скачать книгу бесплатно
“I can vouch for her,” AnnaMae said from the doorway. “She came in at ten-thirty, which I know because I asked her to wait a moment while my TV show finished. Then we had coffee, as Holly said. We both went to bed at eleven-thirty.”
“Where were you before you came home?” he asked.
“I had dinner at the Green Room with a client,” Holly said. “Is this about Dave? Is he all right?”
“Someone broke into your condo last night.” Crook rolled his eyes when she gasped. “Your alarm went off at eleven. The security company got there five minutes later, but whoever did it was long gone. It doesn’t appear anything was taken—TV, DVD and so on. I need to know if you had any valuables.”
She shook her head. “Nothing, since you confiscated my laptop. Is there any damage?”
He ignored the question. “Did you keep any work files at home that someone might have tried to retrieve for you?”
“You think I organized someone to break into my own home?” Appalled, she stared at him. “I thought you already searched the place.”
“We did. We cleaned out your home office.”
She winced.
“But maybe there’s a safe we didn’t find.” He scowled at her. “We will find it, so you might as well tell me now.”
“There’s no safe.” Holly was still trying to absorb the news. “It must have been kids fooling around. How did they get in?”
“They broke an upstairs window, managed to get it open.”
“I always lock my windows and hide the key.”
Crook had the grace to look shamefaced. “One of our guys left the key in the lock.”
“I’ll expect you to compensate me for any loss or damage,” Holly said, outrage overriding her instinctive respect for an officer of the law.
Crook grunted, a sound that could have meant either yes or no. Or more likely, Get off my back, lady. He hauled himself up off the sofa. “Call me if you think of anything else that might be relevant. We’ll dust for fingerprints this morning.” He looked her in the eye. “We don’t think this was kids, Ms. Stephens. We think this is about whatever you’re mixed up in.”
When he’d gone, Holly sank into the spot he’d vacated on the couch. “Can things get any worse?”
“You need coffee.” Her friend bustled out of the room.
Holly shut her eyes, clamped a hand to her forehead to ward off an incipient headache. She breathed deeply—in, out, in, out. A tap-tapping at the window jolted her out of her attempted trance. She screamed, and AnnaMae came running.
“What is it?”
Holly pointed a trembling finger at the window where a stick topped with a white lace-and-chiffon bra tapped on the pane.
A minute later she snatched her bra off the end of the stick that Jared proffered from the living room doorway.
“Where did you get this?” She clutched the bra to her chest, then realized how suggestive that looked. She whipped it behind her back. “That’s my bag.”
“Nothing wrong with your eyesight.” He advanced into the room and dropped the canvas overnight bag. “You’ll find a few of your things in there.”
“It was you! You broke into my home last night—for a panty raid?” She heard the beginnings of a shriek in her voice and clenched her teeth.
Uninvited, Jared sat on the couch. AnnaMae, agog with curiosity, propelled Holly to an armchair. She was about to take the space next to Jared herself, but Holly’s glare deterred her. With visible reluctance, she left the room.
“You needed some clothes. I got them,” he said.
She’d have to be stupid to believe he’d done it to help her.
“No need to thank me. The look on your face when I knocked on the window was all the reward I need.”
That was the real reason. He’d derived puerile pleasure from her embarrassment. “How dare you break in—that place is a crime scene.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And you had me convinced you’re innocent.”
“You know what I mean. The FBI taped it off. And how did you get into my complex? The gate’s always locked.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but she held up a hand. “I don’t want to know. I’d probably feel compelled to report it to Special Agent Crook.”
He snorted. “You can take law-abiding too far, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. This is exactly what I’ve never liked about you—”
“You’ve never liked about me?” His voice had gone dangerously quiet. “You hadn’t met me before yesterday, but you never liked me?”
When he put it like that, it sounded unreasonable. “You’re twisting my words. I said I never liked one thing about you, that you’re known to deal on the fringes of the law.”
“So much for your promise to suspend judgment,” he snapped. “Since we’re clearing the air, is there anything else you’ve ‘never liked’ about me?”
Well, he’d asked for honesty, her personal strength. “I don’t like the deals you make that infringe on the rights of small shareholders. I don’t like the way you mislead the market, distracting people from your shadier deals by feigning an interest in a legitimate one. I don’t like the way you leak confidential information to the press when it suits you.”
Jared’s admiration for Holly grew. She was smart enough to sift through the business gossip, the newspaper articles extolling his successes, and figure out exactly what he was up to. Panic momentarily suffused him. Would she realize the role he’d set her up to play in this current deal?
With that extraordinary perception she seemed to have where he was concerned, she said, “In light of all that, I want you to promise me one thing.”
“You’re in no position to make demands,” he reminded her.
“Promise you will give me an honest answer to any question. I won’t work with you otherwise.”
He briefly considered agreeing, then lying to her when he had to. But contrary to the low opinion Holly had of his personal integrity, he didn’t break his promises. And he only lied when really necessary, which was seldom. “If I answer a question, you’ll know it’s the truth,” he said. “But I reserve the right not to answer every question.”
Because why he wanted this deal so badly was none of her business.
Holly nodded. “Now,” she said briskly, “is there anything you don’t like about me?”
For an incredulous moment he stared at her. Anxious to play fair, she was giving him a chance to insult her the way she’d just done him. He laughed loud and long.
“I mean it.” Pink tinged her cheeks. “It’s only fair.”
Her steady gaze held his, but her tongue moistened those full lips—how could he ever have thought her plain?—in an anxious gesture.
“You’re uptight.”
“I know.” She looked relieved that he’d stated the obvious.
He thought back over what he’d heard people say about her. It was human nature not to give unqualified praise, so those who admired her creativity, her technical precision, her intelligence, usually found something bad to say, as well. “You’re stubborn and inflexible.”
She was actually nodding, as if these were compliments. He had to play hardball. “You’re condescending to those you consider your intellectual inferiors.”
“I am not!”
Now he had her. Though the hurt in her gray-blue eyes made him feel like a heel.
“I admit I’m not a great people person,” she said, “but I would never—”
“Hey.” Jared cut her off. “You asked. You don’t have to justify yourself to me. If it’s any consolation, I’ve discovered one thing I really like about you.”
“What’s that?” she said suspiciously.
“Your taste in lingerie.” He gestured to the bag between them. “For a lady who likes to dress so shapeless and dull, you’ve got some pretty hot stuff in there.”
Holly felt her face flame. To hide her embarrassment, she leaned forward and pulled the bag toward her. She unzipped it and looked through what he’d brought. Most of her lingerie, and beneath it some clothes.
But not her clothes.
“I don’t believe it.” She rummaged through the bag again. “These are my sister’s things—none of these clothes are mine.” He’d obviously gone into the bottom drawer of her tallboy, where the overflow from the spare bedroom found a home. “I have a whole wardrobe full of suits and blouses. Why didn’t you bring those?”
“I only chose stuff I liked,” Jared said airily. “None of the rest came close. Besides, my office is casual.”
“But I don’t—” Holly counted to five. There would be plenty else to stress about in the weeks to come. At least she had fresh underwear and no need to spend a fortune on new clothes, assuming she was still around the same size as her sister.
“There’s more,” he said. “In the zip pocket on the end.”
She felt the outline of something hard through the bag and opened the pocket. “Oh.” Carefully, she pulled the painting out. Its bright colors shone in the dull of the living room. She blinked back tears. “I… How did you…?” She swallowed. “Thank you.”
He dismissed her thanks with a wave of his hand. “It looked like it might be important.”
“It is.” She clasped it to her chest. “It’s my father.”
“You mean, he painted it?”
“My mother did. It’s a portrait of my father.” Holly’s shaky laugh held equal measures of frustration and puzzlement. “I have no idea what Mom meant by it, but it’s all I have left of him.”
Jared narrowed his eyes. Could Holly not guess the meaning of a painting under whose warm, colorful surface lurked a cold, blue heart? Chances were, she couldn’t. Abstract representations would be beyond this woman who lived her life in black and white.
Holly had no idea how many shades of gray there were in this world.
“Did your father die?” Dammit, he didn’t want to get personal with her. He’d never have asked the question if he hadn’t been in this bizarre situation, sitting opposite a woman whose underwear drawer he’d enjoyed riffling through far too much. Now she sat in front of him in the thinnest of satin robes, showing a tantalizing hint of creamy cleavage where the lapels met. He dropped his gaze to her bare feet, only to find they were—with their pale pink-tipped toes—troublingly, innocently erotic. Jared dragged his eyes back up to her face, which was no hardship.
Thankfully she didn’t want to get personal, either. Her expression cooled as she laid the painting on the table. “No,” she said briefly.
Fine by him. He got to his feet. “No need to thank me for getting your clothes.” He grinned. Nothing was as much fun as pushing Holly off the moral high ground. “I’ll see you at work. You’d better get moving, if you want to be on time.”
He sauntered from the room, savoring the way she ground her teeth at his implication she might be late.
CHAPTER FOUR
HOLLY SQUIRMED in her seat. She just couldn’t get comfortable wearing casual clothes to work. No matter that everybody else in Jared’s company was dressed equally informally.
She could see right through the heavy glass tabletop in the Harding Corporation boardroom to her sister’s ultra-tight jeans. And the jeans reminded her of the appreciative and comprehensive look Jared had cast over them when she arrived at the office. At least the white cotton shirt she’d teamed with the pants was almost respectable.
But how she ached for a return to the ordered, peaceful life symbolized by her conservative wardrobe. Would she ever find her way back? She buried her head in her hands, blotting out the sight of the jeans, blotting out these surroundings she didn’t want to be in, blotting out the man she didn’t want to work for.
“Are you okay?” Impatience rather than sympathy edged Jared’s words.
She took a breath that was unfortunately shuddery. “Tell me more about these deals I’m working on.”
Jared paused a moment, presumably to see if she was about to dissolve into inconvenient tears. He stretched and clasped his hands behind his head, a movement that emphasized the lean length of his torso beneath his black knit shirt. Holly dropped her gaze back down to the papers in front of her.
“Two companies are involved,” he said. “I want to buy Wireless World and merge it with one of my subsidiaries that isn’t doing so well.”
Holly nodded, his no-nonsense tone flipping her out of her black mood and into work. It wasn’t unusual to put a highly profitable business like Wireless World together with one that was performing badly for the sake of tax benefits. In the up-and-down Seattle software industry, it happened all the time. “Any anticipated problems?” she asked, and was pleased that came out steady.
“One of the family stockholders has agreed to sell me his shares. I’ll have a big enough holding that I can make life difficult for the rest of them if they don’t sell me theirs.”
“A hostile takeover.” She couldn’t blame the owners, a well-known family from Atlanta, for their reluctance to be bought out by Jared Harding. It would be like the three little pigs opening the door to the big bad wolf.
He grinned, as if he’d read her thoughts. “They’ll come around.”
“And if they don’t?”
He blinked, and the humor was gone. “Too bad.”
Holly gritted her teeth. “What’s the other company we’re looking at?” Did she imagine his hesitation?
“EC Solutions. It’s a small software company, but it’s made some significant overseas sales.”
She leaned forward. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll make sure you get it.”
Jared had a few ideas as to how she could satisfy him—and they didn’t involve balance sheets or calculators. When Holly had turned up in those skintight jeans this morning, he’d had the first inkling that choosing to liberate the least dull clothes in her condo might have been a bad idea. And though now she’d pulled her hair back into its usual unflattering style, in his mind’s eye he saw it loose as it had been earlier. He’d realized then that what he’d taken to be no particular color was in fact a rich brown that, depending on the light, glinted red or gold.
“What do you want, Jared?” She pressed him, in the politest of tones.
He preferred women who didn’t ask any question more difficult than “Can I get you a beer?” Holly would ask so many questions, he’d be forced to start thinking about the answers.
What did he personally want from this deal?
Revenge.
“I want,” he said, “to win Wireless World without being plastered all over the newspapers as a predator and without doubts about the legality of the subsequent merger.”
He didn’t tell her what he really wanted—a deal so tight it would frustrate the hell out of anyone who wanted to outdo him. Would make them careless, ready to rush headlong into the next opportunity to beat him.
