Read Online For Services Rendered by Patricia Kay - Free Book Online
Authors: Patricia Kay
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Claire refused to give way to the temptation to cry. Crying solved nothing. She'd learned that long ago when she had first received the news of her father's death and her mother's prognosis. She'd cried buckets of tears, and in the end she was still faced with the same problems.
She massaged her temples wearily, then stood. She had to try to put this problem out of her mind. She didn't know what she was going to be expected to do here in New Orleans, but the worst possible thing she could do right now was not give her full attention to her job. More than ever, she must be an exemplary employee. Nothing must jeopardize her only source of income. Perhaps if she did an outstanding job on the article about Nick, she would get a raise.
Nick. He had been so sweet today, had seemed so genuinely concerned about her. For one instant there, when his blue eyes had captured hers with such sympathy, she'd been tempted to confide in him. The burden of her knowledge and fear had been so great, she had almost weakened. But she'd caught herself in time.
He was her boss. It was important to her future with Callahan, International that she keep their relationship businesslike and professional. If she told him her personal problems, her status would change in his eyes. Also, she didn't want him to pity her. She didn't want anyone to pity her. The only thing holding her together right now was her pride.
But it
was
considerate and kind of him to ask. She wondered if all the stories she'd heard about Nick were true. They must be true. No one attained the wealth and power he had without a strong streak of ruthlessness. But after that first stubborn insistence that she take the assignment, he'd been nothing but kind and considerate to her. And he'd also been very compassionate in the face of Heather Ripley's angry and rude remark Saturday night. She wondered which was the real Nick Callahan—the steely and determined power broker or the kind and sensitive man she'd glimpsed today. Perhaps he was both.
Thinking about Nick reminded her that she had four hours before they were supposed to meet for dinner. She may as well take advantage of the free time. She decided to take a long, hot bath filled with some of the scented bath salts she'd noticed earlier. Then she would put on one of those thick terrycloth robes provided by the hotel and rest until it was time to dress. She hadn't lied to Nick about that; she really hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. For the remainder of the trip she would try not to think about Kitty or money or anything except her current assignment.
When she returned to Houston was time enough to deal with everything else.
* * *
Nick worked in his suite until six. Then he shaved, took a quick, hot shower and, wrapped in the thick maroon robe provided by the hotel, poured himself a crystal tumbler of J&B. He sipped at the drink and gazed out the window at the busy street below. He was looking forward to the evening ahead. He hoped Claire was feeling better; he wanted her to enjoy herself tonight.
The minute he saw her walking toward him in the lobby of the hotel forty-five minutes later, he knew her spirits were greatly improved. She looked beautiful tonight, he thought. She was wearing a wool dress with a deep vee neckline and softly flaring skirt in a shade of dark forest green, the perfect complement to her fair hair and delicate complexion. Over her arm was the silver fox jacket she'd worn Saturday night. She'd done something different to her hair, too. It looked fuller and fluffier, framing her face like a golden cloud. She reminded him of pictures he'd seen of the young Grace Kelly, with her combination of classy elegance and hint of sexy mischief.
He saw the way eyes followed Claire's progress through the lobby and felt a surge of possessiveness. "You look lovely tonight," he said as he helped her with her coat. A light, flowery scent teased his senses. "Did you have a chance to rest?"
She smiled and
She massaged her temples wearily, then stood. She had to try to put this problem out of her mind. She didn't know what she was going to be expected to do here in New Orleans, but the worst possible thing she could do right now was not give her full attention to her job. More than ever, she must be an exemplary employee. Nothing must jeopardize her only source of income. Perhaps if she did an outstanding job on the article about Nick, she would get a raise.
Nick. He had been so sweet today, had seemed so genuinely concerned about her. For one instant there, when his blue eyes had captured hers with such sympathy, she'd been tempted to confide in him. The burden of her knowledge and fear had been so great, she had almost weakened. But she'd caught herself in time.
He was her boss. It was important to her future with Callahan, International that she keep their relationship businesslike and professional. If she told him her personal problems, her status would change in his eyes. Also, she didn't want him to pity her. She didn't want anyone to pity her. The only thing holding her together right now was her pride.
But it
was
considerate and kind of him to ask. She wondered if all the stories she'd heard about Nick were true. They must be true. No one attained the wealth and power he had without a strong streak of ruthlessness. But after that first stubborn insistence that she take the assignment, he'd been nothing but kind and considerate to her. And he'd also been very compassionate in the face of Heather Ripley's angry and rude remark Saturday night. She wondered which was the real Nick Callahan—the steely and determined power broker or the kind and sensitive man she'd glimpsed today. Perhaps he was both.
Thinking about Nick reminded her that she had four hours before they were supposed to meet for dinner. She may as well take advantage of the free time. She decided to take a long, hot bath filled with some of the scented bath salts she'd noticed earlier. Then she would put on one of those thick terrycloth robes provided by the hotel and rest until it was time to dress. She hadn't lied to Nick about that; she really hadn't gotten much sleep the night before. For the remainder of the trip she would try not to think about Kitty or money or anything except her current assignment.
When she returned to Houston was time enough to deal with everything else.
* * *
Nick worked in his suite until six. Then he shaved, took a quick, hot shower and, wrapped in the thick maroon robe provided by the hotel, poured himself a crystal tumbler of J&B. He sipped at the drink and gazed out the window at the busy street below. He was looking forward to the evening ahead. He hoped Claire was feeling better; he wanted her to enjoy herself tonight.
The minute he saw her walking toward him in the lobby of the hotel forty-five minutes later, he knew her spirits were greatly improved. She looked beautiful tonight, he thought. She was wearing a wool dress with a deep vee neckline and softly flaring skirt in a shade of dark forest green, the perfect complement to her fair hair and delicate complexion. Over her arm was the silver fox jacket she'd worn Saturday night. She'd done something different to her hair, too. It looked fuller and fluffier, framing her face like a golden cloud. She reminded him of pictures he'd seen of the young Grace Kelly, with her combination of classy elegance and hint of sexy mischief.
He saw the way eyes followed Claire's progress through the lobby and felt a surge of possessiveness. "You look lovely tonight," he said as he helped her with her coat. A light, flowery scent teased his senses. "Did you have a chance to rest?"
She smiled and
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