The Last Groom On Earth. Kristin James
from doing what he wanted.
Finally, grudgingly, he said, “Yes. I suppose I am—though, God knows, I’ll probably regret it. I can imagine what your records are like. You probably keep all your invoices in a shoe box.”
Angela grinned impishly. “I’d love to tell you that they were, just to see the smoke come out of your ears, but I can’t malign Kelly. She keeps excellent records. She’s not at all like me.”
“Obviously.”
Angela made a face at him. She watched him, more relaxed now that she had choked out her apology. She wondered why she had not remembered how handsome he was. Even if he had filled out, surely the bare bones of his good looks had been there: the firm, well-cut lips, the strong bones of his face, the dark-lashed gray eyes.
Bryce walked over to the table and sat down across from her. Angela could see the wary look on his face, and she wondered what he thought she was going to do. She decided not to help him out. She gazed back at him with wide eyes, swinging her foot and waiting for him to make the first move.
“All right,” he said, taking out a yellow pad and pencil and settling down to take notes. “Let’s get some basics. I need to know about your business.”
“Mother didn’t tell you?”
“She said only that you made computer games.”
“That’s right. Fantasy sort of games, mostly, some flight and road simulation sort of things. We’re beginning to move into the CD-Rom area. Our mainstay and what we started out with are the Concordia games and others like them.”
“Concordia games?” Bryce raised his eyebrows.
“You’ve never heard of them?”
“I don’t play computer games. I use my computer for work.”
“Of course. How silly of me.” Angela’s smile flashed, creating a dimple in her cheek.
There was something definitely sexy, Angela thought, about Bryce’s serious, intense gaze. The silvery gray eyes seemed to go right through her. She wondered if he brought the same single-minded intensity to his lovemaking as he did to his work. The thought sent a shiver through her.
She glanced away from him quickly. She couldn’t believe that she was thinking about Bryce this way. Bryce Richards, of all people! It was crazy; they could hardly manage to string together three or four civil sentences to each other. The thought of ever going to bed with him was sheer insanity. He was not her type, and she felt sure that Bryce would run as fast as he could the other way if he thought that she was interested in him. He had made it very clear what he thought of her.
“The Concordia games are quest games,” she said quickly to get her mind off her strange thoughts. “They are set in a fictional kingdom, Concordia, in some past time, vaguely medieval. There’s a king and queen and their beautiful daughter, Princess Alicia. Their enemy is an evil sorceress, Maladora.”
“Ah!” Bryce’s brows flew up in a look of enlightenment. “That’s who you were dressed as this afternoon.”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Oh. For Tim’s party…it’s a week from Friday. A big charity costume party he throws every year for this children’s charity he’s involved with.”
“Oh.” His face cleared. “Okay. So what does this Maladora do?”
“Anyway, Maladora is very powerful, and though, of course, she’s defeated in each game, she always finds some way of coming back. In a weird way, people are probably more attached to her than to the princess or even Sir Leopold. He’s the knight from another country who came to Concordia and released the royal family from the enchantment that Maladora had put them under. That was our first game, Concordia. Our second was Concordia: Maladora Returns and the third was Concordia: Alicia’s Escape, and so on. Right now I’m working on the seventh. I’m going to introduce a new villain and have Maladora on the same side as the royal family for once. The games are humorous, particularly the contemporary series. We always put in little tongue-in-cheek things. They’re not the violent ones where you kick and stab and shoot your way to the end—you win by figuring out clues and collecting things along the way, then using them at the right time.”
“I see.”
From the expression on his face, Angela doubted that he did, but she let it pass. Bryce, she suspected, simply didn’t understand games; they were beyond his scope. That was the way her parents were. Numbers made sense; fantasies and entertainment did not.
“And these games are successful?”
“Very.” Angela bit back a smile at the faint tone of amazement in his voice. “People love them. They’re interesting and complex—you can work on them for days. One gets fun and a sense of accomplishment out of them. That big open room downstairs in our office, the one that has all the little cubicles with people with headsets?”
He nodded, remembering glancing into the room.
“Those are our telephone support lines. People who buy the games call to get help in using them. The support staff help customers if they’re having trouble setting up, and if they’re stuck, they’ll give them hints and ideas. The support lines are busy all day long. We’re grossing millions.”
Bryce looked faintly shocked. Angela supposed that from her mother’s explanation, he had expected Angela to have some little shoestring operation.
“How is the company set up?” he asked, scribbling on the pad.
“It’s a corporation. Tim and I started out as partners, but when it got bigger, we incorporated. Tim and I own nearly all the shares.”
“Kelly’s not a partner?”
“No. She’s bought some shares, and all our employees have gotten some shares as bonuses, but basically Tim and I own it. We began it. Later, we hired Kelly to do our accounting. Her job has grown as we have. Basically, now she oversees all operations except creating the games.”
“You and Tim do that?”
“Yes. I think up the stories and write out the plot line. Tim creates the software for them. We each have a few assistants now, but we still pretty much do all the Concordia games ourselves.” She shrugged. “It’s a lot more fun than overseeing the other stuff. I leave the simulation games alone. That’s Jeremy Coger’s field.”
She went on to explain how the games were packaged, marketed and distributed, and all the while Bryce scribbled across his pad. Angela looked at his. hand as it moved across the page. His skin was tanned, the back of his hand and his fingers lightly dotted with curling dark hairs. His fingers were long and strong, the nails short-clipped. It was a very masculine, no-nonsense sort of hand, but not stubby or rough. It wasn’t hard to imagine it moving with gentleness across a woman’s body.
Suddenly Angela’s thoughts flew to the bed beside them. She had hardly noticed it when she came in, but now it seemed to fill the room. She kept her eyes firmly away from it, sure that Bryce would somehow guess her thoughts if she so much as glanced at it. But, of course, since she was determined not to look at it, looking at it became an almost impossible urge to resist. She jumped restlessly to her feet and began to pace.
There was a long moment of silence, and Angela pivoted to look at Bryce. He was watching her, his brow drawn into a frown. She frowned back.
“Well? Are we through?”
He started and looked disconcerted. “What? Oh. No, I…let’s see.” He turned back to his yellow pad. “What about the IRS? When did that start?”
“About three months ago. They called us in for a routine audit. We showed them our records, and I assumed that was the last of it. Then all of a sudden, they started asking more questions, nosing around. I don’t know what they saw that set them off. This one guy, McGuire, kept saying that we didn’t