Читать книгу Millionaire's Wedding Revenge / Stranded with the Tempting Stranger - Brenda Jackson - Страница 10
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When Stephen showed up at her office two days later, Megan was prepared to act as if their encounter in the Garrison Grand’s conference room had never happened.
She gritted her teeth now as she led the way down the hall to Elkind, Ross’s storage rooms, where they kept fabrics, carpets and wall coverings.
She was determined to keep this an all-business relationship even if it killed her.
She could feel his presence behind her—authoritative, confident, all male—and wished now she’d worn something more severe than a wrap dress and heels to work today.
They stepped into the secluded and very empty storage room, and Megan couldn’t help thinking that there were some requirements of her job that she could easily do without right now.
Stephen looked around at the shelves surrounding them. They were all piled high with materials.
“So this is what things really look like around here,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. “I was beginning to think, judging from your austere office, that this was a place where even a paper clip wouldn’t dare to be out of place.”
“I haven’t had a chance to settle in yet,” she responded.
Let him think what he liked, she thought. She didn’t want him getting any hints of her life as it was now.
She walked toward the back of the room to search for the samples she was looking for, and he followed, then stopped beside her. In his dark pinstripe suit, he pulled off the look of restrained power effortlessly.
Retrieving a small chip from a cardboard box, she said, “This is a sample of the type of wall covering I’d like to use in the conference rooms.”
As he took the chip from her, their hands brushed, sending awareness shooting through her.
“As you can see,” she went on, determined to ignore the sensation, “it’s not quite white, but close enough, I think.”
“Right,” he muttered, but his eyes were focused on her, not the sample in his hand.
She scooted over to another shelf. “And these are examples of the fabrics I’d like to use. This is the white leather—” she tapped a bolt of fabric “—and this is the midnight velvet.”
She watched him feel the leather, his tanned hands dark against the lightness of the fabric, and an erotic charge went through her.
Cursing her wayward mind, and seeking to distract both him and herself, she yanked the bolt of velvet fabric forward with more force than necessary.
“As you can see, the color has a depth and a richness to it that make it more than merely navy-blue. It’s plush, and at the same time, fairly easy to clean thanks to the wonders of new industrial processes.”
He reached out and touched the fabric, his hand slowly stroking over it.
She nearly gulped. It was impossible, she belatedly realized, to have this conversation without a sexual subtext.
“You’re right,” he said, gazing directly at her. “It’s…sinful.”
She could see amusement lurking in his eyes. Damn him. He knew exactly the effect this conversation was having on her.
The sudden ring of a phone made her jump and broke the spell.
Stephen arched a brow.
“We keep a phone in the supply room,” she explained, hurrying over to a nearby cabinet, “in case anyone needs to be reached while they’re working.”
While they’re being seduced by the look in a client’s eyes.
Picking up the phone, she said, “Hello?”
“Megan, it’s Tiffany.”
What a time for her babysitter to call! Maybe it hadn’t been such a great idea to tell her secretary to forward any important calls. She cast an involuntary look at Stephen from the corner of her eyes.
“Is anything wrong?” she asked.
“Just checking in.”
She groaned inwardly. “Thanks. That’s thoughtful.”
“Jade wants to go to the park,” Tiffany continued, “so we might not be here when you arrive home. I didn’t want you to worry, so I thought I’d call now. If we don’t beat you back, we’ll be on the way.”
“That’s fine.”
“We might stop for some ice cream.”
“Just remember what she’s allergic to,” she responded in a lowered voice.
“Will do.”
When she hung up, Stephen asked, “Is everything okay? I heard you mention the word allergic.”
She thought frantically, even as she struggled to appear composed.
“Ah, it’s a client I’m taking to lunch,” she fibbed. “I was just reminding my secretary to bear in mind what the client is allergic to when making reservations.” She waved her hand around. “You know, ah, ethnic cuisine and all.”
“Right.”
She cleared her throat. Time to get out of the pressure cooker that the storage room had turned into. “If you follow me back to my office, we can consider the layout of the Garrison Grand redesign in greater detail.”
What was Megan hiding? She’d appeared furtive when speaking on the phone in the storage room earlier in the day.
Stephen stared out the window of his office, his fingers steepled, his feet crossed on his desk.
He knew she wasn’t married. She didn’t wear a ring, and he figured Megan would be one to change her surname when she got married.
Maybe there was a boyfriend in the picture.
His lips thinned at the thought of Megan with another man. Still, her reaction to his asking for a date hadn’t been to say she was seeing someone. She’d been about to say something, but he was fairly sure it wasn’t that. She would have finished her thought otherwise, because a steady boyfriend would have afforded her an easy excuse to turn him down.
Still, he wondered how many lovers she’d had since their breakup. He’d hardly been celibate himself. They’re were plenty of beautiful women in South Beach who were only too happy to hook up with the wealthy and good-looking owner of one of the trendiest places in town.
But none of those relationships had gone as deep as the one with Megan. When his mind had slipped its leash and he’d compared those women to her, they’d come up short.
He thought back to Megan’s accusation. No one leaves a Garrison.
Yeah, it had irked him to be dumped. Particularly since, as far as he was concerned, their relationship had been just fine. The sex had been great, and she’d challenged and fascinated him out of bed, too.
She was the one woman he’d actually given thought to settling down with.
“You look severe.”
He looked at his open office door and noticed his new sister-in-law, Anna, holding on to the doorjamb.
He pushed away from his desk and lowered his feet.
Anna walked into the room. “What were you thinking? I could practically see the storm clouds.”
“Nothing,” he said, standing. “What brings you to the Garrison Grand?”
He kept his personal life private, including the particulars of his short-lived affair with Megan.
Still, now he knew Anna and Megan were friends, he figured his new sister-in-law could be useful to him. He wasn’t averse to doing some subtle digging.
“Parker and I are having dinner at the Opalesce Room,” Anna responded.
He flashed a smile that more than one woman had characterized as devilish. “Come to invite me along?”
Anna laughed. “Hardly. Parker and I are still honeymooners.”
“Yeah, how can any of us forget?”
The change in his brother had been extraordinary. The guy actually seemed to be in love, which—given the train wreck their own parents’ marriage had been until their father had died—was some feat. It also spoke volumes about the woman before him.
His parents’ marriage had been marred by Bonita Garrison’s drinking. Still, after John Garrison’s sudden death from a heart attack, everyone had been shocked to learn he’d fathered a love child.
“Actually,” Anna went on, “since your brother is going to be late, I thought I’d stop by on the off chance that Megan might be around. I know she’s working on the business center renovation.”
“She came by yesterday.” He didn’t add she’d hightailed it out of there after his thwarted pass.
Anna looked momentarily disappointed, then shrugged. “Oh, well. I suppose I’ll catch up with her soon.” After a moment, she added impetuously, “I’m glad you hired her.”
“Yeah,” he said, coming around his desk, “I didn’t know until you mentioned it that you were close friends with one of Miami’s best up-and-coming designers.”
“In fact,” Anna admitted, “I have Megan to thank for my start at Garrison, Inc. four years ago. She’d gotten to know people in the HR department while she worked on renovations at Garrison headquarters.”
“So she said. What are friends for?” he remarked flippantly as he made his way to a side cabinet that held a small refrigerator and beverages.
Recently he’d suspected Anna of corporate espionage, but he’d been proved wrong. Someone, though, was leaking secrets to the damn Jefferies brothers. Last month, editorial coverage and a photo spread in Luxury Traveler that he’d been working hard to negotiate for the Garrison Grand had somehow fallen through, and the magazine had instead—by strange coincidence—decided to profile Jordan Jefferies’s soon-to-be-opened Hotel Victoria.
Fortunately, Parker had asked the family’s private investigator, Ace Martin, to ferret out the traitor. It didn’t help matters, though, that one of his younger twin sisters had just decided to get herself engaged to Emilio Jefferies.
“Drink?” he offered.
“No, thanks. Parker should be here any minute.”
Stephen poured himself some bottled water. After watching his mother drink herself silly, he was careful with the heavy stuff.
“Anyway, I’m glad you hired Megan after I mentioned her for the project here at the hotel,” Anna continued. “I’m glad I was able to return the favor she did for me.”
“I’m sure she can’t thank you enough,” he responded tongue-in-cheek, thinking of Megan’s reaction when he’d shown up in her office.
“I also convinced her to take over the cute little house I was leasing in Coral Gables.”
He turned back toward Anna, and took a sip of his drink. “You don’t say?”
Parker appeared in the doorway behind his wife, and Anna turned.
“Great, you’re not as late as I thought you’d be,” Anna said.
Parker gave his wife a quick kiss.
“Leave it for dessert,” Stephen said to no one in particular.
Parker flashed him a grin, and Anna looked embarrassed.
Stephen raised his glass in salute. “Enjoy your meal.”
Thanks to Anna, he had more important matters to attend to, starting with calling over to HR at Garrison headquarters and finding out his sister-in-law’s old address.