Sparks Fly

where they belonged.
    “Are you a programmer?”
    Will was stunned. “You don’t know what I do for a living?”
    “We didn’t exactly have time for you to tell me the first time we met, did we?”
    More than a little surprised that she didn’t know who he was, he said, “Again, I apologize for that.”
    Giving him a small smile that made his heart beat a little faster, she said, “So, you don’t program computers?”
    Feeling relieved, thinking that maybe for once he wouldn’t have to be on guard against another woman who only wanted to be with him for the notoriety of dating one of America’s richest, most eligible bachelors, he leaned back against the kitchen counter, perfectly happy to let her think he was just an average rich guy.
    “When I was first out of college, I used to program. But I haven’t done any serious coding in years.” He looked pensive and admitted, “Lately I’ve been missing the old days.”
    “Why?”
    “I used to solve puzzles and create things. Now, I spend all day dealing with problems.”
    His inner voice taunted him. Hey, buddy, it’s pretty hard to be wealthy enough to buy a small island, isn’t it? Boo-hoo for you.
    He didn’t know why he was telling Angelina any of this. Usually, he was either focused on expansion and profits, or occasionally hanging out with his business-school buddies talking sports.
    Even with his ex-wife he had maintained an emotional distance.
    Giving Angelina a sheepish look, he said, “I don’t mean to be standing here complaining. Not when I have—” He gestured to his home. “—all this.”

    “The Western spin on Feng Shui tends to be all about making more money, but it’s really about finding a place where your heart can be happy and at peace.” Looking charmingly self-conscious, she added, “I have a tendency to get on a soap box from time to time.”
    “No worries. I don’t see any suds on the floor.”
    Angelina gave Will a crooked half-smile that knocked his socks off. “How about you show me your home office next?”
    As Angelina followed Will out of the living room, she tried to reconcile his admission about missing computer programming with her initial picture of him as a spoiled rich boy.
    Get a grip, Angelina, she repeated over and over in her head, training her eyes on the oak flooring instead of the temptation before her.
    Caught up in controlling her raging hormones, Angelina plowed into him, hugging him like a spoon, her front to his back, her arms wrapped around his rippling six-pack. And then he turned around in her arms and his mouth was mere inches from hers.
    She was about to meet him halfway when her inner voice cried, Stop throwing yourself at your client!
    Just go away, she told it, but steadfast in its purpose, her inner voice of no fun turned up another notch.
    Don’t forget, his ex-wife wants him back!
    It was a supreme effort to pull away. Trying to put some distance between them, she stumbled into the foyer’s stair rail.
    No longer seared with the heat of Will’s body, Angelina quickly cooled down.
    Will looked just as stunned as she felt.
    On one level, she wished that she could leap back into his arms, but she knew it was impossible under the helm of their client-consultation relationship.
    Clearly, there was only one way for either of them to proceed: They both needed to act as if the almost-kiss had never happened.
    “My office is right around the corner,” Will said in a slightly husky voice before disappearing into a room to his right.
    His telephone had been ringing constantly since her arrival, but true to his word, he had ignored it. Until now. But when she walked into his office, she was so shocked by the utter chaos of the room that she temporarily forgot about her no-phone-calls rule.
    It was one of the messiest rooms she had ever seen.
    She quickly figured out that, according to Feng Shui, Will’s just-been-hit-by-a-cyclone office sat smack dab in the Reputation area of his house. Odds were he was having trouble getting respect from customers and staff alike. The snippets of conversation that she overheard as she carefully picked her way through the piles of papers and boxes confirmed her suspicions.
    Will bit off into the phone, “I’m only going to say this one more time. We are going forward with our plans. I don’t care what Albert is telling the board about competitive repercussions.” Hanging up, he turned to face Angelina. “Welcome to my office,” he said