guide you out. He said that by now your glasses would be fogged up."
Perhaps because she could not make out his features, she was acutely conscious of his voice. It was imbued with a deep, dark resonance that vibrated along her nerve endings. He spoke softly, but she could hear him quite clearly through the ancient music.
Instinctively she removed her glasses again. She batted impatiently at the seething mist. It parted just long enough to reveal a magician's enigmatic eyes and severe, ascetic features.
Merlin had returned to his cave.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"I'm Sloan."
A strange shiver shot down her spine. The glowing blue vapor seemed to intensify. She waved her hands frantically to clear her view.
"Darn it, I told Bolivar it was a mistake to go for the romantic atmosphere," she said.
"It usually is."
He gripped her arm with powerful fingers and led her out of the mist-filled cavern into the light of day.
4
« ^ »
H e had done business with plenty of women in the past, but he knew in his gut that this time things would be different. This woman was different.
Jasper paused briefly in the doorway of Olivia's small office. He barely managed to suppress a groan.
The desk was piled so high with papers, notebooks, and invoices that he could not see the surface. There were more papers on top of the computer.
On the other side of the room a file drawer stood open. The folders inside were crammed willy-nilly with documents. More folders, apparently waiting to be filed, were stacked perilously high on top of the cabinet. The air of busy clutter made him want to grind his teeth.
Without a word he made his way through the crowded space. He went to stand at the glass window that looked out over the studio.
The fact that his new business partner had no respect for order and organization was the least of his problems, he told himself. Of far more immediate concern was this intense, edgy awareness that arced through him. The office seemed very small with the two of them in it. He felt as if he stood in the center of a small electrical storm. Invisible energy crackled in the air.
Behind him he heard Olivia close the door. He glanced over his shoulder and watched her circle around behind her desk. As far as he could tell, she appeared blithely unaware of the sizzle in the atmosphere.
He had to fight the urge to watch every move she made. Something about her fascinated him. Probably the fact that she owned forty-nine percent of his new company, he thought grimly.
This is business, not sex. Get the right message to the hormones before they do something really, really stupid here
.
It had been sheer curiosity as much as his innate desire for information that had led him to stop at the Seattle Public Library before making his way to Light Fantastic today. He had found the year-old edition of
West Coast Neo
magazine and read the piece Crawford Lee Wilder had written about Logan Dane and his so-called Dark Muse.
Wilder had got it all wrong, Jasper decided. Olivia Chantry was not an arrogant, imperious, ball-busting Amazon with predatory marketing instincts. She was a sharp, intelligent, vital woman who gave off sexual sparks.
He swiftly reviewed the facts in the magazine article and compared them with the flesh-and-blood woman in front of him. He concluded immediately that Crawford Lee Wilder had probably been secretly intimidated by Olivia. The strength in her had obviously been more of a challenge than Wilder could handle. The journalist had taken his revenge by turning her into a notorious part of the Logan Dane legend.
She was tall, Jasper noted. In a pair of heels she would look him straight in the eye.
Her height and slender figure did interesting things to the long lines of her fluidly draped menswear-style trousers. The pale lime green linen shirt fell elegantly over small firm breasts.
The sculpted line of her shoulders and spine, together with the easy, energetic way she moved, hinted at the benefits of a
Perhaps because she could not make out his features, she was acutely conscious of his voice. It was imbued with a deep, dark resonance that vibrated along her nerve endings. He spoke softly, but she could hear him quite clearly through the ancient music.
Instinctively she removed her glasses again. She batted impatiently at the seething mist. It parted just long enough to reveal a magician's enigmatic eyes and severe, ascetic features.
Merlin had returned to his cave.
"Who are you?" she demanded.
"I'm Sloan."
A strange shiver shot down her spine. The glowing blue vapor seemed to intensify. She waved her hands frantically to clear her view.
"Darn it, I told Bolivar it was a mistake to go for the romantic atmosphere," she said.
"It usually is."
He gripped her arm with powerful fingers and led her out of the mist-filled cavern into the light of day.
4
« ^ »
H e had done business with plenty of women in the past, but he knew in his gut that this time things would be different. This woman was different.
Jasper paused briefly in the doorway of Olivia's small office. He barely managed to suppress a groan.
The desk was piled so high with papers, notebooks, and invoices that he could not see the surface. There were more papers on top of the computer.
On the other side of the room a file drawer stood open. The folders inside were crammed willy-nilly with documents. More folders, apparently waiting to be filed, were stacked perilously high on top of the cabinet. The air of busy clutter made him want to grind his teeth.
Without a word he made his way through the crowded space. He went to stand at the glass window that looked out over the studio.
The fact that his new business partner had no respect for order and organization was the least of his problems, he told himself. Of far more immediate concern was this intense, edgy awareness that arced through him. The office seemed very small with the two of them in it. He felt as if he stood in the center of a small electrical storm. Invisible energy crackled in the air.
Behind him he heard Olivia close the door. He glanced over his shoulder and watched her circle around behind her desk. As far as he could tell, she appeared blithely unaware of the sizzle in the atmosphere.
He had to fight the urge to watch every move she made. Something about her fascinated him. Probably the fact that she owned forty-nine percent of his new company, he thought grimly.
This is business, not sex. Get the right message to the hormones before they do something really, really stupid here
.
It had been sheer curiosity as much as his innate desire for information that had led him to stop at the Seattle Public Library before making his way to Light Fantastic today. He had found the year-old edition of
West Coast Neo
magazine and read the piece Crawford Lee Wilder had written about Logan Dane and his so-called Dark Muse.
Wilder had got it all wrong, Jasper decided. Olivia Chantry was not an arrogant, imperious, ball-busting Amazon with predatory marketing instincts. She was a sharp, intelligent, vital woman who gave off sexual sparks.
He swiftly reviewed the facts in the magazine article and compared them with the flesh-and-blood woman in front of him. He concluded immediately that Crawford Lee Wilder had probably been secretly intimidated by Olivia. The strength in her had obviously been more of a challenge than Wilder could handle. The journalist had taken his revenge by turning her into a notorious part of the Logan Dane legend.
She was tall, Jasper noted. In a pair of heels she would look him straight in the eye.
Her height and slender figure did interesting things to the long lines of her fluidly draped menswear-style trousers. The pale lime green linen shirt fell elegantly over small firm breasts.
The sculpted line of her shoulders and spine, together with the easy, energetic way she moved, hinted at the benefits of a
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