Love At The Top

NLKQIDOAGU Love at the Top Susan Marie Knight 3/5/2004 MobiPocket.com en

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All her reservations were swept aside by this handsome, demanding stranger. >

Alex captured her lips in a sudden kiss, crushing Cassidy against his chest. A tiny part of her mind protested, urging her to pull away. But the rest of her ignored her own warning, ignored the fact that they were sitting on a very public park bench. What happened to the rest of the world didn't matter now. Her universe had been reduced to a heated embrace on a graffiti-carved bench. She curved her arms around him to reduce the universe even further, then ran her fingers through his thick hair. His beard tickled and teased her skin. She'd never realized a beard could be so erotic. A ragged sigh escaped him. Parting her lips with his tongue, he explored the inside of her mouth. Her heart drummed a primitive, crescendo-building beat. She tingled in pulsating waves all the way down to her toes. She'd never felt these sweeping, mind-numbing sensations with her ex-husband. All her reservations were swept aside by this handsome, demanding stranger. He slid his hands down her arms, then released her. She blinked, then blinked again. A surge of dizziness overtook her. Gripping the wooden plank on which she sat, she stared at him until she could, once more, call her body her own. For a few seconds, she had been lost. Red-faced, she must have had a red-face, she glanced around the park. Thank goodness nobody appeared to have noticed this very public display of passion. Or maybe New Yorkers were too well schooled to let the unusual disturb them. Either way, she couldn't believe her own wanton behavior. There, I've given you something to think about, haven't I? He sat back, looking pleased with himself. But, if she wasn't mistaken, she spotted an intentness in his gaze. And a slight breathlessness to his words. He wasn't so unaffected by what had just passed

between them…

>> Love at the Top > by

Susanne Marie Knight

> NBI NovelBooks, Inc. > Douglas, Massachusetts

This is a work of fiction. While reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the characters, incidents, and dialogs are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2002 by Susanne Marie Knight All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and review. For information, address NovelBooks, Inc., P.O. Box 661, Douglas, MA 01516 or email [email protected]

NBI > Published by NovelBooks, Inc. > P.O. Box 661 Douglas, MA 01516 NovelBooks Inc. publishes books online and in

trade paperback.. For more information, check our website: www.novelbooksinc.com or email [email protected] Produced in the United States of America. Cover illustration by Linnea Sinclair Edited by Maryann Miller ISBN 1-931696-29-2 for electronic version ISBN 1-931696-70-5 for trade paperback

For my family and friends,

And everyone who believes love will find a way!

Chapter One When Jennie Mulligan entered the office, Cassidy

Romanelli looked up from behind her metal desk and sighed. Another interruption. One of many this morning. She might as well forget about getting anything done. Another day like this and she'd raise the white flag signaling surrender. Cassidy dog-earred the spot on the job application she'd been reviewing, set down the red marking pencil, and folded her hands in front of her. Hi, Jennie. Her friend parked her plump bottom in the padded chrome-legged chair. From the pleased expression lifting her bright lips, no doubt Jennie'd just heard a scintillating bit of gossip. Cassidy grimaced. Whether or not she wanted it, she was about to be treated to the latest inter-office tidbit. Hey, her friend blurted through a wad of ever-present gum. What's going on? A rhetorical question, obviously. With mile-high stacks of applications for the vacant consultant position threatening to topple off the desk, Jennie knew only too well what was going on. Work, Cassidy succinctly replied. Realizing she sounded gruff, she explained, Since Dunkirk, the other personnel specialist, is sick, this job's been dumped in my lap. And I have to get the best qualified list done by Monday. This Monday, for goodness sake! Yeah, well… Jennie leaned closer, whispering, Never mind that. I've got some juicy news.

Cassidy studied her pale pink-lacquered nails. She had been the juicy news seven months ago and, heaven help her, it still hurt. Who's having an affair now? No, no. It's nothing like that. Jennie's green eyes contained a mischievous twinkle. I just heard. The new head of Haydon-Smith Communications is scheduled to fly in from London. Soon! He wants to get familiar with the American end of the business. Her eyes now widened. He's coming to see us, Cassi! Cassidy yawned. So? Another bigwig to rocket in with his yes men, mouthing platitudes, promising the moon, then rushing off to elite society functions. Nothing changed-nothing ever did. So, you pea brain, A. E. Haydon-Smith is single! And very, very eligible. He's one of the richest men in England. Glancing at the overhead clock, Cassidy frowned. Eleven-thirty. Where had the morning gone? She didn't have time to shoot the breeze. Okay, so you've told me. He's probably an old coot, anyway. She grinned. If he's such a great catch, you have my permission to marry him. Fluffing up her fiery red halo of curls, Jennie giggled. I just might pull it off! You wait and see. Cassidy rubbed at her eyes but unfortunately, the paperwork refused to disappear. Old coot or not, you'd think everyone and his brother wants to work

for Haydon-Smith. At this rate, I'll never get out of here. Jennie pursed her lips. Cassi, not again. You're not wasting another weekend on work. No way. Before Cassidy had a chance to react, Jennie jumped up and drummed sturdy fingers against her folded arms. When are you going to start living again? When was the last time you had a date? Jeez, Cassi, you've been divorced for a year already! Staring at the ring finger on her left hand, Cassidy still couldn't get used to its nakedness. Actually, it's only been seven months. She lowered her voice. Today's my wedding anniversary. As soon as the words were out, she regretted revealing her private sadness. Jennie laughed. It was an ugly sound, and Cassidy looked at her friend in surprise. How could she be so...so callous? > After clamping her hand over her mouth, Jennie wiggled down into the chair. Sorry. But dammit, Cassi, someone's got to shake some sense into you. You've got a face and figure to die for, and what do you do with your assets? You sit at home and shrivel up like a prune. You might as well enter a nunnery. All this talk gave Cassidy a headache. The constant hum of the central air conditioning

suddenly grated, rather than soothed. Was the June sun blazing hot? Or was rain drenching the New York City streets below? Who knew? Her office was windowless. The mounds of paper mocked her. She'd have to skip lunch. As usual. I'll think about it. The nunnery, I mean. Cassidy smiled to show she was kidding. Now, I have to get back to work. If you don't mindI do mind! Ever since that bum you married took off for parts unknown, you're like a ghost-girl. I can see you but you're not really here. You're so afraid of getting involved again that if Mr. Right ever said 'Boo,' you'd run so fast in the other direction, an Olympic gold medalist couldn't catch you. Narrowing her gaze, Cassidy stood and savagely pushed her hair behind her ears. Thank you for the therapy session, Ms. Mulligan. You've saved me a bundle of money. Jennie got the hint. She held out her hands in a placating manner. Okay, okay, so I was out of line and I'll make it up to you over lunch. Cassidy firmly maneuvered her friend to the other side of the door. I'm too busy. Really. Give me a buzz tomorrow. Maybe we can have lunch then. She probably wouldn't have time tomorrow, either. But she had to say something. Not waiting for a reply, she stepped back and clicked the door shut. Finally, she was alone. Cassidy sat down at her desk and rested her head

on the pile of applications. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes watered, and she blinked back tears. Darn. Tears always flowed too quickly nowadays. Reaching for a tissue, she erased any telltale signs of sorrow. Time heals all wounds. Or so the saying goes. But just how much time was needed? When would she get over losing Bruce? When would she stop...missing him? ~*~ Walking down Broadway to the park by City Hall, Cassidy shielded her eyes from the bright sun. She changed her mind. Her office's four walls had seemed to close in on her. She had to escape to the outside, to the sunlight. When her stomach rumbled, she stopped at a street vendor's stand and bought a steaming hot pretzel and a Coke. Not much of a lunch, but it was better than being stuck in her office. As she waited for the pretzel, her forlorn image reflected back at her from a corner store's window. Taking stock, she dismissed her flyaway light brown hair as mousy, her beige business suit as adequate but boring, and beige pumps as serviceable but unexciting. She appeared as inviting as a week-old piece of white bread. She sighed. What had Jennie said? A face and figure to die for? Maybe to some, but obviously that hadn't been enough to keep Bruce interested. Cassidy was a failure as a wife, as a woman. But still, why had he told her, repeatedly, that she was

everything to him; that he loved her to distraction? And God help her, she'd believed him. The truth was, he'd loved her as long as no other woman had been in the room. And that hurt. It still hurt. Men. Who could understand them? She looked at her reflection again. Was she washed-up at age twenty-five? Or was that washed-out? After thanking the pretzel man, she put on her purple framed sunglasses, then crossed the street to the park. A gust of wind rustled through the maple trees to welcome her. The cool air dancing over her skin felt wonderful, especially after standing in the blistering sun. She sat down on an empty wood-planked bench, and bit into the pretzel. The coarse salt burned her mouth, and she coughed...and coughed. From the opposite bench, a man asked, Are you all right? Unable to speak, she nodded, then popped open her Coke can and took a swallow. However, instead of easing the tickle, the soda's fizzle seared a path down her throat. The hacking increased. Goodness, she was coming apart at the seams! Moving quickly, the man sat beside her and pounded on her back. The heavy hammering chased away the coughs and her breath. Th-Thank you, she stammered.

After inhaling deeply, she looked up and met his dark blue gaze. He smiled. At least she thought he smiled. His lips were hidden in a heavy black beard, the kind a sea captain might envy. He reached for her hand and repeated, Are you all right? Dark swirls of hair decorated his large hands. His warm clasp sent shivers up her arms. Pleasurable shivers. He was about forty, and the size of Mr. America. Her hand was swallowed by his, and she gently extracted it. Y-Yes, thank you very much. In addition to a beard, her rescuer had thick, unruly black hair in need of cutting. He wore frayed blue jeans and a baggy, denim shirt ripped at the shoulder. His rubber thongs revealed feet smudged by street grime. His loose shirt couldn't hide his broad shoulders, nor the jeans disguise his muscular thighs. A shiver of apprehension rocked her. He wasn't a vagrant, was he? Why was he helping her? What did he want? She slid further down the bench. I, er, I must be going. Her half-eaten pretzel fell to the pavement. His blue eyes, so clear before, clouded. Of course. I understand. He sounded extremely formal and impersonal. Picking up the pretzel, he dropped it in a trash can, then returned to the park bench across from hers. His previously open expression now

appeared shuttered. When he'd spoken, she'd caught a hint of an accent, probably British. His obvious disappointment over her unfriendliness pricked at her conscience. She'd hurt his feelings, and that made her feel wretched. Indecision gnawed at her. Should she do something for him? A good deed for a good deed? After all, he had helped her. Maybe he needed someone to talk to. And who cares about clothes? Clothes don't make the man. > For some reason, Jennie's words resurfaced. If Mr. Right ever said 'Boo,' you'd run so fast… Not that this man was Mr. Right by any stretch of the imagination. But he was attractive, in a crinkled sort of way. Cassidy straightened her shoulders. How could she make amends? Looking at the sheer size of him, she had an idea. She walked over to his bench. I'm sorry. That wasn't a proper thank-you, was it? Could I buy you some lunch? The man's piercing gaze caused her to flush. Somehow she felt vulnerable standing in front of him. She adjusted her sunglasses, grateful that her eyes were hidden. Maybe he wouldn't notice her embarrassment. Under his bushy beard, he slowly smiled. It would take more than one of those pretzels to fill me up. She felt the flush deepen. No, I didn't mean-

Of course you didn't. You are kind. However, I've already eaten. Resting his elbows against the back of the park bench, he lifted his eyebrow as if daring her to contradict him. His urbane, polished voice was at odds with his bohemian attire. He puzzled her, and she could never resist the challenge of a good puzzle. He shaded his eyes from the sun, then looked up at her. Do you always have such a nutritional lunch? She laughed. How wonderful it felt to let loose! She'd almost forgotten how to smile, let alone laugh. Sometimes I splurge and have a potato knish. A what? His bewildered expression forced her to grin again. Inhaling deeply, she made a decision. She was about to take a chance, but what the heck? That was what life was all about. You should try one. It's delicious. Come on, I have fifteen minutes left on my lunch hour. Let's walk and I'll get you a knish. The sunlight caught in his twinkling blue eyes. He rose, then gave her a subtle nod. That's the best offer I've had all day. Her gaze traveled up the impressive length of him. Without trying to, he towered over her. A tiny shudder vibrated down her spine. I hope I'm not making a big mistake.

Skirting a flock of bread-pecking pigeons, they headed for Broadway. They must have looked like such a strange couple, her dressed for business and him dressed for...for what? The beach? The Bowery? She frowned. Maybe she was too hung up on appearance. Critical Cassidy. She turned her attention into learning more about this man. You're from England? Britain. Not exactly a fountain of information, but he intrigued her. Although she prided herself on not being inquisitive, she couldn't help asking, What brings you to New York? His eyes flickered. I'm on...on holiday. A vacation? She didn't believe him. Who would go on vacation dressed as he was? Romanelli, you're judging him again. She said a silent apology, then stopped at another street vendor's stand to order a knish. Two, her companion insisted. I'll eat mine if you'll have one, also. I'd offer to pay but all I have are shillings. From his pocket, he produced a handful of gleaming silver coins. Her stomach rumbled again. Okay, I guess I am hungry. And maybe eating together would break the ice a bit. Eating while they walked, he quickly finished the knish. It's quite good, actually. Crunchy crust and

soft potato filling. Perhaps I'll go back later and have another. That brought to mind his money situation. You'll need American money, she reminded. I could give youI'll procure some today. With a paper napkin, he wiped potato crumbs off his beard. A chill raced down her backbone. Procure. What an odd word. It conjured up bank robbery, theft, pick-pocketing. She threw her napkin into a nearby trash can, disturbing a small swarm of flies. Do you have a place, um, to stay? Visions of him sleeping in a subway station rose unpleasantly before her. He stopped walking-right in the middle of the sidewalk. A disgruntled woman bumped into him and tightened her lips, probably getting ready to give him a piece of her mind. Craning her neck, the woman looked up at the size of him, gulped, then hurriedly walked around. He didn't seem to notice. Yes, I have a place to stay. Why so many questions? Are you a detective? Or just a nosy Parker? Cassidy tugged on his arm, forcing him to continue walking. I don't know what a nosy Parker is. But if it's a busybody, okay, I'm a busybody. I just wanted to make sure you had a place to stay. Maybe she was taking her Good Samaritan deed too far. Shaking her head, she gazed up at him and guessed his height. Six foot five or six?

Why is that? Even with his beard, she could tell his smile was lopsided. Would you let me stay at your flat? Her flat. Such a strange way to refer to an apartment. Amazingly enough though, she wasn't offended by his inappropriate question. No. Of course not. Why not? Are you married? She snorted. No! Are you? His smile teased her. No. A flush heated her cheeks. How did they get on that dreadful subject, anyway? She looked at her watch. Time to head back to work. From out of the blue, he answered her question. I'm staying at my sister's. Knowing that he had a family-a respectable background, she hoped, made her feel better. That must be nice. It's not. I'm sleeping on the couch. He sounded indignant but his eyes hinted at amusement. She laughed again. She'd laughed more today than she had in a year...or more. For your sake, I hope it's a big couch! At the corner of Barclay and Church Street, she paused and smoothed back her hair. Well, it's been good talking with you. I have to get back now. Perhaps I'll see you tomorrow-in the park. He took

her hand and firmly shook it. Or we could meet for lunch. A proper lunch, of course. Heat rose on her cheeks again. If she agreed, she'd be committing to a date-of sorts. Her first one since...Bruce. And what's wrong with that? Retrieving her hand, she murmured, Maybe. The way was clear to cross the street, but she was reluctant to move. Did she want to see him again? Her heart thumped, yes. She smiled up at him. By the way, my name's Cassidy. He nodded and gave her a wink. A pleasure meeting you, Cassidy. I'm Smith...Alex Smith. See you tomorrow. As he waved good-bye, his large hand blocked the sun for a moment. He then turned and walked back towards the park. After crossing the street, Cassidy followed his progress down the block until he reached Broadway. She lost sight of him in the crowd. Alex Smith. She smiled. Maybe it was foolish of her, but she liked him. She liked him a lot. The sun suddenly went behind a cloud, echoing the eclipse from Alex's hand. She shivered. A vague feeling of trouble niggled at her. For some reason, Alex Smith sounded like an alias. ~*~ Heading back to the park, Alex Smith scratched at

his beard. He could get used to not shaving every day. Too bad he soon had to cast off his vagabond ways and return to the cutthroat world of business. The pity of it was that he had to return on his dead uncle's terms, not his own. Alex waited for the Walk sign to light up, then crossed Broadway. He smiled grimly. Due to the provisions in his uncle's will, he had to return to the company. He could resign himself to that. But he'd handle the business his way. He did not intend to be a figurehead. And what he wanted, he always got. Always. He sat down on the park bench he had so recently vacated and let his mind relax. A deliciously different young lady flickered through his thoughts. Different from the class-conscious, money-hungry debs it was his misfortune to encounter time and time again. He sighed. Quite a pleasant interlude he'd just had. Cassidy had obviously warred with whether she should befriend a stranger, an unmistakably down-on-his-luck stranger. He'd noticed the uncertain expression that had crossed her face before she'd smiled and approached him. Perhaps she'd been acting out of a core of natural kindness. He was glad she'd conquered her fears. He'd enjoyed talking with her, being with her. She'd given the day a certain glow. Now that she was gone, even the sun seemed dimmer. What a strange sensation not to have a woman fall all over herself to get to know him. Cassidy's smiles had been genuine, not false. And visions of

money hadn't danced before her eyes. His laugh startled the nearby pigeons into flying off in a furious rustle of feathers. Of course she had no idea who he was, or how much he was worth. That was the purpose of his present attire. He wanted to enjoy himself without people seeing him as a walking pound sign...or dollar sign. Women were always trying to trap him into the wedded state. He had no use for marriage. None whatsoever. Scratching at his beard again, he glanced at the discarded pretzel in the trash can. Still, if the right woman ever came along.... His heart started beating faster. He very much hoped Cassidy would overcome her understandable reluctance and meet him tomorrow for lunch.

Chapter Two > After making a complete pass around the City Hall Park, Cassidy felt foolish. She stopped at the corner of Murray Street and scanned the green wooden benches, again. No sign of Alex Smith. Here she was, dressed in a spanking new silk, periwinkle-blue dress, waiting for a total stranger to keep a tenuous date. What was she...desperate? Crazy? If her mother ever found out, Cassidy would never hear the end of it. What time had they agreed to meet, anyway? Had

he even said? Had she bothered to ask? No. The whole thing was rather silly now that she thought about it. She looked at her watch. Half past twelve. Half past her lunch hour. Who knew what time Alex Smith had in mind. So what should she do now? She didn't have the nerve to sit on a bench and wait. That would mean she actually cared whether or not he showed. Well, she didn't care. She didn't buy the new dress just for him. She needed it. And the handbag and the shoes. She had to have matching accessories, didn't she? The heat from the sun burned through the delicate fabric of her dress. Ducking under a low branch of a maple tree, she stepped into the shade. She felt as conspicuous as a Christmas tree in June. All dressed up and no place to go. All because of a stranger's blue eyes. So much for your decision to swear off men, Romanelli. A lot of good it's gotten you. Anger building behind her eyes, she folded her arms over her chest, and tapped her now-bronze-lacquered nails against her sleeves. And then he stands me up. Wait a minute. She took a deep breath to calm down. What did it matter? She was entitled to act a little irrationally every once in a while. No harm done. Right?

Right. She was glad she'd met the enigmatic Mr. Smith. Unknowingly, he'd pulled her out of her doldrums. For the first time since her troubles with Bruce, she finally felt alive. She adjusted her sunglasses. Today she would take control of her life! Straightening, she took a purposeful step. Then a hand on her shoulder caused her to jump. She turned, and there he was. Sorry I'm late. Got lost in the tube. Alex Smith apologized in an offhanded way. He took in every last inch of her appearance and raised an eyebrow. Nice. Dare I hope you dressed for me? Cassidy shook her shoulder free. What conceit! Especially since he wore the same frayed jeans as yesterday. His concession to the occasion was a huge, overly-loud Hawaiian shirt. And his thong-clad feet had no spots of dirt on them today. She caught herself before tightening her lips in disapproval. After all, what did she expect? Did she expect this mammoth, black-bearded seafaring guy to present himself clean-shaven and clad in a fine hand-tailored suit? Trying to keep the chagrin from her voice, she was glad her darkened sunglasses hid her eyes. She'd made too much out of yesterday's encounter. He was a pleasant man, large and friendly, nothing more. Probably told lies too, just like Bruce. Her voice brimming with indifference, she asked,

What tube? His steady gaze seemed to size her up. You know, the underground. He turned on a charming smile. You're not annoyed with me, are you? Of course not. She certainly wouldn't admit that to him. I just forgot the British term for subway. His nearness flustered her. How could she regain her equilibrium? And as for my clothes, I had an important meeting today. Not everyone is on vacation. As an excuse not to look at him, she fumbled through her handbag. Where had her manners gone? She talked like a shrew. In different people, pent-up pressure had divergent ways of escaping. The good Lord above knew she'd had more than her share of pressure. But why did her repressed frustrations have to worm their way out now? > Gripping her upper arm as if he had a right to, Alex steered her across the street. Snappish today, aren't you? Perhaps a bit of lunch is in order. Do you like Greek? She had to hustle to keep up with him. His long stride left her half breathless. Greek food? Yes, I do. ButHe commandeered her as easily as moving a feather and set their course down the street. After walking through a knot of Asian students who were doggedly following a tour guide, Alex smiled at her. No talking until we eat. I can tell you're one of

those who require food to be civil. This time the treat's on me. Before she could reply, he somehow weaved her past the ever-present sidewalk construction, past the crowd congregated around a steel-drum street musician, and up a flight of stairs into a cool, dark restaurant. The Aegean. Spicy aromas tantalized her senses. By the time her eyes adapted to the dusky lighting, they were sitting in spindle-legged wooden chairs at a tiny table. Blinking, she patted at her heart. Goodness, Alex! You're fast! In some areas, I am notoriously fast. He raked her with his blue-eyed gaze. In others, I take my time. He was flirting with her? She flushed. No one had flirted with her since her marriage. Her skills at man/woman repartee were rusty. She could have easily been a gauche fifteen-year-old. But it felt good. She felt desirable. As he continued to gaze at her, warm tingles fluttered in her midsection. Her heart beat faster. Despite his grunge approach to wardrobe, he was a hunk. One hundred percent prime beef. Self-assured, confident, and...sexy. Although the restaurant's air conditioning blasted Arctic air throughout the room, her body temperature soared. To avoid looking at him, she glanced around the room. The Middle Eastern influence was evident

in the decor. Paintings of lavish, domed buildings decorated the walls, while waitresses clad in skimpy belly-dancing outfits flitted back and forth from the tables to the kitchen. As the girls' hips swayed, the coins that dangled from their belts jingled seductively. The atmosphere was so convincingly Greek that if the outside window hadn't exposed a normal view of downtown Manhattan, she would have been convinced she'd stepped into another world. When she turned back toward him, he reached up and gently removed her sunglasses. I need to see your eyes, he murmured. She dropped her gaze, but he lifted her chin. His touch sent waves of hot sensations surging through her. Explosive sensations. She swallowed a ragged breath. Searching her eyes, he pronounced, Warm brown. Doe eyes flecked with gold. He released her chin. I like your eyes, Cassidy. Then, to her consternation, he linked their hands. Her stomach dropped away and her mouth suddenly dried. He was getting too personal. And her body was starting to betray her. Ah, this is an interesting place, Alex. I've worked near here for three years, and I've never heard of The Aegean. She reclaimed her hand. How did you find it? How long have you been in New York? He signaled for a waitress. Still playing Sherlock

Holmes, I see. Are you ready to order? She'd been put in her place, and so effectively, like he'd had years of practice. But why was he so secretive? After scanning the menu, she consulted her watch. I'll just have a salad. Have to get back pretty soon. You must live dangerously, Cassidy. You're ruled by the clock. We've only just arrived. Have a souvlaki or a falafel. At the very least, a gyro. Yes, you'll have a gyro. A dark-eyed waitress with a cascade of raven curls hovered over them. Dressed in a fringed bikini top and sheer balloon-style pants, she looked lush and provocative. Cassidy should have felt threatened. After all, what woman could compete with such a sultry temptress? But the odd thing was she didn't feel threatened. Alex gave the server nothing more than a perfunctory glance. Hérete, kiría. Pos eísthe? > The waitress' soulful eyes lit up. She responded in rapid-fire Greek. Cassidy couldn't blame her for her enthusiasm. Not too many finger-licking good hunks could speak another language. He nodded politely, and closed the menu. Two gyros and two Spartan beers, please. Parakaló. > The woman smiled broadly, a bright flash of white against her tanned skin and then left to turn in the order, giving him a backwards glance as she

entered the kitchen. Cassidy also smiled, though not as ear to ear as the waitress had. She couldn't blame the woman. Alex was quite the charmer. I'm impressed. Where did you learn Greek? By his casual shrug, she could tell he belittled his accomplishment. Here and there. I've been around. Just said good afternoon, madam, and asked her how she was. Which was more than Cassidy could say in Greek! She tapped her chin. I noticed you overruled my menu choice. His high-handedness didn't bother her, though. It was kind of cute, in a teddy bear sort of way. I'm used to taking charge. He smiled back at her. Her heart thumped again. With a smile like that, she had no doubt he'd be used to having things his way. When the beers arrived, he lifted his mug. A toast. To an unorthodox meeting and an unorthodox young woman. Trying to avoid the foam, she sipped her beer and involuntarily grimaced at the bitter taste. Strong. A brief shudder traveled through her. Now suppose you tell me why you think I'm unorthodox. If he thought she was unconventional, what did he consider himself? His shabby clothes visibly clashed with his debonair manner. Just who was the real Alex Smith?

He held both her hands and slowly massaged her knuckles. Well, my dear, you don't usually accept assignations from vagabonds, do you? She let him continue the massage. He stimulated more than just her hands! Is that what you are, a vagabond? Leaning closer, he rubbed the inside of her palms with his thumbs. She suddenly felt so strange, so relaxed, so…alarmed! In desperation, she pulled away and took another drink. Her hands safely around the mug, she looked at him again. The skin around his eyes crinkled. Her naïveté obviously amused him. Not exactly. As he stroked his beard, she had the feeling he was appraising her. Taking her measure. What criteria was he using? Did she pass the test? Their gyros arrived, interrupting his scrutiny. Concentrating on the lamb-filled pocket of pita bread, Cassidy took a bite. Slivers of meat and fragrant, pungent sauce escaped from the open end. She sighed. He didn't trust her. He harbored some kind of secret about his background and he didn't trust her enough to tell her. Why? Was he an illegal alien? A British spy? A criminal mastermind? Her hunger vanished. Just her luck to become interested in someone who reeked of deep, dark intrigues. She pushed her hair back behind her ear. No. She

wouldn't get involved with someone who wasn't on the up-and-up. No more lies, deceit, and fairy tales. She'd had enough of that with Bruce. She couldn't put herself in that position again. If Alex Smith wasn't as open as the proverbial book, she wanted nothing to do with him. Nothing. After she checked her watch, she reached for her sunglasses. Sorry to cut this short, but I do have to get going. Thanks forHe seized her wrist. Stay. The word hovered somewhere between a request and a command. She tried to pull her arm back, but he held her tightly. Did you know when you're angry, your eyes turn pure gold? This time his voice was like a caress, and she sucked in a quick breath. Please, he said softly, finish your lunch. As suddenly as he had snatched her wrist, he released it. The impression of his strong grip burned red against the white of her wrist. She hid her hand under the tablecloth and rubbed at her skin. Saying please was not something Alex did very often. She felt certain of it. Cassidy took a deep breath to calm down, then waited. Reaching over the table, he smoothed a strand of hair from her face. Did I hurt you? She glanced down at her wrist. The pink marks

had already faded. No. I didn't mean to, Cassidy. I must apologize again. His voice rang sincere. Placing her hands back on the table, she let him massage her wrist. I can't evade Madame Holmes any longer, so let me make amends. Alex raised her hand to his lips. As for what I do for a living, I am rather in between positions, enjoying a much-needed holiday. To answer your earlier questions, I have been in New York a week now. And I heard of this restaurant through a friend of a friend. Nothing devious here. He spread out his hands. Come, have dinner with me tonight, to celebrate my last day of freedom. Dinner and a play. On Monday, I must rejoin the work force. So you have a job lined up here in New York? Her professional interest was stirred. And her private interest as well. If he had a job here, that meant he wouldn't be returning to England. She mentally reviewed the current open positions at her company. Is the job what you want? I work in a personnel office, and I might haveHe laughed, but she could tell by the hollow sound that there was no joy in it. Is it what I want? What an original idea! I'm told that I must do my duty, and so I shall. However, I'll do it on my terms. His shoulders slumped, and he waved his hand as if

to dismiss his livelihood. But you haven't given me your answer about dinner. Will you join me? Things were moving so fast. She caught her lower lip on the edge of her teeth. What should she say? As if he could read her mind, he urged, Say 'yes.' I promise to behave like a gentleman. The sparkle in his eyes seemed to promise something else. She licked her lip. All right. On one condition. A condition? You American women drive a hard bargain. Tell me your condition. She had his full attention, which drove her own concentration out the window. Um, since you're not working, it's that we go Dutch. And after dinner, we can buy half-price tickets for a Broadway show right in Times Square. He leaned closer, almost nose to nose. His woodsy, masculine aftershave made her head spin. Beautiful and frugal. You're one in a million, Cassidy. This promises to be a most unusual evening. Twirling a lock of her hair around his finger, he smiled. Agreed. She looked down at her hands. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. She'd never understood that expression before, but good heavens, it certainly fit what she was feeling. He finished his beer. I'll pick you up about six o'clock at your apartment. Where do-

No. During rush hour it takes me an hour to get home after work. There won't be enough time. I'll meet you at the City Hall Park around six. After work, she'd buy a change of clothes. Something comparable to his own casual attire. Work! She'd forgotten about work! Checking her watch, she cringed. Fifteen past one. She gulped hard. Unlike most of the key personnel at Haydon-Smith's, her supervisor, Frank Lessor, was obsessed with time. Had he been old enough, he probably would've invented the punch clock. If he found her missing from her desk… Lessor used to be her co-worker. That had been insufferable enough, but now, newly promoted, he seemed to take perverse pleasure in berating her over any little infraction. Darn! She was in for it now. Standing, she grabbed her sunglasses. I really do have to run, Alex. I was due back at one o'clock. When he started to rise, she shook her head. I'll go on by myself. My supervisor is a real creep over lateness. I'll take a taxi back. Over her shoulder, she called back breathlessly, Thanks for the lunch. I'll see you at six. After successfully hailing a cab, she allowed herself to think about Alex. How strange he seemed when she'd mentioned her lateness, almost as if he never had to worry about mundane things like lunch hours, time constraints, and

pleasing upper management. ~*~ Looking on as Cassidy hurried out the restaurant door, Alex ordered another beer. She'd left him. Before he had a chance to say half the things he'd planned, she left him-like a bridegroom at the altar. When his beer arrived, he took a long swig. Bridegroom, altar…What a grim analogy. Still, he was experiencing some of the same emotions: surprise, frustration…regret. She'd only been gone minutes, and already he missed her sweet fragrance, her honest eyes, her rose petal cheeks. Lord, he could catalogue her virtues out to infinity. What hold did she have over him? What set her apart from all the other women he'd met? The scantily clad waitress jingled over to him, then bent down low, low enough to reveal the hollow between two plump breasts. Do you see anything else you would like, sir? Quite a suggestive question, but one that he heard many times. If Cassidy ever uttered those words, she would say them guilelessly, unaware of the sexual undertone. How innocent she was, blushing furiously when he held her hands. As he thought of Cassidy, he smiled and the waitress smiled in return. She misunderstood. He shook his head. No thank you, kiría. Just bring me the bill, please.

Ignoring the woman's departing pout, he reached into his pocket and removed a wad of American money. He peeled off a twenty and placed it under his beer mug. After glancing at his watch, he made his way to the cashier. Two o'clock. Cassidy must be at work by now. How did she fare with her creep of a supervisor? Creep. Alex laughed. He liked that word, and he more than liked the woman who had said it. Shoving his hands into his jean pockets, he sighed. He had four hours to kill until he could see her again. ~*~ Just as Cassidy entered the main Personnel Office, her assistant, Erica, grabbed her arm. Cassidy! Oh, Cassidy. I tried to cover for you but you know how he is. Erica didn't need to identify who he was. Gosh. With all the unpaid overtime you put in, it's just not fair for him to go on the warpath. As she twirled the ends of her long, thick, blonde braid, Erica's hand shook. He's positively frothing at the mouth! Cassidy sighed. No matter what she did, Frank Lessor took exception to it. With the other staff, he had a more balanced attitude. With her, he ranted and raged. Too bad he was the one who had to give the nod on her upcoming pay raise. She had no doubt that he would stamp denied on

the paperwork. Over and over again. And take great pleasure in doing so. She patted Erica's hand. The dear girl had enough to think about. Being the single parent of a two-year-old boy, she didn't need to waste any energy fretting about Cassidy. Don't worry about it. Today's no different from any other day with Frank. I presume he's waiting for me in his office? Erica gulped, then whispered, Yes. The poor kid's dark eyes misted with tears. She barely looked old enough to attend high school, let alone work a responsible job and care for a baby. Cassidy gave her assistant a hug and a smile. Frank'll calm down. He always does. Remember, I've worked with him a long time. I'll be okay. After Erica returned to her desk, Cassidy tightened her lips. She needed this job, but a person shouldn't have to put up with harassment like Frank dished out. She'd put up with Bruce's offensive behavior. That had been her first mistake. She wasn't going to put up with Frank's. Not anymore. She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders as she made her way to his office. She paused outside the door and caught his secretary's sympathetic look. It helped to strengthen Cassidy's resolve. Frank sat behind a huge mahogany desk, his feet propped on the top of it. Everything was neat and orderly in his office. Every time she entered, she couldn't help but think of the old cliché: 'a place

for everything and everything in its place.' A spiral notepad topped with a ball-point pen always rested in the lower right corner of his desk. The mahogany in-box always contained two papers-never more, never less. Compulsive, he probably hated any break in his routine. So, Bannon, you've finally decided to return to work. His thick lips stretched into a grotesque smile, almost reaching ear to ear. She gritted her teeth. Romanelli, Frank. I dropped my married name seven months ago. As if he didn't remember. When he wanted to raise her bile, he always called her by Bruce's last name. Oh. Right, I forgot. Have a seat, Romanelli. It's time we had a chat about your performance. He smoothed his hand over his close-cropped platinum hair. It was so pale, it was almost invisible. Maybe that was why he constantly touched it. To reassure himself it was really there. Have a seat. It was a command. Choosing a chair with a button-tufted back, she obeyed and found herself looking up at him-which was odd. She and Frank differed in height by only three inches. Had he somehow adjusted the chair to sit nearer to the floor to intimidate others? How immature! She smiled. And I'm supposed to pretend I don't notice?> Suppose you enlighten me on your amusement.

This flagrant habit of deserting your desk for hours at a time is certainly not a laughing matter. It didn't pay to argue. What would be the point? What do you want to talk to me about? Her calmness must have caught him off guard. He stood, clasped his hands behind his expensively-tailored, brown-striped suit, then paced his large office. Why, your lateness, of course. Do you denyThis whole thing about lateness is ridiculous and you know it. Especially considering all the extra hours I put in. She put her hands on the chair and started to rise. Now, if there's nothing else, I have to get back to work. He stopped in front of her. That's precisely it. Work. You have lots of it to do. Have you prepared the best qualified list for the consultant position? It's due on Monday. IToday, Romanelli. The Board of Directors wants it today. She stared up at him dry-mouthed. His smile curved up wickedly. Yes, if you had been at your desk as you are paid to be, you would've seen the memo. Today? She sagged in the cushioned chair. I can't possibly have it done today. I planned on coming in over the weekend. He leaned over her, much too close for comfort.

She hated the smell of his musk cologne. She hated the sight of his Italian leather shoes. Right now, she hated him! Here's where I rescued your butt, Romanelli. The Board wants to show Haydon-Smith the list Monday morning. Mr. Big Cheese is scheduled to arrive at nine o'clock. But the Board wants to review the list first. Having it ready today is impossible, of course, so I told them I'd help you, work with you tonight and tomorrow. I promised them the list on Sunday. Her head pounded. Didn't anything ever go right? Tonight and tomorrow spent in close quarters with Frank Lessor? She shuddered. Then the pain in her head increased. What about Alex? Alex! Crossing her legs, she pulled the skirt of her dress over her knees. I've other plans for tonight. But I'll come in first thing tomorrow. I'll have it ready by Sunday, promise. It would be a grueling Saturday, but she'd manage. Somehow she'd get the list done. The red of heated blood mottled Frank's face. Other plans? Heavens, he was fit to be tied. His voice must have carried four floors in either direction. The demands of the job come first. Always has, always will. So what the hell other plans do you have?

She didn't have to explain her off time to him. This wasn't the military. Clapping the palm of his hand to his forehead, he groaned. Oh, I see. Forgive me for being obtuse. That new dress. Those bright blue shoes. He had the audacity to finger the material on her sleeve. Silk. You have a date, don't you, Romanelli? She whipped out of the chair and stared him in the eye. Don't you cross a line here, Frank. You're down one personnel specialist as it is with Dunkirk out sick. I don't think you want to lose me, too. She let that thought sink in. Narrowing her gaze, she added, I'll work until five-fifteen. Tomorrow, I'll be back about eight in the morning. I promise I can get that list done by the end of the day. You know I can do it. We've worked under tighter deadlines before. She crossed her fingers behind her back. And besides, if I fail, you can have my firstborn child, okay? The light touch of humor eased the tension a bit and Frank massaged the top of his head. That really wasn't funny. Cassidy didn't respond. Finally he sighed. Okay, agreed. Fine. Superhuman energy propelled her out of Frank's office. Her eyes must have blazed gold, pure gold. Damn the man. Just damn him! Her first date in forever, her first excitement, and Frank had to throw a monkey wrench in it. Fists tightly clenched, she whizzed by the rest of

the staff seeing only a blur. Waving a lying thumbs up to Erica, Cassidy gratefully entered her office and closed the door. But she wasn't alone. Jennie sat at the metal desk, filing her nails. She looked up. Cassi, I heard. Everyone heard Lessor chewing you out. Sinking into the chrome-legged chair, Cassidy exhaled. Great. That makes me feel so much better. Jennie waved her hand as if chasing away a pesky fly. Forget about him. He's an asshole. But I do think he has a thing for you. Cassidy sputtered. A-A thing? Yeah, you know, the hots. Three months ago, he asked me if you were seeing anyone. And his eyes always seem to turn in your direction. His icy, pale blue eyes. Cassidy felt nauseous. Jennie snapped her gum. He does have a tight butt. Please, spare me! Cassidy swallowed a bit of bile. Anyway, Jennie continued quickly, I'm here to tell you the latest about our new fearless leader, Mr. A. E. Haydon-Smith. He plans to hold a huge staff meeting and give us his philosophy on the communications business. Then he's going to visit every department. And shake each and every employee's hand. Mine included. She blew on her nails, then rubbed them against her shiny peach blouse. Peach? Peach clashed

with bright red hair. Cassidy winced. Jennie outlined her lips with her tongue. You may be looking at the next Mrs. Haydon-Smith! Get real, Cassidy retorted. How many ex-wives have there been? Jennie shrugged. Who cares? Strutting to the door, she gave Cassidy the once over. Nice dress. Buy it for anyone special? Cassidy shook her head. No. Have a good weekend. A low I will drifted through the now-closed glass door. The quiet hum of the air conditioner served as a balm for her shattered nerves. Sitting behind her desk, she moaned softly. The best qualified list was due Sunday. She had to go to work tomorrow. And according to Jennie, Frank Lessor had the hots for her. If that were true, he certainly had a bizarre way of showing it. And on Monday, the head honcho of Haydon-Smith Communications was going to enlighten the staff on his personal philosophy of business. Bully for him. He'll probably bore everyone to tears. Cassidy twisted her lips. She could do without meeting Mr. A. E. Haydon-Smith. But she couldn't wait to see Alex again.

Chapter Three > At five-fifteen, Cassidy walked into the ladies' restroom, brushed back her hair and applied another coat of bronze lipstick. She smacked her lips to distribute the color. Almost everyone had gone for the day. By five o'clock on Fridays, the entire staff of Haydon-Smith's usually emptied onto the Manhattan streets. By five-twenty, she would join them. In the mirror, her eyes reflected back a rich brown, only a faint sprinkling of gold marred their deep color. She sprayed a tiny spritz of perfume, then rubbed her wrists together. The sweet fragrance of lilacs filled the lounge area. She smiled. At six, she would meet Alex and have a night out on the town. It had been so long since she'd cut loose-so long since she had fun. Twirling around on the beige and green tiled floor, she watched the silk skirt of her dress airily float on the breeze. The adventure of going out with a guy she just met certainly agreed with her. Maybe she should do this more often. She'd stop at the little boutique down the block and pick up some casual clothes to wear. Casual clothes to match super casual Alex. A mental image of her bearded, rogue sea captain popped into her mind. Or maybe he reminded her more of a pirate. In any case, what would his beard feel like when she kissed him? Kiss him? Would she kiss him? She grinned. The

answer to that was a resounding Yes! Clicking her handbag closed, she left the restroom and entered the empty corridor. About to press the Down elevator button, she heard her name. Romanelli, Romanelli! I'm glad I caught you. Frank Lessor hustled down the hallway waving a piece of paper. She glanced at her watch. What is it, Frank? Her voice sounded less than welcoming. After he reached her, he wiped his forehead with his hand, not stopping until he had covered the curve of his head. How would touching his hair feel? She shivered. Bristly. He held the paper in front of her nose. Got bad news for you. The Board insists on having the list of applicants for the consultant position by tomorrow afternoon. They demand it. He allowed his pale blue eyes to pierce her. Not my doing. We have no choice. You must work late tonight. Cassidy scanned the memo. It was signed by the bigwigs-right at the bottom-in black and white. Damn! She returned his stare. Had he been responsible for upping the deadline on this job? He fingered the collar of his white linen shirt. Sorry to spoil your plans, but this is a priority, andJust stop, please. She couldn't trust herself to say any more. Of all

the days Haydon-Smith had to pick for his visit, he had to pick this Monday. Obviously the higher ups were running around without a clue. Panic city. The atmosphere was bound to get awfully thick around here next week with insincere praises, brown nosing, and self-inflated egos. Her lower lip trembled. All she wanted to do was go out with Alex. Was that too much to ask? Romanelli? Frank regarded her with raised blonde eyebrows. He almost looked human. She twisted her lips. All right. Consider it done. She really didn't have a choice. Walking fast, she turned and pointed at him. But at five forty-five, I have to leave to cancel my plans in person. Should be back in a half an hour. Couldn't you just phone your, er, date? Opening her office door, she waited until he entered, then slammed it shut. The glass door rattled. No. I'll leave at five forty-five. Is that okay with you? After handing him a stack of applications and a qualification sheet, she sat at her desk and ignored him. He dropped a twenty dollar bill next to her hand. Fine. Pick us up a pizza then, for dinner. I like pepperoni. As she put away the money, she caught his gaze. She could swear his eyes were gleaming with triumph. ~*~

Approaching the park bench where Alex stood waiting, Cassidy slowed her pace. He had his back to her, so she took a moment to consider what she'd say. Would he understand that she had no choice but to stay late at work? These days, a good job was hard to come by. He should know that. He'd been unemployed. She took a deep breath and walked toward him, admiring the broad expanse of shoulders. How strange that she should so look forward to his company when she'd known him for such a brief while. She touched his arm. Hi. He swung around, giving her a heart-wrenching smile. Her knees actually wobbled! This is for you, Cassidy. He held out a single, perfect pink rose. It reminds me of your cheeks. He brushed a soft kiss against her cheekbone. For a second, she froze. Bruce had never given her flowers. It was such a treat. Th-Thank you. Taking the flower, she smelled its sweet fragrance. She flushed. You shouldn't have. And why not? I have been patiently waiting to see you again. His smile crinkled the skin around his eyes. Or, more truthfully, impatiently waiting! He took her hand and gestured toward the bench. Let's sit and make our plans. At his touch, she flinched, as if Cupid lanced her heart with an arrow right there and then. Alex Smith was too good to be true. What woman could

resist such tender sentiments? She sat down, but she'd have to disappoint him-disappoint him and herself. Taking a deep breath, she blurted out, I'm afraid something's come up at work. I have to cancel out for tonight, butWhy? He folded his arms across his chest. His blue eyes turned stormy, and his voice cooled. A rash of goose bumps rose on her arms. She leaned away from him. The Board of Directors at my company wants a special project completed by tomorrow afternoon. I just found out about it-I have to work late to finish it. I-I don't have a choice. He drummed his fingers against the bench plank. The wood almost sounded hollow. The silence was unsettling. What was he thinking? Unflattering thoughts? Look, I want to go with you, Alex. Believe me, I really do. Then why don't you? She tapped her foot against the concrete sidewalk. Because I don't want to get fired. Call me crazy, but I like having a roof over my head and food to eat. He was being unreasonable, but what did she expect? Most men became unreasonable when their desires were thwarted. If she had any sense, she'd just forget the whole thing. She should just get up and leave. But she couldn't. The part of her that still believed in fairy tales-the part of her that

still needed fairy tales-wanted so desperately for this man to truly be different. Her anger extinguished, she quickly suggested, How about tomorrow night instead? He stroked his beard. This is the first time anyone has chosen work over me, Cassidy. I don't think I care for the experience. He said that haltingly, as if it really was the first time. How strange. Well, it's about time you joined the rest of us then, Alex. Long overdue, I'd say. Raising his eyebrow, he added, No one's ever run out on me at a restaurant. To take the sting out of her words, she reached over and touched his arm. His hard sinuous muscles rippled under his shirt. I didn't intend to cancel our plans, or to run out on you. Surely you understand that I've got to put work first. A challenge. He ran his finger down the length of her cheek. I clearly see the task set before me. Work before pleasure. Duty before desire. If you only knew how foolish that sounds. It has been exactly that-work and duty-that I've been escaping this past week. Unfortunately, I can't escape forever. He cupped her chin in his large hands, his roughened fingers caressing her cheek. Work and duty are not for you, my dear Cassidy. I vow to change your priorities. I intend to become number one on your list. She stared at him. He couldn't be serious. They'd

just met. They'dHe captured her lips in a sudden kiss, crushing her against his chest. A tiny part of her mind protested, urging her to pull away. But the rest of her ignored her own warning, ignored the fact that they were sitting on a very public park bench. What happened to the rest of the world didn't matter now. Her universe had been reduced to a heated embrace on a graffiti-carved bench. She curved her arms around him to reduce the universe even further, then ran her fingers through his thick hair. His beard tickled and teased her skin. She'd never realized a beard could be so erotic. A ragged sigh escaped him. Parting her lips with his tongue, he explored the inside of her mouth. Her heart drummed a primitive, crescendo-building beat. She tingled in pulsating waves all the way down to her toes. She'd never felt these sweeping, mind-numbing sensations with Bruce. All her reservations were swept aside by this handsome, demanding stranger. He slid his hands down her arms, then released her. She blinked, then blinked again. A surge of dizziness overtook her. Gripping the wooden plank on which she sat, she stared at him until she could, once more, call her body her own. For a few seconds, she had been lost. Red-faced, she must have had a red-face, she glanced around the park. Thank goodness nobody appeared to have noticed this very public display

of passion. Or maybe New Yorkers were too well schooled to let the unusual disturb them. Either way, she couldn't believe her own wanton behavior. There, I've given you something to think about, haven't I? He sat back, looking pleased. But, if she wasn't mistaken, she spotted an intentness in his gaze. And heard a slight breathlessness to his words. He wasn't so unaffected by what had just passed between them. Stroking the soft rose petals with her fingertips, she murmured, I have to go now. But she remained on the bench. Tell me, Cassidy, what are you afraid of? Afraid? That was rich. Right now she was afraid of making a fool of herself over a man she just met. A man she knew almost nothing about. A man who could manipulate her innermost emotions with an urgent kiss or a darting tongue. Not answering him, she studied her hands. I do have to go. What about tomorrow night? He sighed. Ah, Cassidy, my freedom ends tonight. Duty calls me tomorrow...and Sunday. Engagements I cannot break. All for a worthy cause. He sighed again. Lifting his eyebrow, he appeared rakish. Unless, of course, I could come to your place after my, er, chores, are done. About two A.M.? What do you say?

I say no, of course. What kind of chores ran until two in the morning? But even if she asked, she knew he wouldn't tell her. Why do you want to come over? Are you tired of sleeping on your sister's couch? He leaned closer. Actually, I wasn't thinking about sleeping, exactly. She flushed. She couldn't think with him so near. Inhaling, she tried to calm her overstimulated body. As noisy as the rush hour traffic was, all she could hear was the beating of her heart. And the ticking of the second hand on her wristwatch. Time. The minutes were ticking away. Frank Lessor was probably rolling in a slow boil by now, waiting for her. She recalled his look of triumph. Let him wait. No, that's not a good idea, Alex. The last thing she needed was to jump into bed with someone she'd just met. But Alex wasn't just anyone. And that scared her. Standing, she straightened her dress. Then she fidgeted with the neckline. She needed something to concentrate on. I guess that's that, then. He also stood. I deserved that. I was beyond clumsy. Consider me rebuked. He ran his hand over his hair. Please. Could we at least try? Give me your phone number and I'll ring you. Taking her hand, he slowly massaged her skin. I don't even know your last name-although, to be perfectly honest, I might want to change it to

'Smith.' After he said that, he looked as surprised as she felt. Maybe he hadn't planned to come out with that outrageous statement. She pulled her hand away and glared at him. No, thank you! No marriages for me. She didn't take him seriously. He was all talk, anyway. Nobody ever got married after only a two day acquaintance. But did she want him to call her? Her heart and mind warred with each other. For once, she listened to the voice of reason. Sorry. I have an unlisted number. And I want to keep it that way. She turned to go. Even the word marriage was unsettling. He grabbed her arm. Through the thin silk material, she felt the warmth of his hand. How will I find you? When will I see you again? Tilting her head, she waited. If he wanted to see her again, let him think of a way. As if he understood her intent, he nodded. All right. Another date. Here in this park. On Monday at six o'clock. Agreed? She brushed her hair back, then smiled. Agreed. Shaking her hand to seal the arrangement, he then kissed the sensitive skin on the inside of her wrist.

She gasped. The sensation of his warm lips traveled down her arm, into her inner core. His slow grin teased her. Until Monday. On unsteady legs, she left him, hurrying back to the relative safety of her office and Frank Lessor. ~*~ Again, Alex watched Cassidy's retreating form. This was getting to be a habit. Sitting back on the park bench, he exhaled, letting his disappointment out with a swish of air. Maybe he should follow her and get her to change her mind? He stood and spotted a flash of bright blue from her dress. Then she was gone. He sank back down. No, she wouldn't appreciate him pursuing her. He'd already made two mistakes in the past ten minutes. He didn't need to add a third. How could he have suggested going over to her place at two in the morning? That was crass. Of course she turned him down. She wasn't the kind of woman who settled for a liaison conducted during the darkest hours of the night. She deserved more. But he couldn't help himself, the words had just come out. Just as his inane comment change her name to Smith, had darted out. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows against his knees. Where had that sentiment come from? Fortunately, she hadn't taken him seriously. That could've been a close call.

He frowned. She certainly was adamant against marriage. What did she have against the wedded state? A bristly-faced old man shuffled up to the bench. His baggy pants were tightly belted around his emaciated waist, and his skeletal arms hung down from extra wide shirt sleeves. Alex immediately dug his hand into his pocket. This poor soul probably hadn't eaten for days. Keep yer money, son. That's not why I come over. The old man's hacking wheeze contained the heavy aroma of whisky. Alex bit back his smile. No? Then to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? The old codger's wheeze turned into a hoarse laugh. He then wiped a tear from his red-rimmed eyes. A foreigner, ain't you? You look like you could use a few bills yerself. Well, son, I come to give you a piece of advice. He pointed a bony finger at Alex. I saw you and that young filly going at it a short while ago. She's a looker, she is. Alex let his gaze wander up Broadway to the last spot where he'd seen her. Yes, she is. Turning to face the old man again, Alex saw the glint of humor in the rheumy eyes. The man smiled, She's a rare one, too. My advice to you, sonny, is to not let that one get away! Standing, Alex reached into his pocket, then opened the old man's shaking hand and gave him some bills. Here, old man. That's good advice you

just gave me. I always pay for good advice. The man looked at the wad of money and his toothless mouth gaped wide. Heading out of the park, Alex called back over his shoulder. Make sure you have a nice, hot meal tonight. And don't worry, I do intend to follow your advice.

Chapter Four > Sitting in the vast presentation auditorium, Cassidy squirmed in the powder blue chair. She crossed her legs, then pulled down her black and white checkered skirt. Never good at waiting, she drummed her fingernails against the padded armrest. The announcement over the loudspeaker had ordered all Haydon-Smith employees to gather in the auditorium at ten-thirty sharp. Looking at the business-suited backs of over two hundred people, she saw that they all obeyed. Why wouldn't they? His Eminence desired to talk with the underlings. She wrinkled her nose. Her own words, of course, but she couldn't help resenting the man responsible for her aborted date with Alex. After spending another weekend alone, no wonder she stewed. Things might have turned out very differently if she'd gone to the theater with Alex.

Her wristwatch beeped on the hour of eleven. Folding her arms across her chest, she tapped her foot. And just where was Mr. Haydon-Smith? The sound of gum popping intruded on her thoughts. Jennie leaned over. I'm so excited, I could just spit! Did you know A. E. is a multi-millionaire? Cassidy looked down at her friend. Jennie's dress was about as far from business attire as clothes could get. Off-the-shoulder straps and a form-fitting cut revealed her plump curves. Every plump curve. She looked as if she needed to go home and have someone responsible, like her mother, redress her. Did all women react this way to Haydon-Smith? Imagine people fawning over you because of your position. Or because of your wealth. Not very helpful to one's self-esteem.> Cassidy felt a flash of sympathy for the man. A. E., is it? I had no idea you knew him that well. Oh, you're such a kidder. Jennie stretched up to view the front platform. These are lousy seats. We're so far away. We won't get to see him properly. From their seating in the back of the auditorium, the chairs and tables at the front of the room looked like furnishings for a doll house. True, but you'll hear him clearly enough, that's the important thing. A blur of motion caught Cassidy's gaze. Look, here he comes.

Despite her desire to remain indifferent, she gripped her chair's armrests. Her heart rate increased its tempo. As he stepped up on the platform, A. E. Haydon-Smith took her breath away. Literally. Talk about having a commanding presence! She gulped down some air. Not moving an inch, she whispered, Wow! Some hunk, Jennie returned. The rest of the audience must have agreed. The sudden silence in the room seemed almost deafening. While the company bigwigs sat at the chairs surrounding the podium, Haydon-Smith took his place behind the microphone. His light grey business suit highlighted his broad shoulders and narrow waist. The smooth line of his square jaw suggested strength and power. From here, he looked about thirty-one or thirty-two. Cassidy released her grip. Jennie had been right. From their distant position, they couldn't see him properly. And it was a real shame his face was just a blur. When he started speaking, she sat back to listen to his sound amplified speech. His British accent gave her a bit of a start, but of course, he was from England. How else would he sound? Although electronically distorted, his words contained the right mix of forward vision, praise, and inspiration. Suave, polished, and debonair. Either he knew how to motivate people, or he had a darn good scriptwriter.

His uncle, the old Chief Executive Officer, would have been proud to hear his nephew in action. Haydon-Smith Communications appeared to be in competent hands. She shrugged. Time would tell. An uneasy feeling crept over her. She was missing something, something important. Something to do with the new CEO. Crossing her legs, she glanced at her watch. Whatever was bothering her would have to wait. She wished this silver-tongued devil would hurry up so she could get back to work. ~*~ Standing at the window in his office, Alexander Edward Haydon-Smith rubbed at his newly shaven face. He missed his beard; he missed his casual clothes; but most of all he missed a certain charming young lady. Two social functions had claimed his attendance this past weekend. Two functions bursting with simpering debutantes, voluptuous divorcees, and power-hungry career women. He'd learned that New York females were no different from London females. Except for one, one refreshing woman named Cassidy. Last name unknown. He sighed. She was what he wanted, what he needed. Down-to-earth, conscientious, and infinitely desirable. Money seemed to make little difference to her. She'd offered to buy him lunch, wanted to go Dutch on their canceled date, and she'd even protested when he gave her a rose. He

never thought a woman like her existed. But then, what would she do when he revealed who he really was? In his office, he leaned against the window that stretched the length of one entire wall and stared down at the congested street scene below. Tiny people congregated in groups by the traffic lights, waiting for the signals to give them permission to cross. Cars that reminded him of Matchbox toys raced, swerved, and cut into different lanes only to screech to a halt when their signal lights blinked red. Because he contemplated their actions from fifty floors up, he felt far removed from them; as if he were watching a bustling ant farm. People scurrying around for no apparent reason. The beauty of it was that once he descended to street level, he too would become an ant, joining his brothers and sisters in the never-ending game of life. His executive assistant, John MacLean, cleared his throat, obviously impatient in the face of idle time. Hands clasped behind his back, Alex turned around. As blustery as a Scotsman's bagpipes, John was also just as loyal and true. What is it, John? Yer speech this mornin' went over verra well, A. E. Forward lookin,' conciliatory, emphasis on workin' together. A verra good impression with the workers. Yer grandpa and yer uncle, bless their

souls, are restin' easy in their graves. John flipped through his appointment book and made a notation. If yer other meetings go as smoothly, we'll be able t'wrap up early and head to Chicago on Thursday. No. Alex jammed his fists in the pockets of his double-breasted jacket. I need more time here. Since I'm the CEO now, I have to do the job my way. I'm a hands-on manager, not some society gadabout. He paced the length of the window. You know I've pledged to tour every department. Meet the employees. Learn their concerns. I intend to keep my word. John fiddled with his argyle tie; he always did when he grew troubled. But the Board of Directors said time was a verra important priority. They want yer face in Chicago, then Denver. Then there's San Francisco. Alex regarded his assistant through half-closed lids. John had worked for the first Haydon-Smith, Alex's grandfather. Then his uncle. And now Alex. Not that John was so old. He'd started with the company at the tender age of sixteen and now stood on the lighter side of forty. But, Lord, sometimes his ways were set in concrete. John didn't understand. The Board might want Alex to perform like a bear at a circus, but that didn't mean he was going to agree. He was different from his uncle. As he'd pledged earlier, he would run the business his way, or not at all. He wanted that understood from the start.

His scrutiny must have disturbed John because he flipped his tie out from the safety of his vest. Scrambling to return the neckwear to its proper place, his face turned as red as his hair. John was a good man. He just had to realign his loyalties. Either he worked for Alex, or he worked for the Board. Alex raised his eyebrow. If the Board has a problem with my itinerary, they can discuss it with me or they can choose another CEO. It wasn't as simple as that. It could never be as simple as that, but Alex spoke from the heart. That threat effectively silenced his assistant. John pushed his black-framed glasses back up his nose and cleared his throat. Fine, A. E. Verra good. So where do you want t'start? Alex consulted his gold watch. Four o'clock. In two hours, he'd see Cassidy again. The woman who thought him little more than a street beggar. The woman who had overcome her aversion to his outward appearance by looking a little closer, a little deeper. How would she react when she saw him as he really was? She wouldn't disappoint him. He was certain of that. She wouldn't turn on a false smile and count the gold coins in his pockets. The old man in the park had been right. She was a rare woman, indeed. John cleared his throat again. Daydreaming, eh, Smith? Alex bit back a grin. And why not? Cassidy was one woman worth

daydreaming about. She seemed shy, though. Too shy and vulnerable for someone so beautiful. She must have been hurt in the past. A man must have trampled her trusting nature and left suspicion in its place. Perhaps that was why she bristled at the mention of marriage.> Not that he was interested in marrying. The taste of her sweet lips came back to him. If he got his way, as he usually did, tonight he'd taste those lips again…and more. But back to business. Alex pulled out a yellow legal-sized pad and made a tick mark next to the first entry. Let's start with getting the childcare program underway. Everything was in place to open a company facility, but I have here that the Board got cold feet and nixed the idea. I'm going to overrule them. I want you to make sure we have all the necessary licenses and required renovations to get this program up and running as soon as possible. And, John, I want this kept quiet. > Ach, quiet 'til we're invaded by tiny tikes and nappies. John groaned. Verra well. Next? Alex smiled at his assistant's obvious reluctance to get involved with dirty diapers. Next is Personnel. In fact, ring up the head administrator now. I have a few questions on that consulting position. John referred to his pocket directory, then punched in a number on the telephone. After an exchange, he placed his hand over the speaker,

and said, Personnel officer's gone for the day. Want t'see the specialist? Sitting down at the custom-built oak desk, Alex nodded. Have him come up. John relayed the message. He replaced the phone in its cradle, then headed out the door. By the way, 'tis a woman, a Ms. Romanelli. Alex concentrated on the paperwork in front of him, grunting a reply. This Romanelli woman had better be brief and to the point. He didn't want to be late for his six o'clock rendezvous. ~*~ Cassidy hung up the phone, then tapped her fingernails against its smooth plastic exterior. Why would the new head honcho want to talk about the consulting position in Research and Development? Had he found something wrong? Did he find fault with the best qualified list? Was her job on the line? She shuddered. No sense getting paranoid. Haydon-Smith probably had a simple question. She'd answer it, then return to her office to wrap things up for the day. But if the question was so simple, why did he want to see her in person? Not you, Romanelli. Frank. Haydon-Smith wanted to talk to Frank. That was supposed to make her feel better, but it didn't. Standing, she brushed the wrinkles from

her skirt, picked a piece of lint from her matching jacket, and straightened the rayon collar on her ivory blouse. A glance at her watch confirmed she'd wasted enough time. She patted her hair down and decided against reapplying her lipstick. Might send the wrong message, like she wanted him to notice her as a woman. Resigned to the inevitable, she picked up the folder containing the notes for the job and left her office. Outside, Jennie sat on the edge of an empty desk. Her curly red hair glistened under the florescent office lights. I've been waiting for you. She tugged at the hemline of her dress, a futile effort. The dress would no more cover her knees than a taxicab would yield the right of way to a pedestrian. Whispering, Jennie leaned closer. I hear you're going upstairs to see Mr. Hunk himself. Good news travels fast. Cassidy frowned. Trust Jennie to weave romance into a business meeting. Jennie shook a finger. Now, Cassi, you can say I'm jumping the gun, but on his first day here, he wants to see you. Make the most of it, girl! She didn't set her friend straight. What would've been the point? Jennie believed what she wanted to believe. Cassidy said teasingly, I thought you wanted him for yourself. You're relinquishing your

claim? Her red head bent, Jennie pawed through her tiny leather purse. Don't be silly. Us girls have to stick together. Then she lifted her head to squint at Cassidy. You look pale. You need some lipstick. How about some perfume? Parfum d' Amour. It's guaranteed to knock the socks off men. Cassidy laughed. I prefer my men with socks. Remembering Alex's rubber-thonged feet, she grinned. Bare feet did have a certain appeal. Okay, okay, you can laugh. Jennie checked the overhead clock, then gave Cassidy a push toward the elevators. Jeez! You'd better get going. Inside the elevator, she smiled. Her friend's constant emphasis on romance had lightened Cassidy's mood. With luck, she'd zip through this meeting, impress the hell out of the new CEO, and walk out with a huge raise. Yeah, right. She stepped out onto the fiftieth floor, then waited until the elevator door swished closed. With shoulders straightened, she headed for the reception desk. > An unfamiliar, fair-haired older woman looked up. Haydon-Smith must have brought her from London. The nameplate on her desk read, Miss Lavinia Lithgow. Hello. I'm Cassidy Romanelli, here to see Mr. Haydon-Smith. The woman gave Cassidy an impersonal glance,

then used the intercom. A Miss Romanelli to see you, sir. A man's distorted voice barked out of the speaker. Send her in. Mr. Haydon-Smith will see you now, the intimidating Miss Lavinia Lithgow intoned. The woman's voice was as inviting as a dip in the wintry ocean-frigid. Taking a deep breath, Cassidy nodded, and approached the double doors. For some strange reason, her courage fled and her heart took refuge in her mouth. Why was she feeling paranoid again?

Chapter Five > Cassidy stepped onto the plush grey carpet and almost lost her balance. The thick pile nearly covered the tops of her black shoes. Luxurious. So this was how the other half-the rich half-lived. Across the room, Mr. Haydon-Smith sat at a huge oak desk. Writing at an incredible pace, he stopped to flip a few pages in his yellow pad. After referring to some information, he returned to his original document. He ignored her. Effectively put in her place as the hired help, she waited for him to acknowledge her presence. She tapped her foot, but it made no sound in the plush carpeting. Since he continued with his scribbling,

she looked around his office. The whole back wall was lined with windows, the view providing a beautiful backdrop. To the south rose the historic spire of Trinity Church. To the west, in between the skyscrapers, she could spot a small patch of blue water. The Hudson River. As she watched, lazy seagulls rode the wind, hovering over the man-made mountains. She sighed. Maybe it was a good thing that her office didn't have windows. She could stare out at this view for hours. But the office's decor was modern. Too modern for her tastes. Everything; couches, chairs, side tables, lamps, even the paintings on the walls were either white, black, or shades of grey. The only splash of color came from the mammoth oak desk. She returned her gaze to Haydon-Smith who was still bent over his work. He wore a light grey suit, white shirt, and black and grey tie. As he wrote, his meticulously cut black hair fringed down over his forehead. Coincidence? Or a rich man's fancy? Would she get extra points for her black-and-white checked suit? Without looking up, he cleared his throat. You're late, Miss Romanelli. She checked her watch-twenty after four. The call had come down at four. Punctual enough, in her book. To be truthful though, she could have

shaved eight minutes off her arrival time. But he'd kept her waiting for at least five minutes. Super tycoon or not, he irritated her. I wasn't aware that you expected me sooner. Not only did he not reply, but he still persisted in scribbling away. How rude! Her temper flared. And the name is Ms. Romanelli. Indeed? He finally looked up. His frown of concentration gave way to a broad, beaming smile. Cassidy? She blinked. Not because the smile dazzled her, although to be truthful, it did, but because he looked familiar. He stood up and spread out his hands. Cassidy! It is you! Taking a step backwards, she stumbled on the carpet and dropped her folder. Y-You! Good heavens, A. E. Haydon-Smith was Alex! Her Alex! Her unemployed, bohemian, good-natured Alex, now clean-shaven and impeccably dressed. He looked so different. Younger. No wonder she didn't recognize him in the auditorium. A. E. Haydon-Smith. The multi-millionaire. Why hadn't he told her the truth? Why the deception? Not exactly a vagabond, he'd said. In between positions. And the topper, I don't even know your last name-although I might want to

change it to 'Smith.' Fool! She'd been a fool to trust him. She could forgive much, but not deceit. Last Thursday, she should've listened to her instincts and left the park bench when she'd had the chance. Men lied. They always lied. Bending down to pick up her loose papers, she dug her long nails into the soft flesh of her palm. She would never, ever, trust this man again. She was not a rich man's toy. Here, forget that. He effortlessly lifted her to her feet. I haven't been able to think about anyone else but you all weekend. She ground her teeth. Sure. Did he always get his way? With looks, money, and position, the answer had to be 'Yes.' He held her chin and searched her eyes. Cassidy, what's wrong? You seem different. Your eyes are the color of gold. Gold? Callous, cold gold? Just like the money he had stashed away in the bank. She hardened her thoughts. I seem different! That's a laugh. What about you, Mr. A. E. Haydon-Smith? If I recall correctly, you're a trifle different from the last time I saw you. Balling her fists, she moved away from him. Control. She had to get her emotions under control. He played a game with her. Maybe he thought he was entitled to pretend to be someone

else. Fine. But she didn't want to play this game anymore. Alexander Edward's my name. A mouthful, I know. He rubbed his jaw as if missing his beard, then smiled ruefully. I was going to tell you today. That excused his deception? What did he expect, that she would rap his knuckles and say, Naughty boy? To use an English expression, not bloody likely. So thoughtful of you, she murmured. She tried to pick up her papers, but he held her arm. You're angry. A frown marred his expression. Perceptive, too. With her upper arm gripped tightly, she couldn't break away. He stood so close to her, she could smell his aftershave. Her heart's engine raced as if preparing to start in the Grand Prix. Because he infuriates me. Only because of that. > Circling his left arm around her, he pressed her to him and slowly ran his fingers down the length of her cheek. His warm touch burned fire through her veins. No. She needed ice-not fire. Placing her hands on his broad chest, she tried to push him away. He tilted his head. Don't fight me, Cassidy. I've been anticipating this moment ever since Friday, since our last kiss. Although at first her lips quivered beneath his, she

willed them to remain still, not to respond. It took every drop of strength she possessed, but her body didn't betray her. Who the hell did he think he was? Did he think his money gave him the right to play games with her? To deceive her? Pulling back, she felt like she'd won a victory. His dark brows drawn, he looked puzzled. As he shook his head, his precision-cut hair fell right back in place. I don't understand, Cassidy. In the park, you and I had something so specialNo, not you. Alex Smith. But Alex Smith turned out to be a liar, didn't he? She slipped away from him, straightened her skirt, then smoothed back her hair. How many women had he seduced in offices all over the world? How many others had fallen for his charm and ruggedly handsome face? Too many. Well, she wouldn't be one more notch on his gun belt. She finished picking up her papers, then stood, facing him with as much dignity as she could. You have questions for me on the consulting position in Research and Development? Stepping back, he stroked his clean-shaven chin and regarded her with his half-hooded gaze. She remembered Alex doing that very action before. Too bad he and A. E. had to be the same man. Too damn bad. It's late, he said. I won't detain you.

Relieved, she turned to leave, but he stopped her. I believe you have a six o'clock meeting? Facing his gaze took all the courage she had left. Somehow she managed, refusing to let him see how much he'd hurt her. It's been canceled. A pulse beat at his temple, and he clenched his jaw. I see. His words came out like a soft hiss. A soft and dangerous hiss. She lifted her head. So she'd angered him. Good. His gaze narrowed. We'll finish our business discussion tomorrow at ten. Finish their discussion? They hadn't even started. But she nodded acceptance. He was the CEO. She had to dance to his tune, at least while she was at work. When she reached the double doors, he called to her. Ms. Romanelli, may I suggest that you make it to tomorrow's meeting on time? Throwing him a hostile glance, she muttered under her breath, Yes, sir. Then she vented her fury by slamming the door. Back at the restaurant, he'd told her that she was ruled by the clock. He teased her about changing her priorities. But now it seemed he was just like Frank Lessor-only worse. A. E. Haydon-Smith was turning out to be quite a tyrant. Nothing at all like the endearing Alex Smith. But then again, Alex Smith was as real as a fairy tale.

Chapter Six > The minute Cassidy stepped into the office the next morning, she smelled trouble. Not that the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting over the office partitions was offensive, or out of the ordinary. No, it wasn't the coffee. So what bothered her? Of course she was on edge knowing she had an appointment with Alex at ten. Or rather, with Mr. Haydon-Smith, business tycoon extraordinaire. He thought he could play her for a fool, but she'd burst his bubble yesterday, didn't she? No one messed with Cassidy Romanelli-not anymore. So why did a pain sear her heart whenever she thought about him? Lifting her chin, she said, Good morning, to two of her co-workers. They nodded, then quickly looked away. Her sixth sense warned her that something wasn't right. Something that had to do with her. She scanned the office. In the back, over a sand-colored partition, she spotted bright red hair. Jennie's hair. Jennie never made her appearance this early in Personnel. Never. Cassidy sighed. She didn't have to make odds with a bookmaker to know that her friend was gossiping about her. Friendly gossip, granted, but gossip all the same. Jennie's penchant for talk was the only thing that marred their friendship,

and sometimes Cassidy wondered why she wasn't more forceful about asking Jennie to stop. Seven months ago, Cassidy's divorce had been the office scuttlebutt. While her heart had been breaking, she'd had to pretend she didn't notice the pointing fingers and hushed whispers. She didn't know which had been worse: Bruce's infidelity or the office's insatiable appetite for scandal. Her stomach dropped. She was an intensely private person. To have to go through that again. > Tightening her grip on her briefcase, she went over to the partition. As soon as she walked around it, Erica, and Jennie looked up with the word guilty plastered all over their faces. Morning. Cassidy took little satisfaction on seeing Erica's tan face take on a pinkish tinge. Before she lowered her gaze, Cassidy saw concern reflected in Erica's dark eyes. Concern? Over what? Jennie recovered first. Sliding off the desk with a newspaper in one hand, she took Cassidy's arm. Come on, I need to talk to you. Erica's worried gaze haunted Cassidy. Good heavens, what was going on? She let her friend lead her into the office. Maybe she should have stayed in bed this morning. Behind the glass door, Jennie sat in the chrome-legged chair and waited while Cassidy put away her things. Easing into her chair, Cassidy fumbled with untangling her hair from her long

earring. Her fingers just didn't want to obey simple commands. How could she concentrate on mundane matters while an unexploded bombshell figuratively sat in her office? She knew Jennie well enough to know that she was ticking silently until she could divulge the bad news. Real bad. Bad enough to make the six o'clock report. Cassidy wiped at her forehead. Jennie had even stopped popping her gum. Okay, let's get it over with. What is it? Cassidy braced her shoulders. Whatever this awful thing was, she had to hear it. Jennie avoided looking at her. Nice suit. Silk crepe de chine, isn't it? Cassidy's stomach muscles twisted. Tell me what happened. Don't mince words, just tell me now. Well, don't jump the gun. It might not be bad news. Actually, it might mean something goodJennie! Cassidy's voice contained a warning. Okay. It's like this. Erica told me Haydon-Smith was in here early this morning-about seven. Asking questions, y'know, nosing around. Cassidy frowned. So? I admit the hour is unusual, but he said he wanted to talk with every department. She tried to lighten her voice and interject some humor. And I thought you were calling him 'A. E.' What happened? Give up your plans to be his next wife?

Jennie shook her head, an expression of pity evident on her face. He asked questions about you, Cassi. Only you. And Erica says he didn't crack a smile once. He frightened her. Drumming her fingers, Cassidy pursed her lips. It doesn't take much to alarm Erica. Frank's had her in tears a couple of times. Jennie made a disgusted noise. You're missing the point. This is serious. While I might not mind Haydon-Smith asking questions about me, after all, he is quite a catch, I wouldn't want him reading my personnel file without my permission. I mean, he can do it, of course, but I'd rather know about it first. Cassidy gulped. M-My personnel file? He checked it out and took the folder with him. Don't blame Erica. She didn't want to give it to him, but he does have the authority. Her head pounding, Cassidy shuddered. What did he want with her file? Intimate details about her life were in that folder. Her divorce, her job performance, her psychological profile. He had no right to demand her records. Well, he did, but.... Jennie leaned closer, dropping the newspaper on the desk. Jeez, Cassi. What happened between you two yesterday? Does he have it in for you, or what? And here I was humming the wedding march for you. Cassidy closed her eyes. What on earth was going on and what could she possibly do about it?

Okay, so I'm a kidder. I don't mean any harm. After all, the headline, 'Millionaire Marries Working Girl' isn't in the cards, is it? Jennie pointed to a picture. Especially after this. Look what's in today's paper. In the Society Section of the newspaper, a large black and white photo glared up at Cassidy. Alex, clean-shaven and smiling, had his arm around an attractive, bejeweled-and familiar-blonde. The caption read, At Saturday night's charity fund-raiser, multi-millionaire A. E. Haydon-Smith steals the heart of society darling, Veronica Needham. Another knot twisted in Cassidy's stomach. So Veronica Needham was the duty he had mentioned on Friday. An engagement he said he couldn't break. Why, that hoity-toity femme fatale had been engaged more times than her actual age, according to the papers, anyway. And after doing whatever it was that he had planned on doing with Veronica, he'd had the nerve to suggest stopping by Cassidy's place. No wonder she felt sick. She handed the paper, picture side down, back to Jennie. As if cold, Jennie rubbed her arms. What if he wants to get ammunition to fire you? The question mirrored Cassidy's thoughts. She massaged her forehead. Just what was he going to do with the information from her file? And why was he bothering with her when he had the ever-popular Veronica? Was it revenge? Revenge

for not willingly jumping into his arms? Could Alex really be that petty? He hadn't seemed so, but then he hadn't been what he seemed at all. Understating the facts, she sighed. This isn't going to be my week. Don't worry, though. He can't fire me. Not without documentation, anyway. With a snap of her gum, Jennie stood. He could have you transferred. True. Nausea rolled in Cassidy's stomach. Hopefully, her face hadn't turned as green as her spruce green suit. Maybe she had been wrong to cross Mr. Alexander Edward Haydon-Smith. He didn't handle rejection well. He'd pulled her file and now ruthlessly planned some type of revenge. And he would succeed. He wouldn't stop until he succeeded. She knew that much about him. Hand on the doorknob, Jennie knitted her brow. But maybe he just likes you. Y'know, this could be his way of getting to know you. Cassidy knew better than to believe that. What would he want with her? He had the glitter and glamour of New York's 'Toast of the Town'. Thanks for the info, Jennie. Forewarned is forearmed. I'll let you know what happens. After her friend left, Cassidy rested her chin in her hands. In an hour and a half she'd enter Haydon-Smith's monochrome office. He'd have the inside scoop on what made her tick. That gave him an unfair advantage. The deck was stacked

against her. Looking down at her green suit, she smiled at the memory of the rebellious urge that had made her choose it this morning. She'd considered wearing a black dress today so she'd be in harmony with his office, but then she'd changed her mind. Why would she want to be in harmony with anything connected to A.E. Haydon-Smith? Somehow or another, she'd not let him get the best of her. She had no idea of his motives, but if he wanted war, he'd find her a worthy opponent! ~*~ Pacing in front of the glass wall in his office, Alex chewed on his lower lip. Yesterday, he'd had it all planned. He'd meet Cassidy in the park. Get to know her better. Win her confidence. Sweep her off her feet. How quickly the plan had fallen apart. After reading her personnel folder, he'd realized his fatal mistake. Not that he'd intentionally set out to deceive her. Who could have foretold that a chance meeting on a battle-scarred park bench would become so important to him? That a woman he'd so very much like to impress would first see him as a carefree street vagrant? Naturally, the first words out of his mouth wouldn't have been, Don't mind my appearance. I'm really a multi-millionaire. That she preferred the vagrant certainly was vexing. Now she wanted nothing to do with the real Alex.

Wouldn't even give him a chance to try to put things right. Quite a sobering thought. She'd called him a liar, a liar for pretending to be someone he wasn't. He could understand her bitterness, especially after surmising that it was her ex-husband who'd destroyed her faith in men. Alex pounded his fist into his open palm. But he'd win her over. He wanted her so much, he could taste her. Her sweet, honeyed lips were so soft, so pliant to his touch. The ambrosia of the gods could not have been as satisfying. He closed his eyes, remembering the kiss and the sensation it created. His namesake, Alexander the Great, had planned campaigns for important battles, and so would Alex. Step by step, he would lure his desirable Ms. Romanelli into his web, until it became impossible for her to escape. Nor would she want to, he hoped. Shaking off his uncustomary self-doubt, he pressed the intercom for his secretary. He'd start his campaign with Cassidy's immediate supervisor, Frank Lessor. The other man entered the office with a smug, irritating smile on his bloodless face. A political worm, nothing more. It took Alex a fraction of a minute to size up the man; he had seen Lessor's type so many times before. Alex gestured toward a cushioned chair in front of the desk. I've heard a great deal about you, Frank. May I take the liberty of calling you Frank? A rhetorical question, but a crucial one to let the

man know who had the upper hand. Lessor sat, preening with self-importance. Certainly. And may I say, A. E., that we at Haydon-Smith CommunicaMr. Haydon-Smith to you, Frank. Leaning against the edge of his desk, Alex flashed a cold, hard smile. Lessor's mouth dropped open. Perhaps he had a premonition as to what was coming. Yes. Alex drummed his fingers. What I've heard about you has not been to your benefit. His Adam's apple bobbing, Lessor shut his mouth. Obviously, Alex struck a nerve. Indeed, he continued to probe, when I requested to consult with you yesterday, imagine my surprise when I learned you had left for the day. Fingering his collar, Lessor's hand shook. I can explainYou needn't bother. Your assistant, Ms. Romanelli, filled in admirably. Lessor remained quiet. Alex left the desk and wandered around the room, straightening the paintings on the walls. Yes, I'm quite impressed with her. You do know how to pick your assistants. Have an eye for a pretty face, do you? I suppose you treat your employees fairly. Shall I ask them? Lessor shifted in his seat. Sweat beaded on his

forehead, and his icy blue eyes turned glassy. Alex almost felt sorry for the man, but he squelched the sentiment. Sitting down behind his desk, he took a sip of coffee. Let's-how do you Americans say it? Talk turkey? I believe you and I can come to an understanding concerning Ms. Romanelli. I have plans for her, important plans. He narrowed his eyes. Can I take you into my confidence? Lessor took a large swallow of air, then nodded. Yes, sir. Good. Things were going according to plan. ~*~ Just to be on the safe side, Cassidy pulled open the heavy glass doors to Haydon-Smith's office suite ten minutes early. At the front desk, his primly proper secretary gave her the once over, then buzzed the boss. Cassidy shifted her weight on her green suede pumps. Where had he dug that woman up? Cassidy'd never set out to win a popularity contest, but goodness, Miss Lavinia Lithgow looked at her as if she'd just crawled out from under a rock. You may enter now. The woman sniffed. Lucky me. Gripping her information folder against her chest, Cassidy walked into the colorless office. Colorless except for the magnificent azure sky reflecting through the window.>

Haydon-Smith stood, then gestured for her to come forward. Wearing a navy pin striped suit that hugged his muscular body, he appeared at ease, confident in every situation. Completely picture perfect, down to his light blue shirt, floral red tie, and matching pocket handkerchief, he looked as if he stepped right off the pages of Gentlemen's Quarterly. > Another nervous knot twisted in her stomach. Tall, dark, and...intimidating. His smile betrayed him. No warmth reached his eyes. Why did she think she'd be a worthy opponent? She glanced at his desk but didn't see her personnel file. Had he read it? What had he done with it? Have a seat, Ms. Romanelli. Frank and I have been discussing you. She hadn't noticed Frank, but there he sat, with his hands clasped in his lap. His face was reddened with some unknown emotion and his normal animation was blatantly absent. He seemed dwarfed by Haydon-Smith, even shrunken in the chair. And, oddly enough, as well dressed as Frank always was, even his tailored suit appeared shoddy next to Alex's. A sliver of sympathy shot through her. Frank didn't deflate easily. She wasn't the only one having a rough day. Strange, she never thought she and Frank Lessor would have something in common. Frank quickly glanced at her, then lowered his

gaze to his hands as if he were not allowed to look at her. Humbled? Frank humbled? If Alex could crush him in a few brief minutes, what chance did she stand against him? Sitting down, she crossed her legs, then tugged on the hem of her skirt. Discussing me? Well, now that I'm here, perhaps I can answer firsthand any questions you have, Mr. Haydon-Smith. You do want to talk about the consulting position, right? Among other things. He leaned back in his executive chair and regarded her through half-lidded eyes. His expression was unreadable. You see, I was telling Frank that I plan to stay at the New York office a bit longer than I had anticipated. I wish to get thoroughly familiar with the operations here...and with the personnel. That sounded like a threat. She peeped over at Frank to see his reaction, but he sat stiffly, studying his blunt-cut nails. Haydon-Smith formed a triangle with his fingertips, tapping them together in a rapid beat. He waited for her to look back at him. To continue, I shall require an assistant acquainted with the staff. One who understands the complexities of each job and the idiosyncrasies of the person behind the job title. Resting his elbow on the desk, he stroked his chin. Frank suggested you for the job, Ms. Romanelli.

Frank let out a squawk, then covered it with a cough. Still looking down at his hands, he nodded. Me? Cassidy wet her lips. Suddenly, they had become very dry. You want me? Yes, I do. His dark gaze met hers with such intensity she felt a jolt of electricity passing through them. Her heart actually missed a beat, then thumped harder to make up for it. Smiling as if satisfied, he walked over to Frank and placed a hand on his shoulder. Yes, I approve of your choice one hundred percent. We'll have her start immediately. His gaze on her, Frank fingered his collar. Cassidy, I want you to know IHaydon-Smith's hand tightened on Frank's shoulder-a type of warning. She couldn't believe her eyes, but she did see it. And the squeeze must have been painful to cause Frank to flinch. Why don't you begin the paperwork, Frank? Ms. Romanelli and I have things to discuss. Lifting his hand, Haydon-Smith returned to his desk. That was a not-so-subtle dismissal. And Frank obeyed. He had no choice, just as she had no choice. Mr. A. E. Haydon-Smith always got his way. She felt bad for Frank. He was a jerk, but he didn't deserve to be made to feel two inches tall. She folded her arms. Maybe she could make this millionaire regret his high-handed ways.

After Frank closed the door, Alex raised one eyebrow. So Frank is a creep over being late for work? Remembering her long-ago words, heat rose to her cheeks. He's not the only one, she said pointedly. Haydon-Smith laughed, a deep, full-bodied, masculine laugh. Now, Cassidy, don't hold that against me. I was just concerned that I would be late for our six o'clock meeting yesterday. I did wait for you in the park, you know. She shrugged. If he wanted to waste his time, that was his business. But if he continued with this farce, he'd be wasting hers, too. Smoothing her hair behind her ear, she tapped her foot. I don't know about you, but I'm swamped with work. I don't want to be your personnel assistant. If you really need help, I can suggest severalPersonal assistant? Mmm, I like that. He'd deliberately distorted her words. Before she had a chance to blink, he leaped up to maneuver around the desk. He took her hand and massaged it, softly but firmly. Tingling all over, she tried to pull away, but he held her hand tightly. She couldn't pull free. But worse was the fact that a part of her didn't want to. He leaned closer, toying with her dangling gold earring. She turned away, to block out his masculine scent. She felt as if she was on fire.

Don't you want to hear your new job description? Breathing heavily, she closed her eyes. His assault on her senses had her body throbbing. Into her ear, he whispered intimately, I'll arrange to have a desk set next to mine so we can work closely together. Very closely. I'll tell you whom I want to see, and you can set up the appointments. Before the interviews, you'll brief me on any information you think I should know about the person. Not exactly romantic words, but she shivered all the same. He brushed his lips against her hair, then released her hand. We'll make a great team. She gave a little moan and dug her fingers into the padded armrest. Why was he driving her to the brink of madness, the brink of ecstasy, when he had Veronica Needham to make passionate love to? Why didn't he leave her alone? Hadn't she made it clear yesterday that she wanted nothing to do with him? What do you want? Why are you doing this? He misunderstood her question-or he pretended to. I am more people-oriented than my late uncle. He was content to leave the running of the organization in the hands of others. He jetted from one charitable function to another and looked for more. Alex's voice hardened. I intend to administer my grandfather's organization differently. Hands-on management, so to speak.

Taking advantage of his momentary preoccupation, Cassidy slipped out of the chair, away from his touch. She gulped down a ragged breath. I'm all for hands-on management. But I warn you, you'd better follow the hands-off-the-staff policy, as well. There are harassment laws. He smiled that crooked smile of his. Clever, Ms. Romanelli, and duly noted. I have no intention of harassing you. After glancing at his watch, he extended his arm towards the door. Now. To celebrate your new position, I'll take you to lunch. She froze. Her nerves couldn't stand much more of this cat and mouse game. I don't want to go to lunch with you. He ignored her words by taking her arm. Don't be alarmed, my dear. This is a working lunch, of course. I'll tell you about my plans. Cassidy let him steer the course. The only plan of his that she was interested in was when he'd be leaving New York.

Chapter Seven > Balancing the telephone on her shoulder, Cassidy firmed up the afternoon appointments she'd made for Alex. She wrote some notes on his calendar,

then dropped the phone back on the hook, satisfied. Although she'd never tell him, working as his assistant wasn't half bad. The biggest drawback was his close proximity. With Alex nearby, her concentration tended to fly right out the window. She wanted to maintain her distance, both physically and emotionally, but it was so invigorating to watch him in action as he made his presence known throughout the building. Plus, he was so darn good-looking. Who could blame her for daydreaming? Although she tried not to be affected, her hormones seemed to go into overdrive whenever he stepped into the room. She gazed out at another bright Manhattan day and felt the warmth of the sun penetrating the glass of the wall-length window. Memories of his demanding kiss right here on Monday merged with the afternoon light illuminating the office. A soft smile lit her lips. The buzzing from the intercom jolted her back to reality. For goodness sake, she fantasized about him even when he wasn't in the room! Alex's secretary's nasal voice cut into the office's soothing atmosphere. Ms. Romanelli, if it's all right with you, I'd like to go to lunch now. Would you mind answering the telephones? Once Cassidy had moved up to the fiftieth floor, Miss Lithgow had quickly changed her tune. No longer frigidly superior, she deferred to Cassidy at every opportunity. Directly working for Alex

must've been a huge plus in Miss Lithgow's book. Or maybe she suspected there was something more to the relationship. Well, there wasn't! Pressing the button on the intercom, Cassidy replied, No problem, Miss Lithgow. Take your time. Cassidy gazed out at the balmy afternoon again. This job actually had other benefits besides defrosting the prim Miss Lithgow: An office with a coveted view, a desk decked out with the latest computer technology, and lunch paid for by the company. For three days running Alex had taken her out to eat. She enjoyed what she was doing, too. Usually, she got so caught up with job vacancies, interviews, position rewrites, and meetings, she didn't have time to mingle or time to catch up on what was happening with her fellow employees. Being in the personnel department gave her the privilege of learning the other side of people's lives, not just their work-related history. She'd often wished she could follow up on all the interesting people that worked at Haydon-Smith Communications, to see how they were doing, to see if they were happy. Helping people had been the primary reason she'd wanted a career in human resources. Though that hadn't been his intent, Alex was giving her the opportunity to have informal chats with the staff. Surprisingly enough, he hadn't referred to her divorce nor made a move to touch her. He'd been exceedingly professional since the

confrontation on Tuesday morning. While her logical mind signaled relief at that, her primitive heart pulsed its disappointment. Was he playing another game? If so, she wasn't aware of the rules. And she had no desire to play. Straightening up from a slouching position, she spun her chair around. Back to work. If she concentrated, she'd be able to put a damper on her treacherous emotions. After all, this was only a temporary assignment. Alex wouldn't stay here more than two weeks. Then he'd fly onto Chicago and be out of her life forever. Good. She couldn't wait. Already the office grapevine had swung into action about the new CEO and their own Ms. Romanelli. The sooner Alex packed his bags, the better. At the sound of the door opening, Cassidy looked up to see John MacLean rush in. As he charged forward, he flipped through several typed pages bunched in his hand. He stopped in front of the desks, then pushed his black-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. For a second, his gaze was blank. He blinked, and focused on her. Oh, hallo. Do you know where the big man is? She looked at her watch. He should be back soon. He's got a busy afternoon. I've scheduled meetings with the customer relations department, then accounting. John snorted. Busy! I think 'busy' is his middle name. But he's keepin' me busier than a buzzin'

bee. Meddlin' with nappies and nannies! Ach, children! And what we'll be needin' with a fancy party on such short notice...well, I've no way o'knowing. He turned his attention back to his papers, but he continued to look so distraught, Cassidy had a hard time hiding her amusement. Obviously she wasn't the only one annoyed with the big man. But what was John talking about? Diapers and nannies? And what party? I've got somethin' here for you. If I could just find it. He ducked his head, then shouted triumphantly. Got it! She reached over to take two papers. A three-column list of single-spaced names filled the pages. She recognized the names-people who worked for the company. What are these for? He fiddled with his red plaid tie. Didn't I say? The big man wants you t'invite these people to a party he's throwing. A verra big bash. All formal with tuxedos and everthin'. An ice-breaker, he called it. Scanning the list, she felt her heart drop. Her name wasn't on it. But, then again, neither was Veronica Needham's. Cassidy flicked back her hair. So when's the party? John snorted again. Friday, luv. This Friday. In other words-tomorrow. At eight o'clock. Nobody throws a black-tie party and invites guests

the day before. That's sheer lunacy. She sighed. But if anyone could pull it off, it was Alex. He had the self-confidence to make it happen...and be successful.> John pulled another sheet out from his stash. Here's the address. Damn fancy-pants place off of Park Avenue. Don't know why he didn't just stay at his sister's...or hire out rooms in a hotel, for Pete's sake. Damn penthouse apartment. You'd think he planned t'live in New York! Looking out the window, he shuddered. I hate heights. Cassidy rubbed at her temple. Why had Alex rented an apartment? Why was he throwing a party? Her ego egged her on. Why hadn't he invited her? You can't have it both ways, Romanelli. You're the one who axed this budding relationship, not him. Another voice inside her whined, But he was the one who lied, not me. She shut the door on her thoughts. Thanks, John. I'd better start calling these folks. It is short notice. Nodding, he turned to go. By the way, luv, the big man wants you there at six. T'help set up. He must've seen her widened eyes, for he shrugged. Don't ask me why. The caterers will get all the tables ready. He knows that. But that's what he told me. After John left, Cassidy slumped in her chair. So she was invited. But Alex wanted her at his

penthouse two hours before his party? Why? She bit her lip. Why? Something very strange was going on. No question about it. Alex had a hidden agenda. She'd seen him all morning and at lunch, and he hadn't mentioned his ice-breaker...or his new apartment. Just what was he up to? ~*~ After finishing the meeting with the people from customer relations, Cassidy beat a brisk path to the elevator while Alex lingered behind, talking with the supervisors. Without visible effort, he charmed them. He could charm the apples off a tree. She tugged her hair back. Had the flush of embarrassment left her cheeks yet? Probably not. Sitting in the leather-backed chair during the conference, she'd hoped and hoped, but the linoleum floor had refused to open up and swallow her. She'd wanted to disappear from those speculating glances, but that darn floor hadn't obliged. In the meeting room, Alex repeatedly had touched her hand, her shoulder, her upper arm, all in plain view of the others. And when they'd stood, he'd even put his arm around her waist. Very inappropriate business behavior. To be the subject of office gossip.... How could she bear the knowing whispers a second time? She mashed the black Down button, then looked

back at Alex and the group of suited executives surrounding him. At this rate, she'd never get him alone. And she had to speak with him in private. If he didn't change his overly familiar behavior toward her, she couldn't continue to be his assistant. She couldn't dare go to another meeting with him. Tongues were wagging as it was. One of the supervisors, Ken Wainwright, broke away from the group, strolled down to the elevator, and wiggled his eyebrows at her. Do I get to curve my arm around your waist, too? Ken was a nice guy, a family man with three kids and another on the way. Even if he tried, he couldn't act the part of an office Romeo. Oh, Ken, what am I going to do? The sting of tears burned Cassidy's eyes. Just two days ago she'd told Alex to keep his distance, to remember the hands-off the staff policy. He'd kept his word, until now. Why was he doing this to her? Ken rubbed his dimpled chin. So there's nothing between you and the big boss? I didn't think so, but y'know, the rumor's been going 'round thatI know! Believe me, I know. Flattening the Down button again, she had an idea. Would you do something for me, Ken? Sure thing, bud. What can I do? She glanced down the hall to check on Alex. Thankfully, he still was busy talking with the supervisors. Can you convince the other execs in your department that Haydon-Smith's overly

familiar gestures mean absolutely nothing. Maybe you could say he's chummy like that with everyone. It's just his way. Ken gave a low whistle. Gee, I don't know, Cassidy. I didn't see him get out of line with anyone else. Don't you think they'd wonder why I was butting in? Maybe we should just leave it alone. If rumors can be started, why can't I initiate one myself? Just make up something. Say I remind him of his sister. Say anything! Please? All right. I'll do my persuasive best. After all, in customer service, our motto is: We Aim To Please! Beaming a smile at him, she whispered, Thanks. I really appreciate it. If you weren't married, I'd give you a hug. Just as well. He sighed. I always was a sucker for those feminine wiles. Ask my wife why we're having another bundle of joy! Cassidy exhaled relief. Ken Wainwright was well respected throughout the company. People would listen to what he had to say. Turning to leave, he pointed a finger at her. But listen, you have to do your part. You've got to get Haydon-Smith to squash his hand-roving tendencies. Thanks, Ken. I owe you one. After he left, the elevator finally chimed and the

doors swished open. Hoping she sounded professionally formal, she called out, Mr. Haydon-Smith, the elevator's here. Alex looked up and winked at her. The damn man winked at her! Making a final entry on his yellow pad, he thanked his entourage for their time. I'll consider all your recommendations and let you know my decision. I'd love to chat longer, but Cassidy's waiting, so I must press on. Watching him wave his farewells, she gritted her teeth. When he entered the elevator, she had to force herself not to blurt out her total mortification right then and there. A couple of deep breaths would cool her off, enabling her to present her case calmly, without emotion. Good meeting. We accomplished a lot. Where are we headed now? Reaching over, he stopped her hand before she pressed the button for the twelfth floor. We have a meeting with accounting. You know that. She went ahead and pushed the button. Have a nice talk with that fellow, what's his name, Wainwright? You two seem to get along rather well. With complete self-assurance, Alex straightened the knot in his pleated tie. Isn't he married? Her eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. Alex wasn't insinuating that Ken and she were involved with each other, was he? Was he jealous? Something wrong? Cocking his head, Alex

whistled off-key. As close as he was, she felt his body heat seeping into her. She took a step backwards. Hard to think with him so close. Listen, you have to be less, ah, friendly in your manner towards me. Ken and I were just discussing that. As the CEO, everyone's watching you and your actions. So you can't.... Her mouth went dry. Telling Alex to cool it wasn't as easy as she'd assumed. Why did he have this paralyzing effect on her? Sweeping his gaze over her, he hit the Stop button on the side panel. You're upset. We're not going anywhere until you tell me why you're about to burst into tears. He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. She wiped sudden wetness from her upper lip and retreated to the opposite corner. Of course she was upset. Here she was, trapped in a stalled elevator with a super-sexy hunk. How could she ever get her life back on track when this man played a siren song to her long-denied hormones? The canned music started filling up the enclosed space with vibrating violin strings and gentle strumming guitars. Mechanical love sounds. Never fond of elevator music, she thought it totally inappropriate now. She stamped her foot. Okay. I'll tell you. You have to stop calling me 'Cassidy' in front of everyone. You have to stop taking my arm and touching me. People in business don't touch each other like that. You're acting like...like.... Like her lover, she

almost said. He leaned against the wood-grained wall and rubbed his jaw. Like what? I'm puzzled. And what should I call you? To his credit, he did look puzzled. Maybe he hadn't realized how inappropriate his behavior was. Maybe standards were different in England. She didn't think so, but she could give him the benefit of the doubt. Releasing the Stop button, she then pressed for the twelfth floor. You're not acting like the chief executive officer. In formal meetings, you need to call me 'Ms. Romanelli,' just like everyone else does. You need to be more aloof, less touchy-feely. She studied the red wing-tips of her white high heels and said softly, Office gossip is working overtime. Your name and mine are being linked. Indeed? He raised his dark eyebrow. Linked? And you don't care for that? No, I don't. She narrowed her gaze. I hate being the topic of gossip. He watched the floor numbers light up as the elevator continued the journey down.. A dark shadow seemed to cover his face. Meaning you were the topic of gossip once before? Perhaps when you were going through your divorce? And now I am causing you more pain? She squeezed her eyes shut, then forced them open. That was more effective than counting to

ten. So he had read her records. He did know about her divorce. You had no right to review my personnel folder. At least in her mind, he didn't. But since you did, you should understand why I'm leery of men. She lowered her voice. I don't want to talk about this any more. Especially with you, she silently added. Turning away, she crossed her arms. If she didn't look at him, she might be able to forget he was there. But that only worked for about two seconds. When are the elevator doors going to open so I can breathe again? > His slow sigh filled the tiny chamber, so she glanced over at him. He raked his hand through his hair. I've made a mull of this, haven't I? Lord, I've apologized more this past week than I have in my entire life. Maybe that's your problem. Maybe you need to apologize more. I didn't realize that I had a problem. Thanks for pointing it out to me. He gave her a lopsided grin. Cassidy, you are a special woman. No other female I know has enumerated so many of my deficiencies! She flushed. Had she been rude to speak out? Against her will, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. When he looked at her like that he did make her feel special.

The elevator chimed open, and he took her hand. I do apologize. You must know that I don't intend to cause you any pain. I promise to work on my, er, touchy-feely. Her hand positively swam in his. When he massaged her skin with his thumb, she lifted her brow. He'd better try harder than this. He must have caught some message in her expression, for he laughed, then released her hand. Starting right now. I'll work on it right now. As they stepped out of the elevator, Cassidy smiled. She believed him. She just won a major battle. ~*~ Returning to Alex's office at ten past six, Cassidy dragged herself through the door. She couldn't wait to slam her apartment door closed, peel off her dress, and flop onto her couch. Working this assignment, as well as trying to keep up with the demands of her regular job was slowly draining her reserves of energy. But the real reason for her total exhaustion was trying to keep her emotions on an even keel around the finger-licking good Mr. Alex Haydon-Smith. Oblivious to her surroundings, she dropped her handbag and kicked off her wing-tipped shoes. The feel of the plush carpet against her feet soothed her, and she headed for her desk. Just a few items to wrap up then she'd head for home.

You look weary, Cassidy. She jumped. Alex sat at his desk, his jacket off and white shirt sleeves rolled up. His forearms had an abundance of dark hair, which probably meant his chest also had.... Cassidy? He waved his hand close to her face to catch her attention. She flushed. Bedroom thoughts were dangerous thoughts. Um, hi. I thought you'd gone for the day. Sinking into her chair, she brushed the hair off her forehead. He'd been working, too. His tie jammed into his pants pocket, he hunched over the desktop, scribbling on his ever-present yellow pad. The loosened collar on his shirt revealed curly black hairs. He looked endearingly casual. He looked like Alex Smith. She picked up her cup of cold coffee and gulped it down. Goodness, but it was bitter. She shivered. She felt very vulnerable right now. Too vulnerable. Her defenses were weakening. He leveled a pencil at her. Go home, Cassidy. Get some rest. Leaning back in his executive chair, he stretched his hands behind his head. By the way, where do you live? You know where I live. You have my personnel records, remember? Right. Queens. He flipped his pencil off the desk. Want me to drive you home?

No, no. She had to keep him at arm's length. After their understanding in the elevator, she didn't want to take any chances. Business and pleasure didn't mix. One-night-stands had a way of breaking hearts. Her heart had just recently healed, and she wanted to keep it that way. Rubbing her temple, she stood. Forget this paperwork. She'd better leave now while her body still obeyed her. Well, I think I'll go now. See you tomorrow. Before she had a chance to turn, he was by her side, gripping her shoulders. Why are you frightened of me? Her heart slammed against her ribcage. Fr-Frightened? D-Don't be ridiculous. Without her heels, she felt so tiny next to him. She had to crane her neck to look up at him. His voice turned husky. I'll never hurt you, Cassidy. I promise you that. He lowered his head, capturing her lips. At first his touch was soft, then he crushed her against his chest, burying his fingers in her hair. She moaned. She couldn't deny her feelings any longer. Lifting up on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and pulled him closer still. She circled small swirls on his back with the palms of her hands and sank deeper and deeper into love's abyss. All sensations were pushed into the background, except for the frantic

beatings of his heart and hers that became a wild primitive mating ritual. Although her knees wobbled, he held her steady. He nibbled the sensitive skin of her earlobe, then trailed his lips down the curve of her neck. A thousand electric vibrations pulsed through her. His sensuous kisses rocked her sanity. She'd never felt this way before, but, dear God, she wanted more. Cassidy. Alex whispered her name, sighing deliciously into her ear. Back to her parted lips, he swept his tongue inside her mouth. Trembling, she let him take possession of her tongue, of her mouth. On its own, her head tilted back, as if seeking a soft bed to continue their lovemaking. With a sudden movement, he lifted her up and carried her over to the black, cushioned couch. Gently placing her down, he brushed his lips against her cheek. Cassidy, I've wanted this since the moment I met you. His warm breath fanned her face. She gazed up at him and saw his desire-darkened eyes. Those eyes fueled an untamed longing in her. She licked her lips. For a fleeting second, a strange expression passed over his face, and she paused to analyze it. On his face was a look of victory, or of triumph. Like she was a conquest. Conquest? Another notch on that damned gun

belt? Anger pushed passion aside. Anger or self-preservation? Slithering out from under him, she rose unsteadily to her feet. She held up both her hands. I'm sorry. But I just can't.... She had to get out of there, fast. By the drop of Alex's black eyebrows, she could tell Mount Haydon-Smith would erupt momentarily. Maybe she couldn't blame him. She hadn't meant to tease. But then she hadn't planned on being seduced, either. And she was nobody's conquest. He sat up, a look of bewilderment in his blue eyes. Cassidy, why? No words could get past her lips. Her throat had thickened and she couldn't speak. Shaking her head, she spun around, and as fast as she could, picked up her handbag and shoes, to beat a very hasty retreat.

Chapter Eight > Her elbows propped up on her desk, her own desk back in personnel, Cassidy dropped her chin into her hands. She hadn't slept worth a darn, and tonight was Alex's big party.

She groaned. Alex. After yesterday, how could she face him? No wonder office romances were frowned upon. It just got too darn messy. And when she fooled around, she fooled around big time, with the boss of the whole international organization, for goodness sake. Love at the top. No, lust. That's all it was, lust. Not love. She couldn't possibly love him. Didn't know enough about him, for one thing. One by one, she ticked off on her fingers the negative factors against him. She'd just met him. He reeked of money. They moved in different worlds. He was ruthless. He saw her as an object to conquer. Pausing, she shook her head. He lied to me. How could she love anyone like that? No. She just lusted after him.> She sighed. So what was wrong with a little lust? Time to stop and take a deep breath. Well, she just had to face him, that was all there was to it. She lifted up on her hands, but her feet refused to budge. Her watch beeped nine o'clock, and she still was lodged in her chair. Picking up her ball-point pen, she stared at its smooth matte finish. She should've been up on the fiftieth floor by now. She should've been going over his schedule with him. Just delaying the inevitable, aren't you, Romanelli? But why not? How could she see him

again and not feel the same heady emotions course through her veins as they had yesterday? How could she sit in that office and not stare at the black couch without seeing him and his desire-filled eyes directly over her? And, darn it, how could she get her body to stop throbbing painfully every time she thought about him?> Her pen fell from her fingers and rolled under the desk. She didn't mind retrieving it. It got her off her bottom. On her knees, she reached under the desk to grope for the pen. Although she couldn't see it, her door opened. Jennie, is that you? Have a seat. I need to talk to you. After the door closed, the padded chrome-legged chair creaked ominously. Either Jennie had gained a ton of weight recently or the chair was getting ready to fall apart. This'll just take a minute. Cassidy grabbed the pen and got off her knees. Brushing the dirt off her chino slacks, she flipped the hair out of her eyes, then turned to Jennie. But Jennie wasn't there. Alex sat in the chrome-legged chair. Looking magnificent in a finely tailored charcoal grey suit, he regarded her through half-lidded eyes, as mysterious as a Siamese cat. His sensuous mouth had straightened into a disapproving line. Cassidy flushed heatedly. The air around her seemed charged with electricity. Even the tiny hairs on her arms stood at attention. She felt her

throat constrict. I thought you were, um, Jennie. Inane. I sound totally inane. He lifted one eyebrow. Will I do instead? Hiding her shaking hands beneath the desk top, Cassidy quickly glanced around the office. She had to get her emotions under control. There must be something in the room that could distract her. Her gaze landed on her empty ceramic coffee cup. Coffee? she asked, her voice rising an octave. Not that she needed caffeine. Her thumping heart was already providing an adrenaline high. Alex frowned. Relax, Cassidy. I'm here on business. When he leaned closer, she instinctively scooted back an inch. I'm not the big, bad wolf, he said stiffly. She caught her lip on the edge of her teeth. I know. Sorry. Rubbing her hands together, she winced as her stomach churned. I'm just edgy, that's all. I...ah…I didn't sleep well last night. Neither did I. Meeting his gaze, she felt a silent understanding pass through them. As his expression softened, he eased back into the small chair. The tension drifted away. Maybe I'll have that coffee now. His smile lightened his eyes. Scooping up her mug, she smiled back at him. I'll

get it. Glad for the reprieve, she hurried out of the office. If ever she needed to turn the spigot off her hormones, it was now. She returned with two freshly brewed cups of coffee. Handing one to him, she caught a whiff of his woodsy, masculine aftershave. The urge to run her fingers through his thick hair almost overpowered her. Her self-restraint about to go into a tailspin, she rounded the corner of her desk and sat squarely behind it. Behave yourself, Romanelli! He sipped the steaming brew. Since you didn't come up to my office, I came down to you. We have to make arrangements for tonight. She remembered his request that she come to his penthouse early. Why on earth did he want that? She still hadn't figured it out. The rest of his staff, particularly John MacLean, must have been going crazy with the preparations. Such short notice. Good thing she didn't have to be involved with that end of the party. A tap on the door sounded, and her assistant, Erica, entered. After a quick glance at Alex, she lowered her gaze to the floor and began pulling on the ends of her heavy braid. Please excuse me...I know you're busy, but I, well, umIt's okay. What is it? The way her assistant

savagely tugged on her braid, Cassidy feared it would fall out into Erica's hands. And since she stood a little in awe of Alex, something really must've been wrong for her to brave his displeasure at the interruption and come in anyway. Her dark-eyed gaze darted around the room. It's Tommy. His daycare called and said he f-fell on a concrete step. He's at Bellevue Hospital. They say he needs stitches in his f-forehead. Cassidy jumped up, maneuvered around Alex, then encircled Erica in a hug. The poor girl quivered, fighting the tears that needed to escape. Tommy was such a sweet little thing. Cassidy couldn't bear to think that he'd been hurt. Hush, now, she soothed. Of course you must go to your son. Would you like me to go with you? The offer seemed to steady Erica. She wiped her dark eyes, then managed a tremulous smile. No, but thank you. I'll be fine by myself. I'm just a little shook up. She gave a weak laugh. They said Tommy will be okay. Right now he's watching Sesame Street and eating ice cream while he's waiting for the st-stitches. Although she tried to be brave, her voice wavered. I'll have my chauffeur drive you to Bellevue. Alex unwound his long legs and stood. And when you're ready to leave, he'll take you and your son home. Brushing off Erica's thanks, he leaned over Cassidy's desk and used the telephone to make arrangements.

With her arm still around Erica, Cassidy studied Alex. That offer was so thoughtful and kind. An unexpected side of him. As she watched him, a rush of emotion overcame her. She was deeply touched. After receiving his instructions, wide-eyed Erica thanked him again, then left. Cassidy returned to her seat. I didn't know you had a chauffeur. He eased down into the small chair. I didn't. But I do now. Oh. She hid her smile behind a sip of her coffee. Then she set the mug down and glanced at him. That was really super-what you just did. Being a single parent can be so hard, and she's so young. Looking uncomfortable, Alex rubbed his jaw. It was nothing. He adjusted his tie and his position. Now, back to business. I need you to be at my place at six, so I thought it would be easier for you to come right after work. No sense going home to Queens. His abrupt switch of subjects left her blinking. But I can't. I have to get a gown for tonight. I don't usually go to posh, gala events, you know. My wardrobe is sadly lacking in that area. Sure, she just bought that periwinkle-blue dress last week, but it wasn't black-tie material. She smiled ruefully. So I planned on leaving work early. Fine. You can change at my place. He picked up

his coffee mug as if the matter was settled. But.... Her mouth floundered open. Changing clothes at his apartment would be so...intimate. She'd have to shower there, too. Her face blazed hot again. As he took a drink, Alex shrugged. Suit yourself. Change in the store dressing room. Take the tube over or try to find a taxi at that hour of the day. He was right, of course. What would be the sense of blowing a month's salary on a dazzling outfit and then get crushed riding on the subway? Or stand on a crowded street corner, hailing a cab? The man had too much perception. She sighed. Okay, I yield. As much as it pains me to admit it, you have a point. Grinning, he stood. He placed his hands on her desk, and leaned over, almost close enough to touch noses. I never thought I'd hear you say that. But I have been known to be right-on occasion. For a few seconds, she swam in the nearness of his intense gaze. Her knees went wobbly. Good thing she was sitting. The office door opened again and in waltzed Jennie. Her plump arms were gesturing a mile a minute. What's going on? I heard Haydon-Smith was looking for youSpotting him, she stood stock-still. Cassidy tried to keep the smirk from her lips and murmured into his tempting ear, I told you the

office grapevine was in high gear. Before straightening, he shot her a devilish look. The butterflies returned to her stomach. Thank you for showing me these hiring statistics, Ms. Romanelli. He gave her a wink, then turned around to Jennie. I don't believe I've had the honor? Holding out his hand, he sounded every inch the executive. Cassidy was impressed. Not only had he invented a cover for his close proximity to her, but he remembered to call her by her last name, too. She did the introductions. Mr. Haydon-Smith, this is Ms. Mulligan. She works in advertising. Jennie let him grip her hand. Admiration shone in her green eyes. Another one bites the dust! Cassidy covered a smile with her fingertips. At this rate, there wouldn't be one female left in the building who wasn't under his spell-herself included.> You must be Jennie, he continued. She just nodded. Her voice must have taken a temporary vacation-as did her ever-present gum. Alex's blue eyes glinted amusement. The pleasure is all mine. I look forward to seeing you at my party tonight. Releasing Jennie's hand, he turned to Cassidy. And if I don't see you sooner, I'll see you at six.

After he left, a palpable void seemed to fill the office. Jeez! whispered Jennie. Isn't he something? Up close and personal! Those eyes, those shoulders, those dreamy lips. All that and money, too. She sighed. Plopping into the chair he had vacated, she let her body go limp. He's looking forward to seeing me at his party! Cassidy held her tongue. The man had too much sex appeal for his own good. Wow. Obviously Jennie was still in the stratosphere somewhere. Then she sat up straight. I think he likes you. Me? What could Cassidy say to that? She thought he liked her too. Liked her too much. Well, in case you hadn't noticed, I am a nice person. Jennie gave her the Bronx cheer. Right. Go ahead, keep your secrets. She scratched at her red hair. What are you wearing tonight? Glancing at the overhead clock, Cassidy blanched at the time. She'd better hustle if she wanted to leave early. I haven't bought it yet. I'm going to Bloomingdale's. Jennie shook her hand. Fancy, schmancy! But with a date like Haydon-Smith, you bet I'd shop my little heart out at Bloomie's. Before Cassidy had a chance to deny that Alex was her date, Jennie sprinted out of the office,

calling over her shoulder, Gotta go. Bye. Cassidy sank back in her chair. What she couldn't deny was the special feeling consuming her whenever she thought about Alex. ~*~ As she slowly walked up the steps out of the Lexington Avenue subway station, Cassidy shielded her eyes from the late afternoon light. Glancing back down into the cool, dark tunnel, she felt reluctant to leave it. Underground, she felt safe, hidden among the millions of people who daily traveled the pathways of the New York City Transit Authority. Above ground, she had an appointment to keep. An appointment in a penthouse with a man who stirred her senses as they'd never been stirred before. Maybe she should turn around and go back down? Are ya gonna move, lady? From behind, a stubble-faced man chewing on a cigar butt glared at her. Murmuring her apologies, she leapt up the remaining stairs. A breeze of warm summer air mixed with car exhaust fumes hit her in the face. She stepped over to the side of a storefront to get her bearings. Ahead stood Lennox Hill Hospital. She gripped the small valise she'd brought to carry her new gown and started walking. Not too far to go. The sidewalk's slight incline by the hospital's front entrance slowed her pace. She felt her muscles

straining and her breath became ragged. Maybe her heart was hammering because of the exertion. Perhaps she should check into the hospital's emergency room. She shook her head. Quit it, Romanelli. You know darn well why your heart is playing bongos on your ribs. Just hang in there for a few more hours. Then it will all be over and your life can go back to normal. > That was an interesting thought, except who knew what normal was anymore? Reaching the corner, she waited until the traffic lights had turned green, then crossed the wide expanse of Park Avenue. The valise banged against her legs. She almost felt as if she was going on an overnighter... Whoa! That wasn't a mental path she wanted to take. Alex's penthouse was located between Park and Madison Avenue. A few more steps and she'd be there. She bit her lip. A few more steps and she'd see him again. Pulling back her wind-blown hair, she concentrated on controlling her breathing. Okay, so you're excited, Romanelli. So you're positively bristling with anticipation. So what? Don't do anything you're going to regret later.> Sound advice. But would she follow it?

Down the block was a long green canopy with white letters announcing the street address. Alex's address. A liveried doorman, complete with a brimmed hat and gold braided shoulders, stood at attention underneath the canopy. Cassidy approached, uncertainty slowing her steps. This was a social arena she hadn't been in before. Was she supposed to greet him or just walk inside? To her relief, he made the first move. Lifting his hat, he asked if he could be of assistance. Yes, thank you. I'm here for Mr. Haydon-Smith's party. She took pains to hold the valise behind her, hoping the doorman wouldn't think she was staying the night. Right this way, Ms. Romanelli. He held the heavy glass door open. Mr. Haydon-Smith told me to expect you. The man opened the inner door and then escorted her down the mirrored hallway, which shone brilliantly with chandeliered light. Rows of potted palm trees stood guard as far as she could see. Her footsteps echoed on the checkered marble floor. Nice. Very nice. Alex had good taste in apartments. At the elevator, the doorman pressed the button and waited with her until the doors swished open. Leaning inside, he hit the top circle on the panel. I'll give Mr. Haydon-Smith a ring to let him know

you're on your way. The man raised his hat again. Have a good night, Ms. Romanelli. She stepped inside. So this was what luxury apartment meant. Spiraling upward, she held onto her stomach. The long-awaited, or was that dreaded, moment would soon arrive. The elevator doors parted to reveal a square, open area with bushy areca palm trees and oversized schefflera plants lining the walls. Daylight spilled in through the skylight, creating a tropical atmosphere. Highly polished double doors of red mahogany broke the greenery. No other doors were in sight. This must be the place. As she stepped forward, the door opened and Alex leaned out. I've been waiting for you. He gestured inside. Make yourself at home. He'd changed into jeans, his frayed ones. And he'd forgotten to button his baggy, denim shirt. His chest was as big and as hairy as she'd fantasized. Her heart did a flip-flop. If he didn't button that shirt-and fast, she'd melt right there on the floor. She managed to walk in without stumbling over herself. Glancing around to avoid looking at him, she stopped in her tracks. The penthouse was incredible. She'd never seen anything like it. Her eyes widened. Not too shabby.

He took her valise and guided her away from the door. You don't really like it, do you? She didn't want to hurt his feelings, but this apartment certainly wasn't a home. It was a showplace. From the white ceramic-tiled entryway, she viewed an immense living room. Its farthest wall was made entirely of glass. Beyond the glass, she saw a spacious patio and a garden filled with colorful flowers. In the middle of the room, a baby grand piano could be reached by descending two steps into a sunken area. The pit's low walls were lined with a sectional couch, sort of like having a mini-concert hall right in the living room. A music lover must have designed the arrangement. Running her finger over the oak-trimmed banister separating the entryway from the large room, she murmured, Well, it's impressive. It must be quite a change from staying at your sister's. His laugh seemed good-natured. You're the only woman I know who would turn her nose up at this opulence. It's not my taste either, Cassidy, but I needed a place of my own for awhile. This was available, so I rented it. Must be nice to have that kind of money. Her apartment would hardly even fill up the entryway.> Young men and women in black-and-white satin uniforms scurried back and forth, from the main room to the kitchen. Tables wearing delicate, crocheted tablecloths had been set up against the

walls, and the servers placed exquisite trays of delicacies on the lacy white surfaces. An ice sculpture of a boy riding a dolphin decorated the middle table. That impressive centerpiece was surrounded by bowls of shaved ice overflowing with raw jumbo shrimp. Perfect, lavish, and elegant. Everything seemed under control. So why had he wanted her here two hours before the party started? To her relief, he buttoned his shirt. Just as he finished, the front door burst open, and two large mustachioed men bounded in behind a large silver cart. A small, dark man wearing a white chef's hat followed them. The small man halted, then shook his finger at Alex. Zut! Monsieur Haydon-Smith, you 'ave promised to be nowhere in sight while I prepare zis feast fit for ze gods. He waved his hands. Now, shoo, shoo! Cassidy struggled to contain her laughter. I can't believe someone's actually getting the better of you. she whispered. Alex bent down, his warm breath tickling her ear. André's only the second. You're the first. To the chef, he called out, You win, André. We'll get out of your way. The man clucked his approval and motioned to his attendants to take the cart into the kitchen. Placing his hand on her back, Alex steered Cassidy down a corridor. They entered a

bookcase-lined den and sat on two gold-studded leather armchairs. This won't take long, Cassidy. I need you to brief me on the company staff I haven't met yet. The same as we did before, any personal problems, ambitions, hardships, and so on. He handed her the invitation list, then relaxed into the softness of the chair. Start at the top and don't leave anything out. His attention now on a crystal prism paperweight, he picked it up and stared at the planes of light reflecting from its cut surfaces. She blinked back her surprise at this abrupt change in behavior. He seemed so business-like, so totally unlike the Alex Haydon-Smith that she'd come to know. Although his no-nonsense manner made it easier for her to concentrate on the information he wanted, she felt a twinge of disappointment along with the relief. If he wanted strictly business, he'd get strictly business. It was easier that way. But if that was the case, then why had he pursued her in the first place? He sure had a way of keeping her off balance. ~*~ Cassidy popped a heart-shaped petit four into her mouth, then licked the sweet pink icing from her lips. Taking another candy-sized cake off the decorated platter, she consumed that one as well. After being on her feet all evening, she was

starting to feel pulled down. The quick energy that the sugar icing provided would help wake her up. Great party. Ken Wainwright meandered over and wiggled his eyebrows at her. Don't eat too many of those. You'll ruin your gorgeous figure. Although you could use a few pounds. He gestured to where his wife sat talking, her hands crossed over her large, pregnant belly. As you see, I like my women big. Cassidy laughed and took another petit four. I'll keep that in mind, Ken. Sipping champagne, he scanned the large living room, then stopped when he spotted Alex. Our CEO knows how to entertain. Alex stood in deep conversation with four members of the Board of Directors. What were they talking about so earnestly? Cassidy admired the snug cut of his black tuxedo emphasizing his broad shoulders and narrow hips. He was a persuasive devil. As sure as her name was Cassidy, he'd convince the other men to come around to his way of thinking, whatever the topic of conversation was. She sighed. Yes, he's a perfect host. He's going to be good for the company. He really cares about people, don't you think? Alex excelled at making his guests feel comfortable and he showed genuine interest over their concerns at the office. Evidently, he'd listened to everything she told him in the den right before the party. He was a quick study, a very

quick study. At one o'clock in the morning, he was still going strong, plying the charm. She'd had it though. Good thing tomorrow was Saturday; she was exhausted. Ken gave her a pointed look. The two million dollar question is, do you care about him? Ken! Thankfully, no one had been near enough to hear his remark. I told you there's nothing between us. About to refill his glass, Ken evidently changed his mind when his wife gave him the sign that she was ready to leave. He nodded, then turned back to Cassidy. Yeah, you told me that. I passed the word around at the office, but whether anyone believes me is another matter. I must say, Haydon-Smith is acting like a gentleman around you tonight. No doubt about that. Ken finished the remaining sip of champagne. Though I must admire his restraint. That's a pretty slinky number you're wearing. Cassidy looked at him in surprise. He must've had a low tolerance for alcohol. She'd have to make allowances for his outrageous comment. But maybe she shouldn't have chosen this gown with the mock turtleneck collar and cutout shoulders. Perhaps the amount of exposed skin was a bit too daring. Gosh, Ken, you're making me blush. Sorry, that was the champagne talking. I was out of line. He rubbed his dimpled chin. Listen, Cassidy, Haydon-Smith is very interested in you, I can tell. Call it man's intuition. But whatever

happens, just be sure it's the right thing for you. Be careful. After he dropped that bombshell, Ken said his farewells, then hurried over to help his wife get up from the sofa. Goodness! Not wanting to speak with anyone else, Cassidy eyed the couch in the sunken living room area. She needed to sit. Stepping down into the pit, she eased back against the cushions to listen to the pianist's skillful rendition of Cole Porter tunes. So Ken thought something might happen tonight. Was the chemistry between her and Alex so obvious? Had he planned this whole party just to get her in his apartment to seduce her? Was he that calculating? She shook her head. No. She couldn't believe that of him. He cared about her feelings. That was why he had cooled his inappropriate office behavior. That was why he contrived a quick lie when Jennie caught them so close over the desk. And he was sincerely concerned about Erica and her injured son. No one could fake that. No, Ken was wrong about Alex. Jennie unexpectedly plopped down beside her, holding John MacLean's hand. The two of them had discovered each other early in the evening. Their flaming red hair drew them together and now it looked like love at first sight. But then, Jennie was always in love with someone. Hey, Cassi, you look beat, Jennie said loudly

enough to distract the pianist. Thanks. At one in the morning, who wouldn't be beat? I love that dress, though. Jennie trailed her finger against Cassidy's exposed skin in the delicate cut-outs on her shoulders. Subtle but sexy. John eased her over to him. Nae, luv. From now on you'll be touchin' nary a one but me! He adjusted his black glasses on the bridge of his nose. 'Tis time for us t'be goin'. My work here's done. Shrugging at Cassidy, he lifted his bushy brows. Jennie's wantin' t'take me to some dancin' club, you know. Ach, at my age, I should be tucked into me bed. Jennie winked at Cassidy. That comes later, John. Her remark caused him to blush redder than his hair. He stood up fast and pulled Jennie with him. Cassidy laughed and waved them on. They were so cute. Have a good time, you two. Hiding a yawn, she looked at her watch. Now was a good time for her to hit the road, too. While some of the guests had left, the party was still in full swing. No telling when it would break up. She'd better say good-bye to Alex. Someone circled a sensuous path on her shoulder. Your skin feels like velvet. From the raised living room, Alex leaned over her, massaging her bare skin.

She was too tired to reprimand him. Or was it that she didn't feel threatened by his touch? I was about to look for you. I have to be going. Already? He vaulted into the pit and sat next to her. Gazing into her eyes, he nodded. Yes, I can see you're tired. He squeezed her hand. Wait a bit. I'll be right back. She closed her eyes and felt herself drift into gentle slumber. The background noises grew faint. When the music stopped, she figured the pianist had gone on a break. Cassidy. Alex stroked her shoulder again. She sat up. Hands to her cheeks, she apologized. Must have fallen asleep! How rude of me. IStraightening, she scanned the living room. Empty. The room was empty. Darkness blanketed the patio and the sudden quiet was unnerving. How long have I been sleeping? He loosened his bow tie and sank back on the cushions. Only fifteen minutes or so. Why? He'd cleared the penthouse in fifteen minutes? When she'd closed her eyes, there must've been close to eighty people left. What did he do? Yell fire ? She fought an impulse to giggle. But it was too quiet. The servers? Through half-lidded eyes, he watched her. They'll clean up tomorrow. Always clean up before going to bed. That was

one of her mom's cardinal rules. Practical, too. Unwashed dirty dishes always invited ants, or worse. But Alex probably never had to worry about mundane things like bugs. Here she sat, all alone with the infinitely appealing Alex, so what was she doing, thinking about dirty dishes? She needed to give herself a good shake. Well, um, your party was a success. Everybody enjoyed it. On Monday, it'll be the only topic of conversation. As his fingertips lightly grazed her shoulder, he moved closer. She backed up. Um, Jennie and John sure hit it off. They left together, you know. Alex's heavy-lidded gaze took in her uneasiness. Instead of talking, he just smiled. Standing, she smoothed down the soft material of her gown. I'd better get going. He tugged on her arm, and she fell onto his lap. The heat from his thighs burned through her thin dress. She sat there, wide-eyed. All traces of sleep vanished. She was instantly, acutely awake. Do you think I'll let you ride the subway at this hour? He kneaded the tight muscles close to her neck and brushed his lips against the curve of her shoulder. Swallowing twice, she fingered the collar at her throat. Her breathing came fast and shallow. She should get up. Get off his lap. How could she think

rationally when the feel of his hard muscles turned her own to mush? She ran her hand over her suddenly fevered forehead and forced herself to concentrate. Subway-returning home. He had a point. She hadn't thought about the time-traveling this late. I'll call for a taxi. Nibbling her ear, he murmured, I think not, Cassidy. He gently turned her face toward his. Stay with me. I want you more than anything. But I want this to be right for you. Although his eyes darkened with desire and his lips parted with longing, he waited. I want this to be right for us. For us. In a flash, she accepted what she'd been denying: That she loved him. Deep and strong and true-she loved him. Crazy as it seemed, maybe she'd loved him all along.> Yes, she whispered back. Yes, I want you, too. His fingers gripping her arms, he pulled her closer. His mouth grew hungry on hers. Rough and hard, he pressed her to him, his need building, her own following. He flattened his hands against her back, then slid them over her ribs to her waist, then to her hips. His every touch ignited fires burning through her-out of control. Her heart drummed an urgent beat. She had to have him. She had to have him now. As she kissed him, she fumbled with the ribbon of

his bow tie. I want you, Alex. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded raw with passion. Groaning into the curve of her neck, he held her closer and quickly unzipped her gown. I wanted to do this all evening. His words seared through the pleasurable haze that had weakened her, and she wondered if it was only about lust for him. He hadn't said anything about love. Then Ken's advice floated back to her consciousness. 'Make sure it's the right thing for you.' She pulled away. Cassidy, darling, what's wrong? Concern shone from Alex's eyes. At least she thought it was concern, but she wasn't sure she could rely on any part of her judgment tonight. He brushed the hair from her face and caressed her cheek. Sweetheart, you can trust me. I wouldn't ever hurt you. She believed him. She really did. But everything was so confusing. I'm s-sorry. Everything is happening so fast. She looked down at her clenched hands. We just met eight days ago. It's so soon. Tears welled in her eyes. She loved him. She could admit that to herself, but maybe trust was a little harder to give. How could she trust him completely when she hardly knew him? Holding her to his chest, he spoke softly into her hair. No tears, my sweet. I'm the one at fault for

rushing you. He kissed a teardrop as it flowed down her cheek. As you say, we've only known each other a few days. I want this to be right for us. We have a lifetime to make it so. A lifetime? Staring up at him, she couldn't believe what she'd heard. What did he mean? Don't look at me that way, Cassidy. My resolve won't hold. I want you so very much. He nodded at her silence, then added, Tomorrow, we'll have a chance to truly get to know each other. We'll spend the whole weekend together. You'll learn everything about me, like how cantankerous I am before my morning coffee. Won't that be exciting? His joking tone didn't disguise his solemn eyes. He was serious. He did care for her. Maybe he cared a great deal. And that thought was very exciting. He gave the skin on her exposed back a lingering, loving stroke, then started to zip up her dress. She stopped him. No, I do want you, Alex. More than you'll ever know. To prove it, she wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could. Nothing in the world was as important as being with him, drinking in his love. His smile could've sizzled bacon! Ah, Cassidy. Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he pulled the front of the dress down, exposing her

black lacy bra. At first he lightly ran his fingertips over the curves of her breasts, then he crushed them with the palms of his hands. My sweet, you're beautiful. With a flick of the wrist, he disposed of her dress. His tuxedo proved more difficult to remove, but one by one, the silver studs from his shirt lay glittering on the rug. His trousers soon accompanied them. He lifted her and gently set her down on the carpet. Gazing deep into her eyes, he tenderly brushed strands of hair out of her face. She reached up to caress his muscular chest and enjoyed the feel of his curly black hairs against her hands. His nipples peaked, and she fluttered her tongue over them. You drive me wild, Alex murmured. He lowered his body on top of her. As his hands roamed the length of her, untamed desire swelled within her. Unhooking her bra, he swept his hands, then his lips over her breasts. Cassidy, you taste so sweet. So honeyed.... Her body pleaded for release. Now, Alex. Love me now. He traced the elastic of her panties with his finger, then swiftly pulled them down. Taking a ragged breath, he removed his own briefs. Locked in a fevered embrace, they kissed, loved, and rode the rising waves of passion.

His eyes intense, Alex looked deeply into hers. Nodding yes at his unspoken question, she curled her fingers in his hair. This was right. Loving Alex was right. This was love not lust. Love on top of the world. Easing into her, he covered her face with kisses. As fiery passion pulsed through them, she dug her fingers into his back. Higher and higher, deeper and deeper they clung together, until an internal explosion rocked them. Eventually, reluctantly, they both drifted back to reality. Alex lifted up and smoothed his fingertips over the curve of her face. Cassidy? He wanted to know how she felt. What she was thinking. She knew that as clearly as if he'd said the words. But she couldn't speak. Her throat had thickened, and she squeezed her eyes to keep tears from flowing. She loved this man. She loved this tender, considerate, passionate man. Hugging him tightly against her, she hoped her actions would speak loud enough to make up for her lack of words. She wished she could stay locked in his arms forever.

Chapter Nine > Under the covers, Cassidy snuggled on smooth

satin sheets next to a warm, comforting body. Still in the last throes of sleep, she sighed. After so much time alone, she felt as if she'd finally come home. Inching closer, she rubbed up against a hairy chest. Her eyes blinked open. Where was she? This wasn't her bed. And who slept by her side? She propped herself up on her elbow and looked down at Alex. Her memory returned in Technicolor! Alex had made love to her. Together, they'd made glorious, intense love. Hugging her arms to her chest, she smiled. After she'd fallen asleep, he must have carried her to his bed. The darling! Tingles vibrated down her bare spine. Hard to believe she'd just met him nine days ago. Through the breaking light of day, she studied his face. Before she could blink, he grabbed her and rolled her on top of him. Morning. He smiled lazily. Up so early? So are you, she countered. Indeed, I am. His wicked thought showed on his face. A heated flush crept up her neck. Lying on top of him, she could, indeed, tell that he was up. She dropped her gaze to his chest. He lifted her chin. After last night, you don't mean to say you're shy? Her face grew hotter. Circling swirls against his

beard-roughened jaw, she murmured, It's just that I hardly know you. The morning-after embarrassment and all that. I've never done this before, you see. Pausing, she hurriedly added, Outside of marriage. His eyes seemed to reflect pain. It was your husband who made you wary of men, wasn't it? Do you still love him? That answer was easy. No. No, I did once, but not anymore. She tickled Alex's nose with her hair. What about you? Have you ever been married? His grin lit up his whole face. No, but I might have to consider the possibility. She must have flushed red and pink and purple. But he was teasing her. He had to be teasing her. You silver-tongued devil. Running his hands down the length of her exposed back, he laughed deeply. Let me show you just how silver-tongued I can be! His lips captured her mouth, and he proceeded to take her back to the moon...and beyond. ~*~ Morning sunlight filtered through the window and woke Cassidy. Stretching out on the sleek, satin sheets, she looked over at Alex. He still slept. A slight dark stubble disturbed the smooth line of his jaw. His precision cut hair curled every which way. His gloriously broad chest rose and fell with the labor of his dreams.

Her heart pounded at the sight of him. Goodness, but he was handsome. And did she feel great. She almost throbbed with anticipation, or something. Today was going to be a fantastic day. She and Alex would have plenty of time to sort out their feelings. She would forget about the entire misunderstanding they'd had concerning his real identity. That was gone. In the past. History. What remained was the excitement of getting to know Alex as she'd first met him: the sexy rogue pirate with his high-handed ways and his wry sense of humor. She could even understand why he'd resorted to a disguise when he'd first arrived in New York. Being incredibly wealthy did have a number of disadvantages. Most people treated the rich as a breed apart. She could see how Alex would've developed a cynical attitude about women. Glancing at the crystal chandelier in the suite, she grinned. What luxury! But being wealthy did have its advantages too, didn't it? She slipped out of the bed and went to the window. The penthouse view of Manhattan was magnificent. Although a light dusting of greyish smog hovered over the skyscrapers, the morning sun's glorious warmth blanketed the city. She pressed her forehead to the glass and inhaled a steadying breath. A warm, loving feeling enveloped her. She couldn't wait to introduce Alex to her mother. Mom would be so happy for her.

The central air conditioner kicked on. A cool breeze blew around her bare skin, causing goose bumps, so she walked away from the window. Better get dressed before he woke up, or else.... A rush of heat flooded over her cheeks. Cassidy Romanelli. Such impure thoughts! So what>? She was in love and she wanted Alex. Hurrying to the bedroom suite where yesterday she'd changed clothes, she leaned into the stall shower, adjusted the water, and stepped inside. A spray of warm water beaded on her skin. Humming, she lathered up. She felt wonderful, cherished. Last night's Cole Porter tunes like, What Is This Thing Called Love? and I've Got You Under My Skin popped into her head. Hokey, but apt. So this was what love was like. Love the second time around, deeper and more intense. After drying off, she dressed in the white linen shirt and chino pants she'd worn yesterday. She stepped into the hallway, then checked on Alex. Was he up? Alex? she called softly. He didn't hear her; he rested peacefully with his arm now curved around a pillow. He misses me. She grinned again. That thought was immensely pleasing. As her gaze lingered on him, her heart pounded. Relaxed, he looked younger, almost boyish. His meticulously cut hair now fell haphazardly over his eyes; his lips curved

upward in a smile. She had to curb her desire to brush back his hair and kiss his forehead.> Before she lost her internal battle, she tiptoed out of the bedroom. She needed something to do, so she walked into the living room. Lots in there to clean up. But first…. She wandered over to the baby grand piano, gazed down into the pit...and relived the passion. Cassidy picked up her discarded black gown and hung up Alex's tuxedo, effectively erasing all remnants of last night's lovemaking. Then she tackled any stray cigarette butts, dirty glasses, and leftover food. If she hurried, maybe he wouldn't have to have anyone over to get rid of this mess. Then they could be alone. They could make love again. You're greedy, Romanelli. She laughed. And why shouldn't I be?> As she stood in the modern, white kitchen, drying a dish, she heard a fumbling at the front door. Probably the clean-up staff. Wiping her hands on a towel, she went to let them in. But she heard the door open before she even got out of the kitchen. Cassidy shrugged. Strange custom to give a house key to the hired help, but then again the rich seemed to live by different rules. She reached the oak-trimmed banister, only to stop. Just one person stood in the white tiled entryway. But it was someone she recognized. It was high

society's darling: Veronica Needham. Cassidy remained rooted to the spot. Every part of her body froze. Nothing moved, nothing twitched. She stared at the other woman. Putting down her two shopping bags bearing the name, Saks Fifth Avenue, Veronica Needham lifted her mirrored sunglasses off her nose, then swept her hard gaze over Cassidy. The woman focused on the towel, then smiled thinly. Here to clean up, I see. Her open-toed high heels tapping against the tiles, she walked further into the entryway. She surveyed the living room. Quite an untidy group. I told A. E. that holding a soirée for such common people would be distasteful in the extreme. She sighed. The dear boy wouldn't listen. Cassidy still couldn't speak. Veronica was as beautiful as her pictures in the newspaper. Her blonde hair, arranged in a tight bun, glistened like gold. She wore a lemon yellow spandex top with Capri length pants. She had more curves than a baseball pitcher. Two sparkling gems, probably diamonds, dangled from her ears. And she had the key to Alex's apartment. Cassidy felt sick. Strolling around the living room, Veronica wrinkled her nose and picked up a bottle of beer by the tips of her thumb and index finger. Heavens! Beer at an event like this one. She lowered her voice to a confiding tone, I am so glad I decided not to

attend. A. E. knows these boring people give me such an excruciating headache. After placing the bottle down as if it were contaminated, she raised her thin eyebrows. By the way, where is he? Somehow, Cassidy managed to find her voice. He's sl-sleeping. Veronica rubbed her well-manicured hands together. Is he, really? A slight furrow disturbed her smooth forehead. She fluttered her hand. Well, go about your business. But don't be too long. We do have plans for this afternoon, if you know what I mean. As the woman licked her tangerine-colored lips, Cassidy winced as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Alex and Veronica Needham were...lovers? No! That couldn't be. But how could Cassidy argue with the evidence smugly standing in front of her? Trying to clear her thoughts, she shook her head. He had implied that she was important to him, very important. Hadn't he mentioned a lifetime to make things right between them? Was that all a lie? How could she have been so wrong about him? She covered her mouth with her hand. If she didn't get out of there fast, she would lose control. Her tears would flow like Niagara Falls. But not here. Not now. She stiffened her

shoulders. Somehow she managed to spit out, I'll be going now. Leaving the towel hanging over the banister, she scooped up her valise and headed out the door. Only when she was safely inside the Lexington Avenue subway train, did she let the tears stream down her face. ~*~ Under the covers, Alex nuzzled the warm, soft object next to his arm. Cassidy? he mumbled. A feather tickled his tongue. Cassidy had left the bed. Disappointed, he threw the pillow on the floor, then sat up. Lord, last night, and earlier this morning, had been like touching paradise. No one ever made his blood pound like Cassidy. And she was here, in his penthouse, and she wanted him. An unaccustomed doubt seized him. She was here, wasn't she? Was she having regrets? She'd said she no longer loved Bruce Bannon but was that the truth? Alex clenched his fists. No matter, for if she did, somehow he'd make her forget about her ex. He'd have to make her forget, nothing else mattered anymore. He wanted her that badly. He wanted her forever. He took a deep breath and relaxed. Why was he worried? He'd have all weekend to convince her of his sincerity. All weekend to touch her smooth skin, whisper into her delectable ear and delight

all her sensitive places. Let the weekend start now! Alex jumped out of bed and turned on the shower. He'd need a cold one to cool his desire. Washing quickly, he dressed, then towel-dried his hair. Now he looked presentable, and he couldn't wait any longer to see her adorable face. He reentered his bedroom suite. Its emptiness disturbed him. He'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit wanting to find her in bed, warmly flushed under the covers. But there was time for that later. Time for everything. Whistling, he walked into the living room. Then he stopped. Sitting in the pit area with her legs daintily crossed, was the tedious and vain Veronica Needham. For a second, he felt as if he'd been tackled by a linebacker from the New York Jets. Hi, A. E. Surprised to see me? Veronica's sugary voice was as phony as the gold of her hair. He scanned the room, taking in the evidence that Cassidy had been busy straightening up. Veronica sure as hell hadn't lifted a finger. She probably hadn't cleaned a day in her worthless life. Perhaps Cassidy was still tidying up. Perhaps she was in the kitchen. And what if she wasn't? Glaring down into the pit, Alex growled, What are you doing here?

Veronica uncrossed her legs and stood. Why, A. E., I thought you'd be glad to see me. Especially after putting up with those tiresome people at your party. She pranced up the steps to his level and batted her lashes at him. I wanted to visit my favorite tenant. He quelled his urge to push her aside. Where's Cassidy? The vapid doll frowned. She probably thought she looked pretty that way. Cassidy? I don't recall meeting anyone with that name. Alex turned away before he did something he'd regret and stormed off to the kitchen. Its white bleakness mocked him. His shoulders slumped and he leaned against a pristine counter for support. Cassidy was gone. That wind-up toy in the living room had broken into the penthouse and destroyed the fragile trust he'd developed with Cassidy. If only he'd rented someone else's apartment. He should have known Veronica Needham was trouble. His head pounded and he rubbed at his temples. He would drive over to Cassidy's flat in Queens and explain. She'd listen to him. She had to. Veronica joined him in the kitchen. This time her frown furrowed her forehead as well as her neon-orange lips. You can't mean to tell me you're looking for that shabby domestic that was cleaning up when I arrived. Swallowing bile, he took a step towards her. What did you say to her, Veronica?

She fidgeted with a heavy diamond earring. Ah, I just said you and I wanted to be alone. Her voice lost its sugary tone. I thought that was why you wanted to rent my penthouse. She pouted. He didn't pay any attention to the woman's theatrics. Cassidy had believed Veronica. That was all that was important. His tender words last night must have been to Cassidy just that-words. She must think all men were like her ex-husband: cheats and liars. Alex would have a hell of a time convincing her of his innocence, if she ever listened to him again. But he wouldn't give up. He'd march right over to her apartment and force her to hear his explanation. If he had to, he'd make a deal with the devil himself to get Cassidy to forget about Veronica. Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out the penthouse key. He threw it down on the counter. Here. I'm breaking my lease. I won't need your place after all. As he strode back to the master bedroom to collect a few things, she puffed with the effort to keep up. But, but, A. E., I don't understand. Why is this girl important to you? She's so...common. Alex had no trouble with his reply. Uncommon is the word. And I'm going to ask that 'girl' to be my wife. He briefly closed his eyes to say a silent prayer. I only hope to God she says yes.

~*~ Although she got off the IRT train line at her usual stop, the Willets Point/Shea Stadium exit, Cassidy had no plans to return to her apartment. She needed to be alone to think, without having to worry about hearing or seeing Alex. If she saw him right now, she'd fall apart. She knew she would. Vulnerable was her middle name. She didn't need to hear any more pretty words or beguiling lies. Yesterday, he'd whispered more than his fair share of those, enough to last a lifetime. She had to be alone. Since Alex had her personnel file, he had access to her address and her unlisted telephone number. There was a chance, a slight one, that he might try to call her or try to come by her apartment. A very slight chance. After all, why would he want to see her? He had the glamorous Veronica Needham to cater to his every whim. She'd made that very plain. Walking down the elevated train's stairs, Cassidy brushed a tear from her eye. Her last tear. She wouldn't cry anymore. She'd been a fool. She'd given her heart when she just should have given her body. Maybe she'd even started to trust him a little. She straightened her shoulders. No big deal. So she'd made a mistake. Millions of women made mistakes every day, but they didn't give up. They took their lumps, cried their tears, and got back into the game.

Why should she be any different? She'd failed in her marriage, and now she'd made a mistake in loving Alex. It wasn't the end of the world. She could forget him and get on with her life. If that's true, then why does his deception hurt so much? As she descended the steps, she gripped the handrail. Maybe he hadn't meant to deceive her. They were from two separate worlds. He had his standards and she had hers. Too bad they both had different definitions of the word commitment. To the west rose the magnificent semi-circular baseball stadium, home to the New York Mets. She ignored it. The Mets were on a winning streak this year. Her luck, however, was going the other way. Turning off Roosevelt Avenue, she kept walking past neighborhood candy stores, brick townhouses, and tree-lined streets. Although the late morning sun beat down on her, she shrugged off the heat. She strode purposefully toward her destination: her mother's house. There, she planned to hide from the world and lick her wounds. She'd take several deep breaths, then start anew. She did it once, she could do it again. Her mother would understand. She always understood. Mom regularly ladled out genuine TLC, tender loving care, laced with liberal helpings of homemade chicken soup. But as good as her chicken soup tasted, it didn't cure a broken heart.

A few minutes later, Cassidy took a steadying breath, then knocked on the familiar blue and white door, beloved number seven. Her mother's house differed only slightly from the other nine connected houses on the block. All the row houses were identical except for each owner's personal taste in awning and window dressing. Her mother's home sprouted colorful petunias spilling out from window planters. Alex would never find her here. The door swung open. Cassidy! Come on in! Isn't that funny, I was just thinking about you. I haven't heard from you in awhile. Mom looked the same as always; her silver and steel grey hair beautifully coiffured, her plump cheeks powdered and rosy, and her deep brown eyes warm and loving. She was the picture of tenderness. Stepping forward to give Cassidy a big, perfumed hug, her mother then pulled back and shook her head. What's wrong, honey? You don't look too good. So pale. She pinched Cassidy's cheek. So thin. Arm in arm, they went into the heart of the house, the kitchen. Her mother poured two glasses of iced sun tea and gestured toward the table. Now you sit down and tell me what's upset you. Cassidy slumped down in the cushioned captain's chair and focused on the ice crackling in her glass. She proceeded to tell the whole story, leaving nothing out.

Her mother sat quietly, nodding at parts and tut-tutting at others. She was a good listener. Sighing, Cassidy concluded, So, it's probably my fault for reading too much into it. Even though Alex acted as if he thought I was someone special, I was just another conquest. Picking up a freshly baked cake doughnut, she broke it apart and stuffed a large piece into her mouth. But why did I have to go and fall in love with him? She didn't expect an answer. No one could answer that question except herself. Her mother dabbed at her forehead with a white handkerchief. How about a nice bowl of my chicken soup? I just made it yesterday. Cassidy smiled. No thanks, Mom. I don't think chicken soup will cure what ails me. I guess you're right. It's too hot to eat soup anyway. Which reminds me, I should probably turn on the air conditioner. Bustling over to the wall, her mother flipped a switch. Gosh, Cassidy, I don't know what to say. Young people don't have the staying power like folks did in the old days. Your father, bless his soul, and I were married thirty years. And your step-dad and I had fourteen before he was taken. And I can't even manage one happy relationship. Cassidy propped her chin between her hands and watched her mother return to the table.> Mom tucked her hanky in the sleeve of her house dress, then patted Cassidy's back. Maybe you

were too hasty with this Alex. He sounds like a fine young man. Considerate, warm, and single-minded-about you. Rich, too, and that's precisely why things don't add up. Her mother tapped her finger on the wooden table to make her point. Rich men like him don't need to massage their egos by pursuing honest working girls. He wouldn't have to. I'll bet he's accustomed to women doing the pursuing. And a man in his position wouldn't risk saying pretty words without meaning them. Could add up to trouble. People sue over anything these days. Cassidy licked the cinnamon left on her fingers from the doughnut. True. But don't forget Veronica was invited to the party. She just chose not to go. The party was supposed to be for Haydon-Smith employees. No one else. You only have her word that she was invited. Maybe, Mom, but what about the key? Why would she have the key to his apartment? She acted as if she owned him. Cassidy stared down into her glass. The ice had melted and tiny brown crumbs of doughnut marred the tea's smooth surface. She squeezed her eyes shut. How could she possibly go back to work and pretend that nothing had happened? How could she glue the pieces of her heart back together? She stamped her foot. Oh, damn you, Alexander Edward Haydon-Smith! And damn her own folly for falling in love with him.

Patting Cassidy's hand, her mother sighed again. I don't have the answer about the key, child. Though the good Lord knows I wish I did. You'll have to ask Alex about that. But maybe you've put your finger on that Veronica Needham's actions. Acted, you said. Maybe she was just acting as if she belonged in the penthouse. Maybe. But why would she bother? It didn't make any sense. Nothing did. Then again, what did it matter? Cassidy had to persuade herself that what she felt for Alex was lust, only lust. But now it was over. Another chapter in her life closed. She didn't want to think about him anymore. Standing, she bent down and gave her mother a kiss. May I stay here awhile? So I can clear the cobwebs from my brain? Of course, honey. As long as you want. Her mother's brown eyes showed her concern. Poor Mom worries too much. Wish I didn't have to keep adding to her troubles. Out in the backyard, Cassidy pulled a folding chair into the sunlight. She could hide from Alex today and tomorrow. Maybe even Monday. But she couldn't hide forever. Sooner or later, she'd have to face him.

Chapter Ten > Yesterday, Cassidy had called the office to take a vacation day-personal business, she told them. But today, Tuesday, she had to face her problems. Or more specifically, face Alex. Riding up the elevator in the sleek steel and glass building, she fidgeted with a strand of her hair, flipping it, curling it, and tugging on it. When she saw him, what would she say? How should she act? How could she not let her vulnerability show? She lowered her gaze to the green and beige carpeted floor. Why did loving have to hurt so much? Entering the Personnel Office, she forced a smile and made her way past rows of desks. She had no intention of going up to the fiftieth floor, not unless he asked her to go. But he wouldn't, would he? No, he couldn't. Her days as his personal assistant were over. Spotting Erica's thick French braid from over the partition by the coffee machine, Cassidy headed for her assistant. Might as well face the music as soon as possible. Erica would give her the lowdown on what was happening. Her tan face beaming, Erica looked up as she stirred milk into her coffee cup. Cassidy! I missed you yesterday. Good to see you. Cassidy blinked, then smiled for the first time in three days. She'd never seen her assistant so

cheerful. Not that Erica moped around the office, but this kind of enthusiasm was rare, especially in view of her son's accident. How's Tommy? Erica laughed. Tommy's great. You can hardly see his stitches. Things are wonderful now. Wonderful now? What did she mean? Cassidy tilted her head. What's been going on? I feel as if I've been gone for weeks. Erica's dark eyes widened. Oh, that's right. You don't know. He's so wonderful. Can you imagine, he worked so fast, snapped his fingers, and got the whole program up and running. Today's the first day. Tommy loves it already. I get to see him on my breaks and for lunch. Cassidy's puzzlement must've shown on her face. What was Erica talking about? And how could she see her baby during work hours? Grinning, Erica threaded her arm through Cassidy's. C'mon, let's go into your office and I'll fill you in on what he's done. Cassidy forcibly closed her mouth. He? Who was Erica talking about? After closing the door, Cassidy set down her handbag and leaned against her desk. Okay, I'm all ears. Who and what are you talking about? Mr. Haydon-Smith, of course. He started the daycare program we so desperately needed. The one that never could get approval.

What? Erica's eyes now sparkled. Apparently he managed to sway the Board into approving the plan. Rumor has it, he convinced them last Friday at the party. Then over the weekend, he and John MacLean worked nonstop supervising the renovation of the employee lounge next to the cafeteria. She clapped her hands together, hardly able to contain her enthusiasm. He even wrote a note thanking me for the thorough job we did in interviewing those childcare providers. Wait. This is too much information, too fast. Cassidy fingered the edge of her scooped-necked dress. What childcare providers are you talking about? Erica grinned. The ones we saw before the Board axed the program. He hired the people we'd recommended. So that was what John had been referring to when he mentioned nappies and nannies back in Alex's office. For at least a year, the company had been talking about organizing this program for the employees. Just about everything had been in place to start the facility. All the necessary licenses were approved and required personnel had been tentatively selected. But then the Board had gotten a last minute case of the jitters and the program fell through the cracks. Too much red tape, Board members said. Too many liabilities. Alex must've stormed ahead at warp speed and bulldozed the opposing

members to make this dream a reality. Erica took a sip of coffee. Not everything is in place, of course. There's a lot still left to do. But the main thing is that the daycare is up and running now. I'll be able to see Tommy anytime I want. Anytime he needs me. And this program costs less than what I was paying before. Sighing happily, she set down her cup. I don't have to worry about being away from Tommy anymore. Oh, I'm so happy, I could just kiss Mr. Haydon-Smith. I could, too. Cassidy felt a warm glow settle over her. She was proud of Alex. Not that she meant anything to him but she was proud anyway. Although providing quality childcare made good business sense, she still felt a thrill of satisfaction on a level that had nothing to do with the bottom line. Erica and the other parents of young children could now fully concentrate on work instead of being torn between job and babies.> Alex had said he was used to getting his own way. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing, especially if his employees benefited from it. Erica stood. Well, I've got to get back to my desk. Why don't you go down to the daycare at lunchtime and see for yourself? And see how big Tommy's getting. I'll do that. Despite the questions bubbling within her, Cassidy let her assistant leave the office. She needed to sit and digest this latest news about Alex.

Hunched over her desktop, she rubbed at her temple. The strain from not asking about him was beginning to take a toll. Did he inquire about her yesterday? Did he miss her? An image of the sleek, blonde Veronica Needham chased that thought away. Get real, Romanelli. He's probably forgotten all about you. > She sighed. She was better off not knowing. The telephone intercom buzzed, causing her to jump. Was that Alex? It was Frank. She sagged against the back of her chair. Good morning, Cassidy. Glad you're back. She raised her eyebrow. The only other time he'd called her by her first name was in Alex's office. Listen, I need you to drop everything and start working on this project for Haydon-Smith. I guess a lot of people have asked him about having a more comprehensive dental plan. He's compiling the figures and the costs. Commendable, but get this. He wants the numbers by this afternoon! Frank sounded nervous. She could imagine him rubbing his bristly head. The man's a slave-driver, he continued. You should have seen us running around here yesterday. What with the daycare and everything. She turned her laughter into a cough. Alex could be a hard task-master, that was true. But he took

care of his people, and she admired him for that. Too bad I missed it. So, tell me what I'm supposed to be looking for. Taking notes, she listened with only half an ear. Why didn't Alex call her himself? As a sudden idea struck her, she broke her pencil point. What if he was embarrassed? After all, he couldn't have planned for Veronica Needham to show up at his place Saturday morning. That would've been cruel. Whatever other faults he had, he wasn't cruel. Cassidy acknowledged the assignment, then hung up. By abruptly leaving on Saturday morning, she'd made it very plain she didn't want to see or speak with Alex. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out. Maybe he was respecting her unspoken wishes by allowing her to be alone. Maybe he hadn't meant to hurt her. She flipped the switch on her computer. The monitor snapped, crackled, and popped to its log-on page. She'd wasted enough time. Whether he had meant to hurt her or not was unimportant. She had a job to do, and she'd better get started. If she didn't meet Mr. A. E. Haydon-Smith's afternoon deadline, there'd be hell to pay. ~*~ Three hours and a crick in the neck later, she depressed the proper keys on her computer keyboard and sent the data she'd researched to the printer. She'd take a break, visit Tommy and the new daycare, then return and review the hard

copy of the information. Mr. Haydon-Smith wouldn't be able to complain that she missed his deadline. Brushing back her hair, she then applied fresh lipstick. Cold comfort, Romanelli. Her abrupt mood swings puzzled her. One minute she wanted to slap him in the face, the next she wanted to bury her head and hide. And then, even more outrageous than that, she wanted to run up to him and melt into his arms. Weird. She shrugged. If she couldn't figure herself out, how could she expect anyone else to? The sixth floor nursery was everything Erica had said, and more. Babies, toddlers, and preschoolers played in different sections of the old employees lounge, which had been divided by brightly colored partitions. Cheerful Mother Goose figures decorated the walls. Especially heartwarming was the separate lunch area where mothers and fathers could eat and visit with their little ones. Alex and his people had done a wonderful job with this place. Feeling a pain in her heart, Cassidy sighed. Dear Alex. Dear, infuriating Alex. > She nearly tripped over a crawling toddler. Setting the child back on his bottom, Cassidy proceeded a little more cautiously. Better pay attention to the ground traffic! Tracking down little Tommy took some doing.

When she found him, she picked him up and just managed to place a kiss on top of his head before he squirmed out of her arms. Only a small bandage marred his smooth forehead, a souvenir of his latest misadventure. He was a busy little thing and he looked just like his mother. But he was a typical boy; he had no time to submit to feminine things like hugs and kisses. Tears suddenly stung her eyes. It didn't look like she'd ever have the chance to have a terrific little guy like Tommy. Or a little Theresa. Not with Alex as the father, anyway. Her lips trembled. Quickly leaving the nursery, Cassidy headed for the elevator. About to press the button for her floor, she changed her mind. She'd visit Jennie. If anyone knew any gossip, it would be Jennie. In fact, it was odd that she hadn't come up to Personnel today. Had Alex cracked the whip in the advertising department, too? The door stood open to Jennie's office. Cassidy paused to watch her friend as Jennie leaned over a file cabinet, violently attacking the papers inside. She must've found what she was looking for, because then she plopped down in her chair to study the file. Cassidy rapped on the glass door. What's this? The last place I'd expect to find you is at your desk! Jennie propped her chin on her hands. Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. Kick me when I'm down. Cassidy stepped in and sat in the small chair by

the side of the desk. What's the matter? Making a face, Jennie gave an exaggerated sigh. You wouldn't understand. Try me. She chewed on the top of her pen. Damn. Love stinks, y'know? Isn't that the name of a Rock song by the J. Geils Band? When Jennie didn't respond, Cassidy's mouth went slack. Jennie in love? With whom? John MacLean? Really in love and not just a passing infatuation? Could it be possible? While she gnawed on the pen top, Jennie had that lost look about her green eyes. That lost look common to lovers. Cassidy knew that expression well. This morning it stared back at her from the mirror. Then she realized something. Jennie wasn't chewing gum. She must have been hit hard. Cassidy clasped her hands in her lap. Do you want to tell me about it? What's there to say? I've got it bad for John. Spent all weekend with him even though he was busy with the daycare. Heavenly. I would've called in sick yesterday if he'd taken off too, but he's too conscientious. As Jennie shook her head, even her red curls seemed droopy. She reached for a tissue, then sniffed into it. Now he's gone.

Gone? John didn't seem like the one-night-stand type. Damn. She and Jennie suffered from the same kind of man trouble. Yeah, he's supposed to call tonight, but what good is a phone call? He's over there and I'm over here. Over where? What are you talking about? In Chicago, Cassi, Jennie said impatiently. Last night he and Haydon-Smith left for Chicago. Cassidy sat stone still. Alex had gone to Chicago? Without saying good-bye? She blinked back a tear. How could he say good-bye, Romanelli? Remember, you went into hiding. Did you really expect he'd drop everything and search for you? He probably figured this is how you want things. The finality of her all-too-brief love affair hit her like a kick in the stomach. Alex had accomplished what he wanted in New York. He had other regional offices to visit. Why would he want to stick around here? But why rent an apartment for such a short visit? For the second time today, she rubbed her temples. The throbbing was like a painful message in Morse code. Cassi, are you all right? Maybe you should have stayed home today, too. Maybe. That wouldn't help. A whole month off wouldn't cure what was ailing her.

Standing, Cassidy weakly smiled. Well, look on the bright side. At least John's going to call you. That's better than nothing. And it was better than what she had. She swallowed down her regrets. I'd better get going. Have to finish a report for Haydon-Smith, then fax it to Ch-Chicago. Back at her desk, Cassidy took a deep breath. Several deep breaths. Bittersweet memories swept over her. Memories of passionate words, heated embraces, and fevered lovemaking. Gone. All gone. She had to be realistic. If she hadn't realized it before, she knew it now. She and Alex were through. Finished. Kaput. Or, maybe last Friday night's Cole Porter phrased it better: it had been Just One of Those Things. ~*~ Inserting the key, Cassidy unlocked her apartment door. She stepped inside the darkened kitchen, relocked the door, then leaned against it. It had been a long day. She brushed the hair from her forehead. She felt hot from the subway ride. Hot and empty. As empty as her unlit apartment. After dropping her handbag on the table, she glanced around. She hadn't been home since Friday morning. Home, such a comfortable word. Her tiny apartment was more of a home than that huge Park Avenue penthouse. Although she only had a kitchen, living room, and bedroom to call

her own, she wouldn't have traded apartments for anything in the world. Except, of course, if Alex had wanted me to. Cassidy smiled. So she loved him in spite of everything. She could allow herself to love him, from a safe distance. And Chicago was about as close as she could bear right now. She flipped on the light switch, and the circular florescent light buzzed into brightness. Friday's breakfast dishes still waited for her in the sink. First she'd wash them, then she'd relax. Maneuvering in the narrow space, she stared down at the empty sink. What happened...? A damp cloth towel hung over the Rubbermaid dish rack. Her mother must've stopped by to clean up. The sweetheart. She'd have to give her a call later and thank her. As she walked through the small arched doorway into the living room, Cassidy unbuttoned the top buttons of her scooped-neck dress. Looking down, she kicked off her white high heels, then froze. By the bottom of her stone blue swivel recliner, she saw a man's black leather oxford shoe. The shoe had a navy blue clad foot in it, while the leg was covered in a navy striped trouser. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest. She was afraid to look up, but slowly, she gathered her courage and raised her gaze.

Alex sat, with one leg crossed at the knee, appearing outwardly relaxed in her cramped living room. But his dark blue eyes revealed a measure of tension and his face seemed cast in shadows. He was thinner and more tired than she remembered. For the life of her, she couldn't say a word, she could only gawk. Gesturing at her chest, he said, I think you might want to button your dress. Heat burned her cheeks. Oh, er, yes. Hastily turning around, she redid the buttons, then sat in the armchair furthest from him, a mere five feet away. It wasn't far enough. Her whole body felt enflamed at the sight of him. She curled her toes on the floor and desperately tried to calm down. He regarded her with a solemn air. You're wondering how I got into your apartment. She nodded. You're supposed to be in Chicago. Rubbing his jaw, he kept his gaze on her. She'd never seen him look so serious. Flew back a short while ago. Pleaded my case with your mother. She let me in. My mother! Cassidy swallowed down hard. How could her mother have done this? Let him in? Damn it, she knew better. An anxious knot twisted in her stomach. Oh, Mom. You didn't tell him that I love him, did you?

> Cassidy rubbed her bare arms. This must be a dream. This has to be a dream. Alex can't possibly be sitting in my living room. > What was really odd was that he sounded so unlike himself. He sounded as nervous as she felt. Leaning forward, Alex sighed heavily. Don't blame your mother, Cassidy. It can be very difficult to say no to me. Twisting her lips, she snorted. No kidding. She couldn't fault her mother. What he said was the truth. There was something about this man that made a person want to say yes. Listen, Cassidy, I need to explain. You hiding at your mother's didn't help any. It took me all this time to locate her. With unlimited cash at his disposal, finding her mother, even with her second-marriage name, wouldn't have posed too many difficulties. That was cynical and self-centered. Alex had been busy, working for the good of the company. Busy with the daycare center and busy with the new dental coverage. And busy with Veronica Needham. Biting her lip, Cassidy darted her gaze over the living room and down into the bedroom. Now that he had gained entry into her apartment, she might as well allow him to speak. Not that she had a choice. But she damn well wouldn't make it easy

for him. She stiffened her back. You had no right to bulldoze my mother into letting you in. But since you're here, what do you want to tell me? His gaze flickered. Obviously, he didn't like to be reprimanded. Tough. Why don't you want me here? Didn't I do a satisfactory job washing the dishes? The ghost of his crooked grin lit his face. You what? She almost fell out of her chair. This was too embarrassing. On a scale of one to ten, this had to rate a two-hundred and three. Who even thought a multi-millionaire knew how to wash dishes? Her dishes, to boot. He couldn't have disarmed her more had he tried. Not able to look at him, she turned toward the small window by her side. She had an excellent view of the neighboring building's dusky exterior. Her control rapidly slipping away, she started to count bricks. Cassidy, I didn't come all this way to have you stare out the window. Be strong, Romanelli. She gulped down breaths of courage. Okay, so you're here and you want to tell me something. Go ahead. > Pressing his lips together, he frowned. Let me take you out to dinner. To a neutral territory, so to speak. We can talk there.

No, say what you came to say, then leave. He was persuasive. She knew only too well how persuasive he could be, and eventually she'd weaken. She was weakening now. He shifted position in the chair. Damn it, Cassidy. You can be a hard woman when you want to be. Feeling in the driver's seat for the first time, she smiled. Hard because I'm not allowing you to have your way? I think you could use a little opposition in your life. He cocked his eyebrow. Agreed. Would you care to supply it? No, thank you. She primly folded her hands in her lap. Sparring with him was fun. Now, you were saying? As he ran his hand through his hair, he exhaled deeply. Veronica Needham… Cassidy winced. He sighed again. Yes, a sore subject with me as well as with you. Anyway, Veronica and I had-and I do stress the 'had'-a business relationship. Strictly business. I needed an apartment. She mentioned she had one available, so I rented it from her. That's it. Nothing more. Although she, evidently, wanted something more. Hardening his voice, he tapped a finger on the armrest. I should have known she was poison. I've seen her kind often enough. Cassidy felt torn. While his frustration pulled at

her heartstrings, her self-defense mechanisms were screaming Mayday! She didn't know what she should do. Saturday morning, when I found Veronica instead of you.... As he shook his head, his powerful gaze seemed to caress Cassidy. All I can say is that the woman's lucky to be alive. Reaching inside his double-breasted jacket, he pulled out a large key. I'm staying at the Hotel Pierre. Fifth Avenue and 61st Street, in case… Well, just in case. Cassidy believed him. Women, rich and otherwise, were probably always throwing themselves at him. It would be like that until the day he died. Rich, handsome, and powerful; who'd have thought that combination could be a curse? Okay, Alex. I think I understand. I knew you couldn't be cruel. Standing, she turned toward the door. She needed time alone, to think over his words and to decide what she should do. Should she trust him? She loved him, but when it came to men it seemed her good judgment always flew out the window. She couldn't afford to make another mistake. Dear God, she'd never been more confused in her life. With trembling lips, she whispered, I think you should go now, Alex. He also stood. Cassidy, no. His voice came out in a strangled cry. Walking towards her, he stopped when she put up

her hands. You don't understand. I think I fell for you that first day in the park. When you realized there might be more to me than my shabby clothing. You're a special woman. I don't want to lose you. He covered the distance between them. Gripping her shoulders, he said fiercely, I won't lose you. The intensity of his kiss overcame all of her objections. He crushed her lips as if he sought to possess her very soul. Holding her tightly, he smoothed his hands down her back, squeezing the very breath out of her. Never releasing his grip, he ran one hand over her hips and waist, reaching up until he cupped her breast. As he gently kneaded her soft skin, she moaned with desire. She was powerless to resist him. Resisting was the farthest thing from her mind. His words had acted as a balm to her troubled emotions. His lips were erasing all her constraints. Swept up in this glorious, heated passion, she forgot her fears, her misgivings. She wanted him, only him. So she yielded to his fevered assault. Slipping her arms into his jacket, she ran her hands up his silk-clad back. She felt linked to him; mind, body, and soul. He broke the kiss and gazed into her eyes. Her senses swam and her knees sagged. If he hadn't held onto her, she would have fallen. I promise you, Cassidy, he whispered. I will not lose you.

He kissed the inside of her palm, sending tingles clear down to her toes. While she was still dazed, he pressed her hand over his heart and covered it with his own. You have no idea how difficult it is for me to leave you right now. But...perhaps you are right. I don't want to take advantage of you, my sweet. I understand you need time to think. His dark eyes conveyed a promise. After brushing each of her fingertips with his lips, he murmured, Remember my words, my pledge. Another kiss, another lifetime later, he left her apartment. Bereft of his support, Cassidy sank back down onto the chair. Her passionate response to him was no surprise. It was very difficult to say no to him. If he hadn't pulled away, they would've ended up on the floor...or the bed. And she knew right then and there she wanted that to happen. But he was right. She did need to think, to let her tumultuous emotions coalesce. Gnawing on her now-swollen lip, she leaned over to flip on the stereo. Loud music filled the empty air. British rocker Robert Palmer had some words of advice for her: You might as well face it, you're addicted to love. Alex's love. She had some hard decisions to make. Did she love Alex enough to trust him? Did he love her enough to make a commitment?

Too bad songs couldn't provide all the answers.

Chapter Eleven > Sitting with her feet propped up on her swivel recliner, Cassidy frowned at her mother. I can't believe you let him in here yesterday. After everything I told you, you let him sweet-talk you into opening my door. She rested her head on her bent knees. This was the first time all day that she had a chance to relax, but her insides still churned. She shouldn't take her frustration out on her mother but Alex wasn't available. Although he flew back to Chicago today, he'd made his presence known at the office. And managed to raise everyone's eyebrows as well. It wasn't every day that a delivery man wandered through the building carrying two dozen perfect red roses. Gossip about A. E. Haydon-Smith and Cassidy Romanelli was flowing at high tide-again. She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to think about that. Inviting her mother over for dinner, Cassidy intended to have a heart-to-heart talk. It had been no surprise that Mom brought over a plastic container filled with chicken soup. Unfortunately for Cassidy, it seemed that chicken soup not only couldn't cure a broken heart, but couldn't fix agitation as well.

During the meal, neither of them had mentioned Alex's name, but his presence was so strong it was almost as if he sat at the table. But now, here in the living room, Cassidy had to find out what happened between him and her mother. Now, honey, I know that was wrong of me. But he impressed me, and I don't impress very easily. Especially when it concerns my only daughter. But he certainly seemed sincere and respectful. Cassidy drummed out a distress call with her fingers. He washed the dishes for me yesterday. Not many men offer to do that, sweetheart. I didn't ask him to! All the better, then. Her mother took a sip of tea. Mom, I'm so confused. Cassidy hugged her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth. He k-kissed me again. I can't think when he does that. Turns my body all to mush. I could hardly sleep. I'm miserable. Her mother sat quietly, nodding. The silver in her hair glistened under the florescent lighting. Compassion radiated from her keen eyes. Cassidy let go of her legs and sprawled out, limp against the chair. I can't take much more of this. Just when I think I have him figured out, he throws me for a loop. He knows I loathe being the subject of gossip. Why on earth did he send me roses? Two dozen perfect red roses. At work. She intentionally made his act of giving flowers

sound like a crime. Maybe he loves you. Her mother's words drifted over to her. No. Cassidy shook her head. No, he can't. Memories of hushed whispers, knowing glances, and ribald comments made from behind water coolers returned to her. Haydon-Smith Communications had come alive with speculation about their new CEO. She shuddered. Perhaps she should put in for a transfer. No, Mom. Maybe he thinks he cares for me but we're so different. I mean, what do I know about the mega rich world? He's staying at the Pierre now, for goodness sake. One of the most expensive hotels in New York. He doesn't do anything small. He doesn't know how to. I'm not comfortable with that. Think about it. The Pierre. A Park Avenue penthouse. An ice sculpture at a posh party. He does things big, really big. As her agitation doubled, her foot tapping increased. We don't live in the same world. He probably shows his love by buying things. You know, expensive jewelry, fancy cars, glamorous clothes. To me, love is sharing. Sharing good times and bad. Dinners together. Walks in the park. Togetherness. Little things. Her mother's voice of reason broke through. You said 'probably'. You can't be certain of this. Sounds like you're making this up to justify

keeping him at arms length. You could be afraid to admit you love him. Standing, Cassidy paced the tiny living room, an action that took all of two seconds. Oh, I love him all right, but I don't trust him. He has the tread of an elephant concerning my sensibilities. Her mother raised an eyebrow. An elephant washes dishes? Cassidy ran her hand through her hair. No, that's true. Her shoulders slumped. An elephant doesn't worry about taking advantage of you, either. Her energy spent, she dropped down in the chair. But I can't be dumped again, Mom. It hurts too much. Her mother reached up and placed her soothing hand in Cassidy's. Honey-child, I understand. I know it's been difficult for you because of that...beast you were married to. He was enough to make anyone swear off the wedded state. But not all men are beasts, you know. Some men fall in love and never look at another woman again. Why don't you give Alex a chance to prove which kind he is? With her bare toe, Cassidy traced a circle in the pile carpet. Because I'm afraid, Mom. Life is a gamble, Cassidy. We all take chances. Her mother sighed. Two dozen red roses. That's so old-fashioned and romantic. Your father used to do things like that, bless him. I would've been thrilled. I'll bring them home to you, then.

Realizing she sounded curt, she patted her mother's blue-veined hand and kissed her jasmine-scented forehead to apologize. But restlessness stirred her soul. She walked into the bedroom, stopped at the window, then sat on the ledge. Still, Mom, you wouldn't have been thrilled if the rumor mills had been buzzing about you. Maybe you're letting other people's opinions get in the way of your own happiness. Her mother was right, of course. She was just using the roses and the gossip to keep her distance from Alex. Her feelings for him disturbed her more than any rumor-mill ever could. Instead of replying, she glanced down at the tree-lined street. Her favorite tree, the majestic, weeping willow, brushed parallel parked cars with its loosely hanging branches. Small brown sparrows energetically hopped around the willow's base, pecking at invisible food. Life could be so simple. Why was she making hers so hard? A white truck that was double-parked outside her apartment building caught her eye. Painted on its side was a colorful bouquet of flowers. She lowered her eyebrows. Surely Alex hadn't sent her more roses.... The doorbell rang. I'll get it, Mom. Cassidy dashed down the narrow path from the bedroom, through the living room, and into the kitchen. Breathless, she yanked open the door. A

blue-jeaned, gangly young man stood in the dark hallway, holding a crystal vase filled with flawless pink rosebuds. Are you Ms. Cassidy Romanelli? Chewing on a toothpick, he shifted it from one side of his mouth to the other. Cassidy nodded. Yes, butThen this here's for you. He thrust the flowers into her hands. Have a nice day. In a flash, he bounded down the stairs. Her mother inched her over to get a better look. Taking the flowers, she set them on the kitchen table. Cassidy, they're so beautiful! Two dozen of them. Are they from Alex? Cassidy leaned over to inhale the roses' sweet fragrance. Of course Alex had sent them, but she checked the accompanying card anyway. The message, a bold scrawl stretching across the card, said simply, Missing you. Until tomorrow. Alex. So she'd see him tomorrow, At the office, or at her apartment? And then what? She plopped down on a kitchen chair. Missing you. Tears stung her eyes. She missed him, too. Maybe it was good that she'd see him tomorrow. Maybe by then she'd be able to convince herself to overrule her fears and think only with her heart. ~*~ Stepping into her office the next morning, Cassidy

smiled at the red roses decorating her desk. In her mind, she'd made her peace with Alex. Now all that remained was to tell him. Face to face. Her smile deepened. She was going to take that chance. Love was something that didn't come around every day. Cassidy looked forward to their next meeting, and its outcome. After sitting down at her desk, she picked up a memo that hadn't been there the night before. She read it, then crumpled the paper. No! He can't do this! Of all the highhanded...I can't leave now. Mangled memo in hand, she stormed out of her office. She had to confront Frank Lessor. He couldn't do this to her. Not when she was so close to resolving things with Alex. As she entered Frank's domain, she waved the paper at him. This is a surprise, Frank. Temporary duty at the Denver Regional Office? Why are you sending me there? And on such short notice? Appalled that she might have sounded shrill, she took a steadying breath. I've never been to Colorado before. He looked as if he was about to speak but then apparently changed his mind. Meeting his cool stare, Cassidy wondered what was going on in his conniving, little brain. When he didn't respond, she glanced down at his precise signature on the crumpled memo, orders assigning her to Denver. Funny how last night

she'd briefly considered putting in for a transfer. To hide from Alex. But now she finally had thought things through. Her mother was right. Life was a gamble. She wanted Alex. She loved him and wanted him, no matter what. And no slimy, bristle-haired weasel was going to send her out on an unwanted assignment. He might be her supervisor but he also had to answer to Alex. Frank narrowed his eyes. He was scheming something devious, that much was certain. She didn't know what infuriated her more, the thought of leaving Alex or the thought that she once had felt sympathy for Frank over Alex's high-handed ways. Clenching her fists, she marched around his huge mahogany desk, recklessly moved his in-box from its symmetrically correct position, and stared him in the eyes. Look, I don't know anything about the Denver office. I don't know the people and I don't even know the address. The sight of his thin lips curved upward gave her the chills. Why was he smiling? Maybe she should back down a step. Well, okay, I do know the address. But this is so sudden. Why do you want me to go there? Are you refusing? She sensed a trap. I didn't say that. I just think I'm entitled to a little more notice. And an explanation.

Rubbing his hand over his nearly invisible hair, he avoided her gaze. It's fine with me if you refuse. Just sign this form and I'll send someone else. A trickle of sweat slid down Frank's temple. Why was he sweating? Was he hiding something? She reached out for the paper. Let me read it. Instead of giving it to her, he shoved the form into his desk drawer. It's nothing for you to be concerned about. Standard form, that's all. She wasn't fooled. Pulling a fast one, eh, Frank? Answer my question about the assignment. He wiped his forehead with a big, white handkerchief. Haydon-Smith called late yesterday. He's done with his meetings in Chicago and is ready to move on to Denver. He wants you there to help him. Alex. She didn't understand. Alex wanted her in Denver? Why didn't you tell me? Frank reached over, grasping her hand. His skin felt as cold and as clammy as an Italian ice. She shuddered. I may be wrong, but I have a sneaking suspicion that something's going on, Romanelli. Something not quite, er, kosher. Is Haydon-Smith...? Stumbling to a chair, she sat. Is he, what? She didn't know if she wanted to hear what Frank was going to say. Is Haydon-Smith, er...? He wiped his face again. Well, you are a very attractive woman, and I heard

about the roses. Is he putting the, er, make on you? Because, if he's behaving improperly, I'll bring him up on harassment charges, CEO or not. Especially since you don't want to go to DenverNo, he's not putting the make on me. And you didn't explain about Denver. Swallowing hard, she dug her fingernails into the padded armrest. If she didn't handle this right, Frank would push this harassment issue all the way up to the Board. In fact, she smelled a set-up. Did Haydon-Smith order me there, or did he tell you to ask me? Frank reddened. A hit. So he'd been trying to get revenge for the way Alex first treated him by manufacturing some phony harassment charges. Well, it wouldn't work. As she'd mentioned to her mother, Alex did things in a big way. Obviously he wanted her by his side until they ironed out their differences. But he had asked, not ordered. As far as she was concerned, the sooner they kissed and made up, the better. Standing, she smoothed out the crumpled paper she'd been clutching. So Haydon-Smith asked. No possible harassment there. And now that you've explained it to me, I agree to go. Frank sagged in his chair. Cassidy smiled. Sorry we had this misunderstanding, Frank. I guess Haydon-Smith has his reasons for this assignment. That's why he's the CEO and we're not.

As Frank narrowed his gaze, his pale eyes glinted. Darn, she hadn't fooled him. He put two and two together and figured out that something unusual was going on between her and Alex. But still, there was nothing he could do about it. If there's nothing else…. She purposely let the sentence fade and Frank waved her toward the door. Outside his office, she wiped at her forehead. Whew! That had been close. Consulting her watch, she speeded up. She didn't have much time to pack for the trip. ~*~ Back home, she got comfortable by changing into a long silk robe and putting her hair into pigtails. Picking out outfits for the trip, she then set up the ironing board in a small space between the kitchen table and the front door. A limousine was supposed to pick her up at seven and drive her to La Guardia Airport. It wouldn't take long to get ready. She had an hour to finish packing. As she pressed her black and white checkered skirt, she hummed. Maybe she would like Denver. It was as good a place as any to set things straight between her and Alex. Goodness knew it was past time for them to come to an understanding. When the doorbell rang, she jumped. If it was the limo driver, she was in deep trouble. Looking through the peephole, she didn't see anyone. She opened the door. Hello?

Down on his haunches, Alex tied his shoelaces. His hair hung down over his forehead, so he swept it back into place. Hello. Mind if I come in? Her heart lurched. How could one man be so darned attractive? His haggard appearance of two nights ago had vanished and he appeared his usual confident self. But she wasn't prepared to face him yet. She was supposed to see him tomorrow when she was fully rested and armored with dress and makeup. She glanced down at her slinky robe and bare feet. Goodness, she was almost naked. Certainly not a state to help one's self-assurance. Alex looked perfect, though. And that irked her. He had an unfair advantage. Toying with the pearl button at her neckline, she hesitated. He was supposed to be in Chicago or Denver, so what was he doing here? In one of the apartments above hers, someone slammed a door. Heavy feet stomped down the stairs. Soon, her neighbor would come into view-and see a half-dressed Cassidy with a well-dressed hunk. The last thing she needed was more gossip. Without a word, she pulled Alex inside, squeezing him against her as she closed the door. Her breasts flattened against his muscular chest and she felt his hard thighs in contact with her own. The temperature in the kitchen suddenly shot up to one-hundred and twenty. She stepped away,

only to bump up against the unsteady ironing board. Trapped. His face only inches from hers, Alex smiled. I do like your apartment, Cassidy. She jerked backwards again. This time the iron thudded to the floor. It was a struggle, but she managed to control her wayward body. If you don't move, the iron is going to burn the linoleum. We can't have that, now can we? Stepping toward the living room archway, he leaned against it and folded his arms across his chest. I never realized ironing could be so...enjoyable. She scooped up the iron, then busied herself with the skirt she'd been pressing. He made her so nervous. She'd expected to talk to him about her feelings tomorrow, in the cold light of day. Not in her apartment, with her in a robe and not much else. Why are you here, Alex? We were supposed to meet in Denver. He shrugged, the movement making her painfully aware of his broad shoulders. I got lonely. His words stopped her motion for a moment, then she quickly started ironing again. A stationary iron on an expensive suit was not a good idea. You mean you came here from Chicago so we could fly to Denver together? A crooked grin touched his lips and lit up his deep blue eyes. Sounds devoted, doesn't it?

You mean demented, she said, then flushed. You must have time to kill. He rubbed his chin. Have I ever told you that you have a certain charm about you? She couldn't help smiling. You're too much, Alex. Done with her skirt, she breezed past him to pack it. You might as well have a seat. Since I've got you to thank for this unexpected trip, and the seven o'clock deadline, I've got to hurry. No need to thank me. He followed her into the bedroom. Looking over her shoulder, he peered at the clothes in her suitcase. And you needn't hurry, either. The plane can't take off until we get there. As she had complained to her mother, his nearness was turning her body and her brain to oatmeal. Not able to trust herself, she ignored him. Or tried to. Twirling one of her pigtails around his finger, he commented, Cute. She made a face at him but continued to pack. Having him so close was driving her crazy. Maybe if she could muster up some of her previous anger, she could manage to speak an intelligent word. When he nibbled at her neck, she thought she'd jump out of her skin. That's an interesting fragrance you're wearing, he murmured. What is it?

She couldn't resist saying, It's shark repellent. I wore it for you. He laughed, a deep and throaty sound that rang pleasantly through the room. It doesn't work. Before she could stop him, he pulled out a teal blue pair of bikini panties from her suitcase. Fingering its lacy front, he whistled. I applaud your taste in clothing accessories. She died. Right then and there she died. Grabbing her panties, she stuffed them back under the skirt. You're busier than a two-year-old getting into mischief. Look, this is a very small apartment. If you don't sit in the living room and behave, I'm going to have to kick you out. He curved his finger down the length of her nose, stopping on her lips. Outlining the sensitive skin, he chuckled. That would be interesting. You kicking me out. Afraid that he'd feel her lips trembling, she moved her head. All right, I yield, Ms. Romanelli. With obvious regret, he sat in the swivel recliner. She'd won a victory, a minor one, but one just the same. And it felt good. He had said something odd, though. She struggled to remember. What did you mean when you said the plane can't take off without us? I chartered a jet. You chart- She started coughing. He was

unbelievable. You do go first class all the way, don't you? He smiled. Nothing but the best for my dear Ms. Romanelli. Looking around, he frowned. Didn't you receive roses yesterday? Pink ones, I believe. She walked by him, returning to the ironing board. Tight-lipped, she answered, Yes. And red ones at the office. He cocked his head. A simple thank you will do. The whole company thanks you. They certainly enjoyed speculating on the reason for the flowers. Ah, Cassidy, you shouldn't allow spiteful people to spoil your pleasure. I want to surround you with beauty. Beauty to complement your own. I'll do more, if you'll let me. She swallowed hard. His words caressed her and she had trouble breathing. You sh-shouldn't have sent the flowers, you know. Leaning inside the kitchen, he asked lazily, So where are the pink roses? Not in the trash I hope. One hand on her hip, she gestured for him to sit back in the living room. Because of a certain highhanded CEO, I have to travel to Denver. Why he wants me there, I'll never know. I didn't want the roses to be neglected so I took them over to my mother, for her to enjoy. His slow smile caused her toes to sizzle. You don't know why I want you in Denver? She flushed. She could make an educated guess.

He laughed at her embarrassment. I like your mother. She's a warm, understanding lady. Cassidy finished ironing her blouse, then swept past him. Mom has a habit of letting strange men into my apartment. Sitting back in the recliner, he stretched it out to its farthest position. I don't think she'll need to do that in the future. She likes me, you know. Maybe she does. And then again, maybe not. You have enough self-confidence for three people. Closing the ironing board, Cassidy placed it into the tight space between the wall and the refrigerator. She snatched her traveling suit, then headed for the bathroom to change. She'd feel less vulnerable when she was dressed. After she closed the door, she thought she heard him say, Not with you I don't. Alexander Edward Haydon-Smith not confident of himself with a New York born and bred divorcée? She shook her head. She must have heard wrong.

Chapter Twelve > From across the tiny aisle in the Lear jet, Alex looked up from his work and glanced over at Cassidy. In spite of the engines' monotonous drone, she'd rested her head against the small, circular window and had fallen asleep. She looked

like an angel, a heavenly vision temporarily grounded here on Earth. She was his angel. His alone. A familiar longing burned deep within. Unable to concentrate on his notes, he studied her instead. The exaggerated tilt of her neck appeared uncomfortable, so he placed his books aside, then grabbed a diminutive airline pillow. Maneuvering quietly in the narrow space was a bit tricky for someone so large, but he managed to raise her and gently place the pliant cushion beneath the soft curve of her cheek. She rewarded him with a drowsy smile and a brief glance before her dark lashes fluttered closed again. Cassidy, my sweet. He resisted the urge to gather her into his arms and place a myriad of kisses upon her smooth forehead. She needed her sleep. Dark smudges under her eyes increased the power of her frail beauty. Restless nights had haunted them both, he was certain of it. She and he had tossed in lonely beds, dreaming of each other, yearning for the oneness that only true love brings. > But they didn't have to be lonely anymore. Settling back in his seat, Alex allowed himself the luxury of gazing at the gradual rise and fall of her breasts. Cassidy and he would continue to dream of one another, to be sure, but when they did, they'd be wrapped in each other's embrace. Now and for always.

As he bowed his head, an uneasy prayer came to his lips. He hoped. He hoped she would be his forever. With Cassidy, his usual self-assurance had gone on holiday, leaving him racked with doubts and confusion. The past few days had been the most disturbing in his life. Had she been able to set aside her distrust? Could she put her troubled first marriage behind her? Could she admit that she loved him and accept his own unconditional love? Did she want him? On Tuesday, she'd treated him so coldly at first that despair had seeped into his very soul. But he was determined to win her over. Their parting kiss and her passionate response that night signaled a victory. She wasn't indifferent to him; she did care for him. His expectations had soared and that was what had led to a lapse in judgment. Of course he knew of her loathing of gossip, so it had been pure madness for him to send roses to the office. Whatever progress he'd made on Tuesday night had been erased by his gift the next day. But then Cassidy had to realize that what other people thought or what they said shouldn't make a difference. He loved her. He wanted her. He needed her. Why shouldn't he bestow love's most perfect flower to the woman of his heart? That she wavered in her feelings had given him the courage to whisk her away to Denver on such short notice. But at least he'd learned enough in

his dealings with her to ask her to come. A demand would have sent her running. Now he hoped they'd reached the place and time when they could put an end to the doubts, the mistrust, and the defenses that pushed them apart. Lord, this evening she'd looked incredibly desirable in that slinky robe, sexy and so at odds with the innocence of her pigtails. He'd all but pulled her to him and taken her right there in that wonderfully cramped kitchen. Remembering her delightful blushes at their risqué banter, he smiled at her, whispering, You will be mine, little one. Just wait and see. He ran his hand over his hair, then sighed. From outside the window, twinkling lights from below grouped together to disturb the black void. In another ten minutes, they'd land in Denver. In another ten minutes, Cassidy would be awake. Patience had never been one of his virtues, and he never had to exert as much of that fabled patience as right now. The effort to put his natural drives on hold was taxing his strength and his will. Cassidy had needed time to make a decision, to conquer her own demons. He understood that, but he hoped she'd had enough time. His equanimity, or lack of it, was starting to wear thin. ~*~ A gentle bump wakened Cassidy as the Lear jet's wheels touched the runway. She rubbed her eyes.

Had they arrived at Denver International Airport already? She must have fallen asleep. Pulling away from the window, she jumped when a pillow dropped from under her head. Where did that come from? > A faint memory surfaced of Alex bending over her. Looking across the narrow aisle, she drank in the masculine sight of him. Even now her dreams couldn't compare with the real man. Evidently, he'd worked during the four hour trip. After he finished writing on a yellow legal-sized pad, he placed it in his attaché case, then snapped it shut. Well, hello, he drawled. Have a good nap? His smile seemed to hint at intimate secrets. Nodding, she flushed. I don't know why I'm so tired. That wasn't quite the truth. She did know. According to the pilot, the hour just struck half past nine. However, her internal clock was still on Eastern Standard Time. Normally she'd have been snug in her bed for at least an hour. Not that she'd have necessarily been asleep, but she had to admit that it wasn't just the late nights catching up with her. The sleepless nights were taking a toll as well. As the private jet slowly eased off the runway and onto the taxiway, she looked out her window into the darkness. To her left, a heavy sprinkling of bright, beaming lights dotted her view. The plane

approached the huge terminal with its unique tepee-like roof of clustered white peaks and stopped a short distance away. The whirl of the engines shut down and a blessed quiet replaced the roar. In his seat, Alex stretched, then pulled on his suit jacket. Don't worry, I'll get you to bed soon, Cassidy. She blinked. Peeping over at him from beneath her lashes, she studied his serious face. He hadn't meant anything flirtatious or otherwise by that comment. Disappointment burned within her. Did that mean she'd have to wait just a while longer to state her love? When a loud metallic clang sounded, she looked out the window and saw a removable length of stairs being placed in position next to the jet's door. The flight attendant then opened the hatch. A rush of cool air flooded the compartment. Alex handed over her valise and helped her up. You go first. Reluctant to leave the jet's comforting warmth, and Alex's nearness, she made her way down the tiny aisle. All she wanted to do was to snuggle up with him and whisper sweet nothings, but she'd better behave or she'd be in no shape to report to work tomorrow. Good thing Saturday wasn't far away. Hunching over to avoid bumping his head, Alex followed her, then paused to speak with the pilot.

The noise from each step as she descended down the steel steps jarred her. Funny how she still wanted to sleep. Sleep next to Alex. You've got a one-track mind here, Romanelli. Get a grip. > As she waited for him on the taxiway, she surveyed the surroundings. Near the terminal, jumbo jets stood patiently anticipating their next flight. Or maybe, since the hour was late, they were retired for the day. At this time of night, the airport's frantic activities seemed to be winding down, although through glass-lined walls, she saw a few people still roaming the length of the departure lounge. She yawned. They also probably wished they were home in bed. Alex's footsteps clattered against the metal steps. Now by her side, he curved his arm around her waist. Miss me? he teased. Instead of pulling away, she slumped against him. She enjoyed the solid feel of him, the tantalizing aroma of woodsy aftershave. Actually, yes, I have. That's good to hear, he whispered into her hair, sending tingles down her back. Glancing at his watch, he then scanned the airport's taxiway. I told John to meet us. He should be here at any moment. Cassidy saw a silver Mercedes-Benz heading across the tarmac toward them. Maybe that's him.

Yes. I believe it is. Alex put a hand gently on her back and they stepped away from the plane. The Mercedes stopped a few feet from them and the door to the driver's side swung open. John MacLean stepped out and nodded to Alex. Then he turned to her. 'Tis good t'see you again, luv. Alex held her tighter. His voice contained a note of displeasure. Luv? John flipped his argyle tie. Ach, man, you're miffed I'm late. I'm sorra. Got turned around on the interstate. Interstate 70 or 270. They all look the same t'me. He straightened his glasses. Drivin' on the wrong side o'the road, too! These Yanks, they're devilish, I tell you! John then gave her a wink, taking the sting out of his words. After all, she was a Yank, too. He grabbed their bags and stowed them in the trunk. Cassidy smiled. She could see why Cupid had lanced Jennie's heart. The scatterbrained Jennie needed John's steadying influence. But had Cupid shot his arrow into John as well? Good to see you, too. Cassidy said after John slammed the trunk closed and walked back. Jennie told me she's missing you. Aye, lass. I be missin' her, too. I never thought I'd be sayin' this, but 'twas a sad day when I left New York. Alex raised his eyebrow. What's this? You never told me about you and Ms. Mulligan. John opened the backseat door. I canna be tellin'

you all me woes. You've got enough on yer mind. Cassidy slid into the car and sunk down into the luxurious cushions. About to fasten her seatbelt, she had to move over more as Alex got in next to her. I thought you were going to sitBehind the wheel, John brayed a deep laugh. Nay, luv, why would the man want t'sit by the likes o'me, when he could be cuddlin' with the likes of you? Pulling her close, Alex also laughed. Inelegantly put, but correct. He guided her head to his shoulder. Use me as your pillow, Cassidy. Relax. Before you know it we'll be at the hotel. As she snuggled up against him, the strong sound of his heartbeat lulled her eyes closed. She savored every second with him. Alex sighed. At least I hope we'll soon arrive at the Brown Palace. With this driver, who can tell? The last thing Cassidy remembered hearing was John's loud snort. ~*~ Stretching between crisp, cool sheets, Cassidy reluctantly opened her eyes. An unfamiliar textured ceiling loomed overhead. A strange bedroom complete with wood paneling, crystal lamps, and round marble tabletops greeted her gaze. Where was she? How did she get here? Scrambling to an upright position, she looked

down and noticed what she was wearing, or rather what she wasn't wearing. Her peach satin bra and matching half slip were not her usual bed attire. The traveling suit she'd worn yesterday lay draped over a wing-backed chair. Through an open door, she saw an elegant sitting room. Her memory returned. She must've fallen asleep in the car. Alex must've carried her into the Brown Palace Hotel and up into this room-this suite. And then, he undressed her. How could that have happened and I didn't even wake up? Was I so exhausted that I slept that soundly? She hugged her knees into her chest. Too bad she hadn't wakened. There was no doubt that she wanted to return the favor by undressing him! Patience, Romanelli! The sweet smell of roses scented the room. On the mahogany credenza stood a tall Chinese vase filled with yellow roses. Smiling, she walked over to the flowers and pressed her nose against them. The soft petals caressed her cheeks. She sighed. The darling. His gifts no longer troubled her. Alex was everything she'd ever dreamed a man could be. Although at times arrogant and domineering, he had a gentle side and could be so considerate and loving. He made her feel special. Straightening, she flicked back her hair. She did feel special. Somehow, he'd managed to restore

her sense of self-worth that had been so badly battered during her marriage. Now, for the first time since the divorce, she really felt like she was no longer tied physically or emotionally to Bruce. Free and unafraid. She was free from the past. Free to love again completely and unreservedly. Free to love wonderful, caring Alex. Happiness bubbled through her. She picked up the creamy white envelope poking through the flowers. The card read: I'll pick you up for lunch. Alex. Lunch? What time is it? Dashing to the windows, she pulled open the heavy, dark drapes. Sunlight flooded inside, making her blink. She checked the clock radio on the nightstand. Noon? Wasn't she supposed to go to work today with him? Why had he let her sleep? Noon? She'd better get dressed-fast! Zooming into the bathroom, she took the quickest shower on record. After toweling off, blow-drying her hair, and applying makeup, she dressed in a white, silk tank top and a slim, above-the-knee navy skirt. As she inserted her chunky, gold earrings, someone knocked on the door. Just in time. She smiled. She couldn't wait to tell Alex she loved him. When she opened the door, Jennie stood in the corridor. Cassidy gulped down her surprise...and disappointment. Jennie! What in the world are you

doing in Denver? Her friend's green eyes sparkled and her plump cheeks shook as she laughed. Beats me! Got a phone call early this morning from Haydon-Smith. Tells me to hop a plane and come out here. So I did. She stepped inside the hotel room and snaked her arm through Cassidy's. John picked me up at the airport in the fanciest car. I think he was as surprised to see me as I was to see him. Jennie wiggled her finger. Y'know I have a sneaking suspicion that our Mr. Haydon-Smith is a bit of a softie. She didn't wait for Cassidy to comment. John tells me the boss just found out about us last night. So what does he do but get John and me back together. Isn't that romantic? Cassidy fluffed up Jennie's short red hair. Love agreed with her. She looked fabulous. Alex truly cared about John, about Erica, about others who worked for him...and about her. And as Cassidy'd noticed before, Alex did things in a big way. Importing Jennie to Denver just to cement a relationship. Her friend was right, that really was romantic. Grabbing her double-breasted blazer, Cassidy licked her lips and teased, Romance in the Mile High City. Love at the top of the world. Better watch out, Jennie, the rarefied atmosphere can get a little intoxicating.

Hey, as long as John's here, I can handle anything. Jennie pulled on Cassidy's arm. C'mon, they're waiting for us downstairs to take us to lunch. They stepped into the hall. The plush carpeting absorbed their every footstep while soft lights illuminated their way to the elevator. Some fancy place, huh? Jenny grinned. And that lobby. It stretches up as far as the eye can see. Practically touches the sky! Did you notice the opulent red chairs downstairs, the marbled walls, and theCassidy had to smile back. No, to be truthful, I didn't see a thing. Of course Jennie didn't understand. She just shook her head mournfully. How could you not notice? John said one of the restaurants inside this hotel-The Palace Arms-has great French food. The Rocky Mountain Trout Meuniere is supposed to be divine. You know I've always wanted to try French. You have? Struggling to contain her laughter, Cassidy pressed the elevator Down button. The closest thing Jennie ever had to French cuisine was fries at McDonald's. As the elevator zipped downward, a bad case of the butterflies also descended...in Cassidy's stomach. Nervous butterflies. Although she was glad to see her friend and John getting together, she really needed to be alone with Alex so they could settle things. Having another couple around would only delay the reconciliation. And at this

point, each minute apart from Alex was unbearable torture. ~*~ Lunch was rather stilted, at least it was on Cassidy's part. She sat in the exquisite dining room, glancing around at the large collection of antiques and ancient flags, but all the while her thoughts focused on the handsome, powerfully-dressed man across from her. Even the gourmet food couldn't tempt her. She only picked at her steak covered with western sauce Français. Who could feed one's belly when one's heart cried out for love? After the meal, John suggested a stroll down the 16th Street Mall that was just around the corner off Tremont Place. Cassidy gladly agreed. Once outside, John and Jennie were bound to pair off by themselves. Standing at the Brown Palace Hotel's triangular corner, they all waited for the traffic light to change. As soon as the green flickered on, John and Jennie did just as Cassidy had predicted: they walked in front, reaching the pedestrian mall first. They pretended to be interested in the many boutiques and gift shops lining the streets. But Cassidy knew they were only interested in each other. The way she was only interested in Alex. She weaved her arm through his. What would he say when she told him that she loved him? Would he be happy or would her love make him feel confined?

She frowned. That was a sobering thought. He guided her under the shade of the Kittredge Building's green awnings instead of remaining in the glare of the sun. Stroking her hand, he murmured, You seemed preoccupied at lunch. Something on your mind? Yes, oh, yes, she wanted to blurt. Instead, she skirted the issue. She never realized that saying three simple words like, I love you, could be so difficult. I, um, I wanted to thank you for the beautiful roses. Looking into the window at an art exhibit, she studied a blue, yellow, and green-blotched contemporary oil painting displayed inside. Its jumbled colors mirrored the way her insides felt. I also think that was super of you to fly Jennie out here so she and John could be together. Alex rubbed his chin. Was that why I had her come out? I thought it was because the Denver Office requested some help in advertising matters. Sure. Cassidy grinned. And what's the reason for my trip? He steered her toward an outdoor café with picturesque umbrellas shading small, round tables. Let's have a cup of espresso. I think I need to fortify myself. Sitting at the white, steel-mesh table, she waited until he'd ordered their drinks. You haven't

answered my question. He adjusted the black and white striped umbrella so she was covered with its shadow. I know. Perhaps I like having you as my personal personnel assistant. That was no answer. She knew it and he knew it, but before she could reply, the waitress placed two steaming cups of dark espresso in front of them. Its strong aroma seemed to fortify Cassidy as well. The waitress gave them a wink, then left. Maybe the woman knew they were both uneasy. Maybe she knew they were about to have a heart-to-heart talk. With the waitress gone, Cassidy relaxed. Hopefully, there'd be no more interruptions. She looked over at Alex, but he avoided her gaze by watching the casually dressed people milling around in the middle of the street. She sighed. How could she talk about undying love if he persisted in contemplating the yellow fire hydrant! She'd have to make the first move. I haven't had a chance to tell you that I think your new ideas at the company are incredible. Quality daycare and the new dental coverage-people will be beating down the doors to work for Haydon-Smith. When I get back, my office is going to be swamped with new résumés. He curved his hand around his espresso. She could tell he wanted to say something, but he remained quiet. If only she knew what he was thinking.

She had to prompt him. Circling her finger against the outside of his hand, she smiled. Penny for your thoughts? Or should I say a farthing? Groaning, he clasped her hand to his. Cassidy, you don't know what you do to me. What you've been doing to me. I've tried to go slowly. Not to frighten you. But to be honest, I don't think I can take much more of this. She stared at him. What was he talking about? He met her gaze. When you walked out on me Saturday morning, well, I was beside myself-to put it mildly. Took all my restraint not to wring Needham's neck. Although God only knows she deserved neck-wringing. His hand tightened on Cassidy's. Blast it, you know I searched the damned city for you. Loosening his grip, he dropped his gaze. But before he did, his blue eyes reflected suffering. I can't lose you. I won't. > Her heart pounded with love. But Alex, IHe placed his finger on her lips. No, let me finish. I never wanted this CEO position, you see. Always rebelled against my family, did the opposite of what they wanted-hence the beard and my reckless and carefree ways. His smile was crooked. But my uncle died, leaving me next in line, and I reluctantly assumed control. The rest, as they say, is history. She leaned closer and brushed his hair off his

forehead. You're doing a fantastic job. You care about your people and it shows. In fact, you've made more progress in these two weeks than I've seen in the three years since I've been with the company. A hollow achievement, if I can't have you, he said flatly. There was no need for his pain. She loved him. The curve of his ear, the strength in his square jaw, his full and sensuous mouth, his overbearing ways-everything. The more she saw of him, the longer her list grew. Grazing her fingertips over the planes of his cheek, she said softly, Listen, I know we haven't known each other long, butBy God, Cassidy, you're driving me wild! He seized her hand and kissed it. I've never known anyone like you before. My wealth makes no difference to you. Indeed, I'd say it makes you uncomfortable. She smiled. Yes, I now know what filthy rich means. His gaze bore deep into her. It was as if he possessed her very soul. All my life, people have toadied up to me and my family. Looking at me, they only saw multi-millionaire A. E. Haydon-Smith, not Alex-the man-me. Even moneyed women like Veronica Needham. But not you, Cassidy. Flushing, she remembered how she first thought

he was a street vagrant. How wrong she had been. He lifted her chin. Do you think you might give me a chance? I love you, you know. Never thought I'd ever fall in love, but there it is. Didn't think it was possible. Never planned on falling in love with an American. His lips brushed her cheek. I think I loved you from the moment you overcame your aversion to my unbelievably grimy clothes. Oh, Alex. He loved her! Oh, dear God, he loved her! Reaching over, she cupped his face in her hands. I love you so much! I've been trying to work my courage up to tell youYou do? You have? Happiness radiated from him as intensely as heat did from the sun. Then, hush, he commanded. He scooted his chair next to hers and enfolded her in a delicious embrace right there in the outdoor café. His kiss tasted of coffee. His passion whipped her senses into a frenzy. She wanted him-now and forever. When he broke contact, she moaned a protest. His eyes spoke of desire, longing, and love. I promise you, my dear girl, we will finish what we just started. But first I have to make certain you won't get away from me again. She cupped her chin in her hands, content just to look at him. No chance of that happening.

I don't take chances. Pausing for an all-too-brief kiss, he murmured, Do you like Hawaii? She blinked at the sudden switch of topics. He loved her! How could she think about anything except that he loved her? I've never been there. Sounds romantic. So it will be...a perfect honeymoon, with you. He kissed the tip of her nose. I've taken the liberty of getting information for a marriage license. She gasped. He rubbed his chin. I did that wrong, didn't I? Taking her hands, he whispered, Will you marry me, Cassidy? The only sound she heard was her own heartbeat pounding out her answer. Oh, yes! Thank God. He pulled her closer, then gave her a kiss that tingled down to her toes. His unbridled laughter then filled the air. Colorado has no waiting period, you know, for the license. We'll get married today, then fly out to Maui. How does that suit you? Today? This was all happening so fast. She gulped down a ragged breath. But what about your tour of the Denver Office? What about John and Jennie? Marriage-marriage to Alex. An image of her silver-haired mother rose up in her mind. And what about Mom? She'd want to be at our wedding.

Alex gazed deeply into Cassidy's eyes. Your mother has already given us her blessing. When we return, she and my sister will celebrate with us. He kissed her hand. And as for business, John will handle things until we return from our honeymoon. Besides, he also plans to apply for a marriage license. Stroking her face with the tip of his finger, Alex then murmured. We can take as long as we want, Cassidy. No time clocks, no demanding bosses to hurry us-nothing but you and me. He grinned his crooked grin. So, how does Maui suit you? Alex and her, strolling hand in hand on a wind-swept beach-alone and in love? Cassidy smiled contentedly. Suits me just fine!

The End

About the author of Love at the Top >

Susanne Marie Knight currently works as a writer for a fitness program shown on public television. Multi-published with books, short stories, and articles, she used her experiences working in New York to write Love At The Top, a contemporary romance now available at NovelBooks, Inc. She specializes in Romance Writing With A Twist, and her list of books include Janus Is A Two-Headed God, a science fiction romance published by Awe-Struck E-Books; Tainted Tea For Two, a romantic murder mystery published by Hard Shell Word Factory; Lord Darver's Match and The Magic Token, Regency romances published by LionHearted Publishing; Grave Future, a paranormal romantic suspense novel published by LTDBooks; and a short story: A Very Special Christmas Present included in The Winter Holiday Sampler, available through Regency Press. Originally from New York City, Susanne currently lives in the Pacific Northwest, by way of Okinawa, Montana, Alabama, and Florida. Along with her husband, daughter, and feisty Siamese cat, she enjoys the area's beautiful ponderosa pine trees and wide, open spaces-a perfect environment for writing. She has her own website domain: www.susanneknight.com and has her Master of Science degree in Natural Health. You can contact Susanne at [email protected].

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Biography Insert here the Author's Biography