Read Online Heart of Hurricane by Ginna Gray - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ginna Gray
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you deliberately made yourself as unattractive as you could?"
"Yes. It was my understanding that if I didn't, I'd never get past the preliminary interview." She gave him a challenging look, one delicate brow arching upward. "That is true, isn't it?"
"Perhaps," he hedged. "But don't you think your solution was a bit drastic?"
"I needed the job."
Ward plowed his hand through his hair and glared at her, his mouth thinned in annoyance. "For pity's sake! How long did you think you could get by with this masquerade?" His gaze raked over her beautiful face and curvaceous figure. "How could you even stand going around looking like that?"
"If I hadn't given in to a foolish whim last Friday, you would never have known," Althea stated haughtily, tilting her chin and daring him to contradict her. "And I told you, I need this job," she added, with soft emphasis on the word "need."
"So you can continue to coddle your brother?"
"I do not coddle Greg, I . . ." Althea clamped her mouth shut, cutting off the angry retort. She forced herself to settle back in the chair and release her grip on the arms. She was furious, absolutely enraged by the unfair question, but she couldn't afford to lose her temper. "I need the job to support myself and pay for Greg's education," she replied through stiff lips.
Interesting. Ward's deceptively lazy gaze ran over her rigid face. She has a temper, all right, but for some reason she keeps a tight rein on it. Why? Is she that afraid of being fired? Possibly, but I don't think that's it. At least, not completely. It's almost as though she's afraid to let go.
He had never been so intrigued by a woman in his life. And it wasn't just because she'd suddenly turned from an ugly duckling into a swan right before his eyes. Lately, more and more, Althea Winters had occupied his thoughts. Many times—while working, when he was alone in his apartment, even when he was out with other women—he would find himself thinking of her, wondering what she was doing, who she was with . . . and it had scared hell out of him. Never before in his life had he been attracted to a plain woman.
At the Masons' party, when he had discovered that his coolly efficient, spinsterish assistant was actually a breathtakingly lovely woman, his reaction had been a confusing mixture of pure joy and sheer outrage. For months he'd squirmed, like live bait on a hook. How dare she pull the wool over his eyes!
Yet, he was fiercely glad that she had, because she was right; looking as she did now, she would never have gotten past that old dragon Mrs. Perkins. Then he would never have met her. The very thought caused a queer little pain in his gut, and Ward frowned, not at all sure he liked the strange new sensations that seemed to be attacking him at every turn.
If you had any sense, Kingman, you'd tell her to hit the road and stay the hell away from you. You don't need this kind of complication in your life. His jaw clenched as his gaze ran over Althea's beautiful face and the slender curves outlined so lovingly by the soft silk dress. Absently he noted that she had terrific legs—long, lightly tanned and shapely, with delicate, trim ankles. Oh hell! Who are you kidding? You're not about to send her away.
So what the devil am I supposed to do with her? I sure as hell won't get much work done with her in the same office. He remembered how the dark blue gown she'd worn to the Masons' party had molded itself to her cute little rear, and groaned silently. He'd be an idiot to keep her around. Yet firing her was out of the question. There was no way he was going to let her walk out of his life. Not now. Besides, she was the best damned assistant he'd ever had. Ward propped an elbow on the arm of his chair, rested his chin on his fist and regarded her intently.
"Are you going to dismiss me, Mr. Kingman?" Althea asked suddenly, and Ward's gaze sharpened when he caught the tiny catch in her voice. Her face was composed, her blue-eyed gaze calm, but
"Yes. It was my understanding that if I didn't, I'd never get past the preliminary interview." She gave him a challenging look, one delicate brow arching upward. "That is true, isn't it?"
"Perhaps," he hedged. "But don't you think your solution was a bit drastic?"
"I needed the job."
Ward plowed his hand through his hair and glared at her, his mouth thinned in annoyance. "For pity's sake! How long did you think you could get by with this masquerade?" His gaze raked over her beautiful face and curvaceous figure. "How could you even stand going around looking like that?"
"If I hadn't given in to a foolish whim last Friday, you would never have known," Althea stated haughtily, tilting her chin and daring him to contradict her. "And I told you, I need this job," she added, with soft emphasis on the word "need."
"So you can continue to coddle your brother?"
"I do not coddle Greg, I . . ." Althea clamped her mouth shut, cutting off the angry retort. She forced herself to settle back in the chair and release her grip on the arms. She was furious, absolutely enraged by the unfair question, but she couldn't afford to lose her temper. "I need the job to support myself and pay for Greg's education," she replied through stiff lips.
Interesting. Ward's deceptively lazy gaze ran over her rigid face. She has a temper, all right, but for some reason she keeps a tight rein on it. Why? Is she that afraid of being fired? Possibly, but I don't think that's it. At least, not completely. It's almost as though she's afraid to let go.
He had never been so intrigued by a woman in his life. And it wasn't just because she'd suddenly turned from an ugly duckling into a swan right before his eyes. Lately, more and more, Althea Winters had occupied his thoughts. Many times—while working, when he was alone in his apartment, even when he was out with other women—he would find himself thinking of her, wondering what she was doing, who she was with . . . and it had scared hell out of him. Never before in his life had he been attracted to a plain woman.
At the Masons' party, when he had discovered that his coolly efficient, spinsterish assistant was actually a breathtakingly lovely woman, his reaction had been a confusing mixture of pure joy and sheer outrage. For months he'd squirmed, like live bait on a hook. How dare she pull the wool over his eyes!
Yet, he was fiercely glad that she had, because she was right; looking as she did now, she would never have gotten past that old dragon Mrs. Perkins. Then he would never have met her. The very thought caused a queer little pain in his gut, and Ward frowned, not at all sure he liked the strange new sensations that seemed to be attacking him at every turn.
If you had any sense, Kingman, you'd tell her to hit the road and stay the hell away from you. You don't need this kind of complication in your life. His jaw clenched as his gaze ran over Althea's beautiful face and the slender curves outlined so lovingly by the soft silk dress. Absently he noted that she had terrific legs—long, lightly tanned and shapely, with delicate, trim ankles. Oh hell! Who are you kidding? You're not about to send her away.
So what the devil am I supposed to do with her? I sure as hell won't get much work done with her in the same office. He remembered how the dark blue gown she'd worn to the Masons' party had molded itself to her cute little rear, and groaned silently. He'd be an idiot to keep her around. Yet firing her was out of the question. There was no way he was going to let her walk out of his life. Not now. Besides, she was the best damned assistant he'd ever had. Ward propped an elbow on the arm of his chair, rested his chin on his fist and regarded her intently.
"Are you going to dismiss me, Mr. Kingman?" Althea asked suddenly, and Ward's gaze sharpened when he caught the tiny catch in her voice. Her face was composed, her blue-eyed gaze calm, but
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