dealt with the scum of the earth—street-corner drug dealers who would peddle their wares to anyone, even children—and he hadn’t let his true feelings show. On the contrary, he’d done everything in his power to convince them he was one of them.
But in a mere matter of seconds he had let Ruby O’Toole wriggle under his skin. Even worse, he’d let his aversion to her get in the way of the job he had to do.
No matter what his feelings for her, he had to heal the breach between them. He had to make something good come out of their enforced togetherness.
Because auctions were held every Saturday, employees at the Merrill Auction Gallery had Sunday and Monday off. That gave Antonio two days to come up with a plan. Starting first thing Tuesday morning, he would try to get to know Ruby, to gain her trust. She was an important link in the chain comprising Joseph Merrill’s business dealings, a link he couldn’t afford to overlook.
She had been right about one thing, he thought, as he gathered up his belongings: for at least three days next week they would be working very closely together. Four days, if you included travel time. Four days in Ruby O’Toole’s company was bound to test his patience, not to mention his resolve. It might very well drive him mad.
For his sanity’s sake, he hoped she left that intoxicating perfume at home.
Even though Ruby was not the type to carry her luggage to the curb, on Tuesday morning Laura made certain she was waiting there a full ten minutes before Michael Corsi’s expected arrival. The last thing she wanted was for him to come knocking on her apartment door. Though the sparsely furnished rooms suited Laura just fine, they lacked the frills and finishing touches that would undoubtedly grace any dwelling where Ruby resided.
As a precaution only, Laura thought it best not to raise any further questions in Michael’s mind. The man had already proven that he was no slouch when it came to his powers of observation.
Promptly at eight o’clock, a gold, late-model Chevrolet Silverado pulled to the curb. After countless spine-numbing rides in the ancient pickup her brother had owned when they were teenagers, she was pleasantly surprised to find that Michael Corsi’s vehicle looked quite comfortable. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, the engine practically purred. There wasn’t a hanging muffler or a worn-out spring in sight.
Laura met his gaze through the windshield. Just the sight of his handsome face made her heart flip-flop. She couldn’t even comfort her guilty conscience by arguing that he reminded her of her late husband. Michael Corsi was nothing like Jacob, in either looks or manner. Still, good guy or not, and whether she wanted to or not, something deep inside her couldn’t help responding whenever she saw him.
And she was going to be stuck in close quarters with him for the next four days. How would she ever cope?
She wasn’t deluded about the real reason Joseph had sent her and Michael away together. Yes, the Bickham estate needed valued, and valued soon. But it also gave Joseph the perfect opportunity to force her to spend time alone with Michael.
It wasn’t going to be as easy as Joseph expected. If the expression she’d glimpsed in Michael’s eyes on Saturday, and the way he’d deliberately goaded her, were anything to go by, active dislike was the predominant emotion Ruby stirred in him.
Laura was honest enough to admit that her behavior definitely had something to do with that reaction. She had gone a bit overboard in her flirtation with him. A bystander might even be compelled to say that she’d come on entirely too strong. It had been a self-defense mechanism, a way to protect herself—exactly what Michael himself had said she was doing. But from what did she need protection? He was certainly no danger to her.
Worse than the way she’d come on to Michael, however, was the manner in which she had done it. She’d hardly been discreet. It had been pure luck that few people had been around at the time, and that no one had seemed to notice, not even Joseph, although she couldn’t be sure about Matthew.
She had to find a way to make peace with Michael. The next few days would be excruciating if they were constantly at each other’s throats.
Besides, alienating him the way she had wouldn’t get her job done. It wouldn’t get her closer to any secrets he might have, such as his real involvement with Joseph. Like it or not, the job had to come first, and her personal feelings last.
To that end, she was determined to be civil to him, no matter how great the provocation. She wouldn’t let him get to her the way he had on Saturday. She wouldn’t make any more stupid mistakes. She would calmly, coolly and rationally do the work that both Joseph and the police department expected her to do.
A soft click announced the opening of the driver’s side door. Seconds later the man who had occupied far too many of her thoughts over the past three days was standing before her.
One foot still in the street, Michael balanced the other on the curb. Leaning forward slightly, he squinted at her in the bright sunlight while he slid his right hand into his pants pocket and draped his left arm negligently across a parking meter.
He really had no business standing that way, Laura decided, as she shielded her eyes from the sun and tried to ignore the way her pulse leaped. It was too provocative by far. The material of his faded blue jeans strained against his muscled thighs in a way that drew her eyes upward to an area they had no business being drawn to.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, once she’d torn her gaze away from the danger zone, she found herself entranced by the way his navy-blue T-shirt hugged an impressive chest, muscular biceps and trim waist. The force of Michael Corsi’s masculinity practically shimmered like a wave of heat on the air. If it had been a virus, no female over the age of consent would have been immune.
Laura had always reveled in her sexuality while Jacob was alive. Since his death she had submerged that part of her nature. Obviously, in Michael Corsi’s presence, it was trying to resurface. Whether she wanted it to or not.
She’d lost her husband and her child. Much as she had wished they would, her feelings and emotions hadn’t died along with them. She was a woman, and she possessed all the requisite feminine responses. While she might not be ready to resume that part of her life, she shouldn’t beat herself up over a normal, healthy, human reaction.
The way Michael Corsi made her feel was a nuisance, like a nosebleed or the hiccups. The good news was, she knew how to handle such nuisances. If she ignored the unwanted emotions he aroused in her, they’d simply go away.
“You’re on time,” he drawled, by way of greeting.
His eyes were hooded, hiding his expression from her. The neutral tone of his voice gave nothing away.
“You’re on time,” she replied. “Why shouldn’t I be?”
“No reason, except…”
The way he let his words trail off told her he hadn’t been about to pay her a compliment. Here they went again. So much for her effort at civility.
“Except what?” she couldn’t help asking.
He shrugged. “You’re that kind of woman.”
“The habitually late kind?”
“No,” he replied evenly. “The high-maintenance kind. In my experience, they’re rarely on time.”
She had no business being
