Читать книгу Deception - Donna Hill, Donna Hill - Страница 8

The following morning was filled with chaos. There were press releases to go out, writers to interview and an assortment of trivial things that taxed the brain.

Yet even in the midst of the confusion and harried schedule, Terri could not shake Clinton Steele from her thoughts.

How could a man whose unsavory reputation preceded him evoke in her such warm feelings of desire? Terri had found herself lying awake the previous night reliving his touch, the depth of his voice, the scent of him that had clung to her hours after she’d left the reception.

She just found it difficult to believe that a man who could be so warm, so charming, so sensual would have done the unethical things that had been associated with him. Could she have been wrong?

The ringing of the phone intruded on her thoughts. She snatched up the receiver from its cradle.

“Terri Powers,” she said, her mind snapping back to business.

“I thought I’d wait at least twenty-four hours before I called.”

She swore that her heart stopped beating. A rush of heat flooded her body.

“Who is this?” Her fingers gripped the receiver—knowing.

His tone was lightly teasing. “I guess I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous to think that you’d remember me.” He paused a heartbeat of a second. “It’s Mr. Ego.”

She leaned back in her seat, took a silent deep breath and smiled. “Mr. Steele. What can I do for you?”

“Ah, so you do remember.”

Terri laughed outright. “You’re not an easy man to forget.”

“Then I guess that means we’re still on for dinner.”

His voice gently caressed her, and she trembled as if she’d been stroked by fire and ice.

“Yes. Of course. Did you have anyplace special in mind?”

“Why don’t I surprise you?”

“All right. Just as long as it’s not a late night. I have a very heavy schedule on Saturday.”

“What might that be? If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Well, if you must know—” she pretended to sound annoyed but she was proud of her work, and it came through in her voice “—I teach African dance to a group of kids in my building on Saturday morning.”

Clint was impressed. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? Are your students any good?”

Laughter bubbled in her voice. “Let’s just say they have potential.”

“In that case, I promise to get you home early.”

“Then I’ll see you at seven.”

Terri gently hung up the phone and tried to suppress the exhilaration that had taken control of her body. Then reality struggled for the upper hand. What in the world was she doing? She’d been divorced for only a year, although her marriage had been over before then—and now she was considering another man. A man who she had serious concerns with regarding his principles. Was it too soon? Well, maybe tonight she could put her unsettling feelings to rest.

The cheerful greeting from her friend and employee wrestled her away from her musings.

“Girl, it’s good to have you back,” Stacy declared as she hurried over and gave Terri a warm hug. “You have definitely been missed,” she added in her North Carolinian drawl.

“Thanks.” Terri chuckled, returning the embrace. “I feel as though I’ve been away forever instead of three months.”

“It felt like forever.” Stacy groaned as she took a seat on the sofa and slid her shoulder-length blond hair behind her ear with the tip of her finger. “With mad Mark Andrews in charge, I thought I’d go stark ravin’ outta my mind.”

Terri smiled knowingly. “He can be a bit much at times, but he’s one of the best advertising men in the business. Unfortunately we don’t always see eye to eye.” A slight frown creased her otherwise smooth mahogany brow.

“I can tell by that look that you’re not too pleased with that deal he’s been working on with Hightower Enterprises,” Stacy said. “I just got wind of it myself when I got back from vacation. I knew you’d want to know, and I was pretty sure that Mark hadn’t breathed a word to you about it.” Her green eyes, fringed with long black lashes, widened in question. “Am I right?”

Terri slowly crossed the airy office and took a seat behind her desk, twirling one of her ebony locks between her slender fingers.

“That’s an understatement. Mark knew perfectly well how I felt about Hightower Enterprises and its head honcho, Clinton Steele, in particular.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“We met yesterday, and I initially told Steele to find another agency. However, I’m considering taking another look at the proposal. But there’s some investigating I want to do on my own about Mr. Steele before I make my final decision.” She paused a moment. “We’re having dinner tonight.”

Stacy looked at her quizzically. “Really? That’s not usually your style.”

Her eyes held a faraway look as she spoke. “Mr. Steele is a very unusual man.”

“Do you want me to tag along?”

“No. I’m sure I can handle it. I suppose I could use the stimulation of a good debate to get my thoughts back in focus.”

Stacy heard the emptiness that filled the usually rich voice that she had come to know so well. She spoke softly. “Terri…I know that the divorce and then losing the baby right on top of it has been hell. But, well, if you want to talk, you know I’m always here.”

Terri forced a weak smile. “I know. But it will be a while before I can talk about it.” She lowered her thick lashes. “I really just want to put it out of my mind, Stacy. At least I won’t have to run into my ex anytime soon,” she added cynically.

“I heard through the grapevine that Alan is in L.A.”

Terri nodded, the acute pain of betrayal seizing her. “I can only hope that he finds what he thinks I couldn’t give him.”

Her turbulent four-year marriage to Alan Martin ran through her brain in a kaleidoscope of images. Everyone said that they made such a beautiful-looking couple, but that opposites must certainly attract. Terri, with her exotic natural beauty, had a sense of purpose rooted in the age-old philosophy of family and work for the common good. While Alan, with his playboy good looks, lived for the fast life, the quick money and personal gratification.

It was a marriage almost doomed to fail, but Terri had loved Alan unselfishly almost to the point of losing a part of herself in the process. But after the first blush of passion began to fizzle, Terri saw how unalike they truly were.

Involuntarily her hand stroked across her empty stomach—a place that not long ago had been filled with budding life. Terri blamed herself for the breakup with Alan, feeling that she could not be the kind of woman that he wanted. She’d never allow herself to be that vulnerable to anyone again.

“Terri,” Stacy called softly.

Terri shook her head, dispelling the visions, and focused on Stacy.

“Are you all right?”

“Sure,” Terri answered absently. “I’m fine.” She took a shaky breath and put on her best smile. “Now, if I’m ever going to get back in gear, I’d better get busy with the contracts for McPhearson. We’re scheduled to meet in a few days.”

“I have the promotional campaign almost all mapped out. I’d like you to take a look at it before I put on the final touches,” Stacy said.

“You’ve done a great job on it so far. I can’t see how they won’t love it. If you’re not busy this evening, maybe you can drop it off at my apartment. I’ll go over it during the weekend.”

“I’ll try. If not, it’ll be ready for you on Monday. But do you think you’ll be up to it after a night on the town with Mr. Steele?” she teased.

Terri shook her head in amusement. “Very funny.” She pushed herself up from her seat and walked Stacy to the door.

“Thanks for caring, Stacy.” She gave her a warm look. “It means a lot.”

Stacy patted Terri’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Anytime.”

Terri flashed a fleeting smile as Stacy left the office.

“Mark,” Terri called.

He stopped and waited for her near the elevator.

“I’m going out to lunch. I was expecting a call from McPhearson’s secretary. She hasn’t called yet. If she calls while I’m out, I’ve told Andrea to pass the call to you.”

She slipped into her lightweight, copper-colored trench coat.

“Do you want me to set up the meeting time?”

“Yes. Just check my calendar. I think any day next week will be fine.”

“No problem. I’ll take care of it. Oh, by the way, these need your signature.” He angled his head to the pile of folders under his arm. “I’ll leave them in your office.”

“Have you reviewed them?”

“With a fine-tooth comb.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I really don’t have the time to go through all of them. I’m swamped.”

“I figured as much.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mark.” She started to walk away.

Mark gave a derisive laugh that stopped her. “You’d do just fine. You have so far, haven’t you?” he challenged, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

Terri frowned. The cynicism of the remark grated on her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“All it means is what I said. You’d…do…just…fine.” His jaw clenched.

“Is everything all right, Mark? You seem…”

“Listen.” He sighed. “I apologize.” He fingered the collar of his shirt and looked away. “I’m just a little tired—the pressure. That’s all.”

Terri noticed his nervous gesture. “Pressure never seemed to bother you before.”

“Well there’s a first time for everything,” he snapped, his expression growing hard. “Have you had a chance to go over the Hightower proposal again?” he asked, quickly shifting the direction of the conversation.

“I’ll get to them sometime next week,” Terri answered warily.

“Then I’ll check back by the middle of next week.” He turned to walk away. “Mark.”

He turned to face her, his eyes widening in question.

“We need to make some time to talk.”

“Really? About what?”

“About us.”

“Us?” He tossed his head back and laughed. “You flatter me. I didn’t know there was an us.”

Terri cocked her head to the side and placed her hand on her rounded hip. “You know perfectly well what I mean. You’ve been on edge ever since I’ve been back.”

“I think you’re overexaggerating, Terri.” He laughed mirthlessly. “I have work to do, and you have to do lunch.” He turned and strode down the corridor, leaving her completely bewildered by his behavior.

Mark returned to his office, his agitation barely held in check. He reached for the phone, tapping his fingers impatiently on the desktop as he waited. Finally the line was answered.

“Melissa Taylor,” said the low, controlled voice.

“Hi. This is Mark. I promised to call.”

“How are you, Mark?”

“Fine. But I’d be even better if you’d have dinner with me.”

Exiting the building, Terri turned left onto Lexington Avenue, ignoring the rush of lunch-goers as she strolled aimlessly down the busy street. Thoughts of her conversation with Mark unbalanced her usually light nature.

Something wasn’t right. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that Mark was jealous. Immediately she discarded the notion. She and Mark had worked side by side for nearly a year. She trusted him. She just couldn’t imagine—

“You look lost.”

She stopped short, a breath away from running into hard, muscular chest. Her heart thumped when she looked up into those eyes and down to the smile that spilled sunshine across her face.

“Clint…I mean…”

“You got it right the first time.” His eyes roamed slowly over her. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Her eyes briefly focused on her beige suede shoes, and her only wish at that moment was that the tiny crack in the sidewalk would open and swallow her.

“I was on my way to grab a bite and decided to take a stroll,” he said. “Are you out to lunch or just doing the window-shopping thing?”

Her eyes flashed at the last comment until she saw the laughter in his eyes. She couldn’t stop the smile that matched his.

“That’s better,” he said, his voice enveloping her like a cocoon. “I’m not into the shopping part, but could I interest you in something from—” he quickly scanned the busy avenue “—Original Ray’s?”

Her eyes followed his to the famous pizzeria across the street and her stomach gave a hungry twist at the mention of her favorite treat.

“Now don’t tell me you don’t eat pizza. That’s almost un-African-American.”

This time she laughed outright, and he memorized the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed and the high sculpted cheekbones that gave credence to her Caribbean heritage.

Hesitating a moment, she sucked in her bottom lip, looking at him then across at the pizzeria.

“Okay.” She held up a slender manicured finger tipped with soft orange. “But just one slice. I have to get back to the office.”

“And,” he said intimately, “I wouldn’t want you to ruin your appetite for dinner.” Then, like a conjurer, he took her proffered hand and it magically disappeared in his. Before she had the presence of mind to react, he was walking her across the street. As much as she hated to admit it, her hand felt fantastic in his.

“I guess you’ve heard all of the ugly rumors about me?” he asked, tearing off a piece of the steamy pizza and looking at her questioningly.

Terri took a deep breath. “Maybe. The question is, are they true?”

He smiled without humor. “That all depends. If you’ve heard that I’m a tough businessman, then it’s true. If you’ve heard that I make it my business to take what I want in life, then that’s also true.” He shot her a penetrating look that made her avert her gaze.

“Beyond that—” he shrugged his broad shoulders “—I’m just your regular guy.” He took a napkin and wiped his full lips, waiting for her response.

“You make it sound so matter-of-fact.”

“I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Terri noticed the momentary flash of pain that hovered behind those dark eyes. Then it was gone. Briefly she wondered who or what had pierced the impenetrable armor.

“You’re a very complex man, Clint.”

He laughed a deep soul-stirring rumble. “I’ve been called worse. Coming from you, however, I take it as a compliment.”

She took a nibble at her pizza and returned it to the paper plate.

“So have you changed your mind about me? My offer still stands.” Hope filled his dark eyes.

Instead of a direct answer, she toyed with him. “I very rarely change my mind once it’s made up. But I’m always open for discussion. If I have reason to listen.”

His voice lowered to a deep whisper, his response rattling her feigned poise. “Then we have a lot more than business to talk about.”

For several breathtaking seconds, their eyes held. “I’ve got to be getting back to the office,” she said, smoothly disguising her shredded composure. “I’ll see you later.”

Without another word, he rose from his seat, rounded the table and helped her on with her coat. The nearness of him set her heart racing and she knew she had to get away—fast.

“Thank you.” She looked up at him one last time. “I’ve got to go,” she breathed.

With that she made a hasty exit, darting in and out of the flow of traffic, the sensation of Clint nipping at her heels as eagerly as the fall breeze.

Terri massaged her temples. The figures just didn’t seem to make sense. She shook her head. Maybe she was just tired. It was past six-thirty and she had been going over the books and comparing dates for hours. Clint would be downstairs waiting. Her pulse quickened at the thought.

Closing the huge ledger, she reached into her desk drawer for her purse just as Andrea, her secretary, tapped on the door and entered.

“Present for the boss,” Andrea said, her face hidden behind long-stemmed flowers.

Terri eyed her secretary with skepticism. Andrea’s arm was laden with what looked to be more than two dozen Casablanca lilies. Quickly she got up from her desk to help with the burden.

“Where on earth did these come from?” Terri asked.

“They just arrived.”

Terri gently searched through the huge bouquet.

“There’s no card, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

Terri frowned. “Are you sure? How did they get here?” She placed the flowers on the desk and selected a vase from the credenza large enough to accommodate them.

“A messenger just brought them up. All I did was sign for them. They were addressed to you.”

Terri was puzzled. “I don’t understand. These are my favorite flowers,” she said in a wispy voice. She pressed her face against the bouquet and inhaled the heady aroma. “But who knows that?”

“Obviously someone does.” Andrea smiled. “I’ll put these in water and bring them right back.” She picked up the lilies and the vase and left the office.

“Thanks,” Terri answered absently.

For several moments she paced the room, trying to figure out who could have sent the flowers. The only people who knew of her passion for lilies were her adoptive parents, and she was sure that they hadn’t sent them. They were hundreds of miles away and weren’t the type of people who sent gifts just to be thoughtful. If it wasn’t an act that would get them a blurb in the society column, they didn’t bother. She’d probably mentioned it to several people, but to no one who would have gone to this extravagance. Clint?

She shook her head and smiled. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” she whispered, remembering her nana’s favorite line. Then she chuckled to herself, wondering for the zillionth time what in the world was a gift horse anyway?

Moments later, Andrea returned with the lilies safely deposited in the crystal vase.

“Where should I put these, Ms. Powers?”

“On the small table by the window. That should give them just enough light.”

“I’m all finished out front. If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to go home.”

“Of course, Andrea. I didn’t mean to keep you here so late. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Good night, Ms. Powers.”

“Good night.”

Left alone in the room Terri took one last look at her beautiful bouquet. It had been a long time since someone had sent her flowers. And she was going to enjoy every minute of it. She closed the door gently behind her.

Terri exited the building and was greeted by a cold burst of wind. October was a mysterious month. There was no telling what Mother Nature would send. The temperature had already dropped considerably since the afternoon, and she was thankful that she had decided to wear her trench coat. Her only wish was that she’d put in the lining.

Pulling the trench tightly around her trim body, she took a quick look up at the cloud-filled sky and wondered how far off was the first snowfall.

She checked her watch, noting that it was seven on the dot, and approached the curb to wait for Clint. Just as she neared the curb, a black Mercedes-Benz pulled up in front of her. Annoyed that the car had stopped and blocked her view of traffic, she started to walk to the corner just as the driver got out.

Leaning over the hood of the car, a look of pure mischief on his face, Clint held out one Casablanca lily between his fingers. “Can I take a few dozen lilies off your hands in exchange for dinner?”