another point for you, Mrs. Santo.
“Miss San-”
“Mrs. Santo,” Sophia muttered dryly, interrupting him. “Seems that your memory fails you, Mr. Wales,” and she rose an eyebrow, “as always.”
Wales continued as if nothing had happened and his gaze leered over her figure. “A pleasure to see you again.” He extended his hand and Sophia handed him a copy of the contract, avoiding his hand, being nearly uncivil.
Alistair observed the weird exchange with keen eyes. Something’s wrong here.
Sophia impatiently drilled her nails on the glass tabletop.
Long dark-red nails! How did I not notice them before? What would they feel against my back? He almost hissed with the imaginable pleasure. Are her toenails painted the same shade? Alistair caught himself wondering how she would behave in bed. Rather, in his bed.
He speculated about her, watching her graceful and sophisticated movements as Wales proceeded with the dull explanations about interest and guaranties. Who is this woman? Not the lawyer, but the beauty that goes home every day to her husb- Husband! She’s married, Alistair Connor. You don’t do married women.
His gaze wandered to Wales, who drooled over her unabashedly. He pictured her as Wales was surely doing. Naked. This is disconcerting. Perhaps she’s Davidoff’s secret weapon? I should have guessed by the way she ambled in my direction that she had passion in her veins, but she seems so self-control-
“-Craig?” Edward asked, taking Alistair’s head out of the clouds.
Double fuck! I have to rein in these wayward thoughts. “Pardon?”
Davidoff smiled at him with a knowing look in his blue eyes.
Aye. Secret weapon.
“Page thirty-three, the penalty clauses,” Edward informed with his smile widening. He was sure of the Sophia’s effect on the huge man in front of him.
Alistair browsed the contract and quickly apprehended the notes in the margin. What the fuck? Alistair stiffened on the chair and looked at Wales, Davidoff, and then at Sophia. A sardonic look imprinted on her face. She delicately raised a raven eyebrow and tapped her left index finger on the center of her mouth. Christ! Her mouth. He looked down at the penalty clauses to distract himself from her mouth. These are absurd!
“I can see you have made some pertinent notes on these clauses, Mrs. Santo. I’m sure I can arrange to settle them somewhat differently.” He gave her a charming smile. She wetted her lips with the tip of her tongue and drilled her red long nails on the glass covering the wooden table. If this continues, I’ll be unable to stand when the meeting ends. She narrowed her eyes at him, changing her stance. Oh, come on… you can do better than this, Alistair Connor. He wanted the Leibowitz Oil account and now he wanted this woman to bend to his will. Let’s see how much longer she resists me.
Alistair swung the chair in her direction, casually crossed his legs and, slightly bending his torso, stared deeply into her eyes, not concealing his desire. “What do you desire, Mrs. Santo?” He asked in his deep, husky voice, letting the double entendre hang in the air.
Sophia’s mouth went dry and she tilted her head to the side. God. What just hit me? Her lips parted and she forgot what she needed to say.
Edward came to Sophia’s rescue again. “Exactly what is written, MacCraig.”
Oh, hell, Mr. MacCraig, you are so not doing this. Sophia snapped out of her reverie. Don’t push your luck, Mr. I’m-so-handsome-and-I-know-it. This is business. “Let me be honest, Mr. MacCraig.” She put her jeweled dragon Cartier pen on the contract with finality and entwined her long fingers in an elegant gesture, shifting in her chair to lean away from him. “These penalties are incompatible with a firm of our size and solidity. The fees and guaranty clauses are inconsistent with our corporate policy. You’re dealing with Leibowitz Oil, for God’s sake.” She looked quickly at Edward, who nodded his head slightly. Alistair’s gaze followed the exchange. “You can do better than this, Mr. MacCraig.” She gave him a knowing smile.
Christ! Can she read my thoughts? How good is she?
“And?” Alistair asked poker-faced. How old could she be? Twenty-two? Please, I have five times her experience.
“We’d like you to modify the highlighted terms as best you can. We could set another meeting to-”
Wales interrupted, “Miss Santo, I have told you before. These are our final conditions. Every time you postpone the signing of this contract you waste a business opportunity for Leibowitz,” Wales, undiplomatic, put forth and continued pushing her, “you have more to lose than us.”
Sophia’s temper snapped. “Mr. Wales, I think you haven’t properly researched Leibowitz Oil. This loan,” she tapped the contract with her pen, “is just a means to expand our business. We’re doing extremely well without it, no thanks to you.”
“If I may say, Miss Santo, since the death of Gabriel Leibowitz and the disappearance of his wife and daughter, Leibowitz Oil has lost a great deal of its credibility,” Wales sneered at her. “It’s sinking without him. We’re your salvation.”
Alistair watched as Sophia paled.
“I don’t see what the lives of Mr. Leibowitz’s widow and child have to do with the company, sir,” Sophia murmured dryly.
“Well, although Davidoff has been doing great in steering the company, everyone knows that Mr. Leibowitz was the brains behind it. It was said that his widow was very astute, but rumor has it she is dead.” When Wales finished, Sophia swayed in her chair and Edward leaped to steady her.