Falling For The Enemy. Shawna DelacorteЧитать онлайн книгу.
He slung the towel around his neck, grabbing the ends where they hung across his chest. He creased his forehead in concentration for a moment as he stared at her, or more accurately, he seemed to be staring through her to some unknown spot.
“Tell me, Bradford, do you know how to snow ski?”
“Dictation? Snow ski? Which question do you want answered first?” She tried to put some sense to the way his mind jumped from one thing to another, but it was quickly becoming a formidable task.
“Both of them.” He said it as a simple statement of fact, as if he thought it should have been obvious.
She took a calming breath in an effort to combat her rising frustration with what appeared to her to be the disjointed way he jumped from one thing to another without warning. “All the letters and memos have been transcribed and are in the computer. I haven’t done the reports or speech yet. Yes, I know how to snow ski.”
He offered her a dazzling smile, as if the previous few minutes of tension and the earlier cross words had never happened. “Good. I have business in Aspen at the end of next week. There’s still some good spring skiing conditions.”
He absently tugged on the ends of the towel, first one end then the other, causing it to slide back and forth across his nape as he stared at the floor deep in concentration. Suddenly he yanked off the towel and tossed it into a basket in the corner. “Transcribe everything except the speech. Hold off on that until tomorrow. I want to give it some more thought. I’m going to take a shower, then we’ll get something to eat.”
As abruptly as it had all started, their conversation was finished. He went to the bathroom across the hall and closed the door. A few moments later she heard the shower running. Paige could not stop the slight smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. In spite of his abrupt manner, she had to admit that he was the most fascinating and baffling man she had ever come across. She closed her eyes and pictured his tanned body under the spray of the shower. A jolt of desire swept through her.
What was even more amazing was that he did not seem to have any pretensions about who he was, right down to not seeming to realize just how attractive he was. He sported the trappings of a very busy man and Eileen had warned her about him being a workaholic, but he did not exhibit any ego problems.
What had she gotten herself into? A formal reception the next evening at the French embassy in London and then skiing in Aspen the following week and all as part of her job. Most people would kill to have a job like that, but for her it was only a temporary situation. A means to an end. A little twinge jabbed at her consciousness. She could not clearly identify it. Perhaps it was regret, maybe even guilt. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She did not want any errant emotions dissuading her from the course she had set.
She finished the reports, then listened to the first part of the speech. She turned off the cassette player and leaned back in her chair. The speech, like the letters and memos, was dictated straight through without pauses. It was an excellent speech, articulate and entertaining while still making the necessary points. She couldn’t imagine what there was that he would want to change.
“I’ve thought about it and won’t be making any changes to the speech. You can transcribe it after we get something to eat. Then we’ll call it a day.”
The sound of his voice startled her, causing her to whirl in her swivel chair. He stood framed in the office doorway wearing only a towel wrapped around his hips. Droplets of water still clung to his tanned skin. His hair had been quickly towel dried and hung in tousled disarray. His turquoise eyes sparkled with life and vitality.
He continued to speak as if he had not noticed her reaction to his sudden appearance. “I imagine you’ll be wanting to get a good night’s sleep to catch up on the jet lag. Tomorrow is going to be a very busy day, then there’s the reception in the evening.”
The heat rose on the back of her neck as her heart beat just a little faster and her breathing increased. He looked absolutely gorgeous in a wildly abandoned and totally uninhibited way. Paige tried to cover the flush of excitement that darted through her body. She swallowed the lump that had lodged in her throat and quickly averted her eyes.
Her words were terse as she turned away from him and went through the motions of shutting down the computer. She knew the quaver in her voice would probably betray her even though she tried to sound in control. “I would appreciate it if you would present yourself properly dressed. Even though this is your residence, it’s still a place of business.”
In spite of her words she truly believed he was unaware of his state of dress…or more accurately, his state of undress. What she had observed of him so far told her that when Bryce had something on his mind, he acted on it immediately while the thought was still fresh. Even though he had a total grasp on what was happening around him, he seemed to pay no more attention to himself than he did to the wallpaper in the hallway or the air he breathed.
Bryce glanced at the clock on the desk. “We’ll leave here in half an hour. There’s a little Italian place only a couple of blocks away. We can walk.” He turned and went to his bedroom as if her comments about his lack of clothes had not penetrated his consciousness.
Paige leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes, expelled a quick breath and composed her trembling insides. She began to wonder if accepting this job had been a bad idea, not the stroke of luck she had originally thought it to be.
A quick shot of panic raced through her. She needed to escape the mesmerizing aura of Bryce Lexington and the excitement that darted around inside her whenever she looked at him. She shook her head in resignation. As soon as they got back to Los Angeles she would resign from the job. There had to be some other way of digging out the truth about how he ruined her father without being in such proximity to this very disconcerting man.
And whatever it was she had to find it.
She took a steadying breath. She desperately needed to get control of herself. She knew she could not get on with her life until she was able to put to rest the painful chapter concerning her father’s suicide. She had to find closure for that traumatic episode and that meant eventually confronting Bryce Lexington. She took another calming breath, turned her attention to putting things away in the office, then went to her room.
It had been an exceptionally long day. Pangs of hunger battled with her yawns for control of her body. Dinner followed by some much-needed sleep were the only two items on her agenda for that night. Perhaps things would be a little clearer in the morning.
And maybe Bryce Lexington would not turn her reality inside out every time he looked at her. A little sigh of despair presented itself. Sure…and maybe some unknown benefactor would drop a million dollars in her lap, too.
She freshened her makeup and changed clothes, selecting a pair of black slacks with a red and white silk blouse and red shoes. The slacks had a matching jacket. An uneasy nervousness churned in the pit of her stomach. Even though she didn’t feel any concern for her physical safety, she didn’t trust Bryce Lexington any more than she trusted any other man. Trust had to be earned, not freely given.
While waiting for him, Paige took the opportunity to look around the flat a little more thoroughly. She wandered into the kitchen, opening the cupboard and looking into the refrigerator. There was some food, staples only, but not anything that would allow them to have dinner there.
“There’ll be some food here tomorrow morning.”
Again, the sound of that smooth masculine voice sent little tingles up her spine at the same time that it startled her to attention. Why did he persist in sneaking up behind her like that? No, that was an unfair statement. Her mind had been absorbed in her own thoughts and she simply hadn’t heard him enter the kitchen.
He looked devastatingly gorgeous. He wore a turquoise-blue shirt open at the neck almost the exact color of his eyes and charcoal-gray slacks. Her heartbeat increased ever so slightly. She fumbled for some words, anything that would relieve the tension rapidly building inside her. “Who takes care of this place when you’re not here, or do other people also use it?”
“Well,