ruthlessly ignored the feel of her in his arms. He wasn’t willing to risk that she might regret it in the morning.
“You’re tired. You’re vulnerable. And we haven’t thought this through. We turn that corner,” he continued, “we can’t turn back.”
“I know,” she acknowledged in a soft voice.
He leaned around her, placing a lingering kiss on her temple. “I’ll see you at the office?”
“Sure.”
He forced himself to let go of her. Then, using every ounce of his strength and determination, he stood up and walked away.
By 7:00 a.m., Sinclair was in her office.
After Hunter left last night, she’d lain awake, remembering his soft voice, his easy conversation, and the massage that had all but melted her muscles. She would have willingly made love with him. But, he was right. They hadn’t thought it through. It was hard enough ignoring what had happened six weeks ago, never mind rekindling all those memories.
Hunter was a thoughtful man. He was also an intelligent man, and she’d spent some time going over his professional advice. He saw Chantal as her competition. And he saw Roger in Chantal’s corner. Sinclair realized she had to do this, and she had to do it right. It was time to stop fooling around.
So, she’d arrived this morning with a plan to do just that. She submitted an electronic leave form, rescheduled her meetings, plastered her active files with Post-its for Amber, and left out-of-office messages on both her voice mail and e-mail.
She was working her way through the mail in her in-basket when Roger walked in.
“What’s this?” he asked, dropping the leave form printout on her desk.
“I’m going on vacation,” she answered cheerfully, tossing another piece of junk mail in the wastepaper basket.
“Why? Where?”
“Because I haven’t taken a vacation in eight years. Because I’m entitled to vacation time just like everybody else. And because I’m not currently needed on the Valentine’s Day ball file.”
“Of course you’re needed on the file.”
“To do what?”
Roger waved his arms. “To make plans. To order things.”
“Plans are made. Things are ordered.” She rose from her chair and smiled at him. “You’ll be fine, Roger. You’ve got Chantal on the case. She can oversee things.”
“But, where are you going?”
“Chapter Three, Section Twelve of the employee manual. Employees shall not be required to disclose nor justify their vacation plans. All efforts will be made to ensure employees are able to take leave during the time period of their choosing. And leave shall not be unreasonably withheld.”
“She’s right,” came Hunter’s voice from the doorway.
Roger looked from Hunter to Sinclair and back again. “You knew about this?”
“Hadn’t a clue.” Hunter looked to Sinclair. “Taking a vacation?”
“I am.”
“Good for you. A refreshed employee is a productive employee.”
“I plan to be refreshed,” she said.
Hunter smirked. “I’m looking forward to that.”
“I’ve left notes for Amber,” Sinclair said to Roger. “The meetings with the Roosevelt Hotel have been rescheduled. Unless Chantal wants to take them. You could ask her. The florist order is nailed down. The music … Well, there’s a little problem with the band, but I’m sure Chantal or Amber can handle it.”
She dropped the last piece of mail in the waste basket and glanced around the room. “I think that about covers it.”
“This is unexpected,” said Roger through clenched teeth.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” asked Hunter.
“My office?” Roger responded.
“I meant Sinclair,” said Hunter, stepping aside from the open door.
Roger frowned.
Sinclair should have cared about his annoyance, and she should have been bothered by the fact that the CEO had just dismissed the president in order to talk to her. But she truly didn’t care. She had things to do, places to go, beauticians to meet.
Roger stalked out of the office, and Hunter closed the door behind him.
“Career-wise,” said Sinclair. “And by that, I mean my career. I’m not sure that was the best move.”
“You’re taking some time for the makeover?” asked Hunter.
She straightened a stack of reports and lifted them from her desktop. “You’re right that Lush Beauty Products is going through a huge transition. And you’re right I should thwart Roger by getting a makeover. And, honestly, I believe Roger and Chantal need some time alone to get to know one another.”
Hunter grinned, obviously understanding her Machiavellian motives.
“I’m a goal-oriented woman, Hunter. Give me a week, and I can accomplish this.”
“I’m sure you can. Any interest in accomplishing it in Paris?”
She squinted. She didn’t understand the question.
“I had an idea,” he said. He paused, obviously for effect. “The Castlebay Spa chain. It’s a very exclusive, European boutique spa chain, headquartered in Paris.”
She got his point and excitement shimmered through her. “We’re going to try again?”
“Oslands don’t quit.”
Enthusiasm gathered in her chest at the thought of another shot at a spa. She squared her shoulders. “Neither do Mahoneys.”
“Good to hear. Because that platinum card I gave you works in Paris.”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “You don’t need me to do the spa deal, and I don’t need to go to Paris. I’ve got things to do in New York.”
He took her hand. “I want you in on the spa deal. And Paris is the makeover capital of the world.”
“Paris is definitely overkill.” She didn’t need to cross an ocean to get a haircut and buy dresses. Plus, in Paris, she’d be with Hunter. And there was the ever present danger of sleeping together. Since they’d so logically decided against it last night, it seemed rather cavalier to take off to Paris together.
“Do I need reinforcements? I could call your sister. She’ll back me up.”
“Don’t
