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He looked at Lexie again. “When can you start?”
Her smile widened, positively dazzling now. “I can be in first thing tomorrow.”
He nodded, a little breathless in the face of thatsmile. He struggled to his feet and shook her hand, then watched her leave the room, his eyes focused on her curvy bottom in that tight skirt. He knew plenty of guys who’d count themselves lucky to have just hired a secretary this sexy.
But those were guys who hadn’t spent the last year digging out from under a fiasco of a failed marriage. Guys who hadn’t learned how dangerous a really sexy woman could be.
LEXIE SET THE BUD VASE on the corner of her desk and stepped back to admire the single pink rose she’d bought on the way to work this morning. From now on, she wanted flowers on her desk every day. Today, her first at her new job, was special and called for a rose, but other days she might have carnations or daisies. The kind of flower didn’t matter so much as treating herself to that little bit of extra beauty.
She looked around the front office space of Delaney Investigations and couldn’t suppress a thrill of excitement. It was happening. She really was changing her life. No more sitting back and dreaming about what could be. Now she was all about making things happen.
She smoothed a hand over her new gray tweed dress. The dress and the matching cropped jacket were made of a conservative fabric, but were cut to cling to every curve. No more dull clothes for her. Now she was a real bomb-shell with a whole closet full of pencil skirts, fitted jackets, bustiers and designer diva fashions.
The door to the back office opened and she turned to greet Nick Delaney. Though landing a hunk for a boss hadn’t been on her list, she had no complaints. Nick looked exactly like the image of a private investigator she’d always had in her mind: dark hair and eyes, broad shoulders, ruggedly handsome features. He hadn’t smiled much so far; at times he was almost surly, but there was no real anger in his grumpiness. If this were a movie, he’d be a better-looking Humphrey Bogart and she’d be the femme fatale who stole his heart. It was fun to pretend to play the part. “Can I get you something, Nick?”
“I need a letter typed.” He handed her a sheet of paper on which he’d scribbled an address and a few figures. “It’s a bid to do background checks on potential employees. It needs to go out this afternoon. There’s stationery and envelopes in the supply cabinet.”
“Sure, I’ll get right on it.” She took the paper and walked over to the computer, aware of his eyes on her. She knew the combination of tight skirt and high heels drew attention to her figure but then, that was the idea, wasn’t it? No more blending into the background for her. And she couldn’t say she disliked the idea of Nick being attracted to her. After all, he was good-looking and apparently single—there were definitely sparks between them.
She sat and rolled her chair up to the desk. “Is there anything else?” she asked, deliberately keeping her voice low and sultry.
He blinked and she suppressed a smile. “Make a copy for the files while you’re at it,” he said.
She nodded. There weren’t many files so far. She’d checked. In fact, everything about the place indicated Nick hadn’t been in business long. “How long have you been a private eye?” she asked.
He frowned and she thought he was about to tell her to mind her own business. But he said, “A little over a year. Before that I was a cop.”
“In Denver?” She opened the word processing program on the computer.
“Houston.”
She thought she’d detected a bit of a Texas drawl. Very nice.
“As long as we’re asking questions, I’ve got one for you.”
Her stomach gave a nervous shimmy. Did he intend to interrogate her? She had nothing to hide. She looked up, meeting his gaze. He had amazing blue eyes, pale against his tan skin. “What would you like to know?”
“Your name. I’ve never known anyone called Lexie before.”
“It’s short for Alexandra. But no one calls me that, not even my mother.”
He nodded, apparently satisfied, and turned to go into his office. She wanted to ask him to stay, to talk a little longer. She’d like to get to know him better, but she supposed that would come in time. She hated to waste time these days. She had so much she wanted to accomplish, she was impatient to take care of one item on her list and move on to the next.
The letter was done in ten minutes and she took it in for his signature. He was on the phone when she entered, and signed without comment. So much for continuing their conversation.
The rest of the morning passed with agonizing slowness. She straightened magazines and watered the lone rubber tree in the corner of the office. With nothing else to do, she took out the Spanish textbook she’d recently purchased and began leafing through that. Tonight she started Spanish classes at Red Rocks Community College. Number seventeen on her list.
Shortly before noon, Nick emerged from the office and walked straight to her desk. Startled, she slammed the book shut and shoved it into a drawer. “Did you need something?” she asked.
“Do you have plans for lunch?”
“No.” She’d thought about walking to the fast-food place on the corner and bringing something back here. Maybe he’d like her to bring him something, too.
“Good. You can come with me. Seeing as it’s your first day, I thought I should buy you lunch.”
Not exactly an invitation to a hot date, but she’d take it. She took her purse from the desk drawer and stood. “That would be great.”
They went in his car—a Ford Explorer that had seen better days. He had to sweep out a litter of food wrappers and convenience-store coffee cups before she could climb into the passenger seat. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “One of the things about doing P.I. work is you tend to live out of your car.”
She fastened her seat belt, then picked up a key map and a telephone directory off the floor. “I guess you use these in your work.”
He nodded and stashed the books behind the front seat. “There’s a telephoto lens, binoculars and a cell phone charger down there somewhere, too.”
“Tools of the trade,” she said.
“That’s right.”
They headed south from the office on Colfax, past tattoo parlors, pawn shops and funky boutiques, to Vick’s, a six-table café wedged between a liquor store and a mini-mart. “It’s not fancy, but the food is good,” he said as he ushered her inside.
The first thing she noticed was all the cops—two sheriff’s deputies, three police officers and a man with a federal badge filled the tables. “Is this some kind of cop hangout?” she whispered as she slid into a chair across from Nick.
“Yeah. We know where all the great dives are.”
His grin startled her—all white teeth and a light in his eyes that stole her breath. She’d thought he was handsome before, but smiling, he was transformed. The word devastating came to mind.
The waitress arrived and they ordered from the menu that was written on a chalkboard posted on the back wall—a burger for Nick and a Greek salad for Lexie.
“Why did you decide to quit being a cop and become a P.I.?” she asked when they were alone again.
He picked up his fork and began turning it over in his hand. “It’s a long story.”
She spread her napkin in her lap and gave him an expectant look, saying nothing. She’d learned that if you kept silent long enough most people would say something to fill it.
He took a long drink of iced tea, then set it down with a loud thump. “You really want to know?”
She nodded.
“I was married. One day I came home and found all my stuff packed in boxes and suitcases in the front hall. My wife asked me to move out.” His voice was calm, but the lines around his eyes deepened and his knuckles whitened on the hand that held the glass.
“That’s pretty cold,” she said, trying for sympathy without pity.
“Yeah, well, she said she’d been trying to let me know how unhappy she was, but I was so wrapped up in work I hadn’t noticed, so she figured kicking me out was one way to make sure I got the message.”
Give the woman points for being direct. “What did you do?”
“I was stunned. I really hadn’t had a clue. I got a room at a cheap hotel and promised her I’d make things better. Since she seemed to think my job was part of the problem, I quit. I decided being my own boss offered more flexibility and better hours.”
Wow. He must have really wanted to save his marriage. She couldn’t imagine loving someone enough to make that kind of sacrifice. “But it didn’t work?”
He shook his head. “Nope. Turns out the problem wasn’t really my job—it was her boyfriend who’d lost his job and wanted to move in with her.”
She winced. “Ouch.”
The waitress delivered their order. The salad looked delicious. “Why didn’t you go back to your old job when things didn’t work out with your wife?”
He poured ketchup over his fries. “By then I kind of liked the P.I. business. No office politics, make your own hours. It was a good fit for me.”
“Okay, then why Denver?”
He shrugged. “I knew a few people up here. The climate’s good. It seemed like a good place to start over.”
She nodded. “I guess I can see why you wouldn’t want to stay in Houston.”
“Your turn. Why did you quit Culpepper and Piper and come to work for a one-man detective agency?”
She speared an olive on her fork and swiped it through a pool of dressing. “Kind of like you, I guess. I’m starting my life over.”
He paused, the burger halfway to his lips. “Divorce?”
“Another D word—death.”
He set down the burger and stared at her. “Run that one by me again?”
She laughed. “I didn’t really die, but almost. I lost control of my car on an icy road and went over an embankment. Apparently I was in a coma for a week. Then I was in rehab for almost six months. When I was finally well I promised myself I was going to live the kind of life I’d always wanted to live. Instead of dreaming about things I’d do ‘one day,’ I was going to do them now.”
“What kind of things?”
“Getting a different job, for one. A new wardrobe. Trying new things. I signed up for a Spanish class at Red Rocks. I want to go to Spain, and lots of other places. I want to learn gourmet cooking.”
“That’s a lot of stuff.”
“There’s more. I actually made a list of one hundred things I intend to do.”
“You wrote them down?”
She nodded. “I have them all in a red leather notebook in my purse.”
“You sound pretty determined.”
“Oh, I am.” Their eyes met, and she felt the electricity between them again. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this attracted to a man.
The fact that he was her boss made things a little complicated, but it wasn’t as if this was a big company where one or both of them could fall prey to office gossips or even legal entanglements. It was just the two of them, in the office together every day. Anything could happen with that kind of intimacy.
Was that good or bad? The old Lexie would have thought it was bad.
She smiled to herself and finished the last of her salad. Right now, she thought, maybe it was a very good thing indeed.
2
NICK LEANED BACK in his desk chair and admired the view through his open office door. Lexie was doing something with the fax machine, bent over at the waist with her back to him, presenting an enticing view of her rounded backside and long legs. Today she was wearing a black knit dress, belted at the waist, a black-and-white scarf knotted at her throat. She must collect scarves the way some women bought shoes. She’d worn a different one every day this week.
She bent farther over the fax and his eyes traced a line over the curve of her bottom, down her thighs. His fingers curled against his palm as he imagined stroking her there. He was getting a hard-on watching her like this; he felt like a cross between a horny teenager and a twisted voyeur. Every day when he left work he told himself he was going to go out and find a woman and let off some of this sexual steam. Unfortunately, no woman he’d seen lately turned him on the way the one working in his office did, which left him where he’d started—watching and wanting and not doing a damn thing about it.
He told himself he ought to close the door so he could get some work done, but he was enjoying himself too much at the moment.
Hiring Lexie was one of the best decisions he’d made in a long while. She was efficient and intelligent as well as good-looking and sexy. And she was good company, pleasant and easy to be around. He looked forward to coming to the office every morning, knowing he’d see her.
Of course, having her around did interfere with his work to a certain extent. His mind might be determined to focus on the job, but when Lexie was around his body invariably reminded him that he was a healthy man who’d been alone for a while now.
Much as he was tempted to start something with her, he knew it was a bad idea to mix business with pleasure. He’d settled on the unsatisfactory compromise of admiring her when she wasn’t looking, and keeping his distance otherwise.
He doubted she’d stay with him long anyway, not with all her talk about wanting more adventure in her life. He’d been like that himself once, when he’d first joined the police force. He’d gotten over that restlessness soon enough. Now he wanted to be settled somewhere, taking comfort in the everyday routine. He hoped Denver was going to be his home for a long time but it was too soon to tell.
The front door opened and a well-dressed man entered. Lexie greeted him with one of her hundred-watt smiles, leaving the man with a slightly dazed expression on his face. He followed her toward Nick’s office, clearly mesmerized.
Nick straightened and faked interest in the paperwork spread out on his desk. “Mr. Delaney, Mr. Wittier is here to see you.”
Stan Wittier, executive vice president of Carruthers Manufacturing, looked much less imposing in person than he’d sounded on the phone. When Nick stood to greet him, he noticed he was a good six inches taller than the executive, who was a slight man with thinning brown hair and worry lines across his forehead. “Please sit down, Mr. Wittier. Would you like some coffee?”
“Your secretary already offered, but it isn’t necessary.” He turned to watch Lexie leave, only facing Nick again when the door was closed. He looked disappointed to see her go. Nick didn’t blame him.
He sat at his desk again. “On the phone you indicated you wanted to see me because of concerns about your wife?”
Wittier nodded. “Yes. I believe she’s being unfaithful.”
“What makes you believe this?”
The frown lines deepened. “Ellen is a very beautiful woman, some years younger than myself. Lately I’ve had a sense that she’s restless and bored. In my experience that is a sure sign a woman is considering an affair.”
Nick found this an odd choice of words. “Considering, or involved?”
“By now I’m sure she’s involved. It’s a familiar pattern.” Wittier crossed his legs and leaned toward Nick. “I’ve seen it in my first wife and in the wives of my two business partners. Women reach a certain age and become dissatisfied with their lives. An affair seems to be the answer.”
The theory was new to Nick but maybe Wittier was on to something. Maybe the problem in Nick’s own marriage hadn’t been him or his job at all. Maybe his wife merely had reached “a certain age.” “And you want me to verify if your suspicions are true?”
“Yes.” Wittier straightened. “I want to find out now and divorce before too much damage is done to my reputation.”
“Of course.” Nick took out a notebook and pen, prepared to write down the particulars. He loathed these kind of cases, but accepted they were the bread and butter of the P.I. business. “You say your wife’s name is Ellen?”
“Yes. I’ve brought her picture, and a copy of her engagement calendar for the next month, as well as my own schedule.” Wittier took these items from his briefcase.
The man’s preparedness surprised Nick. “Have you had your wife followed before?”
“My first wife. As I told you, this is a familiar pattern to me.”
Wittier’s coldness repelled Nick but he didn’t have to like people to take their money. Sometimes the dislike even made it easier. “I’ll need a deposit. I work on a per diem for this sort of thing, plus any unusual expenses, such as travel. I’ll provide an itemized accounting to you. If your suspicions are true, it shouldn’t take more than a few days to confirm them.”
“I’m familiar with how this works and I’m prepared to write you a check today.”
