style="font-size:15px;"> Katie held her cheeks. “Of course! While I was getting my hair done at Silvo’s last week, I skimmed an article about that site’s meteoric rise. Interesting stuff. The color shots of the CEO were even better. The article ended by saying he might pose nude for a calendar to support a charity he’s behind.”
Arranging a choice of table gifts for her soon-to-arrive client, Scarlet refused to acknowledge the heat flaring in her chest … at the tips of her breasts. But she couldn’t shake the image of Daniel McNeal sans clothes. Below his folded cuffs, his forearms were strong and brushed with a healthy tan. The exposed vee below the solid column of his neck had revealed a tantalizing hint of the hair and hot flesh that lay beneath. Jeans suited his rebel-with-a-cause air. She wouldn’t—shouldn’t—imagine how delicious he’d look out of them.
“What was he doing here?” Katie was asking.
Dismissing the tug low at her core, Scarlet positioned a floral arrangement on the table. “Wouldn’t you assume he was here about a wedding?”
“Sure, but not his.”
“Because there’s been no public announcement?”
“Because if he was going to take the plunge, make the big merger, he wouldn’t have looked at you the way he did.”
Darting a glance toward the door, Scarlet lowered her voice. “Do you want someone to hear?”
When Katie reached for a jelly bean from her glass bowl stash at the table’s end, Scarlet reminded her, “Not the pink ones.”
Popping a white and a green, Katie mumbled and chewed. “Know what you need?”
Scarlet took the pink bean lying on top. “I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”
“You need to forget yourself and all the obligations—real and imagined—hanging around your neck, even for a week. It’d only take that long.”
“That long to do what?”
“To realize that there’s more to life than what’s expected. Or that what you’ve been raised to believe won’t necessarily make you happy. And that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” Katie crossed her heart to seal the deal before she asked, “Ariella’s not around?”
“She’s working from home today.”
“First that huge ‘the president’s your dad’ announcement, then weeks of the media sticking their big fat noses in her business … Far as I’m concerned, Ariella’s a rock. I’d be an agoraphobic mess by now.”
“It must be tough.” Slipping the jelly bean between her lips, Scarlet chewed thoughtfully. “Way worse than tough.”
“Wonder when the DNA tests will be back.”
“Soon now, I imagine.”
On the samples table, Scarlet’s smartphone buzzed. She opened the text. Her friend’s ears must have been burning.
Need 2 see u, Ariella’s message read. Test results just in.
Two
Morgan Tibbs swung her attention from the pages of Time to her boss when he strode into the penthouse suite. As Daniel continued on to the room that served as his office whenever they were here in D.C., which was often enough to warrant a long-term lease on this and another suite as well as an on-site vehicle, his executive personal assistant tracked his progress.
“You said you’d be out the rest of the day,” Morgan said.
“Come in here for a moment, will you?”
He was standing by the wall-to-wall windows, which overlooked Connecticut Avenue and, in the distance, the Washington Monument obelisk when Morgan entered the room. She pretended to shudder.
“Wow. Am I seeing right? You look stressed?”
“I met a woman today.”
Morgan waited.
“And?”
“There’s something different about her.”
His assistant with the attitude clutched at her heart. “I didn’t think it would ever happen. I told you we weren’t interchangeable.”
“I’ve never said that. Particularly not about you.”
“Me aside, let’s face it. You might be Einstein where IT is concerned but you’re a freshman as far as intimate relationships go. Four weeks seems about your limit.”
“If something’s not working, why drag it out?”
“He says, leaving behind a string of women with bittersweet stars in their eyes.”
Daniel faced her. “But you’ve never had stars in your eyes where I’m concerned, have you, Morgan?” He headed for his desk. “At the risk of sounding full of myself, why not?”
Daniel guessed Morgan’s ancestry lay in the East. Her hair was gleaming and straight, like a sheet of darkest silk. She was petite with dainty hands, a round face and an impressive IQ that gave his own impressive score a run for its money. She also possessed a telepathic ability to predict his needs precisely, which was the reason she accompanied him everywhere. Rarely was she taken aback. Now, however, genuine shock widened her almond-shaped eyes.
“You’re my boss,” she said. “Being attracted to you would never enter my head.”
“Same here.”
“Because of that extra ear in the middle of my forehead, right?”
“All I’m saying is a man knows when there’s a mutual connection. He feels that spark. The simmer of primal heat.”
She knitted her fine, dark eyebrows together. “Maybe you should talk to a boy buddy about this.”
“No. I need a female’s take.”
Pushing out a breath, she crossed over to him, her designer combat trousers rustling as she took a seat. “So, you met a woman.”
“I asked her out to dinner. She declined.”
Morgan grinned. “I’ll put out a press release.”
“She wanted to say yes, but something held her back. She was trying her best to be cool about it. Dismissive. But I’m not mistaken. Those sparks were firing.”
He recalled the way Scarlet Anders had looked at him, almost fearful but hungry, too. What was the problem? She didn’t like his cologne?
“My best guess,” Morgan said, “is that she’s either seeing a guy or getting over one.”
“Attached or burned … I see.” He absorbed the opinion, then went on. “I have her number. Business number at least.” He drummed his fingers on the desk, made a decision, then reached for the phone. “I’ll call
