as she moved toward his desk.
“We’re all important here. It’s how we run the place. Every Nissequot has a crucial role to play and would be missed as much if not more than me. The cashiers will be hustling today, as we’re expecting twenty buses of retirees visiting from Cape Cod this morning.”
“Oh.” Her brow wrinkled slightly as she reached for the pile of folders she’d pulled the day before. She bumped her elbow on a jar of pens, accidentally scattering them across the desk. He grabbed one just before it flew over the edge.
Their fingertips brushed as he handed it back to her. Her hand flinched away as though she’d been stung. Somehow that only increased the tension snapping in the air.
He shouldn’t have kissed her. She was here on business and was obviously very reserved and proper. She wasn’t looking to get her hands on him.
Quite the opposite.
Was that why he’d been irresistibly drawn to her? Was it the challenge of the seemingly unobtainable? There was something more, though. An energy that drew him to her. Something deep and primal. And when she’d folded into his arms and melted into the kiss...
John turned his attention to the filing cabinet with the receipts she wanted. Something had happened between them and he didn’t know why. Unplanned and inappropriate, it had stirred his blood and left him wanting more.
Just get rid of her as quickly as possible. His uncle’s words simmered in his brain. Sensible advice, under the circumstances. The way her movements snapped with precision and anxiety right now—fingers tapping on her keyboard and eyes darting across the rows of numbers on the papers she’d pulled from the files—she was rushing to get out of here.
So it was all good, right?
John frowned. Was he really the player the Massachusetts press made him out to be? Maybe he was. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.” The innuendo wasn’t entirely intentional, but he enjoyed her hot-under-the-collar reaction. Shifting in her chair and fussing with her bag, she seemed tense enough to burst into flames.
He’d be happy to help put out the fire. “The food should be here any minute, but maybe I’d better get you some water right now.”
“Just some peace and quiet will be fine, please,” she muttered, without looking up. She pushed her glasses up on her nose with a fingertip. He noticed she wasn’t wearing nail polish.
A smile sneaked across his mouth. He liked that she wasn’t afraid to be rude. A lot of people were intimidated by him, especially now that the millions were rolling in. It was refreshing to find someone who treated him as though he was a regular guy. “I’ll make myself scarce.”
“Good.” She still didn’t look up.
He chuckled as he removed himself from his own office. He could still taste that kiss on his lips. Constance had a surprising well of passion beneath her prim exterior, and he looked forward to tapping it again—whether or not that was a good idea.
* * *
Constance couldn’t wait to get her car back. Right now, sitting in the grand lobby of the hotel, she felt like a prisoner in John’s luxurious den of vice. Dressed in a silky garment she’d never have chosen, surrounded by people laughing and talking too loud and drinking before it was even lunchtime, she felt totally out of her element.
Maybe her family was right and she should have tried to refuse this job. On the other hand, building a career depended on taking assignments that would enhance her profile in the company, and a contract from a big government agency was a feather in her cap. Luckily New Dawn’s files were well organized and the information straightforward, so she’d probably get her work done and be out of here within a week.
She heard her phone chime and fished it out of her bag. The display revealed that it was Nicola Moore, her contact at the Bureau of Indian Affairs.
“Hello, Nicola. I’m sitting in the lobby of the casino right now.” She glanced about, hoping the woman wouldn’t ask a lot of probing questions that would be embarrassing to answer right here.
“Excellent. Are they allowing you access to the books?”
“Oh yes, Mr. Fairweather—” even saying his name made her blush “—has given me carte blanche to go through all the files in his office. He has the original cash register receipts for every day since the casino opened.”
“Do they seem legitimate?”
“The receipts?” She glanced around, hoping no one could overhear their conversation. “They do. So far everything looks good.”
There was a pause at the other end. “They think it’s a routine audit, but the reason we sent you is that we have good reason to suspect fraud. They may be giving you falsified documents.”
Constance bristled. “I have considerable experience in examining retail operations. I know the warning signs, and rest assured I will closely examine anything that looks at all suspicious.”
“John Fairweather has a reputation for charming everyone. Don’t be fooled by his suave manner—he’s a very sharp and cunning businessman.”
Constance fumbled and almost dropped her phone. Could Nicola Moore somehow know that John had...seduced her last night? Impossible, surely! “I’m aware of his reputation,” she whispered. Where was he? She felt as if he was going to materialize beside her at any minute. “I am completely immune to charm and focused entirely on the numbers.” At least she certainly planned to boost her immunity to his charms from now on. That kiss last night had caught her completely by surprise, when she was overwrought and exhausted and emotional from the evening’s turmoil.
“Excellent. I look forward to hearing an interim report. The New Dawn has attracted a lot of negative attention since it opened. You may have read some of the commentary in the press. We’ve been hearing plenty of whispers about their operation. No one can figure out how they managed to open without taking on massive debt, or how they’re operating with such impressive profits. It doesn’t match the other models we’ve seen. Frankly, we’re assuming that something untoward is going on. Those numbers just can’t be real.”
Constance frowned. She didn’t like that Ms. Moore already assumed a crime was in progress. She’d been surprised by the negative slant of some newspaper articles she’d read about the Nissequot and the New Dawn, too. John and the tribe seemed to attract the kind of backbiting usually reserved for successful celebrities. So far she hadn’t seen any evidence of wrongdoing at all. Of course it was only her second day, but still.... John seemed to be a concerned and thorough businessman and she was beginning to get annoyed by the relentless negativity about his success.
Not that she had any interest at all in defending him, of course. That would be highly unprofessional. She prided herself on complete objectivity. But maybe everyone should be a bit more open-minded about the New Dawn’s management.
She tensed as she saw John striding across the lobby toward her. You’d think an expensive suit would conceal the raw masculinity of his body, but it didn’t. Something about the way he moved made her pulse quicken and her brain start scrambling. Ridiculous! She was far above this kind of girlish reaction. She muttered quickly into the phone that she’d report back as soon as she found anything. Guilt made her fingers tremble as she ended the call.
She
