feeling lasted only a few more seconds, until Stephen rose from the settee and towered over her. He folded his arms across his chest.
“So, tell me, Miss Sommerfield, why do you refuse to come to work for me?”
There were a dozen reasons—and there were none. Caroline had lain awake most of the night reliving the short time she’d been in his house, in his presence. She’d tossed and turned, wrestling with emotions she’d never imagined before. Stephen had managed to take over most of her thoughts, somehow, and no one—not one single person—had ever done that.
He had consumed her, and the scary part was that he would continue to do so. Caroline had sensed that in him the first moment they met, even though she couldn’t put a name to the feeling at the time. He would devour her and all she believed in, until there was nothing left of herself.
Caroline eased away from him, needing the distance, hoping that space between them would ease the tension. It didn’t.
“I don’t need your job,” she said.
His brow creased. “You didn’t find work elsewhere?”
“No,” she admitted. “But I realized that if Richard Paxton, then you, would recognize my skills and offer me employment, so would someone else. It’s just a matter of time before another offer comes along.”
Stephen’s frown deepened. “Don’t be so sure about that, Miss Sommerfield. I know every businessman in the city. If the wrong type of rumor got out about you…”
Stunned, she faced him again. “You’d—you’d do that? You’d ruin me?” she demanded.
“The business world can be very ugly, Miss Sommerfield.”
“But that would be a lie! A bare-faced lie!”
Stephen glanced toward the parlor door. “Do you want your aunt back in here, asking questions?”
Caroline clamped her mouth shut, capping her anger but not stopping it.
“Won’t your aunt be surprised to learn that your real goal in coming to Los Angeles isn’t to find a husband?” he asked.
She felt violated. “How did you know that?”
“Don’t think I haven’t seen that look in her eye before, on the face of countless other aunts, mothers and grandmothers,” Stephen said. “And tell me this, Miss Sommerfield, what would your aunt say if she found out your true desire is to work for the Pinkerton Detective Agency?”
Caroline’s mouth flew open. “Who told you?”
He pressed on. “Would she be scandalized to learn that you want a job? I think she would be. In fact, she might even contact your father.”
Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you saying these things? Why are you doing this?” She spun away and stalked to the window, struggling to hold her temper down. “You’re a wicked man,” she said.
Yes, he was. Stephen knew that because at the moment he was having some very wicked thoughts.
He walked to the window and stood behind her, as close as he dared. Her hair was done up in a knot atop her head, with a few tendrils curling loose. He wanted to lean his head down and press his mouth against that lovely neck of hers. Ease himself closer until her soft body cushioned his. Loop his arms around her and cup her breasts in his palms.
Oh, yes, he was a very wicked man.
Caroline shifted, keeping her chin high and her shoulders straight. The movement rustled her clothing, and Stephen imagined peeling away all those layers. Lace, silk, bows, ribbons, all waiting there for him to discover…and discard.
“I’m glad I slapped you last night,” Caroline said, still refusing to turn away from the window.
He deserved that slap. And he could probably use another right now. Something to bring him back to reality and restore a little sanity to his thoughts. He’d been almost continuously aroused since he’d laid eyes on her last night, and he never did his best thinking in that state. In fact, he could hardly think at all. Except about one thing.
On the way over here this morning he’d planned what he’d say to her. Richard had told him how she wanted to work for Pinkerton, and that she’d been sent to Los Angeles to find a husband. He’d intended to use that against her, threaten to tell her aunt, force Caroline to come to work for him.
Running an international corporation meant using what means were at his disposal to get what he wanted. Tough problems needed tough solutions sometimes. And that was all right with Stephen. He liked getting his way.
But this time, with Caroline, it brought him no pleasure. No business opponent had ever looked hurt before, as Caroline did. None had made him feel ashamed, as she had.
She turned then, her chin still high. Her nearness hummed through Stephen. She smelled rich and earthy. If he moved forward, just the tiniest bit, he could touch her.
Instead he forced himself to back up a step.
“It appears you’ve left me no choice,” she said.
She held herself rigid, clinging to her dignity and pride despite the fact he’d forced her to do it his way. The desire to kiss her roiled through Stephen. He wanted to replace that hurt look with pleasure, make her smile again.
But the image of Russell Pickette appeared in Stephen’s mind, along with the memory of his father. He wouldn’t let either of them get the best of him. For that he needed Caroline. And now he had her.
“All right, Mr. Monterey, I’ll accept your job,” she said. “But this is strictly business. No personal involvement of any kind.”
Stephen nodded. “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Chapter Five
Aunt Eleanor glided into the parlor, still smiling.
“Bessie will have tea for us in a moment,” she said.
Stephen retrieved his derby from the table. “That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Markham, but Caroline and I are going out.”
“You are?” she asked.
“We are?” Caroline echoed.
Stephen turned to her. “We are.”
“But—”
“You should bring a wrap,” Stephen said. “We’ll likely be out until late.”
“But…Now?”
Stephen smiled. “No sense in waiting.”
Caroline planted her hands on her hips. “Did it occur to you, Mr. Monterey, that I might already have plans for today?”
He shrugged indifferently. “No, not for a minute.”
“Run along, Caroline, dear,”
