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L.A. and their little cubicle was silent after he left; her nerves began to fray under the strain. She ate an apple at her desk for lunch, not daring to risk going to the cafeteria or even venturing outside the building on the chance she might run into Rhy. She was beginning to feel like a prisoner!

    Shortly after lunch Greg called and said, "Come up here, Sal. I don't want to talk over the phone." Her heart leapt into her throat and she rushed up

    the stairs to the next floor. Greg's door was open, as usual, and she went in. Greg looked up from the papers he was reading and his expression was grim. "Rhy's secretary just called. He wants your file. I had to send it up. I had no choice. He hasn't returned from lunch yet, so you've got a few minutes of grace. I just thought I'd warn you."

    She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Thanks for trying," she said, and managed a whimsical little smile. "It was a dumb idea, anyway, trying to hide from him. He probably won't care one way or the other."

    Greg smiled in return, but his eyes were narrowed with worry as she left his office.

    Deep in thought and facing the fact that Rhy would know her identity very shortly, she punched the elevator button instead of taking the stairs. She took a deep breath and braced herself.

    Abruptly she realized that she was waiting for the elevator and the lights showed that it was coming up. Muttering to herself for her stupidity she turned on her heel and headed for the stairs, but just as she reached them the elevator doors slid open and a voice called, "Sallie Jerome! Wait a minute!"

    Her head jerked around and she stared at Rhy for several seconds, frozen in her tracks with horror, then she pulled the heavy door open and took a step, intending to run before she realized the futility of it.
    Rhy had taken a good look at her and the arrested expression on his face told her that she'd been recognized. She couldn't avoid it any longer; he now knew who she was and he wasn't a man to let the matter drop. She released the door and swung back to face him, her delicate jaw tilting upward pugnaciously. "You wanted to see me?" she challenged.

    He moved from his stance in front of the elevator and strode the few short yards that separated them.
    He looked taut, his skin pulled over his cheekbones, his mouth compressed into a thin line. "Sarah," he whispered savagely, his gray eyes leaping furiously.

    "Sallie," she corrected, flipping her braid over her shoulder. "I'm called Sallie now."

    His hand shot out and he gripped her wrist, his long fingers wrapping about the fragile bones as if to measure them. "You're not only called Sallie instead of Sarah, you're Jerome again instead of Baines,"
    he hissed, and she shivered with alarm. She knew Rhy's voice in all of his moods, the well-remembered husky quality made it distinctive. It was a voice that could sound whispery and menacing when he was angry, rasping when he was hammering out a point on television, or low and incredibly seductive when he was making love. A wild little frisson ran along her nerves at the tone she could detect in his voice now. Rhy was in a dangerous temper and it paid to be wary of him when he was angry.

    "I think you'd better come with me," he murmured, sliding his fingers from her wrist to her elbow and moving her to the elevator, "We've got a lot to say and I don't want to say it in the hallway."

    He retained his light but firm hold on her as they waited for the elevator to return to the floor and a copyboy stared at them as he walked down the hall to disappear into one of the offices. "Let go of me,"
    she whispered.

    "No way, Mrs. Baines," he refused in a soft tone. The bell sounded as the elevator reached their floor and the doors slid open. He moved forward with her into the box and the doors slid closed, leaving her totally alone with him in that small space. His forefinger jabbed the number for the administrative floor and the elevator lurched into movement.

    Sallie