Читать книгу A Lone Star Love Affair / Falling for the Princess: A Lone Star Love Affair / Falling for the Princess - Sara Orwig - Страница 9

Isabelle gripped the steering wheel tightly. Her insides knotted. Tony Ryder was a page out of her past. He obviously had not remembered her, and nothing about her had jogged his memory. A night she wished she could forget. The most passionate night of her life, and one that she had never been able to understand.

A singular time in which she had acted in a totally uncustomary fashion. Had it been Tony who had triggered her responses? The spring night? The looming end of the semester? She could never account for her actions to herself.

One thing remained the same—the white-hot, sizzling attraction experienced by both of them. Even though she had tried to keep from responding in even the slightest manner to his magnetism tonight, she’d failed. He had felt the same witchery, revealing his responses in small ways.

His riveting looks and commanding presence made him larger-than-life to her. It was impossible to see him in any ordinary manner. When they were together, she could feel the rising heat they generated. The man probably went through life getting everything he wanted. Between his money, his looks, his background, his sharp mind—how could he fail in any undertaking?

She wanted him out of her life and she definitely wanted away from him. She hoped she’d have a new job and be gone from Morris without Tony having a clue who she was. No way did she want to work for Tony Ryder. Tony was clearly not into commitment and she was. She had read about him on business pages. He was a workaholic and obviously avoided long-term relationships. As she approached each birthday now, her yearning for a family and a love she could trust increased. She wanted a lifelong relationship while Tony did not have even long-term relationships.

She had told Tony she would attend the company party, but now she had second thoughts.

Finally at home, Isabelle turned on Beethoven, showered and changed into pajamas, and poured a tall glass of cold milk. She couldn’t shake thoughts of Tony and their encounter tonight. Tony Ryder was even more handsome and appealing than he had been the night she had met him when she had been in college.

How could he forget someone he had slept with? It had been such a passionate night. She grew warmer just thinking about it before making an effort to put those memories firmly out of mind.

Of all people to buy out Morris Enterprises.

Mr. Morris had planned to work four more years and then sell the company when Tony had come along with a dream offer. How she wished Tony had found other interests. Four more years with Morris would have been great. Now her future was uncertain. She had to start fresh with a new company. She would lose clients and accounts she knew well.

When she had started at Morris, she had thought the company would never change hands. The original shipping business had started with the trucking company in the 1920s. In 1946, Morris opened the first hotel. Within two years it had become a Texas chain, and in a few more years, a national chain. As the company had continued to grow, the word with employees was that the Morrises would never sell. Until the current Morris, whose only son was immersed in the Beltway political scene. After Morris’s daughter married a jet-setting Frenchman, she no longer had interest in the family business.

Change happened, especially nowadays when companies changed hands with the right offer. Probably due to her awards, the recognition she had received for achievements in her field, plus the large number of companies she had dealt with because of her job with Morris, she had three excellent job offers to consider.

Thursday night she would put in an appearance, speak to Mr. Morris, as well as those she was close to at Morris, and then leave. She didn’t care to schmooze with Tony.

She sat down at the kitchen table with her milk and the file of papers from businesses that had made her offers. She had them in order of preference with first choice Tralear Hotels, Incorporated, the hotel chain where Vernon Irwin, the former president of Morris, was going. Vernon wanted her, as well as five other Morris employees, to move with him and he had made her a highly tempting offer.

She had to get away from Morris before Tony realized who she was.

When she went to bed, she had dreams about Tony Ryder. One of her first thoughts on waking in the faintly gray dawn—would Tony remember who she was? Even more unsettling—how would she say no to him when she remembered what it was like to be with him?

On Thursday, Tony entered the luxurious reception room on the top floor of the Morris building. A piano player provided background music and a buffet of hors d’oeuvres were on tables scattered along three walls. A crowd had already gathered. As his eyes swept the room, disappointment ruled, because he did not see Isabelle.

He spotted the table with Seymour Morris and Vernon Irwin, who had already taken another job as president of Tralear Hotels, Incorporated, a fast-growing hotel chain. Three vice presidents who were still on the Morris payroll were also at the table. Casually looking for Isabelle, Tony crossed the room to greet the former CEO and each executive.

“Join us, Tony. You can humor an old man and sit for a spell.”

“I’d be glad to,” Tony said, smiling at the white-headed CEO. “I’ve looked forward to getting to meet more Morris people.”

“Excellent. We’ll introduce you and your executive staff in an informal manner shortly. I’ll officially turn everything over to you and go. Vernon will introduce the Morris executives.”

“No need for you to rush away. I look forward to meeting them to put faces with names.” Tony wanted to ask about one director in particular, but he refrained. Instead, as he conversed with those around him, he idly watched the crowd.

“Why don’t we do the introductions and let me officially move on. I can turn it over to you and get these old bones home to bed.”

“Yes, sir,” Tony replied, biting back a smile at the references to old and tired because he had already discovered that Seymour Morris worked out daily and had for years. Seymour was into polo, swimming, racquetball and golf.

As he moved to the microphone with Seymour, a blonde caught his attention.

In a plain black knee-length dress, Isabelle stood out. How had he missed her? Or had she just arrived? His insides clenched and flames heated him. Looking gorgeous, she stood talking to a cluster of Morris people. The short dress revealed her long, shapely legs and he could take a slow look now when she was unaware of his gaze on her. Her hair was looped and piled on her head, but this time a few strands escaped to frame her face.

She laughed at something someone said and his heart jumped. Instantly a vivid memory of Jessie Smith struck him.

His gaze narrowed while he focused intently on Isabelle, looking slowly, trying to compare her to a memory.

“Mr. Morris. I see your graphic arts department director, Isabelle Smith. Is that her full name?”

“As far as I know,” Seymour answered, turning to the man at his side with a questioning look.

Tony’s gaze remained riveted on Isabelle. He wanted to excuse himself and go talk to her, but that was impossible.

“It’s Jessica Isabelle Smith,” the vice president answered.

“Jessica Smith,” Tony whispered, repeating the name. Jessie Smith. It was her. Jessie Smith was back in his life.

He couldn’t keep from smiling. His new acquisition had a surprising, incredible perk. Now he could think of two reasons for her coolness when they had met Tuesday night. She could resent that he had not contacted her after their night together. Or she didn’t want to recall that night or rekindle the friendship. He watched her, remembering the college girl he had met, taunted by a visual picture of a laughing blonde, stunning in tight, faded jeans that molded to her slim legs. The same riveting blue eyes and flawless skin. A mouth to elicit erotic fantasies. And a cascade of long, almost waist length, silky, pale blond hair that, instead of being tightly pinned and conservative, tumbled freely over her shoulders. A party girl. Fun-loving, flirty with him, burning him to cinders in bed.

Why had she switched to her middle name, Isabelle? Nearly everything about her had changed, with the exception of her gorgeous looks, her captivating blue eyes, silky blond hair and that blazing attraction. Tony recalled her in his arms that night, warm, naked, eager. She had been all the things then that she had not been when he encountered her Tuesday night—the night they had met, there had never been a barrier around her.

She must have remembered him from the start. Was she angry he hadn’t pursued her after that night of passion?

Barely aware of his surroundings or the looming task, Tony’s attention kept returning to her while he attempted to chat politely with Seymour.

Finally, one of Seymour’s vice presidents quieted the room, introduced Seymour Morris and turned the microphone over to him.

Smiling his way through the opening, Tony heard none of it. His gaze kept resting on Isabelle, who was now facing the speaker, keeping her gaze firmly on the vice president or on Seymour. During the time Tony had watched her, not once had she looked at him.

He heard Seymour announce his name, introducing him as the new CEO and head of Ryder Enterprises, and he smiled during the applause. As he stepped to the microphone, shook Seymour’s hand and looked around the audience, his gaze rested on Isabelle. This time he made eye contact.

The instant they looked into each other’s eyes, the air electrified. Erotic images from the past taunted him as he pulled his attention back to the moment.

“I want to thank all of you for the warm welcome I’ve received. Seymour Morris and the Morris family have built a premier company with the help of outstanding employees. This is a blue-ribbon company with a blue-ribbon record.” He waited a few seconds while there was polite applause.

“In the coming weeks I’ll be talking to each of you more in depth. I think I already have appointments with most of you. If you need to see me sooner than your appointment, just let my secretary know. I’m looking forward to a banner year for Morris. I’ll turn this over to my executive president, Jason Hoyt, who has a few words to say and some introductions.”

He stepped aside and once again barely heard introductions until they went back to the Morris people and one by one, the vice presidents and then the directors were introduced.

They were scattered throughout the room and each person waved while they received brief applause. As each name was called, he looked carefully at the person, recalling the information he had received regarding them. Finally, he heard, “Isabelle Smith, director of the graphic arts department.”

Smiling, she stepped forward to wave, her gaze never meeting his. It didn’t matter. His heart jumped while he studied her intently again, remembering Jessie, comparing, feeling faint doubts that were fading each time he looked at her. Off and on he had thought about her, wondering where she was and what she was doing. At the time he had been working almost every waking minute and he hadn’t wanted to get involved with a woman because business would have suffered. She was back in his life. Now he could better understand her anger over his not contacting her after their night of partying and making love. Also, he could get through that barrier she had thrown up. As they made the next announcement, she glanced at him.

Certain she was Jessie Smith, he was jubilant.

The minute they finished the introductions and speeches, Tony turned to Seymour to offer his hand. “Thank you, sir. I have high hopes for Morris.”

“I think you’ll do well. This has been a great company. I have to tell you, there are moments this retirement gets to me, but I have no Morris heirs to pass this on to, so this is the end of the line. Life is filled with changes. I hope you pass this company through as many generations of Ryders as we have had Morrises.”

“Thank you. You’ve built a great company and I’m looking forward to my involvement in it.”

Seymour grinned. “Your father wanted this company in the worst way. I’ve fought him off for years. Lucky for you that you happened along when I wanted to retire and it didn’t hurt that you had a better offer than your dad,” Seymour added, chuckling. “Even though he didn’t make the sale, I know he’s probably still celebrating since you have a family business the same as I do. He may be out of it, but it was his and it’s still Ryder.”

“That he is. Best wishes on your retirement,” Tony said, anxious to get through the formalities.

When he had the chance, he turned to look for Isabelle. Once again, he couldn’t spot her. While his pulse drummed, he began to move around the room and then he saw her near the door, talking to three people. With her coat in hand, he suspected that she had been on her way out when someone had stopped her.

He tried to avoid rushing, but he crossed the room, putting off conversations with people who approached him.

And then she turned and walked out the door.

He lengthened his stride to catch up with her in the hall. “Jessie,” he said.

Isabelle stopped, her heart lurching. He remembers was the first thought that went through her mind. Her palms became damp as she turned to watch him approach. Looking like an ad for expensive men’s clothing in his charcoal suit, Tony had a commanding presence that was different from the party guy she had met in college. The thick mat of unruly curls were the only hint of a less serious side to him, something beyond the driven, ambitious mogul whose entire focus seemed to be on acquiring an even larger fortune.

As he halted only inches in front of her, there was a warmth in his gaze that hadn’t been present on Tuesday night. He gripped her arm lightly, his fingers barely holding her, yet it was a heated touch. “Let’s go where we can talk and not be interrupted.”

“I’m not sure we need to talk,” she said. “You’re my new employer. I’ll see you sometimes at the office,” she said, starting to put on her coat. He took it and held it out for her. As she slipped her arms into the sleeves, his hands brushed her shoulders. The faint touch should have been impersonal but was scalding.

“Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easily. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She looked up at him as he walked beside her. “I didn’t think you remembered,” she said, her pulse racing.

“I’ve never forgotten. Tuesday night, I thought about you—the Jessie Smith I knew, but dismissed the idea because of your name, Isabelle, your appearance, which is far different. And your whole manner.”

As they left the building, he held the door. “Let’s go have a drink somewhere and we can talk.”

She shook her head. “We’re not taking up where we left off. Different time, different world. You’re my new employer. End of discussion. I have other job offers, so soon I’ll be leaving Morris.”

“Don’t act in haste,” he said, his dark brown eyes unreadable. His handsome looks held her attention, more so now than when she was younger.

“I won’t do anything rash. I’ve been interviewing, studying my options.”

“Perhaps, but you haven’t heard what we’ll offer,” he said.

“Frankly, I doubt it will top the offers I’ve received. And you’ll have no difficulty replacing me, if you even want to with your ad department all in place. We both know that.”

“Why not hear what we’ll do? What do you have to lose?”

She smiled at him. “Nothing to lose. I’ll listen at the office. There’s no need for us to discuss work tonight.”

“How about dinner tomorrow night?” he asked, and her heartbeat skipped. Acceptance was on the tip of her tongue. But she had had one foolish night with him. She didn’t want another. Her aim was to meet someone with marriage potential—definitely not Tony Ryder’s MO, he was not the settling-down type. She wanted marriage and family. Tony wanted success. Focusing on his workaholic drive, she could say no far more easily.

“Thank you. I have never thought it wise to mix business with my personal life. That’s the path to all kinds of complications.”

“I think you cut off your options too hastily,” he said, smiling at her. “I’m still glad to find you again. I suppose it’s Isabelle now and not Jessie.”

“Definitely. Jessie was a nickname from childhood. My grandmother was named Isabelle and I loved her and always wished Isabelle had been my first name. When I graduated from college, I saw an opportunity to move into a different world with different friends and change to the name I like best. I prefer Isabelle and most of my coworkers don’t even know Jessica, much less Jessie.”

His gaze roamed over her features, his scrutiny making her breathless. “I hope you come to work sometime with your hair down. I remember your long hair,” he said in a husky voice.

And I remember your broad shoulders and rock-hard body, she thought. “I don’t wear my hair down to work,” she answered in what she hoped was a remote voice. “It doesn’t seem as professional.”

“So when you knew I was coming, you began looking for another job?”

“Actually, the companies contacted me. I intended to look other places, and now I’ve had promising offers.”

“You’ve said you’d wait and give us a chance.”

“I will, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be leaving and even more certain you’ll never miss me.” It was tempting for her to add, You didn’t be fore. “I need to go. I told Mr. Morris goodbye. I’ll miss him, but he seems happy with the prospect of retiring.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Tony said, falling into step beside her. “Catch me up. Did you go from college to Morris?”

“No. I worked for an ad agency for two years and then came to work here.”

At her car she stopped and smiled. “Good night,” she said, pulling her coat close around her.

“Night, Isabelle. I’ll see you at the office.”

She slid behind the wheel. He closed the door and stepped back.

As she drove away across the parking lot, she glanced in the rearview mirror. He stood staring at her car.

She had turned down dinner and told him she was quitting. Exactly what she should have done, but there was part of her that wanted to accept his dinner offer and stay in his employ.

This had to be for the best. She didn’t want any more nights of mindless liaisons, a brief casual relationship with her employer that meant nothing to him. She wanted out of this company and away from Tony Ryder with her heart and her self-respect intact. And she didn’t want the office gossiping about her relationship with the new owner. Tony Ryder was not the person to get involved with and she regretted that he had recognized her. She intended to keep reminding herself that he was not the kind of man she wanted to spend her time with.

Even so, there was part of her that wanted to stay at Morris. A part of her that knew she would see more of Tony if he was her boss.

As she studied an ad layout at the office Friday morning, Isabelle received a call from Tony’s secretary, who wanted to set up a meeting. Within minutes Isabelle had an eleven-o’clock appointment Monday with Tony, his president of operations and the president of promotion and information. She was still tempted to turn in a resignation and skip the interview, but she was curious how badly he wanted her to stay. What offer would he make?

She had already decided which company she would prefer to join. She had had the third interview, which had culminated in a job offer that included more money than she was making. She would oversee a larger graphic arts department in an office with a more convenient location. She did not expect Tony to top their proposal, giving her the opportunity to tell him she had a better offer. Going with that thought firmly in mind, she spent the weekend getting ready for her business move, hoping to take off a few days in between employers. Saturday morning she went to a midmorning meeting of Dallas Regional Graphic Artists. She had belonged to the group since she had started her career.

As she expected, a close friend greeted her upon her arrival. Dylan Kinnaly—who was seriously involved with Tony’s sister, Sydney—broke away from a cluster of people and hurried toward her. The tall, slender man had a worried frown that indicated something bad had happened.

“Have you met him yet?” Dylan asked. “You said Tony Ryder takes over now.”

“Hello, to you,” she answered with amusement. “Yes, I’ve met him. He wants me to stay with Morris.”

“Sydney’s parents had a long talk with her about me. I was hoping to talk with you when we get a chance. Can you stay after the meeting?”

“Sure, the room will be empty,” she said, her curiosity rising. Dylan had become a good friend over the years and she had been surprised when she had learned he was seeing Tony’s sister.

She had first met Sydney Ryder at an annual film festival held by one of the local art museums. Later, she had seen her a few times at professional events when Dylan had brought her along. She couldn’t keep from liking Sydney and couldn’t blame her for anything her brother did. But Sydney was a reminder of Tony, and for that reason Isabelle had refused the few invitations from Dylan to go to dinner with them. When she had told Dylan about meeting Tony in college, swearing him to secrecy about telling Sydney, Dylan understood her refusal to get to know Sydney better.

“The meeting’s beginning so we’ll talk later.”

They took seats and listened as a speaker took the podium. The meeting was short, lasting only an hour.

It wasn’t until they were alone that Dylan turned to her. Since his blue eyes were clouded with worry, she braced for bad news. “Sydney called me last Tuesday night. Her parents gave her an ultimatum. If she doesn’t drop me, they will disinherit her, stop paying for medical school for her and cut her out of family holidays.”

“Dylan, I can’t believe that. Why?” Isabelle asked, aghast and wondering about the tensions in Tony’s family. “How can they interfere in your lives that way? Why would they?”

“I’m not society. They want her to marry one of the men she’s known all her life. Also, they think I’m after her money.”

“That’s dreadful,” Isabelle answered. “Sounds like something out of the eighteenth century.”

“I don’t want any of Sydney’s money,” he said, his long fingers turning his pen in his hand. “I don’t want to hurt her, either. We’ve talked it over. As far as I’m concerned, I see only one solution—I ended our relationship. For her sake.”

“That’s even worse. Does she go along with your decision?”

“No. She wants us back together, but they’re threatening too big a disaster for her. I don’t want her going through anything so stressful over me. She’s always loved her family and they’ve been close. She’s very close with her brother.”

“What’s does Tony think of all this?”

“He said he would send her to medical school, not to worry about that one.”

“Good for him,” Isabelle said, relieved and aware of a grudging respect blossoming for Tony. “He can afford to do that. I was afraid he would side with his folks.”

“Not at all. He gave her a generous check. He told her he would never cut her out on holidays—or ever. He urged her to tell me their threats. Tony is damn supportive, but from what Sydney has told me, Tony has had bitter battles with his dad.”

“I’m glad Tony took that stand,” she said, her respect growing stronger. “I think more of him for not siding with them, and for urging her to tell you their threats.”

“They may treat him the same way when he gets engaged if it isn’t someone they approve of.”

“Tony Ryder is a complete workaholic,” Isabelle said. “I can’t imagine him getting married. He won’t have the same problem with his parents. I’m sorry, Dylan. If she truly loves you and you love her, maybe you should give it more thought before you break off with her.”

“I just don’t want to cause her to lose her inheritance—or her parents.”

“She’s in love with you. I understand your feelings, but think about it.”

She gazed into eyes that were darker blue than her own. Dylan was a good graphic artist and they had helped each other in years past on projects. She hated to see him hurt and she thought the Ryders were being ghastly about him.

“What about you and Tony Ryder?” Dylan asked. “Have you seen him yet? Does he remember you?”

“Yes and yes. He remembers me and he wants me to stay with Ryder Enterprises.”

“You’re damn good at what you do. You’ve built that department. Will you?”

She shook her head. “The department will never be the same. I don’t want to stay. There’s no future with Tony.”

“I don’t blame you. If I could do it over—” He paused to think and shook his head. “I’d still want to know Sydney. I love her and you can’t turn that off. Not the last-forever kind of love.”

“Dylan, I’m so sorry. They should be delighted with you.”

He smiled. “Thanks. I naively thought they would at least be friendly to me. They aren’t even that. I’m not supposed to set foot in their house.”

“This goes from bad to worse,” she remarked. “What a family. Maybe you don’t want to marry into it. Do you know Sydney really, really well?”

“I love her with all my heart. Enough to get out of her life and avoid causing her heartache.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t have a solution for you, except to urge you to rethink walking away from the woman you love and who loves you. Think about what’s important. Think about what Sydney wants.”

Dylan smiled briefly at her, and they got up to head out. As they walked toward the door, he said, “No one has a good solution, but thanks for listening. Be careful with Tony if he wants you to go out with him. You could end up in a dilemma with his family. Sydney said they have women picked out for him.”

Isabelle laughed. “Don’t worry. There’s no danger. Tony Ryder is in love with his work. He’s married to his job. I don’t ever want to tie my life to someone who puts work first over family. I saw that happen with one of my friend’s family when I was growing up and it was dreadful.

“True love is a precious thing. Think about it, Dylan, before you do something drastic.”

“I’m thinking, but I always come back to the same solution. I love her and want what’s best for her.”

“I hope she appreciates the kind of person you are. It sounds as if she does. Don’t rush into a breakup, Dylan. That’s my two cents’ worth.”

“That’s why I wanted to talk to you about this.”

“Keep in touch and let me know what’s happening,” she said, going to her car as Dylan headed to his.

“You do the same,” he called, walking backward. “If you change jobs, please let me know.”

“I will,” she called, climbing into her car, moving by rote while she thought about what she had learned from Dylan. She didn’t want to be involved with Tony in any manner.

One more strike against getting to know Tony Ryder any better. His family would be no more happy with her than they were with Dylan. At least Tony had stood by his sister. Isabelle had to admire him for that.

Sunday afternoon, she looked at her wardrobe to select what she would wear to the Monday interview. Certain she would soon leave Morris, she decided to wear something both professional and a little less buttoned up than usual, something more on the appealing side. Her conservative suits were shades of blue, gray, brown and black, innocuous, all business, hopefully authoritative to offset her age and pale blond hair. Although she was five feet eight inches tall, she wore high heels. She rummaged through her choices, pushing aside the suits to withdraw three dresses, which she tried on in succession.

Tony had forgotten her before and he would again, but she wanted him to notice her Monday and remember her after she was gone from his company. She had to stop thinking of it as Morris and recognize that it was now Ryder Enterprises, a name that gave her a bitter feeling because of Tony and their past, as well as having loved the Morris company the way it had been. Mentally, she had mapped out a rosy future with Morris and then Tony Ryder had brought it crashing down. Unfair a little, because Mr. Morris was also responsible by retiring and selling out.

She finally decided on a deep blue dress with a short jacket and a straight skirt that had a slit on one side. The low-cut square neckline revealed curves while the whole dress clung to her figure. She had matching pumps that would complete her ensemble. Eager to resign and move on with her life, she looked forward to the interview.

Monday morning she was ushered into the elegant office that had always belonged to a Morris. The thick carpet muffled any footsteps while the early morning sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, spilling across the balcony and into the room. She imagined a smiling Mr. Morris sitting at his broad mahogany desk. Instead, it was Tony, vibrant, commanding, sexy enough to transform what was usually a purely business atmosphere into an electrified ambience. Smiling, he stood, coming around his desk to greet her while another man remained beside a leather chair. A brunette who had been sitting nearby stood.

“Good morning, Isabelle,” Tony said, taking her hand to shake it briefly. The moment they touched, her already racing pulse gave another spurt. She withdrew her hand swiftly. His brown eyes were friendly. Unruly black locks curled on his forehead, an unwanted reminder of being in his arms and combing them back from his face.

Instantly, she tried to concentrate on the interview ahead, but when she met Tony’s gaze, there was a mocking look, as if he knew exactly what she had been thinking.

He could not possibly know, yet her cheeks grew hot and she turned from him to greet the others.

“This is Mandy Truegood, president of public relations and media promotion,” Tony said as the brunette smiled, extending her hand.

“And this is Porter Haswell, our president of operations.”

The man smiled, shaking her hand. While he was friendly, his gray eyes assessed her. “I’ve heard good things about you, Isabelle. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I never did get to talk to you at the reception, which I had intended to do.”

“Sorry I missed you,” she replied. “I left early,” she added, without a glance at Tony.

“You’ve had a spectacular career with Morris, with many awards. Congratulations,” Porter said.

“Thank you,” she answered. “Morris gave me opportunities. They opened the new hotel chain just shortly before I started, so from the beginning I got to do the ad campaigns. This is a great department with a talented staff. You’ll find each person brings a particular specialty. The teamwork is amazing.”

“You can tell us about your staff. Why don’t we have a seat. We can sit at the conference table,” Tony said.

She moved to the rectangular table. Effortlessly, Tony was there before her, pulling out a chair for her.

“Thanks,” she said brusquely as he sat to her right. She marveled how he could appear both relaxed and in control at the same time, a puzzling combination. On the table was her own large portfolio, plus a file bearing her name.

Amanda and Porter placed notebooks and papers in front of their seats.

Tony gazed at her with a faint smile. “We’ve studied your portfolio and impressive file that lists your accomplishments and awards.”

“I look forward to working with you,” Amanda added. “Morris is a great company and you’ve contributed to its growth.”

“Why don’t you tell us about the campaign that you feel you contributed to the most and how you worked with your staff,” Tony suggested.

As she talked, she was aware of holding the attention of all three, Amanda asking the most questions, Tony’s dark eyes on her while he listened.

The interview went easily. Isabelle tried to inform them of the talent and abilities of her staff. Even though she intended to move on, she hoped they kept her people.

When they concluded, remarks were brief, thanks exchanged and she left Tony’s office, the office she would forever think of as Mr. Morris’s.

Relieved to have the interview behind her, and curious what they would offer, she went to her office to clean out her desk. It would be a simple matter to pack her things after she turned in her resignation.

She already had a resignation letter written and copies made, but she wanted to wait and see what Tony offered. She expected far less than she had now. He had a reputation for buying companies, gutting them and keeping only skeleton crews that he moved down the corporate ladder. Some stayed and moved back up in a short time. Most left.

She had no intention of working with him. Their night of passion was a shadow hanging over her, something she had not been able to forget. She suspected from his dinner invitation that he wanted to renew the intimacy. She wanted to bury the memory, but there was no way she could wipe it out.

Her phone rang and she was caught up in business the remainder of the morning.

It was after three when Tony’s secretary called to ask her to come to Tony’s office. Relieved they were doing something today, Isabelle hurried along the hall to the large corner office Tony occupied. All she had to do was give two weeks’ notice and she would be elsewhere, far from Tony Ryder.