The Rebel Tycoon's Outrageous Proposal. Abby Gaines
hadn’t always been that way. At one time, he’d employed what he considered to be an inspired blend of instinct and logic. But in recent years he’d become a process man. The process worked, but just sometimes he liked to hear what other agents’ guts told them.
Slater shook his head. “Too soon to call.”
For the briefest moment, Crook had a sense this case wasn’t going to be as straightforward as it looked. Could it be his long-dormant instinct stirring at last? He dismissed the thought. The only thing his visit with Maggie Stephens had stirred was his hormones.
MAGGIE PACED THE CONFINES of her living room, unsettled by the intrusion of the two FBI agents. By one of them, at least.
How could she be thinking about a man when her daughter was in trouble? Even if that daughter believed Maggie had forfeited the right to worry about her long ago. What kind of a mother was she?
She knew the answer to that one. The kind of mother who always put her causes ahead of her family, and who’d probably do it all again, given the chance. With the possible exception of marrying Andrew Stephens.
After Andrew had left, she’d been thankful never to experience that powerful pull toward a man again. Until today. She couldn’t explain—couldn’t believe—the attraction she’d felt for the FBI agent.
And for no obvious reason. He wasn’t good-looking—entirely average—and he was the sort of man who would despise everything she stood for. Life had taught Maggie long ago that respect was a scarce commodity. She sure wasn’t going to find it in a man like Crook.
Though he’d surprised her as he left. Instead of lying to her and saying he liked the paintings, he’d given her an honest answer.
Maggie shook off the distraction posed by the man she’d met today. She couldn’t be attracted to him after those accusations he’d made against Holly. Holly. The oldest of Maggie’s children, but the one she always thought of as her baby, would be devastated to have her integrity questioned. She wouldn’t welcome the phone call Maggie was determined to make. Maggie was under no illusion that she could comfort Holly, or help her. But she had to try.
She braced herself for the sneer of the park manager, who considered his tenants several rungs below him, and headed to the office to use the phone.
JARED FOUND HIMSELF unreasonably excited about his meeting with Holly on Sunday night. It was because the goal he’d worked toward for nearly twenty years was so close, he told himself.
It had nothing to do with Holly’s razor-sharp analytical mind, which presented such an intriguing contrast to the sensuous, almost mysterious curve of her mouth. And definitely nothing to do with the hottest kiss in history, the one they’d shared Friday night.
They both knew he wouldn’t do it again.
Tonight Holly opened the door promptly in response to his knock.
“Had a good day?” After an initial nanosecond scan of her person, Jared kept his gaze firmly on her face. The red leather miniskirt revealed gorgeous legs that Friday’s jeans had only hinted at. Teamed with a white cotton blouse with off-the-shoulder sleeves, the overall look was one of sultry innocence. Very sexy.
But he knew she wouldn’t appreciate his appreciation. And after his performance the other night, the last thing he needed was to get their first evening together—working together—off to an unpropitious start.
“A long day.” She stifled a yawn—hardly the usual reaction Jared encountered when he arrived at a woman’s home—as she led the way into the apartment.
Jared crossed to the office area. Apart from a small pile of papers on the desk, there was no evidence of three days spent on his deals. Could it be that Holly wasn’t as thorough as everyone said?
He soon found it was more a matter of her being meticulously tidy. She’d gone over a ton of information since he’d last seen her, and she ran through his options with a thoroughness that lifted the hairs on the back of his neck.
Was there any hope at all that she might not figure out what he was up to?
“Jared?”
His eyes traveled over her slightly parted lips. Lips whose sweet, heated response he could recall without effort.
“What did you say?” he asked, annoyance seeping into his tone.
She bridled. “I asked if you want to hear my thoughts on pricing. But if you don’t want to…”
“Go ahead.” He got up and walked to the window, looked out at Elliott Bay instead of at Holly.
When she told him her conclusions, Jared was startled at how similar the numbers were to those he’d come up with, though her rationale was quite different. She knew her stuff inside-out—her only fault was that she explained things in such detail, he couldn’t get a word in edgewise to compliment her.
They were so engrossed in their discussion that he didn’t check his watch until hunger pangs reminded him they hadn’t eaten.
“It’s nine o’clock,” he told Holly. “I’m starving. Let’s get a pizza and keep working.”
She wrinkled her nose, as if pizza didn’t suit her, but agreed, so he went ahead and ordered. He poured two glasses of wine from a bottle he found in the refrigerator. When he looked up at Holly, she was rubbing the back of her neck with both hands. The movement lifted her breasts beneath the thin cotton of her blouse, drawing his eyes down to the high, rounded curves. He wondered which of those sexy bras she had on underneath. Maybe the transparent, gauzy white underwire with the front opening clasp. Or the—what was it, ivory?—with the imagination-stirring gold buckles on the straps.
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