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playing around her mouth, so elusive he couldn't truly be sure it was really there.
    When the conference started, Keri blended into the background with the ease of a chameleon. Dain eyed her sourly, half admiring, half irritated at her consummate ability to efface herself. None of the other men at the conference seemed even aware of her presence, save as the sibilant slide of pencil over paper or the hand which passed coffee cups when breaks were taken to moisten throats dry from wrangling.
    Keri was an irritating burr in Dain's consciousness, unobtrusive but stabbing sharply at unexpected times. From the corner of his eye he discovered that he was distracted by the smooth length of shapely leg which was visible to him, free from the enigma of her face.
    If he swiveled his head a bit further, her hands came into his line of vision, tracing symbols with deft rapidity over the notebook. Graceful, long-fingered, with short, oval nails buffed to a healthy sheen but innocent of polish. She wore no rings, only a businesslike chain-linked watch to point to the delicacy of her wrists, and Dain wondered suddenly how a glowing emerald would look on those slender fingers. With irritated discipline he dismissed the fanciful thoughts and wrenched his attention back to the conference.
    Keri was well-satisfied with the course of the role she played. No man paid more than the most cursory of attention to her and if her lips curved into a self-congratulatory smile while she bent her head over her racing pencil, no one saw it, not even Dain. Her skills were extended but not overtaxed and she enjoyed the sensation, for she always welcomed a challenge, especially one she had no real difficulty in meeting.
    When the conference broke for a meal, Keri hung back, planning to find her own lunch and enjoy the break from the ceaseless recording. The men agreed to make do with a mere forty-five minutes of conviviality, but she was in no position to quibble. She'd take what she could get.
    The firm clasp around her elbow was unexpected and unwelcome. She looked down at the hand that held her so firmly and back up into the ironic green eyes, keeping what she hoped was a bland expression to match the one on the hard, handsome face that closely scrutinized her own.
    "Going somewhere, Miss Dalton?" asked the smooth, deep voice.
    "Yes, sir, to my lunch," she answered with surprise, which she hoped wasn't overdone.
    "Your lunch is this way, Miss Dalton, with me." As he was speaking, Dain was irresistibly propelling Keri along beside him, in the opposite direction from the one the other men were taking.
    Keri knew better than to argue. Docile, efficient secretaries never gainsay the boss, but her mouth was tight and her nostrils slightly pinched as she walked beside him to a single elevator, which he activated with a key. To her dismay, they rose instead of descending. Dain maintained his clasp on her elbow, slightly eased in strength, even while they were alone in the cubicle. Keri prayed earnestly that they wouldn't get trapped between floors through some freak celestial joke perpetrated by a malicious prankster of a god. She already knew, the farther away she could stay from Dain Randolph, the safer she'd be! There was danger in every one of his seventy-four inches of long bone and hard muscle.
    When the elevator slid smoothly to a stop, there was an agonizing pause before the doors opened to release them. Keri hoped that Dain hadn't noticed that she had been holding her breath and she tried not to let it all out in too audible a whoosh of relief. The commanding hand relentlessly urged her out of the elevator and they walked forward into a luxurious apartment.
    Through a floor-to-ceiling glass wall she could see a table laid for two on a small terrace. A silent-footed servant came forward, rather in the manner of a genie out of a bottle, and murmured greetings respectfully to Dain. He acknowledged the greeting and ordered the man to serve the salad while they