Deception. Donna Hill

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Deception - Donna Hill Mills & Boon Kimani Arabesque

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Western movie. “I cain’t guarantee your honor, m’am, if’n I stay.”

      Terri released a shaky laugh and stood up in front of him. She slipped her arms around his waist, looking up into his eyes.

      “Then I’d say you’d better mosey on outta here, mister,” she teased, matching his parody.

      He held her for a long moment, burying his face in her hair, his confusion complete. Then he released her.

      “I’ll get your coat,” she offered.

      At the doorway Terri felt ridiculously like a teenager on her first date. Her nerves rattled, and her heart was pounding so loud she just knew Clint could hear every beat.

      “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said.

      “I’d like that.”

      Clint leaned down and brushed her lips. The contact was too brief and he wanted more. Pulling her into his arms he kissed her fully, her own desire matching his every rhythm.

      He eased away. “I’ve got to go,” he said, his voice thick with desire. He started to leave, then turned back. “You’ll be happy to know that I’ve found another advertising agency to do the work. So now there’s no more business to interfere.” His dark eyes bored into hers. “This is purely personal. The rest is up to you.” He turned away, never looking back to see the expression of astonished relief spread across her face.

      As if on a cloud, Terri glided back into the living room, a smile of contentment lighting her face as she replayed his final words. This is purely personal.

      She changed the CD, replacing Miles Davis with Kenny G. Crossing the living room, she walked down the narrow hallway to the bathroom. Mechanically she turned on the tub water, adding her favorite bubble bath. Soon the herbal aroma filled the room, and her weary body nearly screamed for relief. Piece by piece she stripped out of her clothes and stepped into the steamy water.

      Terri sank into the tub, the bubbles coming up to her chin. She closed her eyes, letting the steam envelop her, and a picture of Clint sprang to life before her eyes—and she trembled.

      His mouth seemed to caress every part of her body, kneading all of the aches away. A soft moan of remembrance filtered through her lips, and she silently wished that he was there with her.

      She felt the slow, steady warming that spread through her body and knew that it had nothing to do with the steaming water. And she wondered what it would have been like making love with Clint. How soon, if ever, would she know?

      After a fantasy-filled half hour, Terri finally curled up into bed, sinking into the comfort of the freshly washed sheets. She reached for the book of poetry she kept by her nightstand, determined to ease away the last vestiges of tension and images of Clint.

      Just as she was about to drift off to sleep, the ringing of the phone jarred her back to consciousness.

      Annoyance replaced curiosity as she drowsily reached for the intrusive instrument.

      “Hello?” she mumbled.

      “Terri, it’s me, Lisa.”

      “Lisa,” she groaned. “It’s late.”

      “I know. But I got the info you wanted. I thought you’d be interested.”

      Terri sat straight up in her bed. Please let it be good.

      “Your Mr. Steele is, anonymously, one of the biggest individual benefactors that the Gateway Foundation has.”

      Chapter 5

      The morning sun was barely up in the sky when Clint rose from his bed. He’d spent a torturous night, reliving what almost was. More times than he cared to count he’d reached for the phone to dial Terri’s number. Each time, halfway through dialing, he’d hung up. The next move was Terri’s. He’d put his cards on the table.

      Pulling on a terry-cloth robe he padded across the bedroom and opened his dresser drawer. Rifling through his possessions, he pulled out a cutoff T-shirt and an old pair of shorts. Crossing to the closet, he selected a navy blue sweat suit and a pair of sneakers. Usually a brisk run around the park revitalized him and cleared his head.

      An hour later he lay sprawled across his king-size bed, drenched in perspiration from his morning jog. His frustration was still alive and well.

      Staring up at the stucco ceiling, his hands clasped behind his head, a slow smile of acceptance spread across his face. Terri was under his skin to stay, and no amount of jogging was going to change it.

      Terri strode down the office corridor, looking neither left nor right. How could she have been so narrow-minded and gullible to be taken in by rumors and speculation? She should have gone along with her instincts in the first place. She smiled ruefully. There was no way that her senses could have been that far off base if they went into crisis every time she thought of Clint.

      She closed her office door with a thud, tossing her briefcase on the desk, her coat shortly behind.

      Her head ached from the hours of reading she had done after Lisa’s call. She’d forced herself to go through as many of the reports that she’d gotten from the library as she could before she’d fallen asleep. That, compounded with the company ledgers, was enough to keep her head spinning for weeks. But she had work to do, and it would begin with a process of elimination.

      She reached for the phone and dialed Stacy’s extension.

      Stacy picked up on the second ring.

      “Stacy Williams, here.”

      “Stacy, I need you in my office in an hour. In the meantime I want you to pull the accounting records for the past six months and compare them to the figures we came up with last night.”

      “Sure. Anything else?”

      “The sooner the better. I want to get that SOB out of here as soon as possible.”

      “I’ll get right on it.”

      “Thanks.”

      Terri hung up the phone, then proceeded to unlock the file cabinet, retrieving the files that she had examined the previous night. The pages in front of her seemed to laugh at her naïveté.

      She shook her head in disbelief. Powers, Inc., was on the brink of deep financial trouble, and she had let it happen. Her trusting nature had overruled her business judgment, and it had cost her dearly. For the past year she’d felt like a failure as a wife and then as a mother. All she had left was her business, and now even that was threatened.

      No more.

      She quickly crossed the office and went out into the small reception area. Andrea was just taking her seat.

      “Good morning, Ms. Powers,” she greeted cheerfully, then changed her tone when she saw the thunderclouds raging in Terri’s dark eyes. “Is something wrong?”

      “Not for long,” she responded. “I need you to get Al Pierce, the accountant, on the phone. Tell him to stop whatever he’s doing. I want him here within the hour,

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