Read Online Heart of Hurricane by Ginna Gray - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ginna Gray
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her waist. Long full sleeves, whose wide French cuffs were fastened with tiny pearl cufflinks, softened the garment's mannish cut. She left the top two buttons of the dress open, exposing the graceful line of her bare throat. In her ears she wore tiny pearl studs, and around her left arm clipped a fine gold chain. Her shoes were high-heeled white leather sandals.
But when it came to her hair, rebellion set in. Telling herself that he had only insisted that she discard her dowdy clothes, Althea stubbornly twisted her golden hair into a loose chignon on the back of her head.
Hoping to avoid most of her fellow workers, she deliberately arrived at the office early. She was in no condition to contend with the stir her changed appearance was bound to cause. She was also hoping she would have a chance to calm down and get herself in hand before her boss arrived.
No such luck. She had barely deposited her purse in the bottom drawer of her desk when Ward called through the open door that separated their offices. "Get in here, Miss Winters."
With a sigh, Althea squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and started for the door. She felt like a condemned prisoner taking her last walk.
Sweet heaven, she's beautiful. Excitement spread through Ward's body as he watched Althea glide toward him. Slowly, methodically, his eyes savored every detail of her appearance, starting at her dainty feet and working up over her shapely legs, the utterly feminine dress and the alluring curves it covered, all the way to the cameo perfection of her lovely face. He felt a spurt of anger when his eyes encountered her severe hairstyle, but not by so much as a twitch did his impassive features reveal his inner feelings.
"Sit down, Miss Winters."
As she complied, he rose and came around the desk. Althea fixed her eyes on the onyx-and-gold pen-and-pencil set directly in front of her. When he passed her chair, she assumed he was headed for the credenza which held the coffeepot. A demanding and difficult employer he might be, but to Ward's credit, he had never expected her to wait on him.
"Oh! What are you doing?" she cried when she felt his fingers digging into the chignon on the back of her head. "Stop that!"
Althea tried to stand, but a hard hand clamped on her shoulder and held her in place while nimble fingers searched through the coil of blond hair. Rapidly the metal hairpins rained to the floor, hitting the carpet in a series of soft plops. Althea's outraged sputtering was ignored, and within seconds the silky tresses were tumbling free. Using both hands, Ward ran his fingers through the golden mass and spread it across her shoulders.
"There, that's better," he stated with hard satisfaction. "Now, leave it that way." To Althea's utter astonishment, he calmly walked back around the desk and sat down.
Indignation swelled in her chest until she thought she would surely burst. She was quivering with outrage and longed to tell him exactly what she thought of his high-handed tactics, but the look in his eyes warned her that she would lose if she pressed the issue. Teeth clamped tightly together, she stared at him in cold silence.
Unperturbed, Ward returned the look for several strained moments. She aroused in him a curious mixture of anger, desire and uncertainty. He was absolutely furious with her for deceiving him, and yet he could not help but admire her spunk. And there was no denying that he found her ravishing and utterly fascinating.
"Suppose you start by telling me exactly why you felt it necessary to hide behind that hideous disguise?" he demanded gruffly, angered by the trend of his thoughts. "I was told that, in the office at least, you didn't care for attractive women," Althea replied as steadily as she could manage. One of his dark brows lifted, telling her he had caught the little dig, and she felt an instant flick of satisfaction. "Mrs. Fisher?"
"Yes." There was no point in lying. It was obvious where she'd gotten her information.
"So
But when it came to her hair, rebellion set in. Telling herself that he had only insisted that she discard her dowdy clothes, Althea stubbornly twisted her golden hair into a loose chignon on the back of her head.
Hoping to avoid most of her fellow workers, she deliberately arrived at the office early. She was in no condition to contend with the stir her changed appearance was bound to cause. She was also hoping she would have a chance to calm down and get herself in hand before her boss arrived.
No such luck. She had barely deposited her purse in the bottom drawer of her desk when Ward called through the open door that separated their offices. "Get in here, Miss Winters."
With a sigh, Althea squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and started for the door. She felt like a condemned prisoner taking her last walk.
Sweet heaven, she's beautiful. Excitement spread through Ward's body as he watched Althea glide toward him. Slowly, methodically, his eyes savored every detail of her appearance, starting at her dainty feet and working up over her shapely legs, the utterly feminine dress and the alluring curves it covered, all the way to the cameo perfection of her lovely face. He felt a spurt of anger when his eyes encountered her severe hairstyle, but not by so much as a twitch did his impassive features reveal his inner feelings.
"Sit down, Miss Winters."
As she complied, he rose and came around the desk. Althea fixed her eyes on the onyx-and-gold pen-and-pencil set directly in front of her. When he passed her chair, she assumed he was headed for the credenza which held the coffeepot. A demanding and difficult employer he might be, but to Ward's credit, he had never expected her to wait on him.
"Oh! What are you doing?" she cried when she felt his fingers digging into the chignon on the back of her head. "Stop that!"
Althea tried to stand, but a hard hand clamped on her shoulder and held her in place while nimble fingers searched through the coil of blond hair. Rapidly the metal hairpins rained to the floor, hitting the carpet in a series of soft plops. Althea's outraged sputtering was ignored, and within seconds the silky tresses were tumbling free. Using both hands, Ward ran his fingers through the golden mass and spread it across her shoulders.
"There, that's better," he stated with hard satisfaction. "Now, leave it that way." To Althea's utter astonishment, he calmly walked back around the desk and sat down.
Indignation swelled in her chest until she thought she would surely burst. She was quivering with outrage and longed to tell him exactly what she thought of his high-handed tactics, but the look in his eyes warned her that she would lose if she pressed the issue. Teeth clamped tightly together, she stared at him in cold silence.
Unperturbed, Ward returned the look for several strained moments. She aroused in him a curious mixture of anger, desire and uncertainty. He was absolutely furious with her for deceiving him, and yet he could not help but admire her spunk. And there was no denying that he found her ravishing and utterly fascinating.
"Suppose you start by telling me exactly why you felt it necessary to hide behind that hideous disguise?" he demanded gruffly, angered by the trend of his thoughts. "I was told that, in the office at least, you didn't care for attractive women," Althea replied as steadily as she could manage. One of his dark brows lifted, telling her he had caught the little dig, and she felt an instant flick of satisfaction. "Mrs. Fisher?"
"Yes." There was no point in lying. It was obvious where she'd gotten her information.
"So
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