did, didn’t you? How, in all that’s logical, did you agree to that?”
“There’s more to it,” Margaret started, only to be cut off by her brother.
“Oh, yeah, sure there is. With men like him there always is. So what is it? Is he looking to pick up where you two left off back in February? Is that what it is?”
“Something like that. You can’t tell anyone, Jason. Promise me you won’t say a word of this to anyone.”
“Yeah, like I’m going to shout to the rooftops that my sister is sleeping with her boss to save my job?”
“I’m not sleeping with him! Might I remind you that I have you to thank for putting me in this position in the first place? He’s asked me to stand in as his fiancée, only for a short time while he sorts something out.”
“His what?”
Maggie was saved from further explanation by the interruption of their phone. She lifted the receiver and cradled it between her ear and shoulder as she dished up Jason’s scrambled eggs.
“Margaret, it’s William Tanner.”
She’d have recognized his voice anywhere. The tiny hairs on her arms and up the back of her neck prickled with awareness, her whole body tautening in response.
“Good morning,” she replied as coolly as she could. She reached across the table and put Jason’s plate in front of him before retreating to the living room.
“Look, I know it’s early, but I wanted to catch you before you went into the office and wasted yourself a trip.”
“Wasted a trip?”
Didn’t he want her anymore? While a part of her sagged with relief, another leaped into full alert. Did this mean that they were going to fire Jason anyway?
“I need you to meet me here at the Vista Del Mar Beach and Tennis Club. I’ll let them know at reception that I’m expecting you. How soon can you be here?”
Maggie knew that Rafe Cameron’s team of executives involved in the takeover were being put up in the guest accommodations at the club. Her friend, Sarah Richards, worked there in the main restaurant and had commented on the influx of long-stay guests. Maggie took a quick glance at the mantel clock her father had been given for thirty years’ service at Worth Industries. If she was quick getting ready, she could make it by eight-thirty, traffic permitting.
“By half past eight,” she said into the phone, mentally cataloging her wardrobe to decide on what to wear today.
“See if you can’t make it sooner.”
Before she could respond, she realized she was listening to the disconnect signal on the phone. “Right, sure thing, boss, anything you say,” she said as she hit the “off” button and took the phone back through to the kitchen.
“Problem?” Jason asked through a mouthful of egg.
“No. I just need to meet Mr. Tanner at the club this morning.”
“Maybe he wants to check out your forehand before you start working for him,” he commented snidely.
Maggie remained silent. She had no idea what he really wanted her for. It could be anything. Yet, strangely, the thought didn’t strike fear into her heart. Instead, there was a fine shimmer of anticipation. She clamped down on the feeling before it could take wings. Whatever she was to meet him for was not optional—she needed to remind herself of that. He had her between a rock and a hard place. What she wanted, what she really wanted, had no significance beyond keeping Jason out of prison.
Will straightened his tie before checking his Rolex. She was late. Not exactly the most auspicious start for their first day of work together. He crossed the sitting room of the self-contained beachfront suite that was his temporary home and waited out on the terrace overlooking the Pacific. Waves rolled in with steady force, pounding the sand of the perfectly groomed beach before sucking back and starting all over again. He smiled. Even here, he was reminded of his family. Relentless. Well, they’d have to take a step back when they found out about Margaret, that was for sure. Although it wouldn’t do for them to discover her too soon. If he was to suddenly produce a fiancée within a month of his last argument with his father it would only look suspicious.
A timid knock at the door barely caught his attention. Ah, she was finally here. He opened the door wide to admit her.
“Traffic bad?” he asked as she entered on his bidding.
“I’m sorry I’m late. Yes, some contractors hit a water main on my street just after you called. It was chaos getting out of there.”
She looked flustered, although for someone who’d probably missed her morning shower because of the issue with the water main she still managed to come across in her usual competent manner. Competent being the kindest way to describe the shapeless beige suit she wore today. He fought back a grimace.
“Is there something wrong?” she asked.
“No, nothing that can’t be rectified today, at least,” he responded.
Why did she dress in such awful clothing? he wondered. He’d caught a glimpse of her hourglass figure in the gown she’d worn at the ball, felt the lush fullness of her curves when he’d kissed her. Even now his hands itched to push away the serviceable fabric of her jacket and shape themselves to her form.
“What would you like me to do today?” she asked.
She stood perfectly straight and tall in her sensible pumps, awaiting his instruction. Will toyed with the idea of what would happen if he asked her to disrobe and burn the clothes she wore right now, but discarded it for the foolishness it was.
“As my executive assistant, and as my fiancée, there will be certain expectations.”
She blanched at his words. “Expectations. Right. Perhaps we’d better discuss those now.”
“Trying to call the shots, Margaret? That’s a little late, don’t you think?” he teased.
“I think you should know, there are some things I absolutely won’t do,” she answered with a defiant tilt of her chin.
“I’m sure there are,” he responded smoothly, deciding to err on the side of caution for now. “But I hope those things don’t include shopping.”
“Shopping? For you?”
“No. For you. I’m sure what you’re wearing was perfectly serviceable for your previous position but I expect a little more from my immediate staff. Besides, as my fiancée, people will certainly have something to say if you continue to dress in—” he gestured at her from shoulder to feet “—that.”
She stiffened at his words. “I have a very careful budget, Mr. Tanner. And I try to buy clothes that won’t date.”
Won’t date, he thought. How about won’t get past first base altogether.
“I don’t expect you to pay for these new items, Margaret. Consider them a fringe benefit. I have an image consultant coming to meet us shortly. Paige Adams—you
