Rule's Obsession (The House of Rule 1)

He studied her a moment in controlled silence, myriad expressions crossing his features. "We'll see." With that, he turned and walked out and only when he'd left the building, could Angie begin breathing normally again.

****

A few days later, Angie finished up a haircut and castigated herself for not being able to concentrate as usual. The episode with Damian Rule had screwed up her ability to go on as usual; she didn't know why, but she felt different. His challenge that she wouldn't be able to stay away from him was messing her up on the inside, and suddenly, every man she saw on the street or came into contact with at the salon, she compared with him. And much to her annoyance, every one of them came up lacking. As she swept up around her station after her last customer, the receptionist, a girl called Amber, came up to her. "There's a lady who wants to see you."

"Who is it?" Angie asked, wishing she had a few minutes before her next appointment to calm her nerves.

"I didn't ask." The girl went back to the front of the salon and Angie followed her. Much to her shock, Damian's mother slid to her feet and before Angie could catch her breath, the older woman enveloped her in a warm hug.

"Surprised to see me?"

Surprise didn't begin to cover it. Think of the devil and his mother appears. "Sure am. How are you, Mrs. Rule?"

"I'm well, darling. I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd come check out your little shop. It's nice." She glanced around, smiling. "Do you have time to sneak out for a while? I'd love to take you to lunch and we can have a nice, long chat."

A chat? Um, no. "I wish I could, but I'm working straight through. I've got appointments lined up all afternoon."

The older woman's face fell. "Oh, poo. That's too bad. Maybe I'll make an appointment and you can do my hair next week. I'm looking for someone new, anyway. That way we'll have plenty of time to talk."

"That sounds wonderful." That so did not sound wonderful. Angie grabbed a card from the reception desk and handed it to her. "Call anytime. I'd be honored to do your hair."

"Can we set it up now?"

"Umm," Angie faltered, "I don't see why not." Damn it.

She grabbed the appointment book and they quickly agreed on a date and time and then the other woman gave her a swift hug and began to leave. But before Angie could breathe a sigh of relief, the older woman stopped and said, "You're just as cute as a little button. I want you to know that it didn't take me long at all to realize that you'd be perfect for Damian. You look as if you're a spontaneous kind of girl, and that's exactly what my son needs in the rigid life he insists on leading."

Angie had no clue how to react or what to say and stumbled over her answer. "Thank you so much. I'll see you next week."

"I'll be here with bells on, darling."

Great. Just what Angie was afraid of.

****

On Angie's day off, she found herself standing in front of a large glass and steel building in the middle of downtown, staring up at it. She glanced back down at the business card Damian had given her and decided that she was definitely in the right place.

Had she made the correct decision to come here? That, she didn't know. She'd begun losing sleep from worrying about her appointment next week with his mother, and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what to do about it. Should she tell him? Did he have a clue that instead of meeting her and looking at her with contempt, his mother seemed to actually like her?

And why hadn't she just picked up the phone and called him? It would have been so simple to give him a head's up about his mother's upcoming visit. But no, she hadn't done that. She was standing in front of his building, refusing to believe that the reason for it was because she couldn't stay away from him, just as he'd earlier challenged.

She could stay away from him if she wanted to. Of course she could. She couldn't be controlled by her libido, not if she didn't allow it.

But who was to say that she shouldn't allow herself to see him? Who really cared if he was right? This wasn't about who was right or who was wrong. She was caught up in her own emotions and this didn't have anything to do with reason.

She acknowledged that he was one of the most compelling men she'd ever met, and the spark of excitement she was experiencing just looking up at the building where he worked was filling her drab life with animation.