rolls, the conversation became light and mundane. They talked about the building, about some of Ambercroft’s diverse holdings—nothing she didn’t already know from her research. But it was fun to listen to him talk, to watch his face brighten with pride. He really did love his company, and the many philanthropic endeavors they were involved in.
He even mentioned the gala Eva Price was chairing for the Pediatric AIDS League.
“Are you going?” She couldn’t stop enthusiasm from coloring her voice. How wonderful for Eva, to grab a contributor the likes of the Ambercroft family.
“I haven’t committed yet. Are you attending?”
“Um, yes,” she said, now hesitant and unsure why. “I’m sort of on the committee. I’ve done several with Eva, and it’s wonderful to be a part of such good work.”
“Then I’ll just have to find that invitation and RSVP, won’t I?”
Not sure how she was supposed to respond, she concentrated on the last of her fried rice. The food had been great, and she’d enjoyed talking to Philip, but Madalyn was ready for the evening to be over. It had been a long day, she was tired and she wanted to snuggle her baby for a few minutes before dropping into bed. She thought about telling Philip about Erin, but she didn’t want to start another long conversation.
Philip surprised her when he began clearing the desk.
“I can do that,” she said, preparing to help.
“No. You shut down the computer and get your things. It’s time for the birthday girl to open her fortune cookie and then go home.”
Dutifully cracking the treat, she opened the little slip of paper and immediately laughed.
“Come on, don’t keep me in suspense.”
“It says, ‘A new job awaits you.”’
“You’re joshing me.”
She handed over the fortune, and he laughed with her. “Well, I’m wondering about mine, then. It says, ‘You are next in line for a promotion.”’
She cocked her head. “Can the boss get a promotion?”
“Beats me. But I’ll be sure to bring this to my next board of directors meeting.”
With another round of laughter, they were ready to call it a night. In no time, they were in the elevator and headed for the parking garage. Philip had been so polite the entire evening, it didn’t surprise her when he took the keys from her and opened her car door. Still, she stood there, trying to display the proper amount of righteous, feminist indignation. The problem was, he’d moved so confidently, with such arrogant smoothness, she forgot what she was supposed to do. All she could concentrate on was how close he was, how alone they were, how soft his lips looked. The awkwardness seemed to have vanished, and for the merest second, it seemed he was bending closer to her and she gasped. Yes, she wanted to kiss him, wanted to see if he was everything her imagination promised—
Reality snapped back into place and they both jerked away at the same time. Humiliation burned her face and she fussed with her purse strap so she didn’t have to look him in the eye. Maybe she could find a way to blame this on fatigue....
Wishing she could melt into the pavement, she managed to get in the car and strap her seat belt on.
“Good night, Madalyn,” he said, shutting her door for her. “Sleep in tomorrow. You deserve it.”
She wished she knew what he was thinking. Even more, she wished she could hide her feelings and thoughts as well as he could. She could only imagine the shade of red on her cheeks.
“Good night. And thank you again for dinner.”
He nodded and stepped back so she could pull away, waiting until she’d disappeared from sight before going back to the elevator.
What the hell was wrong with him? When he’d called in dinner, he’d admitted it was a little unusual, but in his wildest dreams he’d never imagined that his secretary would turn him into a jabberjaw. He never talked about his childhood, and he never, ever talked about it with a stranger. But she’d tossed his questions back to him, and he’d responded, the words coming out of his mouth of their own volition.
Which was a huge sign that he needed to stay away from this woman in anything resembling a personal conversation. If she could turn what he had formerly considered his iron-clad control to mush this effortlessly, heaven forbid if she ever asked any really private questions. He’d probably rattle off his Swiss bank-account numbers.
Then his behavior by her car. He was sure he was certifiable after that move. But she’d been so close, and the faint trace of her perfume had made him forget who he was, who she was. All that he’d been thinking at that moment was that he wanted to kiss her, taste her, see if she was as perfect as she appeared.
Thankfully something had snapped him back. Now he had to make sure that this incident was never reprised.
He just hadn’t expected to like her so much. He wasn’t sure why, except maybe that while he had an extreme respect for Mrs. Montague, he’d never taken her or any other secretary out for a private dinner... although, technically, this dinner had been “in” not “out.” Anniversaries and other special occasions were noted with bonuses and gift certificates for Mrs. Montague to enjoy with her family. It was a pattern that made them both comfortable.
But Madalyn had him thinking about sex—hot, hard, driving sex, and then slow, long and languorous sex—and all within hours of meeting her. It wasn’t anything she’d done. Not one movement, not one look, not one word had been suggestive or inappropriate.
It was something primal that called to him past her proper demeanor. Then she’d unknowingly pricked his conscience when they’d spoken about the Price gala, and he’d felt himself withdrawing.
What had Sir Walter Scott said? “Oh, what a tangled web we weave...”
Suddenly he wasn’t so sure working with her was such a good idea after all. Even if it meant not capturing Price Manufacturing, he decided having her so near was too risky. She messed with his equilibrium and he couldn’t afford that; he wouldn’t take that risk.
He had too much to do to be dealing with distractions by his own staff. Especially this kind of distraction. The best thing to do would be to cut his losses and get another temp. What was one more anyway, the way things had been going?
Feeling a pang of regret, he decided he’d have to break the news to her tomorrow.
Chapter Three
Madalyn was surprised to find Philip wasn’t there when she arrived the next morning. A veteran early riser, especially now that she was a single mother, she hadn’t taken him up on his offer to sleep in. She couldn’t have, even if she’d wanted to. Erin’s idea of sleeping in was letting the sun actually peek over the horizon.
She wasn’t surprised, though, to see a stack of work neatly aligned on the corner of the desk. From the looks of it, he hadn’t taken his own counsel to go home. He had to have been there past midnight to have gotten so much done.
She was grateful, though. On the drive in, she’d berated
