victory. You must really have a soft spot in your heart for Chapman! You didn't put up much of a fight at all when he looked at you with that fatherly gaze and asked you to stay on for the sake of the business!"
She knew he was teasing her and would have given a great deal in that moment to get her own back. The mocking grin still curved his mouth and his craggy profile was set in the lines of masculine satisfaction.
"I hope you realize," she told him in a cool, silky voice, "that the agreement we just reached will be completely null and void if you so much as put a hand on me."
"I've already put a hand on you," he pointed out imperturbably. "But if you're worried about me mixing business and pleasure—don't. I wouldn't think of causing a lot of office gossip at work. However, after work is our own time, and I…"
"The clause applies to after work as well!" she snapped quickly.
"Then you should have made it part of the original agreement we reached back there at the country club,"
he chuckled. "You negotiated in haste, little one, and now you're stuck with the terms of the deal. For Lester's sake, of course!"
"Doesn't it bother you at all to resort to deliberately using a person's weak point?" she asked with a fair imitation of detached interest. She watched his competent handling of the wheel and the casual alertness of his driving as if she were studying an alien life form.
"Why should it? What's the point of dragging out a situation when it can be quickly finalized and the arrangement implemented?"
"And you wonder where you got your reputation for being ruthless!" she muttered tightly, turning to watch the palm trees that lined the street. It was getting late but there was still enough moon out to distinguish some of the jagged peaks of the mountains that encircled Phoenix.
He arched an eyebrow in arrogant humor. "What makes you think I wondered about that? Don't forget, by the way, you're supposed to be giving me driving directions."
Calla sighed in disgust and rattled them off. What was she getting so upset about, anyway? The man was annoying in the extreme, but hadn't she just spent a month proving she could handle him? True, she had been nervous, with a distinct feeling of being out of her league, but, ultimately, she had engineered good terms and there had been several occasions when she'd made Slade York back down. She could handle him. And she could handle the next three months, too, she told herself bracingly. Lester had been right in the implication that it would be better to have someone on the scene to prevent York from running roughshod over his new staff.
Under Calla's terse instructions, Slade found the sleek, modern Spanish-style condominium complex in the quiet Phoenix suburb and pulled into the parking lot with an approving nod.
"A nice place," he said, opening her car door a moment later. "Looks like you, in a way. Style combined with warmth."
Calla flashed a startled sideways glance at him as he walked her toward the door. "There's no warmth in me for you, Slade. Don't waste your time kidding yourself!"
"There's plenty of heat under the surface of that cool exterior of yours, Calla Nevin," he told her almost roughly. "And I'm going to…"
He broke off as they came to a halt in front of her door, his amber eyes glaring at the array of flowers sitting on the mat. A card dangled invitingly from the bouquet.
"What the hell is that?" he demanded accusingly.
"Well, I can't be positive, naturally, but at a rough guess, I'd say someone has sent me flowers," Calla said kindly, moving forward to pluck the card from where it hung. And he couldn't have done it at a more opportune time , she tacked on mentally, smiling slightly as she read the card. Without a word she dropped the note into her purse and bent down to pick up the bouquet.
"Would you mind getting the door for me, Slade?" she murmured, sniffing the nearest bloom contentedly.
"From Chapman?" Slade asked brusquely, taking her key and
She knew he was teasing her and would have given a great deal in that moment to get her own back. The mocking grin still curved his mouth and his craggy profile was set in the lines of masculine satisfaction.
"I hope you realize," she told him in a cool, silky voice, "that the agreement we just reached will be completely null and void if you so much as put a hand on me."
"I've already put a hand on you," he pointed out imperturbably. "But if you're worried about me mixing business and pleasure—don't. I wouldn't think of causing a lot of office gossip at work. However, after work is our own time, and I…"
"The clause applies to after work as well!" she snapped quickly.
"Then you should have made it part of the original agreement we reached back there at the country club,"
he chuckled. "You negotiated in haste, little one, and now you're stuck with the terms of the deal. For Lester's sake, of course!"
"Doesn't it bother you at all to resort to deliberately using a person's weak point?" she asked with a fair imitation of detached interest. She watched his competent handling of the wheel and the casual alertness of his driving as if she were studying an alien life form.
"Why should it? What's the point of dragging out a situation when it can be quickly finalized and the arrangement implemented?"
"And you wonder where you got your reputation for being ruthless!" she muttered tightly, turning to watch the palm trees that lined the street. It was getting late but there was still enough moon out to distinguish some of the jagged peaks of the mountains that encircled Phoenix.
He arched an eyebrow in arrogant humor. "What makes you think I wondered about that? Don't forget, by the way, you're supposed to be giving me driving directions."
Calla sighed in disgust and rattled them off. What was she getting so upset about, anyway? The man was annoying in the extreme, but hadn't she just spent a month proving she could handle him? True, she had been nervous, with a distinct feeling of being out of her league, but, ultimately, she had engineered good terms and there had been several occasions when she'd made Slade York back down. She could handle him. And she could handle the next three months, too, she told herself bracingly. Lester had been right in the implication that it would be better to have someone on the scene to prevent York from running roughshod over his new staff.
Under Calla's terse instructions, Slade found the sleek, modern Spanish-style condominium complex in the quiet Phoenix suburb and pulled into the parking lot with an approving nod.
"A nice place," he said, opening her car door a moment later. "Looks like you, in a way. Style combined with warmth."
Calla flashed a startled sideways glance at him as he walked her toward the door. "There's no warmth in me for you, Slade. Don't waste your time kidding yourself!"
"There's plenty of heat under the surface of that cool exterior of yours, Calla Nevin," he told her almost roughly. "And I'm going to…"
He broke off as they came to a halt in front of her door, his amber eyes glaring at the array of flowers sitting on the mat. A card dangled invitingly from the bouquet.
"What the hell is that?" he demanded accusingly.
"Well, I can't be positive, naturally, but at a rough guess, I'd say someone has sent me flowers," Calla said kindly, moving forward to pluck the card from where it hung. And he couldn't have done it at a more opportune time , she tacked on mentally, smiling slightly as she read the card. Without a word she dropped the note into her purse and bent down to pick up the bouquet.
"Would you mind getting the door for me, Slade?" she murmured, sniffing the nearest bloom contentedly.
"From Chapman?" Slade asked brusquely, taking her key and
Similar Books
When We Touch
Heather Graham
Before & After
Nazarea Andrews
Dark Mist Rising
Anna Kendall
Sexy Stepbrothers
C.C. Amore
Daughter of the Wind
Michael Cadnum
The Curse of the Campfire Weenies
David Lubar
Daughters of Fire
Barbara Erskine
Leaping
Diane Munier
Deep Fried Homicide (The Donut Shop Mysteries)
Jessica Beck
Memory of Love (9781101603024)
Linda Olsson