that sounded like a dismissal, Lucy stood.
“Seven-thirty. I’ll be ready.”
“And I have you until late tomorrow night.”
Why did that sound like something that involved more than work?
She was probably just imagining it.
Or was he trying to charm her?
It didn’t make any difference because she was absolutely going to ignore those flutters that were dancing around in her insides again in response.
“I’ll even bring after-hours shoes,” she said as if to convince him.
“Okay. Then we’re squared away.”
“But you will be looking for someone permanent to take my place? I really want to get into my freelance work at home before too long,” she said to make sure they were clear.
“I have an employment agency on it as we speak.”
“Good.”
“Say hello to Sadie for me,” Rand Colton said then.
“I will.”
“If you’re half the secretary she is, I’ll be satisfied.”
“I’m sure you’ll be satisfied,” Lucy said, mortified the moment the word was out of her mouth that she’d unconsciously put a lascivious spin on it. “With my work,” she added in a hurry, compounding her error.
Rand Colton grinned at her this time. A full, delighted grin of glistening, perfect white teeth that let her know right then and there why he had so many women willing to spend time with him.
But he let her off the hook by crossing to the office door to hold it open for her and saying a simple, “Seven-thirty.”
Lucy fought the blush that was heating her cheeks and took her exit, unhappy that she also noticed the fresh, clean scent of his aftershave as she passed in front of him to leave.
“I’ll tell Sadie you said hello,” Lucy muttered just for something to say as she left the office.
But her encounter with Rand Colton didn’t end then because he stayed in his doorway, watching her as she retraced her steps to the elevator. And when she hazarded a glance just before stepping into it, she found him still there, studying her.
But at least once the elevator doors closed she was alone and could breathe out the air she’d been unwittingly holding in her lungs.
It was going to be harder than she thought to work for Rand Colton, she realized on the way down from the twenty-third floor.
She could handle a difficult, demanding boss. But a difficult, demanding boss with gorgeous blue eyes, a body straight out of Esquire, charm, wit and even an unexpected sense of humor, who set off flutters in her stomach?
That was something else again.
Two
R and had never needed much sleep. The next morning, as usual, he was awake before the November sun had made an appearance. It was his morning routine right after waking to pour himself a cup of coffee, grab the just-delivered Washington Post and climb back into bed to read it before he showered.
But this morning, current events weren’t holding his interest. His gaze kept straying to the clock on his nightstand as if that would make time go faster.
He didn’t understand why he was so eager to get to work. He hadn’t felt that way in a long while now.
In fact, he hadn’t felt particularly eager about anything in a while now.
There were family problems back home in Prosperino, California, and he’d tried to tell himself that was the cause. But the truth was that there was something about his own life that seemed to have taken a turn when he wasn’t looking.
He didn’t understand it, and he couldn’t explain it. But in the last several months he’d lost some of the joy he’d found in things before. In his work. In his everyday life. In everything.
He still had the same intense drive to succeed, the same burning need to win his cases. That was just his nature—maybe because he was a firstborn. But he didn’t feel that old desire to charge into his day anymore. Nor his after-hours activities either, whether it was dinner with a supermodel in town for a shoot, a party at the White House, a fund-raiser for one of his pet causes or a weekend in the country with a gorgeous woman. It was as if everything had become mundane to him. Even excelling at what he did or being on the A-list around town.
Yet here he was this morning, excited to get his day under way.
Why was that?
The day ahead of him was like any other one. He had calls to make, clients to see, briefs and motions to write, a court appearance after lunch and then more of the same when he got back. Then he had the evening working with Lucy Lowry to straighten up the messes left by the previous secretaries.
Lucy Lowry.
Thinking about her intensified his sense of eagerness.
His latest temporary secretary was causing it?
That couldn’t be.
But there it was, irrefutably. What he was looking forward to today was seeing her again.
If that wasn’t the oddest thing, he didn’t know what was. He’d come away from their meeting yesterday thinking that he was who had really been interviewed. That he’d ended up being told how things were going to be run more than being the one to tell her. That she’d made the rules and left him to take it or leave it rather than the other way around. She was bossy and bold and outspoken.
So why was he so anxious to put himself in line for more of it?
She was great-looking, that was likely part of it. He was a sucker for a slender but curvy body with breasts that were just full enough. And that flawless ivory skin didn’t hurt anything. Or that curly mahogany hair—she’d no doubt thought she’d camouflaged its natural seductiveness by trussing it up.
She had a pert little nose, too. Upturned at the end. That wasn’t something he usually noticed, but for some reason he could picture it in his mind’s eye as if he’d fashioned it himself.
Then there were her eyes. Wide eyes that offset her simmering sexuality with a more innocent, doelike quality. Sparkling, crystal-blue eyes the color of a clear mountain lake in springtime. They were alight with life, with vigor, energy and spunk. Plenty of spunk.
In fact, he realized as he watched the sunrise through the sliding doors that led from his bedroom onto the balcony, she had so much spunk she reminded him of the characters Katharine Hepburn had played in so many of her movies with Spencer Tracy. Beautiful, feisty, sharp, smart and able to hold her own with Tracy whether as a lawyer or a reporter or a business whiz.
That was Lucy Lowry—beautiful, feisty, sharp and smart.
And
