His Captivating Confidante (Secret Sentinels) (13 page)

Or possibly not. Maybe, as Lauren had suggested, she should look at this assignment with Frank as an opportunity.

Perhaps she should take Lauren’s advice to heart and mix business with pleasure. She could bring up her beyond-friends feelings for him again, after what had transpired in the pool.

On the other hand, it might be wisest to shelve the assertive approach for the time being. She wasn’t sure she was up for another round of intense emotion so soon after their kiss earlier. Frank had made it perfectly clear, then, that he thought they were treading treacherous waters.

Deciding to focus on anything other than the man she’d be sharing a roof with for the next week, she prepared for bed. She thought she was faring pretty well in the ignore- the-male-delectableness department—a feat made far easier when Frank tucked himself away in his own room.

Her victory, though, was short lived.

Deciding to take advantage of the soaking tub in the master bathroom, she stepped into the bathroom and accidentally encountered the very specimen of male deliciousness who had been occupying her thoughts. Apparently he’d just emerged from the shower, because he was wrapped in a robe—and nothing else.

He wasn’t by any means indecent, but he might as well have been standing before her completely naked, considering the impact he immediately had on her erogenous zones.

He was so excruciatingly handsome that he made her soul sigh. The vibes bouncing between them were magnetic—their pull impossible to ignore.

What started as a lick of flame, a tiny whisper of heat, took only a second to erupt into a raging wildfire. The alluring heat dared her to draw even closer to him when she really should be distancing herself from this enticing man.

A man who,
she reminded herself,
only wants to be my friend.

The devilish side of her was having no part of her rationalizations, refusing to stand down when fanning the flame was far more exciting. She might be innocent, but she knew enough to be dangerous. Frank’s quickened breathing and darkened eyes telegraphed that, despite his unwillingness to admit it, was just as into her as she was into him.

But could she bask in the glow of that flame of attraction without getting singed? Deciding the answer was no, she excused herself, wished him a good night, and made her way past him down the hall to bed.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Stephanie woke early the next morning after having spent most of the night tossing and turning. The awareness that Frank was sleeping just past her bedroom door—so close and yet so far away—had made rest elusive.

After a quick shower she slipped into a short, black pencil skirt and paired it with an ivory silk blouse. She styled her hair, then added a touch of makeup to her face and sprayed her favorite fragrance on her pulse points. A pair of diamond-stud earrings and black stilettos completed the look.

A quick double check in the mirror assured her the makeup had succeeded in concealing the evidence of her sleepless night, and that she looked competently professional.

When she stepped out of the master bedroom, she found Frank getting an early start on the day as well. He’d already showered and brewed a pot of coffee.

“Good morning,” he greeted her. “Sleep well?”

She opted for honesty. “Not really. You?”

“No,” he told her, pinning her with a look that said he knew exactly what she’d suffered through—and why. A thrill of satisfaction at the thought that he wasn’t immune to the chemistry flaring between them zinged through her. It was somewhat heartening to her that not acting on that chemistry had left him equally frustrated.

“I made coffee if you’d like some,” he offered. “And Vanessa texted me this morning to invite us to join her for a light breakfast at Damon’s.”

“That sounds lovely,” she smiled, helping herself to a cup of the fragrant java.

Vanessa’s idea of a “light breakfast” turned out to be a veritable feast set out smorgasbord style on the terrace. Damon’s chef had prepared an assortment of delicacies including scrambled eggs, pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, home fries, coffee, and a selection of fresh-squeezed juices.

“This is spectacular!” Stephanie told Vanessa. “It’s a good thing we’re only here for a week. Any longer and I’d be leaving weighing twice what I did when I arrived. How do you stay so slim, eating like this every day?”

“Damon keeps me running, so I burn off the calories quickly,” Vanessa replied with a grin. “There’s never a dull moment. Speaking of running, I promised Damon we’d be on our way by nine. We should probably head out.”

“Where is Damon this morning?” Frank asked.

“He was called back to his office last night to handle an emergency that cropped up during an overseas conference call. I flew him in, and he decided to stay overnight, since things were pretty tense on the business front. But I chatted with him earlier and the situation has been resolved, so the meeting with the book dealer is still a go.”

Stephanie saw Frank’s eyebrows shoot skyward at that tidbit of information, but he didn’t comment.

“Ready?” Vanessa asked.

“Whenever you are,” Stephanie replied.

“Great. The helicopter pad is behind the main house.”

“Lead the way.”

Soon she and Vanessa were airborne, headed for Damon’s office. Vanessa was a competent pilot, and she made the trip entertaining by pointing out various landmarks along the route.

“So how long have you worked for Damon?”

“Two years now. As you can see, my duties go beyond your typical administrative assistant’s responsibilities. This job takes every assumption people make when they think of the tasks a personal assistant is assigned to do and turns them on their head. That’s one of the reasons I love it so much, actually. Every day is different, and there’s always a fresh challenge. Not to mention that Damon is a great boss.”

“From what I’ve seen in the short time I’ve been here, he’s fortunate to have you.”

“
I’m
the one who’s lucky. Damon saved me from myself. I was at a rough juncture in my life when I met him. If it hadn’t been for his kindness and his compassion, I’d probably be doing jail time instead of helping him with the day-to-day running of a multibillion-dollar corporation.”

“It seems like a twenty-four-seven kind of role. It must be hard, not having a lot of downtime to spend with your family.”

“I don’t have any family, actually. I was orphaned when I was a baby, and I grew up bouncing from foster home to foster home. The experience wasn’t a good one, and it left me with a bit of a chip on my shoulder. That chip had me traveling the wrong path, until Damon took me under his wing. He’s the first person who believed in me. He mentored me, and I owe him everything for shaping me into the woman I am today.”

The picture that Vanessa painted of her boss didn’t jive at all with Frank’s assessment of Damon’s character, but Stephanie was certain the woman’s heartfelt testimony was sincere. Emotion like that couldn’t be easily faked. Damon was looking less and less like a bad guy, and more and more deserving of a white hat than the black one Frank was convinced he wore.

But then there was
the matter of his frequent appearances in the gossip pages with a seemingly ever-changing selection of beautiful women.

“I’m guessing you’ve sent a lot of ‘Dear Jane’ gifts on his behalf when he dissolves a relationship, huh?”

Vanessa laughed, waving a hand in dismissal of the notion. “The society pages love nothing more than to exaggerate Damon’s love life. The whole ‘woman of the week’ thing is a myth. He doesn’t have time for that. Sure, when he makes the rounds of the social-circuit there’s no shortage of females looking to share the spotlight with him, but that’s all it is. He doesn’t sleep with those women, if that’s what you’re asking. His work is his mistress.”

Damon was waiting for them on the rooftop of his glossy, high-rise office complex when Vanessa set the copter down on the landing pad.

“It’s good to see you again, Stephanie,” he greeted her.

She couldn’t help noticing that he looked sharp in his tailored business suit—its deep charcoal hue accentuated the richness of his blond hair.

“I’m glad you could make it. Vanessa tells me you’ve already made amazing inroads on the library. I can’t wait to see what you’ve done with the room.”

“I still have quite a bit left to do, but I’m making progress. To be honest, it doesn’t feel like work at all. You have such an amazing collection of books—it’s like being a kid in a candy store.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. Let’s go inside. We can chat before the meeting.”

Soon they were settled in Damon’s luxurious office, where he took a moment to bring her up to speed on the upcoming business transaction he was about to broker.

“I’m thinking about acquiring a book from a dealer I haven’t worked with before,” he explained. “As Vanessa told you, I’m very interested in adding a first edition of Robert Louis Stevenson’s
Treasure Island
to my collection. I’d like your opinion of the one he’s offering before I commit to his asking price.”

“Of course. I’d be happy to assess it,” she assured him.

They were absorbed in amicable conversation when Vanessa buzzed Damon to announce his guest’s arrival.

Vanessa escorted the man in, and she and Damon rose to greet him. When she shook hands with the dealer she noticed that his palm was sweaty and he seemed anxious. That set off warning bells, but the book he handed over to Damon for inspection appeared, at a glance, to be of immaculate quality. She couldn’t imagine what he was so worried about.

“What do you think?” Damon asked, passing the copy of
Treasure Island
over to her for appraisal.

She had no doubt the book was an authentic first edition. The only factor that she thought could reduce its value was the presence of a handwritten note on the title page. It was a simple congratulatory message, unsigned, and followed by a string of dates she assumed must have some significance—perhaps they were even related to major events in the gift recipient’s life? A string of dates were penned in on the last page as well.

“The book is in exceptional condition for its age,” she noted. “The binding is completely intact, and the pages are hardly worn. It’s been cared for extraordinarily well.”

Seemingly satisfied with her answer, Damon directed his attention on the dealer. “What’s your asking price?”

The man adjusted his tie, buying himself a moment before responding to the inquiry. “Twenty thousand dollars.”

Stephanie’s eyes widened.

Well, that explains why he’s anxious
, she thought.

The amount he’d indicated was highway robbery, regardless of the book’s amazing condition.

Damon didn’t bat an eye, nor did he try to negotiate a better selling price.

She knew he must want the book very badly, but she couldn’t in good conscience let him spend that kind of money when she was certain she could obtain a similar volume for a quarter of that.

“Can I see you in private for a moment, Damon?” she asked.

“Sure,” he assented, before turning his attention to their guest. “Would you excuse us?”

The man nodded and swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. As she walked past, she saw him remove a handkerchief from his pocket and wipe his forehead.

“He’s really nervous,” she murmured, as soon as they were in the hallway and out of earshot. “And it’s no wonder. The book is in mint condition, but his asking price is highly inflated. It might take a few weeks, but I’m confident I could find a similar copy for you for far less.”

“My intuition tells me he’s selling the book for a third party, thus the high price tag. He’s probably looking to make a little extra on the deal to pad his own pockets. This is the volume I want, though, and I appreciate your help in vetting it. I just needed to be certain it was the real deal.”

“Okay. If you’re sure . . .” she ventured, unconvinced that the transaction was a wise one. Still, she knew it wasn’t her place to weigh in on his business dealings.

They returned to Damon’s office, where he arranged for a transfer of the funds to the dealer’s account. Once the book dealer confirmed the money had been deposited, he turned the book over to Damon and went on his way.

“I have a few other meetings scheduled for this morning, before I can fly back with you,” Damon told them. “I’ve arranged for my driver to take you to my sister’s clothing boutique while you’re waiting. She’s set aside a couple of her new designs for you and Vanessa. She’d love it if you’d wear them at a dinner party I’m hosting Saturday night. There are some foreign dignitaries attending, and it would be a great way for her to introduce her label to overseas prospects.”

Vanessa’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Oh! how can we refuse an offer like that? You’re going to love Larissa’s gowns, Stephanie. She’s a gifted designer.”

A short limo ride later, she and Vanessa were greeted by a stunning redhead whose looks and figure would have easily allowed her to showcase her own creations on the catwalk.

Stephanie quickly discovered that Larissa Landers was more than just another pretty face. In addition to being sharp-witted, she possessed an unerring eye for fashion.

The gown Larissa selected for Vanessa was a silky, mermaid-style number with a long, lacy skirt. The fire-engine-red dress suited both Vanessa’s coloring and slender shape perfectly.

Stephanie’s dress was crafted from a shimmery metallic fabric that flowed over her curves like liquid gold. Strategically placed sheer mesh cutouts drew attention to her waist and bust, with more sheer panels draping down from a thigh-high slitted skirt. She felt like a princess in the slinky creation.

“You both look gorgeous,” Larissa said, beaming. “Now for the shoes.”

Larissa was a magician in the footwear department as well, and Stephanie and Vanessa left the boutique a half hour later with the gowns and matching stilettos safely tucked up in garment bags.

“I can see why you love your job,” Stephanie told Vanessa, grinning. “One-on-one time with a talented fashion designer is quite a perk.”

“Yes,” she said. “This job definitely comes with its share of perks.”