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Authors: Vivi Andrews
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hundred-odd years it had been in her family’s possession. She didn’t believe that myth herself anyway. “No. Nothing distinctive.”
Karma nodded once, a comfortingly exact gesture. “Since the uniqueness of the item lies primarily in its significance to you, Chase really is the most suited to this task. I encourage you to let him try.”
He grinned around the candy obstruction in his mouth. “I promise to be gentle the first time.”
Mia pushed up her glasses—the better to glare at the blond surfer camped out on Karma’s gorgeous Asian-influenced desk. Honestly, who over the age of ten sucked on lollipops? Food on a stick was for crass state fairs and elementary school lunches.
Evidently sensing her animosity, Chase leaned back and said conspiratorially to his boss, “She’s seen Leverage , you know.”
“Ah.” Karma’s lips twitched. “Perhaps you would like to check up on us before we proceed?”
“No. That won’t be necessary.” She refrained from mentioning that she’d already done a thorough Google search and an Angie’s List check before driving over here. Karmic Consultants was a legitimate, if unorthodox business. And they might be able to save her ass, if she let them.
Mia took a breath. When one exhausted logical options, the illogical was all that remained, and you couldn’t get much more illogical than hiring a company specializing in occult solutions. The magical lost-stuff-finder-guy in the sleazy T-shirt was about as far from rational as she could go.
God, what was she doing here?
The phone on the desk bleeped cheerfully. Karma glanced at it and gave Mia an apologetic smile, professional and reserved. “If you don’t have any other questions for me, I’ll leave you in Mr. Hunter’s capable hands.”
Mia smothered the urge to ask more questions, just to avoid putting herself in those hands. She wasn’t afraid of being alone with Chase. Certainly not . He didn’t make her nervous. Not one little bit.
Even if his face and form did have such perfect symmetry and proportions even researchers using mathematics to dissect attractiveness with the Marquardt Beauty Analysis would struggle to find fault with them.
Mia could acknowledge, empirically, that he was the single most attractive man she had ever laid eyes on, but that did not mean she herself was attracted to him. Michelangelo probably wished he had a model like Chase for the David, but a pretty face did not necessarily equal an agile mind. Intellectual stimulus was Mia’s only erogenous zone and so far Chase Hunter had shown himself to be a woeful underachiever in that category.
He can talk circles around you , a sly little voice reminded her. Mia ruthlessly silenced it.
His baby blues could sparkle all they wanted. Sun-bleached hair could flop boyishly over his brow. The warm, beachy scent of him could wrap all around her in an intoxicating cloud. But she wouldn’t be even the slightest bit affected by him.
“Dr. Corregianni?”
Mia started, realizing with a jolt that Karma had been waiting for a response. “Ah, no. No, thank you. No other questions.”
She stood, smoothed the wrinkles from her tailored gray suit with a sharp tug, and moved quickly to the door before the flush rising to her cheeks could expose her embarrassment. She was never caught wool-gathering. Mia was on top of things at all times. Controlled. Cerebral. She did not fantasize about immature frat boys in sexist T-shirts.
Chase held the outer door to the office for her and Mia swanned through, pulling up short in the parking lot outside when she realized she had no idea what came next. She turned to face Chase, focusing intently on the oversized cartoon breasts on his shirt rather than the pheromone-enticing body beneath it. Lust was a chemical reaction, nothing more.
She didn’t actually like him.
“You ready to play nice?” He flashed pearly white teeth that would have long since decayed from sugar-shock and rotted right out of his
Karma nodded once, a comfortingly exact gesture. “Since the uniqueness of the item lies primarily in its significance to you, Chase really is the most suited to this task. I encourage you to let him try.”
He grinned around the candy obstruction in his mouth. “I promise to be gentle the first time.”
Mia pushed up her glasses—the better to glare at the blond surfer camped out on Karma’s gorgeous Asian-influenced desk. Honestly, who over the age of ten sucked on lollipops? Food on a stick was for crass state fairs and elementary school lunches.
Evidently sensing her animosity, Chase leaned back and said conspiratorially to his boss, “She’s seen Leverage , you know.”
“Ah.” Karma’s lips twitched. “Perhaps you would like to check up on us before we proceed?”
“No. That won’t be necessary.” She refrained from mentioning that she’d already done a thorough Google search and an Angie’s List check before driving over here. Karmic Consultants was a legitimate, if unorthodox business. And they might be able to save her ass, if she let them.
Mia took a breath. When one exhausted logical options, the illogical was all that remained, and you couldn’t get much more illogical than hiring a company specializing in occult solutions. The magical lost-stuff-finder-guy in the sleazy T-shirt was about as far from rational as she could go.
God, what was she doing here?
The phone on the desk bleeped cheerfully. Karma glanced at it and gave Mia an apologetic smile, professional and reserved. “If you don’t have any other questions for me, I’ll leave you in Mr. Hunter’s capable hands.”
Mia smothered the urge to ask more questions, just to avoid putting herself in those hands. She wasn’t afraid of being alone with Chase. Certainly not . He didn’t make her nervous. Not one little bit.
Even if his face and form did have such perfect symmetry and proportions even researchers using mathematics to dissect attractiveness with the Marquardt Beauty Analysis would struggle to find fault with them.
Mia could acknowledge, empirically, that he was the single most attractive man she had ever laid eyes on, but that did not mean she herself was attracted to him. Michelangelo probably wished he had a model like Chase for the David, but a pretty face did not necessarily equal an agile mind. Intellectual stimulus was Mia’s only erogenous zone and so far Chase Hunter had shown himself to be a woeful underachiever in that category.
He can talk circles around you , a sly little voice reminded her. Mia ruthlessly silenced it.
His baby blues could sparkle all they wanted. Sun-bleached hair could flop boyishly over his brow. The warm, beachy scent of him could wrap all around her in an intoxicating cloud. But she wouldn’t be even the slightest bit affected by him.
“Dr. Corregianni?”
Mia started, realizing with a jolt that Karma had been waiting for a response. “Ah, no. No, thank you. No other questions.”
She stood, smoothed the wrinkles from her tailored gray suit with a sharp tug, and moved quickly to the door before the flush rising to her cheeks could expose her embarrassment. She was never caught wool-gathering. Mia was on top of things at all times. Controlled. Cerebral. She did not fantasize about immature frat boys in sexist T-shirts.
Chase held the outer door to the office for her and Mia swanned through, pulling up short in the parking lot outside when she realized she had no idea what came next. She turned to face Chase, focusing intently on the oversized cartoon breasts on his shirt rather than the pheromone-enticing body beneath it. Lust was a chemical reaction, nothing more.
She didn’t actually like him.
“You ready to play nice?” He flashed pearly white teeth that would have long since decayed from sugar-shock and rotted right out of his
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