Riches to Rags Bride

Genevieve Patchett stared at the solid mahogany door of the office where she was scheduled to have the first job interview of her life. Despite being twenty-six, she had an empty resume, a lot of explaining to do and a stack of bills so high that her throat closed up every time she looked at it. And Lucas McDowell, the man who held her future and her very survival in his hands, was reputed to be a cold, hard businessman who only hired the best. She was not the best.

Reaching for the doorknob, her hand trembled and she gripped the knob tightly, turning her attention to getting in and trying to at least appear competent. She had to have this job. Her friend Teresa had gone out on a limb to get her this interview.

Genevieve opened the door just a touch…and immediately stopped. Muffled, angry sounds came from the other side of the door. Female sounds.

Getting louder.

Suddenly the door flew open, and she found herself staring at a tall, frowning brunette beauty.

Gen took a step back, and the woman barked out a harsh, ugly laugh. "Oh, don't run away, sweetheart. He's all yours now. Just be careful and don't fall for him. He doesn't have a soul." Tossing her head, the woman glanced back over her shoulder. "Lucas, your next victim is here."

With that, the woman moved down the hall, and Genevieve could finally get a good look at the broad-shouldered, dark-haired man standing behind a desk. For half a second she wondered if running was an option. Lucas McDowell might be wearing a suit most men couldn't afford to even dream of owning, but he had the strong-boned face of a street fighter, gunmetal-gray eyes that seemed to see right through to all her insecurities and…he was frowning. At her. Not at the disappearing back of the woman, but at her.

"Come in. Shut the door. Sit down," he said, motioning to a plush blue chair that faced the desk.

She did as he