Read Online Deceptive Love by Anne N. Reisser - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Anne N. Reisser
Ads: Link
Dain drawled.
"No!" Keri snapped, up to her ears with men in general and Schyler in particular, and certainly in no mood for complicated explanations to a man whose business it wasn't anyway. In more moderate tones she continued. "I don't suppose it will do me any good to say that I'd prefer to take my own car?"
He shook his head just once and she picked up her purse from where she had laid it down to answer the phone, prepared to precede him from the apartment with no good grace. He tested the door to be sure it had locked firmly behind them, followed her to the elevator, and leaned around her to punch the summoning button. Without moving an inch, she seemed to compress slightly to avoid the slightest physical contact with him. His mouth took on an ominous tightness and when the elevator door opened at their floor, he grasped her elbow firmly to usher her inside.
She stood stiffly and quietly by his side during the short descent, too wise to make an issue by pulling away from him, but sharply conscious of the hard strength of his fingers and the warmth of his palm as it lay against the inside of her elbow. Even through the fabric of her sleeve the heat of his body reached out to hers and she was starkly aware again of his personal, potent masculinity.
He was driving a steel blue Mercedes tonight and the rich smell of leather enfolded her as she sank into the soft seat. He drove as he did most things, with a competent arrogance, showing a nicety of judgment and control which would have done credit to a Le Mans competitor. Some strong emotion roiled him—she could tell by the stiff set of his shoulders and the jut of his chin—but it didn't affect the smoothness of his reflexes. With a faint flicker of humor she decided that he wasn't used to anything less than enthusiastic acceptance of offers of his company and he wasn't finding the sensation pleasant or salubrious.
Perversely, the knowledge that she had annoyed him made Keri much more cheerful. She even leaned back against the seat and admired the burled wood fittings of the dashboard. It really was a very nice car. She ran a questing finger over the leather upholstery of the side panel nearest her and watched the lights of the city flow past outside the car window. A small, wholly feminine smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and was duly noted by the man who wasn't looking at her, but nonetheless knew every move she made and every shade of expression which flitted across her face.
"Pleased with yourself, are you?" he spoke into the silence.
Keri debated internally for a fraction of a second and decided incomprehension was her safest course. "Pleased with myself?" she questioned quietly. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
"The butterfly has burst forth in glory. You're a lovely woman, Keri. It must be a relief to put away that childish masquerade and shed the drab skin. Was it fun playing dress-up, or in your case, dress-down?" There was a savage bite to the words which belied the even tone.
"Mr. Randolph, I began my masquerade as you term it, for good and sufficient reasons, the validity of which I still have no cause to doubt. I am sorry you were offended by my former appearance, but I was perfectly happy to remain Mr. Simonds's secretary. My appearance was a matter of indifference to him!" Keri was in a fine rage by the time she had finished the scathing words. By now she didn't care if he fired her on the spot.
Surprisingly, he laughed. "Calm down, little fireball," he advised her. "You're my secretary now and your appearance is not a matter of indifference to me. Just why did you begin this masquerade? I presume you didn't carry it over into your off-duty hours as well."
"No," she responded tautly. "It wasn't necessary. I simply got tired of having to leave jobs because the boss thought it was fun to chase me around the desk." She shrugged slightly and continued. "So I asked my godfather, Charles Lawson, to find me a boss who looked at no woman but his
"No!" Keri snapped, up to her ears with men in general and Schyler in particular, and certainly in no mood for complicated explanations to a man whose business it wasn't anyway. In more moderate tones she continued. "I don't suppose it will do me any good to say that I'd prefer to take my own car?"
He shook his head just once and she picked up her purse from where she had laid it down to answer the phone, prepared to precede him from the apartment with no good grace. He tested the door to be sure it had locked firmly behind them, followed her to the elevator, and leaned around her to punch the summoning button. Without moving an inch, she seemed to compress slightly to avoid the slightest physical contact with him. His mouth took on an ominous tightness and when the elevator door opened at their floor, he grasped her elbow firmly to usher her inside.
She stood stiffly and quietly by his side during the short descent, too wise to make an issue by pulling away from him, but sharply conscious of the hard strength of his fingers and the warmth of his palm as it lay against the inside of her elbow. Even through the fabric of her sleeve the heat of his body reached out to hers and she was starkly aware again of his personal, potent masculinity.
He was driving a steel blue Mercedes tonight and the rich smell of leather enfolded her as she sank into the soft seat. He drove as he did most things, with a competent arrogance, showing a nicety of judgment and control which would have done credit to a Le Mans competitor. Some strong emotion roiled him—she could tell by the stiff set of his shoulders and the jut of his chin—but it didn't affect the smoothness of his reflexes. With a faint flicker of humor she decided that he wasn't used to anything less than enthusiastic acceptance of offers of his company and he wasn't finding the sensation pleasant or salubrious.
Perversely, the knowledge that she had annoyed him made Keri much more cheerful. She even leaned back against the seat and admired the burled wood fittings of the dashboard. It really was a very nice car. She ran a questing finger over the leather upholstery of the side panel nearest her and watched the lights of the city flow past outside the car window. A small, wholly feminine smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and was duly noted by the man who wasn't looking at her, but nonetheless knew every move she made and every shade of expression which flitted across her face.
"Pleased with yourself, are you?" he spoke into the silence.
Keri debated internally for a fraction of a second and decided incomprehension was her safest course. "Pleased with myself?" she questioned quietly. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
"The butterfly has burst forth in glory. You're a lovely woman, Keri. It must be a relief to put away that childish masquerade and shed the drab skin. Was it fun playing dress-up, or in your case, dress-down?" There was a savage bite to the words which belied the even tone.
"Mr. Randolph, I began my masquerade as you term it, for good and sufficient reasons, the validity of which I still have no cause to doubt. I am sorry you were offended by my former appearance, but I was perfectly happy to remain Mr. Simonds's secretary. My appearance was a matter of indifference to him!" Keri was in a fine rage by the time she had finished the scathing words. By now she didn't care if he fired her on the spot.
Surprisingly, he laughed. "Calm down, little fireball," he advised her. "You're my secretary now and your appearance is not a matter of indifference to me. Just why did you begin this masquerade? I presume you didn't carry it over into your off-duty hours as well."
"No," she responded tautly. "It wasn't necessary. I simply got tired of having to leave jobs because the boss thought it was fun to chase me around the desk." She shrugged slightly and continued. "So I asked my godfather, Charles Lawson, to find me a boss who looked at no woman but his
Similar Books
