‘If you tell me the make and model in the morning, it can be ready for you by the time you finish up tomorrow. Meanwhile, I’m quite happy to drive you home after work tonight. I wouldn’t want you to worry about your little girl.’
Jessie stared at him. He certainly wasn’t wasting any time in making his move.
‘You don’t have to do that,’ she said. ‘I do have a friend I could ring to pick Emily up if I think I can’t make it.’
‘A man friend?’
The question sounded casual, but Jessie could see more than curiosity in his eyes. Insane to imagine he was jealous. But it felt as if he was.
‘No,’ she said, and was sure he looked relieved. ‘An elderly lady. My landlady, in fact. I rent a granny flat from her. But she’s also a good friend.’
‘It’s no trouble for me to drive you home, Jessie,’ he said. ‘You don’t live that far away. Besides, I’d like the opportunity to talk to you some more. Out of the office.’
‘All right, then,’ she agreed, if a bit stiffly. She wished she could get the thought out of her head that she was being weak. ‘Thank you.’
‘It’s my pleasure.’ And he smiled at her again.
Jessie suppressed a moan. Oh, he was just so gorgeous. How could she possibly say no?
Yet she hated for him to think she was easy.
Jessie was well used to the way most men thought about single mothers. They were considered desperates. Desperate for sex. Desperate for company. Desperate for some man—any man—to give them the emotional and financial support they obviously weren’t getting from whoever had fathered their child.
In truth, there were quite a lot of single mothers who did act that way.
But Jessie wasn’t normally like most single mothers. She’d always prided herself on her self-sufficiency. After Lyall, she’d never wanted to rely on any man for anything. Not even for sex.
Not till she’d met Kane Marshall.
Now he was all she could think about. Already, she was looking forward to his driving her home. Her skin actually broke into goose-pimples at the thought.
Yet she should have been concentrating on the job she’d just been given.
Jessie jumped to her feet. ‘Now that that’s all settled, I’d better get started, don’t you think?’
He was much slower in rising, buttoning up his jacket as he did so.
His action drew her eyes to his suit. It wasn’t the same pale grey number he’d worn on Friday night. This one was a darker grey. But it was just as expensive-looking and stylish. Not a wrinkle marred the line of its sleeves, or where the collar sat neatly around his solid neck.
He was a big man, she noticed once more. Not overweight. Just tall, and strong, with the broadest shoulders.
He would look good, naked. Feel good, too.
Oh, dear, Jessie groaned to herself. I’m in trouble here. Big, big trouble.
‘This way,’ he said as he walked around and gestured towards the door.
Thankfully he didn’t touch her. His eyes were bad enough. The way they kept running over her.
He wasn’t all that different from those other divorced creeps who’d pursued her, Jessie realised as she bolted through the door ahead of him.
The difference lay in her. Those other men hadn’t made her tremble with a look. They hadn’t made her forget every wise word of warning her mother had ever given her about men.
No, that wasn’t true. She hadn’t forgotten any of her mother’s warnings. She knew what Kane Marshall was, and what he wanted.
The difference this time was that she wanted exactly the same thing he did.
JESSIE could not believe how quickly the day went, and how nice everyone was at Wild Ideas, especially her immediate boss.
In her early thirties, Michele was an attractive brunette, married, with one little girl and another baby on the way. She was warm and welcoming to Jessie, but at the same time efficient and precise. Very precise with her directions. She knew what she wanted—art-wise—and expected things to be done exactly as she wanted.
But Jessie was used to that. Jackson & Phelps had been a demanding company to work for. They had high standards and had trained her well.
But she much preferred working for Wild Ideas. Such a friendly atmosphere. The staff was relatively small—about twenty—and pretty well everyone had popped their heads into Michele’s office at some time during the day.
Actually, calling it an office was misleading. It was more of a work station. The behind-the-scenes office layout at Wild Ideas was open plan, cut up into cubicles, some larger than others. Michele’s area was quite large, but not fancy in any way. Plain pine furniture. No carpet. No doors. One window that looked out on to the main road.
Still, everything in it was clean and functional, with state-of-the-art computer equipment, along with every piece of software imaginable. Jessie got very excited to work on the very latest G5 Macintosh, which was so much faster than her old Imac.
Just as well, because her predecessor had left things in a right mess. There was so much to sort through that when lunchtime came she ate a sandwich at her desk. Margaret from Reception dropped by and brought her some coffee, which was sweet of her. Jessie could see that they were going to become friends.
The only breaks she had were to go to the ladies’ room and to make three phone calls. The first was to the restaurant to say that she was quitting. Since she was only a casual anyway, they didn’t much care. They’d fill her spot within hours. The second was to the day-care centre. True to form, Emily didn’t give a hoot that she would be late picking her up. Traitorous child! The third was to Dora, who was thrilled Jessie had got the job.
Unfortunately, Jessie couldn’t explain about the fiasco with the Marshall brothers, not with Michele sitting right next to her.
Actually, Jessie liked it that she worked right beside Michele and wasn’t off in another section on the floor, either in a corner by herself or with a whole bunch of other graphic artists. It seemed that at Wild Ideas, each creative designer had their own personal graphic artist. Sort of like their own private assistant. Jessie could see that this was a very successful way of doing things. New team leaders were being trained all the time. No wonder Harry Wilde never had to head-hunt executives from other agencies. He didn’t need to.
‘Time to wrap it up for today, girls. It’s almost five.’
Jessie whipped her head round at Kane’s voice to find him leaning against the open door frame, watching her. He looked as if he’d been there a while.
Actually,
