to him, but he knew the figure would seem outrageously high to her. Thrusting the paper at her, he leaned back and watched with boyish anticipation as her expression changed from frustration to shock.
“Lord Smythe!”
“Matt.”
She sighed, her eyes softly appealing, as if she hoped he would understand her reticence without demanding further explanation.
“Bloody hell,” he muttered. He understood all right. She wanted success without risk. And even then, she was scared she might get what she wished for. Abigail, he thought, you need a healthy shove off your safe little lily pad. And he needed someone like her to continue bringing business his way. Competitors like Joseph Cooper Imports had been breathing down his neck for years. Whatever he had to do to hold them at bay, he’d do.
He wrote one final figure on a fourth scrap. “Last offer,” he said tightly. “Don’t answer me now. Sleep on it.”
She started to speak, but he placed a finger over her lips, silencing them.
“Discuss the offer with your roommate, your parents, your priest—I don’t care who. Call me tomorrow with your answer. If you really want to own your own store, or even a chain of stores someday, you’ll take a chance with me.” She was staring incredulously at the number he’d written. “Look at it this way, the worst that can happen is, I’ll work you harder than you’ve ever worked before. But you’ll have your start-up cash four times faster under my employ than with anyone else. And you’ll know the business inside out.”
The car stopped. The driver came around to open the door. Abby clambered out, a fistful of paper scraps clutched in one hand, her purse and sack of leftovers in the other. She was staring at him in puzzlement, as if hoping, in these last few seconds, she’d discover the ruse he was playing on her.
“No hidden agendas, Ms. Benton. I need smart, dedicated people around me, and I think you’re one of that breed.” He looked at her sharply, making sure she understood he was serious. “Call me. It’s your future.”
Matt flipped a hand at the driver, who closed the door between them. A smile crept outward along his lips. Well, he’d been mostly honest with her. Still, it was a tempting concept—their sleeping together. Very tempting.
As the limo started moving again, he let the thought go. Just let it drift free, like a kite after the string breaks—only he had intentionally cut the cord. If she agreed to work for him, he couldn’t afford to turn her into a mistress. She would be too valuable to him in other ways. And, above all, he was a businessman.
Abby slept not at all that night. It wasn’t until a thin, rosy dawn broke that she dropped off into an uneasy slumber. She heard the alarm and smacked the snooze button once, twice, then tossed the horrid thing against the wall and collapsed, scrunching her pillow down over her head. She didn’t care what time it was, she needed some real sleep.
“So, how’d it go last night?” a too-chipper voice penetrated the layer of fluff.
Abby tentatively peeked out. It was Dee, bless her cold heart, standing in the bedroom doorway, sipping her morning java from a stoneware mug.
“Leave me alone.”
“It’s Saturday. You have to be down at the store by nine, don’t you?”
“Oh God, yes. I wasn’t even thinking.” Abby flung the pillow aside and pressed her fingertips to her temples, squinting into the morning light.
“That bad, huh?” Dee guessed. “Boring people, bad food and the boss-man made a pass at you, poor baby.”
“Not quite.” Abby sat up in bed. “Fascinating people, the best food I’ve ever eaten and Smythe offered me a job that pays four times what I’m making now.”
“Bummer.” Dee’s eyes twinkled mischievously.
“Knock it off. This isn’t funny.”
“So, who’s laughing? Sounds like you walked into a dream. Why are you looking like a stressed-out ostrich instead of jumping for joy on the bed?”
Abby rolled her eyes, at a loss for words to explain her tangled emotions. “Because I don’t trust him. And I don’t trust myself to make the right decision.”
Dee came and sat on the bed beside her. “Tell Mama.”
Abby accepted a sip from her friend’s mug then rolled her eyes with the effort of putting her feelings into words. “He’s…I don’t know…overpowering. You’d have to see him to understand. Matthew Smythe walks into a room, and you just know he’s going to waltz out of there with anything he wants. I’ll bet he signs deals next week with all three of the bigwigs he was entertaining last night. And when he drove me home in his limo—”
“His li-mo-o-o-o?” Dee arched an ebony brow at her.
“Yes, his limo. When he drove me home after his guests had left, he told me he wanted me to come work for him. When I didn’t say yes right away, he kept upping the ante. He swore it was strictly business, no fooling around.”
“They all do,” Dee mused, but didn’t look too unhappy at the thought.
“It sounded as if he meant it. That’s what bothered me.”
“You mean, you wanted him to proposition you?”
“Of course not…at least, I don’t think I did. But when he didn’t I felt kind of…disappointed.” Abby agitatedly fluttered her fingers in the air. “It’s hard to explain. I just don’t trust myself around him. I’m like a spaceship in one of those intergalactic sci-fi flicks. My shields go down.”
Dee laughed. “You’ve really got it bad, girl.”
“The irritating thing is, I know the job is absolutely perfect. It would put me miles ahead in my master plan to open my own place. I’d only have to work for Smythe two, maybe three years…and I’d have all my start-up money plus the experience I’d need to run my own business.”
“But?”
“But I’d have to keep my shields up.”
“And after all this time, you don’t really want to, is that it?”
The all this time brought a painful twinge of remorse to her heart, for the words didn’t refer to the few hours she’d known Lord Matthew Smythe. Dee was referring to the other men who had come into Abby’s life, only to be told that she intended to wait for marriage to sleep with anyone. Richad Wooten, the last one, had nearly made it to the altar. Nearly being the operative word.
Abby nodded slowly, only now admitting to herself what she’d felt all the night before. “I can’t begin to tell you how handsome he is and what he does to my insides.” She hesitated. “And there’s something else.”
“I’m listening.” Dee sipped her coffee, her eyes never leaving Abby’s.
“I’m not sure I believe his promise that it will always be only business between us. And I know that sounds as if I’m contradicting myself—because of what I said about being attracted to him. But I keep asking myself, if he’s lying to
