Sarah's Child

  And when she kissed him, she’d kissed him as if she meant it. The unquestioning response she’d given him had almost driven him beyond the boundaries of his control. The feel of her soft hips pressing into him was enough to make him forget everything but the warm female body in his arms. Far from diminishing on closer acquaintance, the physical interest he’d felt in her for years was intensifying every time he saw her. He’d seen her long white-gold hair in a shimmering halo around her shoulders, and now he wanted to see it spread across a pillow as she lay waiting for him, her slim, graceful body bare, her mouth swollen and pouty from his kisses. A possessive surge made him grind his teeth, and he thought of the cold shower he’d have to take before he’d be able to sleep. If he’d stayed with her, he’d be relaxed and sleepy by now, all of his tensions drained out of him.

  But she wasn’t just any woman. He couldn’t use her and then toss her aside. Apart from the fact that they had to work together, he wanted more from her than that. A one-night stand wouldn’t do it with her; he wanted to unlock all her secrets, thrill time and time again to the sweet, hot way she melted against him. He thought of having an affair with her, and was surprised to suddenly find himself wondering if an affair would be enough to satisfy him. He wanted to know everything about her; he wanted to completely shatter her cool control and learn all the things that he could do to give her pleasure. He was adrift, and he needed Sarah right then more than he could comprehend, in all ways.

  It was more than just physical, he realized abruptly. He could talk with her; she was intelligent, amusing, but there was the added bonus that he didn’t have to talk to her, because she had a quality of serenity that made silence possible. Whenever he looked into the shadows of her exotic green eyes, he had the feeling she understood everything, without words.

  But she was a dedicated career woman; she’d made it pretty clear over the years that she did just fine on her own, thank you, without a man making demands on her time. She’d probably reject out of hand any hint of seriousness from him, so he had to keep it light, casual, let her become accustomed to being in his company. He had doubts, though, about his ability to keep it light whenever she turned into his arms and answered his kisses so ardently. He wanted to throw her across a bed and kiss her from her head to her feet, feast his senses on the sleek womanliness of her body. But what would she say?

  Maybe she wouldn’t reject an offer of an affair. She was, after all, a modern, adult woman; if her response to him was anything to go by, she was willing to have sex with him, but he knew from working with her that she kept her personal life strictly separated from her business life. That would be one strike against him, but he thought he could eventually convince her. He’d take it slowly with her, not rushing her, letting her lower all those defenses of hers. He couldn’t say why, but he sensed that she was wary with him, deep inside where he couldn’t see. Perhaps she was wary with all men. Diane had wondered aloud sometimes if Sarah hadn’t had a married lover and been burned pretty badly by him.

  There was a well-camouflaged vulnerability about her, and he wondered what fool had been stupid enough to have all that pale glory in his bed and let her slip away from him.

  Sarah hadn’t expected to hear from Rome again that weekend, so when she answered the phone the next afternoon and heard his voice, a thrill of pleasure sang through her. Before she could do more than say hello, however, he cut across her greeting.

  “Sarah, Henry’s had a heart attack, a bad one.”

  Shocked, Sarah almost dropped the phone, and she tightened her grip on it. Her boss hadn’t seemed the sort to be struck by heart trouble. He was a small man, wiry to the point of thinness, and very active. He was an avid golfer, jogged every day, and in Sarah’s memory had never indulged in any of the excesses people were warned against. He wasn’t the dynamic man that Rome was, but Sarah was fond of him. “Will he live?” she finally asked quietly, going straight to the most important question.

  “It’s touch and go. His wife called me; I’m at the hospital now.” Someone in the background said something to him, and Rome said, “Hang on a minute.” He covered the receiver with his hand, reducing his words to a muffled jumble of sounds. Then he came back to her, his voice brisk. “He took some reports home with him this weekend that we’ll need Monday morning. Can you go over to his house and pick them up? The housekeeper will let you in.”

  “Yes, of course,” she agreed automatically. “Which reports do you need?”

  “The Sterne financial statement, and the projected growth pattern. Look, go through his briefcase and pull out whatever you think we’ll need. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “But what hospital is he in—?” Sarah began, only to be cut off by a click. Well, there wasn’t anything she could do now anyway. She’d find out more the next morning, and perhaps then there would be a more definite prognosis than “touch and go.” Distressed by her boss’s sudden illness, she quickly combed her hair, then drove over to his house. As instructed, the housekeeper let her in, and the tiny little woman told Sarah the details. Mr. Graham had seemed fine that morning, and had played nine holes of golf. After lunch, he’d complained of pains in his left arm, then abruptly collapsed.

  “It can come at any time,” the housekeeper said solemnly, shaking her head. “You just never know.”

  “No, you never do,” Sarah agreed.

  It was the next morning, when she was called to an unusual meeting in Mr. Edwards’s office, before Sarah realized that Mr. Graham’s heart attack could drastically affect her own job. Rome was present too, his dark eyes concerned as he watched her.

  Sarah darted a quick glance at him, quivering as she thought of the way he’d kissed her, then just as quickly looked away. She couldn’t meet the intensity of his gaze and keep her mind on her job, and that was distressing. No matter how much pressure she’d been under, she’d always been able to perform her duties; it was upsetting to realize that Rome could throw her off balance with just one look.

  “Sarah, sit down, please,” Mr. Edwards invited, his shrewd eyes kind as he watched her. Sarah had always gotten along with Mr. Edwards, but he’d never before asked her to attend a meeting. She sat down and calmly folded her hands in her lap.

  “Henry won’t be back,” Mr. Edwards said gently. “I’ve talked to his doctor personally. If he takes it easy, avoids stress, and doesn’t have another attack, he may live a number of years, but he won’t be able to work. He’s going to take an early retirement. Rome is being promoted to senior vice president.”

  Again Sarah risked a quick glance at Rome, to find him still watching her with that unnerving intensity. He leaned forward in his chair and offered, “I can’t hire you as my secretary. Kali has been my secretary for years, and of course she’ll move up with me.”

  That wasn’t a surprise. Sarah gave him a gentle smile that ripped through his insides, causing his fist to clench suddenly. She hadn’t expected to be his secretary; it would never have worked anyway. She simply couldn’t have worked so closely with him, every day. It had been bad enough just seeing him occasionally. “Yes, of course. Am I being fired?”

  “Good lord, no!” Mr. Edwards said, startled. “No, don’t think that at all. But we wanted to give you a choice. I’m bringing a man in from Montreal to replace Rome, and his secretary doesn’t want to relocate. If you want the job, it’s yours, and he’s agreeable. If you’d rather transfer to some other department, just say so. You’ve done an outstanding job for Spencer-Nyle over the years; the choice of jobs is yours.”

  Sarah thought of transferring, but she really liked the intense atmosphere of the executive offices, where decisions were made that affected thousands of people. The challenge kept her interested, and though she was in proximity to Rome, the fast pace of her work tended to keep her mind off him during the day.

  “I’d like to be his secretary,” she finally answered gravely. “What’s his name?”

  “Maxwell Conroy. He’s been directing our Montreal
office very competently. I believe he’s English.”

  “Yes,” Rome confirmed. Probably Rome had already pulled Maxwell Conroy’s personnel file from the computer and memorized every word of it.

  “Good,” Mr. Edwards said heartily, rising to his feet and signaling that they were dismissed. Rome followed Sarah out the door, but didn’t return to his own office. He was close behind her as she went into her office, and he closed the door behind them. Feeling absurdly nervous, Sarah moved away from him and sought refuge behind her desk.

  “I want you to know,” he murmured, leaning over the desk and bringing his face close to hers, “I want you for my secretary…badly…but my common sense tells me that I’d never get any work done. I’d be the stereotypical boss who chases his secretary around the desk, so for the sake of the company, I suppose I’ll have to keep Kali.”

  Sarah stared at him, losing herself in the dark wells of his eyes. “I understand,” she whispered.

  “Do you?” He straightened, his smile quizzical as he looked down at her. “I’m not so certain that I do. Maybe you can explain it. Will you go out to dinner with me tonight?”

  She normally didn’t make dates during the week, as she never knew when she would have to work late, but when Rome asked her, her usual caution flew out the window. “Yes, please.” She couldn’t hide the pleasure in her eyes, and he stared at her for a moment before he leaned down once again and kissed her once, hard.

  “I’ll pick you up at eight. How does Chinese sound?”

  “Wonderful. I love Chinese.”

  Her hands shook after he’d gone when she tried to get through her routine paperwork. This was beginning to look like a serious relationship, and there was no way she could back off from it, no way she even wanted to. She thought of Diane, and her eyes closed briefly. She would have died in Diane’s place, if she could have, but no one had been given a choice. Rome was free now, physically and legally if not emotionally, and whatever chance she had with him, Sarah meant to take it.

  If he didn’t have a business dinner scheduled, Rome took her out every night that week. Sarah didn’t question her good fortune; she simply enjoyed every moment she had with him. Reminding herself that he’d asked only to be friends, she tried not to say anything or make any gestures that he could interpret as being flirtatious, though sometimes that hardly seemed to matter. When he kissed her good night, his light kiss would linger, as if he were inexorably drawn to the soft warmth of her mouth, and soon she’d be locked in his arms as they kissed with all the pent-up fervor of teenagers. But there was no more than that; he always drew away before any deeper intimacy developed between them, and Sarah took that to mean that he didn’t intend any serious relationship to grow between them. He seemed content with things as they were; he had companionship and lively conversation from her, as well as the comfort of shared interests. She wanted more; she wanted everything he had to give, but perhaps he was giving her all he had. She knew that Diane was never far from his mind, and whenever they talked about her, as they inevitably did, his expression would grow bleak.

  A week after Mr. Graham’s heart attack, Maxwell Conroy flew in from Montreal. He was a tall, lean Englishman with a precise British upper-class accent, a cap of golden hair, and the liveliest, most wickedly dancing blue-green eyes Sarah had ever seen. He was more than handsome; he had an ageless, aristocratic beauty to him that held women bemused, staring at him helplessly. If Sarah had been able to see anyone but Rome, she would probably have fallen in love with Maxwell Conroy on sight, but as it was, he received only her usual polite, slightly remote smile.

  He wasted no time. The first time Sarah was alone with him he asked her out to dinner.

  She looked up at him with startled, wide eyes. There was no way of mistaking his intentions, not with those luminous eyes so plainly telegraphing his thoughts. She bit her lip; how could she refuse him without making things difficult between them at work? She didn’t want to commit herself, though, because Rome could ask her out at any time. “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she finally refused, keeping her voice gentle. “We have to work together, and you know that although there aren’t any actual company rules against employees dating, it’s generally discouraged within the same department.”

  “I also know that as long as people are discreet it’s generally ignored.”

  She drew a deep breath. “I’m seeing someone else.”

  “Would he mind?” Maxwell asked promptly, and Sarah gave a low chuckle.

  “Probably not,” she admitted, her laugh fading into an echo of pain that was revealed in the way the soft green of her eyes grew misty with shadows.

  “Then he’s a fool,” Maxwell said under his breath, his eyes on her sleek, pale knot of hair. “If you should decide to give someone else a chance, do let me know.”

  “Yes.” For a moment, she met his warm, piercing gaze. “I will.”

  In all truth, she was more attracted to Maxwell than she’d been to any other man in her life, except for Rome. She’d liked Maxwell on sight, and in a curious way she felt relaxed with him, for she sensed that he recognized the boundaries she’d set and would respect them until she gave him permission to go beyond them.

  That afternoon Rome and Maxwell lingered in the hallway, finishing a discussion before leaving for the day. Sarah locked up the office and murmured a good night to them as she walked past, carefully not letting her glance linger on Rome.

  Maxwell turned so he could watch her walk down the hallway, his brilliant eyes narrowed with interest. Rome’s dark gaze sharpened, and he too turned to watch Sarah, noting the grace with which she walked, the way her skirt moved fluidly about her lovely legs. He didn’t like the way Maxwell was looking at her, like a cat lovingly surveying the canary it was about to have for lunch, and a slow curl of anger began in his stomach.

  “She’s a very pretty woman,” he commented, probing for a response, and every nerve in his body waited for Maxwell’s answer.

  Maxwell shot him an incredulous look. “Pretty? She’s bloody beautiful. She’s so subtle, so understated, that you have to really look to see how pure and classic her face is.”

  Rome had seen her face glowing with pleasure, her lips swollen from his kisses and begging for more. He was proceeding at an excruciatingly slow pace, waiting for a signal from her that she was feeling the frustration of ending their evenings with only kisses. Yes, she liked his kisses, but there was still an aloofness to her that he hadn’t been able to break, and no matter how torridly she kissed him, she didn’t invite him further. He was beginning to feel desperate, his body aching for release. He’d been devoting his evenings to her, so there’d been no casual meeting with any other woman to relieve his sexual urges. He hadn’t come up against such a mental stone wall since he’d been a randy teenager, determinedly trying to seduce his virginal girlfriend every Friday night in the backseat of his car.

  But if Sarah ever lost her self-control enough to give in to passion, it would be with him. He’d be damned if he’d let Maxwell see her with that cool reserve melted into primitive heat and longing. Her desire would be his, and his alone.

  “I’ve noticed how she looks,” he said evenly, but his tone signaled a warning to the other man. Maxwell looked at him sharply, then sighed.

  “So, you’ve beaten me to her, have you?”

  “I’ve known her for years,” Rome replied obliquely.

  That elicited a snort from Maxwell. “I’ve known my mother’s housekeeper for years too, but I don’t warn men away from her.”

  Rome laughed, something that had become easier during this past week. Despite himself, he liked Maxwell. Max might pursue Sarah relentlessly, but he’d never be sneaky about it; he’d simply take his chances. That made no difference to Rome’s determination to have her all to himself, but he relaxed, his eyes meeting Max’s with complete masculine understanding.

  Max shrugged with an elegant movement of his lean shoulders. “I’ll be waiting in the wings, i
f you should fail.”

  “I’m reassured,” Rome said sardonically.

  Max smiled at him wryly. “Don’t be.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The cocktail party to welcome Max to the Dallas headquarters was overflowing with people anxious to be seen by and talk with the upper echelon of Spencer-Nyle. Rome, Mr. Edwards, and Max were the center of attention, as they were the triumvirate that controlled billions of dollars and thousands of jobs. Mr. Edwards, a lean, quiet man whose shrewdness and corporate savvy had kept him at the top for fifteen years, had hand-chosen his lieutenants and been well-rewarded for his trust in them. Rome was being groomed for the chairmanship, which he would certainly attain when Mr. Edwards retired. Watching the ambitious young executives swarm around him, Sarah realized that it was common knowledge, up and down the ranks, that Rome was Mr. Edwards’s chosen successor. Max, on the other hand, was an unknown, but already there was an ease between him and his superiors that told everyone he was on the inside.

  Tired of being pumped for information about Max, Sarah developed the strategy of staying on the move. It took a well-planned schedule to move in, take up a handful of peanuts or dip a stalk of celery into the cheese dip, then waltz on without pausing long enough to give anyone an opening. She clutched her single drink of the evening in her hand, taking tiny sips and trying to eat enough to absorb the alcohol before it could go to her head. Earlier, a quick foray into the tiny kitchen, where the caterers were frantically trying to keep pace with the appetites of the guests, had produced a small glass of milk, which she had slugged back with all the delicacy of a stevedore downing his first frosty beer after working all day in hundred-degree heat.

  “You’re gobbling peanuts like you’ve been on a starvation diet,” Rome said in her ear, startling her. He took the cocktail from her hand and replaced it with a tall glass filled with a pale amber liquid and ice cubes. “There. Drink this instead. Ginger ale.” He winked at her, and finished the cocktail for her.