Lauren wrenched free of Nick's arms as Jim straightened from the doorway and strolled into the office. "This makes things rather awkward for Lauren," he continued thoughtfully to Nick. "In the first place, I'm afraid Mary witnessed a bit of this scene, and since she's blindly loyal to you, she's bound to blame Lauren."
Lauren's mortified horror at Mary's having seen them was totally eclipsed by her shock over Jim's next announcement. "In the second place," he lied with a bland grin, "the date you wanted Lauren to break on Saturday happens to be with me. Since I am one of your oldest and closest friends, and since there are seven nights in a week, I don't think it's very sporting of you to try to usurp my night."
Nick's brows drew together in annoyance, but Jim continued imperturbably. "Since we both intend to pursue Lauren, I think we ought to establish some ground rules. Now," he mused, "is she fair game here at the office or not? I'm perfectly willing to abide by—"
Lauren finally recovered her power of speech. "I refuse to listen to another word of this," she exclaimed as she stalked toward Mary's office.
Jim stepped out of her way, but kept his challenging smile aimed directly at Nick. "As I was saying, Nick, I'm perfectly willing—"
"I sincerely hope," Nick interrupted shortly, "that you have a valid reason for this unscheduled visit of yours."
Jim relented with a chuckle. "As a matter of fact, I do. Curtis called while I was out. I think he wants to talk about a deal…"
Lauren was already through the doorway of Mary's office when the name hit her. Curtis. Her palms began to perspire. Curtis was one of the six names Philip Whitworth had asked her to listen for.
Curtis wants to talk about a deal.
She sank into her chair, the blood pounding in her ears as she strained to hear more from Nick's office, but the men's voices had dropped and the furious clatter of Mary's electric typewriter made it impossible.
Curtis could be a first name rather than a last name. Michael Curtis was the name Philip had given her, but Jim had merely mentioned Curtis. Lauren groped for the Global Industries telephone directory in the desk drawer. Two men named Curtis were listed—perhaps it was one of them. She couldn't believe Jim would act as an intermediary for the spy whose treachery was strangling Philip's company. Not Jim.
"If you don't have any work to do—" Mary Callahan's voice was like an icicle "—I'll be happy to give you some of mine."
Lauren flushed and doggedly resumed her work.
Nick was in meetings for the rest of the day, and at five o'clock Lauren breathed a sigh of relief. Back downstairs on Sinco's floor, the sounds of raised voices and closing drawers heralded the end of another workday. Lauren nodded absently at the women who reminded her to join them at the pub. Her eyes were on Jim as he came striding around the corner to her desk.
"Want to talk?" he asked, inclining his head toward his office.
"Well?" he teased when Lauren was seated in the leather chair in front of his desk. "Go ahead—we've certainly passed the point where we need to maintain any sort of formality between us."
Lauren nervously pushed her hair back off her forehead. "What made you stand there and… and listen to everything? What made you say the things you did about us—you and me?"
Jim leaned back in his chair, a wry grin tugging at his lips. "When I came back from lunch and found out you'd been reassigned to Nick, I went up to be certain that you were doing all right. Mary told me that you'd just gone into Nick's office, so I opened the door and looked in to see if you needed rescuing. There you were—smiling angelically at him while you gave him messages from other women and turned down his offer of an 'affair.' "
Resting his head against the back of his chair, Jim closed his eyes and laughed. "Oh Lauren, you were magnificent! I was just about to leave when you pushed him too far and told him you'd call him when your daughter was of age, so that he could, er, initiate her, as I gather he initiated you?"
He opened one eye, saw Lauren's scarlet cheeks and waved a dismissing hand. "Anyway, you seemed to be resisting Nick's physical retaliation well enough. I had just decided to leave when Nick put on the pressure and told you he couldn't concentrate on anything but you. You swallowed the line and started to sink, so I stepped in to give you time to recover."
"Why?" Lauren persisted.
He hesitated for a suspiciously long time. "I suppose because I saw you crying over him, and because I don't want you to get hurt. For one thing, if you do get hurt, you'll resign, and I happen to like having you around." His brown eyes warmed with admiration as he studied her. "Not only are you extremely decorative, young lady, but you're witty, intelligent and capable."
Lauren acknowledged the compliment with a smile, but she wouldn't let the matter drop. He had explained why he'd interrupted, but not why he'd deliberately made Nick think there was something between Lauren and him. "And," she speculated boldly, "if Nick thinks you're interested in me, I'll become even more of a challenge. If that happens, he'll spend more time and effort pursuing me, won't he?" Before Jim could reply, Lauren finished smoothly, "And if he's busy chasing me, he won't have much time to devote to Ericka Moran, will he?"
Jim's eyes narrowed. "Nick, Ericka and I went to college together. We've been friends for years."
"Close friends?" Lauren prodded.
He shot her a piercing look, then dismissed the matter with a shrug. "Ericka and I were engaged, but that was over years ago." He gave a devilish grin. "Maybe I ought to do exactly what I told Nick I was going to do and pursue you myself."
Lauren smiled. "I have a feeling you're as jaded and cynical as he is." He looked so stung that she added teasingly, "Well, you are—but still very attractive, for all that."
"Thanks," he said dryly.
"Were you and Nick fraternity brothers?" she asked, helplessly longing to learn more about Nick.
"Nope, Nick was at college on a scholarship. He couldn't have afforded to belong to my fraternity. Don't look sorry for him, you lovely idiot. He didn't have money, but he had brains—he's a brilliant engineer. He also had the girls, including several I wanted."
"I wasn't feeling sorry for him," Lauren denied, standing up to leave.
"By the way—" Jim stopped her "—I spoke with Mary and set her straight about who was seduced by whom a few weeks ago."
Lauren sighed defeatedly. "I wish you hadn't…"
"Be damned glad I did. Mary worked for Nick's grandfather, and she's known Nick since he was a baby. She's fiercely loyal to him. She's also a staunch moralist with a particular dislike for aggressive young women who pursue Nick. She'd have made your life a living hell."
"If she's such a staunch moralist," Lauren said mutinously, "I can't imagine how she can possibly work for Nick."
Jim winked. "Nick and I are great favorites of hers. She's convinced that the two of us aren't beyond redemption."
Lauren stopped in the doorway and turned. "Jim," she said awkwardly. "Was I the only reason you came upstairs? I mean, did you make up that excuse about Curtis wanting to talk about a deal?"
Jim's brown eyes leveled curiously on her. "No, that was the truth. But it was just an excuse." He chuckled as he opened his briefcase and began shoving papers into it. "As Nick rather bluntly informed me when you left, the Curtis matter wasn't urgent enough to justify my coming up there and interrupting him. Why do you ask about Curtis?" he added.
Lauren's blood ran cold. She felt transparent and obvious. "No reason, I just wondered."
He picked up his briefcase. "Come on, I'll walk you outside."
They crossed the marble lobby together, and Jim pulled open one of the heavy glass doors for Lauren to precede him. The first thing she saw when she stepped into the sunlight was Nick striding quickly toward a long, sleek silver limousine waiting for him at the curb.
As Nick turned to slide into the back seat, he glanced toward the building and saw them. His gaze sliced over Jim before settling on Lauren. His gray eyes smiled a promise at her—and a warning: tomorr
ow he would not be so easily put off.
"Where to, Mr. Sinclair?" the chauffeur asked as Nick settled back into the luxurious automobile.
"Metro Airport." He turned his head to watch Lauren cross the wide boulevard with Jim. With sheer aesthetic appreciation he contemplated the gentle sway of her hips. There was a quiet poise, a pride, in her bearing that lent grace to her movements.
The chauffeur saw a break in the traffic, and the limousine surged into the flow of rush-hour automobiles. Now that he thought about it, Nick realized that everything about Lauren appealed to him. In the time he had known her, she had amused him, infuriated him and sexually excited him. She was laughter and sensuality, gentleness and defiance all wrapped up in an extremely alluring package.
Leaning back against the soft seat, Nick considered the affair he was planning to have with her. It was insanity to get involved with one of his employees; if he'd known it was going to happen, he'd have gotten her a job in one of his friends' companies. But it was too late now. He wanted her.
He had wanted her since that first night, when he had turned around to hand her a glass of tonic and had found not a disheveled teenager but an exquisitely beautiful woman. Nick smiled, remembering the expression on her face when she'd observed his shock. She had anticipated his surprise, and she had openly relished every instant of it.
He had decided that night to keep her at a distance. She was too young for him… he hadn't liked the unexplainable surge of desire he'd experienced when she laughingly warned him if her "slipper" fit, she was going to turn him into a handsome frog. If his desire hadn't overridden his reason when he'd taken her to Tony's for lunch, he'd never have invited her to Harbor Springs. But he had taken her there.
And she had been a virgin…
Nick's conscience pricked him, and he sighed irritably. Hell, if he hadn't made love to her another man would have, and soon. Jim Williams wanted her. So did a dozen others, he thought, remembering the calculating, avidly admiring way that many of his executives had watched her at the party on Saturday.
A vision of Lauren standing outside on the balcony that night drifted across Nick's mind. "Four weeks ago, I thought you were someone special!" she'd burst out, looking like an angry angel. "Four weeks ago, I didn't know that you were unprincipled, promiscuous and morally corrupt!" She certainly knew how to express her opinions, he thought wryly.
Every instinct he possessed warned him that an affair with Lauren would complicate his life. Already she had gotten under his skin. He should have stuck to his decision to avoid all further contact with her, the decision he'd made when he sent her away from Harbor Springs. He would have stuck to it if he hadn't seen her at the party Saturday night, looking so sexy and glamorous in that damned provocative dress.
She had wanted him that night even though she'd denied it. And she'd wanted him today in his office too. One of the first things he was going to teach that lovely, exasperating beauty was to accept her own sexuality and to admit her desires. Then he was going to bathe her senses in every exquisite sensation a man could give a woman in bed. He would teach her to please him too. He remembered her sweet, inexperienced attempts at doing so when he'd made love to her in Harbor Springs, and a stirring hardness instantly tightened his loins. The effect she had on him was incredible, he thought grimly as he shifted position.
What if she couldn't cope emotionally with an affair? What if she fell apart when it was over? He didn't want to hurt her.
Nick reached down and opened his briefcase, extracting the contracts for the land acquisition he was about to negotiate with the men who were flying in to meet with him. It was too late to worry about the possible consequences; he wanted her too badly—and she wanted him.
13
« ^ »
At one o'clock the next afternoon, Lauren went up to the eightieth floor and was informed by Mary that Mr. Sinclair wanted to see her immediately. Fighting down her nervous tension, Lauren smoothed her hair, which was held in a loose knot at her nape, and walked into his office. "You wanted to see me?" she said politely.
Nick tossed the documents he was reading down on his desk, leaned back in his chair and lazily surveyed her. "You were wearing your hair up like that the day we left for Harbor Springs," he said, his deep voice pitched seductively low. "I like it."
"In that case," Lauren said lightly, "I'll start wearing it down."
He grinned. "So that's the way we're going to play it, is it?"
"Play what?"
"This little game we started yesterday."
"I am not playing your game," she said with quiet firmness. "I do not want the prize." But she did. She wanted him forever, for herself. And she despised herself for that same stupid weakness.
Nick observed her troubled expression with a feeling of satisfaction and nodded toward the chair in front of his desk. "Sit down. I was just about to review a file I had sent up."
Relieved that he was ready to get to work, Lauren sat down, but her breath caught in her chest when he picked up the file and opened it. CONFIDENTIAL—PERSONNEL FILE was stamped across the front, and beneath it was a typed label that read, LAUREN E. DANNER/EMPLOYEE NO. 98753.
A flush tinted her delicately molded cheekbones as she remembered deliberately failing her tests and listing president as her first preference for a job. Nick would see that and—
"Hmmm," he said, "Lauren Elizabeth Danner. Elizabeth is a beautiful name and so is Lauren. They suit you."
Unable to endure the sweet torment of having him flirt with her, Lauren said repressively, "I was named after two maiden aunts. One of them had a squint and the other had warts."
Nick ignored that and continued aloud. "Color of eyes, blue." He regarded her over the top of the file, his gray eyes intimate and teasing. "They are definitely blue. A man could lose himself in those eyes of yours—they're gorgeous. "
"My right eye used to wobble unless I wore my glasses," Lauren informed him blithely. "They had to operate on it."
"A little girl with wobbly blue eyes and glasses on her nose," he reflected with a slow grin. "I'll bet you were cute."
"I looked studious, not cute."
Nick's lips twitched as if he knew exactly what she was trying to do. He turned over the application, and Lauren watched him scanning it, his gaze nearing the bottom where she had listed her job preferences. She knew the exact instant he spotted what she had written. "What the… !" he said, astonished, and then he burst out laughing. "Weatherby and I are going to have to be careful. Which of our jobs do you want the most?"
"Neither," Lauren said shortly. "I did that because on my way to the interview at Sinco, I decided I didn't want to work there after all."
"So you purposely flunked your tests, is that it?"
"That's it."
"Lauren…" he began in a soft seductive voice that instantly put her on her guard.
"I've had the dubious pleasure of reading through your file," Lauren cut in coolly. "Your public-relations file," she clarified, at his stunned look. "I know all about Bebe Leonardos and the French movie star. I even saw the picture of you that was taken with Ericka Moran the day after you sent me away because a 'business acquaintance' was coming to see you."
"And," he concluded evenly, "you were hurt."
"I was disgusted," Lauren shot back, refusing to admit to any of the anguish she'd felt. She caught hold of her temper and said with a measure of her former calm, "Now can we please get down to work?"
A moment later Nick was called into a meeting that lasted the rest of the afternoon, so Lauren was left in peace. A peace that was disturbed by Mary Callahan's frequent thoughtful glances.
At ten o'clock the next morning, Jim, looking harried, appeared at Lauren's desk. "Nick just called. He wants you up there right now, and he's going to need you for the rest of the day." Sighing, he gestured toward the report she'd been preparing for him. "Go ahead. I'll finish that."
Mary was gone when Lauren arrived, but Nick was seated at his desk, his su
it coat and tie removed, his dark head bent as he concentrated on the notes he was writing. His shirtsleeves were rolled up on his tanned forearms and his collar was unbuttoned. Lauren's gaze drifted to the tanned column of his throat. Not so long ago, she remembered, she had pressed her lips to the hollow there where his pulse beat…
She looked at his beautifully styled dark hair and the ruggedly chiseled angles of his jaw and cheek. He was the handsomest, most compelling man she had ever seen, she thought with a pang of longing. But when she spoke, her voice was calmly detached. "Jim said you needed me up here right away. What do you want me to do for you?"
Nick turned and looked at her, a smile sweeping across his features. "Now there's a question," he teased.
She pointedly ignored his sexual innuendo. "I understand that you have an urgent task for me."
"I do."
"What is it?"
"I want you to go to the coffee shop and get me something to eat."
"That—" Lauren choked. "That's your idea of urgent?"
"Very urgent," Nick replied imperturbably. "I happen to be starved."
Lauren clenched her hands into fists. "To you I may merely be some frivolous, amusing sexual object, but downstairs I have an important job to do, and Jim needs me."
"I need you, honey. I've been here since—"
"Don't you dare call me honey!" she burst out, reeling with unwanted joy at the casual endearment.
"Why not?" he cajoled, a smile lighting his face. "You're sweet."
"You won't think so if you call me honey again," Lauren promised.
His brows drew together at her tone, and Lauren had to remind herself that he was still her boss. "Oh all right!" she capitulated ungraciously. "What do you eat for breakfast?"
"Irritating secretaries," he mocked.
Lauren stalked back to her temporary office and discovered that Mary had returned. "You won't need money, Lauren," the woman said. "We have an account set up at the coffee shop."
Two things hit Lauren at once: the first was that Mary had just called her Lauren instead of her usual frosty Miss Danner. And the second was that she was smiling—and what a smile Mary Callahan had! It seemed to glow from inside her, lighting her face and softening her austere features in a way that made her seem absolutely lovely.