Goodness gracious.

The man had a great ass. Full, defined, and filling out the seat of his jeans just perfectly. Morgan fought the instinctive blush that heated her cheeks, decided her moments of voyeurism were officially over, and gave a discreet cough.

The man whirled around.

Goodness gracious.

She stared into a pair of gunmetal-gray eyes that should’ve been cold and hard. Instead, they held smoky tones of a raw sensuality and confidence no man should hold. He had a large hooked nose and bushy brows, and his face was a mass of sharp, slashed lines that held together his features in an arresting way. Not classically handsome. Not pretty. But this was a man who knew what he wanted, took without apology, and never looked back.

Her thighs trembled and her panties dampened.

What on earth was happening?

“Who are you?” he demanded.

Who was she? Her brain clicked back on, and Morgan suddenly remembered. She had to tread carefully if she was going to leave with her goal accomplished. She gave him a warm, professional smile and made sure her voice was steady. “You must be Caleb Pierce. The, uh, gentleman outside said to come in. I’m Morgan Raines.”

One brow shot up, and he rubbed a hand over his head, messing up his hair even more. “I don’t know you. And if that was my asshole brother, you can tell him to grow up and stop acting like a toddler.”

She refused to bend to his rudeness. “Funny, he used the same term when he spoke about you.”

The man gave a humorless laugh and went back to his drink. “Yeah, we’re a real tight-knit family. Welcome to the fun house. Can you close the door on the way out?”

She lifted her chin. Great. Already she realized working with Caleb Pierce was going to be a bit . . . difficult. Lucky for her, she didn’t give up easily. “Mr. Pierce, I’m here on behalf of my clients, Mr. and Mrs. Slate Rosenthal. I contacted you a few weeks back about building a house for them in Harrington on a recently secured piece of property on the harbor.”

She hoped the celebrity name-dropping would make him turn back around, but he either lived under a rock or didn’t care. “Name sounds familiar. Wait, I do remember. I told you no. I’m dealing with some other shit now and can’t take on a new job. Sorry. Close the door, please.”

Her ankle had turned into a full-blown ache, but she refused to shift her position. A show of strength at the beginning of any encounter was key to setting up the dynamics of a business relationship. “Mr. Pierce, I’m here to change your mind. It’s imperative to my clients your company be the one to build their house. I’d like to discuss the benefits and terms with you. I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

He had another long sip from his glass. She waited. Finally he glanced back. “I don’t change my mind, princess. Now, I’m sure you can find another company to get you what you need. My assistant can get you a list of names. Just leave your business card on the way out.”

This time, he deliberately turned his back and walked away. He sat at his desk, put his drink on the blotter, and began clicking away at the keyboard like she was some type of lowly, annoying gnat he’d just batted away. Princess? Was he kidding?

Disappointment flowed. He was going to be a real prize to work with, but she’d better wrap her head around it and deal. Morgan shut the door with a decided click, noting he didn’t even bother to look up to see if she’d left. His brother was correct: he was an asshole.

She walked back over to the desk and waited. After a few moments, he stopped typing and looked up. His brows snapped together in pure annoyance. “You’re still here.”

Morgan smiled. “Yes. I don’t think you understand, Mr. Pierce. I’m not interested in any other companies. I want Pierce Brothers. I’m also going to need to go over the initial plans with your architect and make sure we can start immediately. The house must be done by the end of fall. Mr. and Mrs. Rosenthal need to be settled in Harrington on their estate in order to be ready for filming. I can imagine how full your schedule is, but once you see my proposal, I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out.”

He seemed to break out of his fog and realize she wasn’t going away. Satisfaction cut through her, until that hard gaze began at the top of her head and raked over her figure all the way down to her peekaboo shoes that showed her tasteful pink polish matching her fingernails. Morgan also noticed he seemed to spend way too much time on the thrust of her breasts from her very proper blouse, and the length of her calves, since the white business suit stopped at the knee in a perfectly conservative way. Morgan prepared herself to feel harassed or bullied, but instead, her skin tingled with anticipation. So odd. She should be positively insulted and disgusted by his male behavior. What was it about his smoky eyes that stripped her clothes from her body, saw everything underneath, and made her feel like a sexual wanton? And why, oh, why did she like it?

Her brain misfired along with her hormones, but Morgan held tight to her stance and met his stare head-on. She’d learned men respected strength. She usually won her battles by keeping her stubborn silence, waiting them out, and presenting a professional front.

Too bad inside her clothes she felt all itchy, turned-on, and completely nonprofessional.

But Caleb Pierce never had to know.

Those full lips twitched in a half smirk. Almost as if he guessed her thoughts and figured it might be fun to toy with her. Too bad for him she’d gone through tons of confrontations with arrogant billionaires, diva celebrities, and demanding teen pop stars who wanted their way and refused to compromise. Morgan had learned from the best. A simple contractor wouldn’t get in her way.

“You have mud on your skirt.”

She never lost a beat. “I encountered the two Cujos in your foyer and realized they wanted to kill me in a way I wasn’t prepared for. We wrestled, and I won.”

“Never heard Balin and Gandalf called Cujos before. You’d be in more danger of being licked to death.”

“Tolkien fan, huh? Nice. Still, I wouldn’t term them a great welcome committee for new clients.”

“I don’t want any new clients, so they work great for me.”

“You won’t need any other clients after you take the Rosenthal job. You’ll be able to pick and choose to your liking.”

“I’m in a bad mood, princess. Sure you want to take me on now?”