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Authors: Patricia Paris
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he
studied her. She'd never been good with long silences. They made her imagine
things—crazy, dangerous, impossible things.
Needing to ease the tension pulsing
between them, or maybe just through her, she said, "It's not very fair of
you, though. You're racking up favors, and I'm afraid I'll end up owing you big
time if you keep it up."
"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure
I'll find a way to collect." His words, although she knew held no hidden
meaning, sparked a whole new fantasy, one Abby would never allow herself to act
out.
CHAPTER
FOUR
" M y offer stands. If
Burns still insists it's too low, tell him I said it's been a pleasure doing
business and extend my best wishes finding another buyer."
Gage hung up the phone and went out
to the lobby. He hadn't been in the office an hour and already Brett had called
about a harassment charge against one of their senior managers, Grace had called
to inform him she was at the emergency room with a possible broken ankle, and
the owner of the leasing company he'd hoped to finalize a deal with two weeks
ago had decided to play hardball.
He flipped through Grace's card
file until he found the temporary agency she'd recommended. Glancing toward the
two empty desks on the other side of the lobby, he frowned. Where the hell was
the rest of the administrative staff?
He needed coffee. There wasn't any.
Grace always had it made before he got in. He didn't have time to be traipsing
down to the lobby cafe to get a damn cup of coffee. The elevator bell rang and
he spun around, his face taut.
"It's good of you two to
finally show up." He leveled a cool gaze on Barbara and Carol, the young
secretaries who stood rooted to a spot on the carpet just in front of the
elevator doors. Both of whom, he noticed, had their coffee.
"Would one of you care to
explain why you're strolling in at—" He checked his watch. "Eight
fifteen?"
The women looked at each other,
their identical expressions a study in nervous apprehension. They should be
nervous. In his current mood he felt tempted to confirm one or two of the
atrocities they believed him capable of.
Barbara bit her lip. "W-we
don't start until eight th -thirty, sir."
Gage fingered the card in his hand.
Damn. He knew that. If he hadn't spent such a sleepless night, waking in sweats
and frustratingly aroused from lustful dreams of Abigail Carpenter, he probably
would have remembered before making an ass of himself. He gave the women a
sidelong glance. Carol looked on the verge of getting sick or bursting into
tears, neither of which he cared to witness. Hell .
"Did you know lack of sleep
can cause memory loss?" They stared at him as if they weren't sure they
should respond and didn't want to chance saying the wrong thing if they did.
He put a hand in his pocket and
sighed. "Grace is at the emergency room with a possible broken
ankle." He crossed the lobby and handed the card he'd pulled to Barbara.
"This is the employment agency she recommended. See if you can get a temp
over here this morning."
Taking his wallet out of his back
pocket, he removed a five. "I haven't had any coffee yet, and I could
really use a cup right now." He looked at Carol. "Would you mind
going back downstairs to get me one?"
She nodded and took the money, her
eyes wide and uncertain. He felt like an ogre.
"Thank you." He gave a
half smile, then turned and went into his office. Anything more and they
probably would have thought they'd gotten off on the wrong floor.
Grace showed up two hours later
sporting a wrapped ankle and walking with a crutch. "It's only a
sprain," she explained when Gage told her she shouldn't have come in.
"The crutch is just for sympathy."
"Barbara and Carol asked me if
you were feeling all right," she said a short time later as she waited for
him to proof a bid she'd just prepared. Gage glanced up at her and hiked a
brow. "They said you smiled at them this morning."
He grinned sheepishly. "Tell
them they must have imagined it. It's bad for the
studied her. She'd never been good with long silences. They made her imagine
things—crazy, dangerous, impossible things.
Needing to ease the tension pulsing
between them, or maybe just through her, she said, "It's not very fair of
you, though. You're racking up favors, and I'm afraid I'll end up owing you big
time if you keep it up."
"Oh, don't worry. I'm sure
I'll find a way to collect." His words, although she knew held no hidden
meaning, sparked a whole new fantasy, one Abby would never allow herself to act
out.
CHAPTER
FOUR
" M y offer stands. If
Burns still insists it's too low, tell him I said it's been a pleasure doing
business and extend my best wishes finding another buyer."
Gage hung up the phone and went out
to the lobby. He hadn't been in the office an hour and already Brett had called
about a harassment charge against one of their senior managers, Grace had called
to inform him she was at the emergency room with a possible broken ankle, and
the owner of the leasing company he'd hoped to finalize a deal with two weeks
ago had decided to play hardball.
He flipped through Grace's card
file until he found the temporary agency she'd recommended. Glancing toward the
two empty desks on the other side of the lobby, he frowned. Where the hell was
the rest of the administrative staff?
He needed coffee. There wasn't any.
Grace always had it made before he got in. He didn't have time to be traipsing
down to the lobby cafe to get a damn cup of coffee. The elevator bell rang and
he spun around, his face taut.
"It's good of you two to
finally show up." He leveled a cool gaze on Barbara and Carol, the young
secretaries who stood rooted to a spot on the carpet just in front of the
elevator doors. Both of whom, he noticed, had their coffee.
"Would one of you care to
explain why you're strolling in at—" He checked his watch. "Eight
fifteen?"
The women looked at each other,
their identical expressions a study in nervous apprehension. They should be
nervous. In his current mood he felt tempted to confirm one or two of the
atrocities they believed him capable of.
Barbara bit her lip. "W-we
don't start until eight th -thirty, sir."
Gage fingered the card in his hand.
Damn. He knew that. If he hadn't spent such a sleepless night, waking in sweats
and frustratingly aroused from lustful dreams of Abigail Carpenter, he probably
would have remembered before making an ass of himself. He gave the women a
sidelong glance. Carol looked on the verge of getting sick or bursting into
tears, neither of which he cared to witness. Hell .
"Did you know lack of sleep
can cause memory loss?" They stared at him as if they weren't sure they
should respond and didn't want to chance saying the wrong thing if they did.
He put a hand in his pocket and
sighed. "Grace is at the emergency room with a possible broken
ankle." He crossed the lobby and handed the card he'd pulled to Barbara.
"This is the employment agency she recommended. See if you can get a temp
over here this morning."
Taking his wallet out of his back
pocket, he removed a five. "I haven't had any coffee yet, and I could
really use a cup right now." He looked at Carol. "Would you mind
going back downstairs to get me one?"
She nodded and took the money, her
eyes wide and uncertain. He felt like an ogre.
"Thank you." He gave a
half smile, then turned and went into his office. Anything more and they
probably would have thought they'd gotten off on the wrong floor.
Grace showed up two hours later
sporting a wrapped ankle and walking with a crutch. "It's only a
sprain," she explained when Gage told her she shouldn't have come in.
"The crutch is just for sympathy."
"Barbara and Carol asked me if
you were feeling all right," she said a short time later as she waited for
him to proof a bid she'd just prepared. Gage glanced up at her and hiked a
brow. "They said you smiled at them this morning."
He grinned sheepishly. "Tell
them they must have imagined it. It's bad for the
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