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in life, but she could tell that there was one. One day Etienne would board a plane. And then it would be just her. Without him. Forever.

      She had to stop wanting him. Right now. The wisest thing to do would be to keep her distance from him.

      But that just wasn’t going to happen. At least not yet.

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      EVER since Meg had fallen into Etienne’s arms like a ripe plum, she had been reminding herself that while she might be enjoying herself now, the time would come when it would just be her and Lightning and the occasional foster cats from the shelter. If she was very lucky, she might find some way to have the baby she wanted, but even then, she would be a single adult. It would be a total mistake to start thinking that having Etienne around could continue for more than a few weeks.

      If she did, she was going to die a thousand emotional deaths. And that just couldn’t happen. She needed to channel her fantasies into more productive avenues. No more waking up at three in the morning, dreaming of Etienne in her bed, his lips nuzzled against her neck.

      Her dreams had gotten steadily more dangerous. Because of that, she did her best to foster normalcy at work, to plan for her future as a solo adult. So, she read the books Etienne gave her on management techniques. She signed up for some business classes for the fall at a local college. She watched her employees and concentrated on learning their work habits and tending to their needs not only as a friend but as a manager. And she tried not to notice Etienne, who seemed to be driving himself just as hard as she was.

      He had been meeting with distributors, meeting with buyers, meeting with everyone but her, she couldn’t help noticing. Not that she blamed him. That press conference had been totally outrageous, and possibly embarrassing to Etienne, even if it had spawned a lot of other meetings and a couple of great articles about the company.

      Besides, she knew why Etienne was driving himself so hard. There was another reason. When she had pried into his personal life that day, he hadn’t mentioned the date of his wife’s death, but Meg knew it just the same. There had been rumors in those online articles she’d read about him that last year Etienne had closed himself up in a hotel room and not come out for two weeks. The date was approaching fast. He was obviously trying to work hard, either to punish himself or to forget. Either avenue wasn’t healthy.

      That just wasn’t acceptable. Somehow she needed to be a better friend and partner.

      Meg put down the papers she had been looking at and wandered out to find Etienne. She found him with Andy, a computer specialist who moonlighted as a graphic artist. Both men looked up when she came near.

      “Look at this, Meg,” Etienne said. “This is a mock-up of some ads I thought we might run locally. What do you think?”

      She thought that no one other than Mary would have ever asked her that kind of question in the past, but both men looked at her as if expecting her to make an intelligent contribution to the conversation. Warmth swirled through Meg.

      “I think the ad and the graphics project have exactly the kind of new look we want for Fieldman’s.” She hesitated.

      “But…” Etienne coached.

      Meg looked at Andy.

      “Give it to me, boss,” he said. “Don’t hold back.”

      “The font just seems a bit too…”

      “I knew it,” Andy said. “It’s too cartoonish. I should have known.”

      Automatically Meg placed her hand on his shoulder. “No, the whole thing looks great, very visually appealing, and I think in other instances we might use this particular font. Maybe down the line once we’ve started winning people over. For now, do you have something…I don’t know. Bold but still classic? Slightly edgier but not so much so that people will notice the font before the furniture?”

      “Yes, that’s the problem, isn’t it?” he said. “I think…Yes, I’ve got just the thing. I’ll change this and get it back to you asap. And, Ms. Leighton?”

      She blinked. She still wasn’t used to people calling her Ms. Leighton.

      “Good eye,” the man said. “Mr. Gavard and I knew that something was off just a bit, but we hadn’t decided what.” And he went back to his work as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

      For Meg, however, it was an amazing moment.

      “I know it’s nothing,” she told Etienne, “but I didn’t really feel as if I was helping all that much until this moment. It felt as if I was playing at the job.”

      “You’re joking, right? You’ve been running rings around all of us, Meg.”

      “Not you.”

      “Even me. You have a seemingly endless abundance of energy.” And then he smiled. There were those intriguing sexy dimples again. Her breathing kicked in. She concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths so that he wouldn’t see how he affected her.

      “I just…when I’m worried, I tend to move faster, talk faster, do everything faster,” she admitted.

      “We’re doing as much as we can. I don’t want you to make yourself sick,” he said.

      “And I don’t want you to make yourself sick, either.” She raised her chin.

      Etienne considered that. “I feel fine.”

      “You’re driving yourself.”

      “Bad habit,” he admitted.

      “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

      “Don’t you, Meg?” he asked, and his words sounded like a caress. “Why not?”

      “Because.” She crossed her arms.

      He grinned. “Good reason.”

      “I’m working on the reason. No, I know what the reason is, but you might think it’s silly.”

      “There’s nothing wrong with silly. Sometimes.”

      She considered that. “It’s just…you’ve been in Chicago for weeks. Have you actually seen any of the city? That is, I know that you know a lot about it, but while you’ve been here you haven’t had time to do anything except take care of Fieldman’s and me.”

      “Ah, you’re worrying. Don’t worry, Meg. I like taking care of you.”

      Those words, that deep voice, the way he was looking at her…For a second, Meg wanted to purr like Lightning, to lean in to him. But this wasn’t about her giving in to her foolish desires.

      “Well…” she said. “That’s…that’s nice, but now I think it’s time that I took care of you.”

      He raised that brow.

      “Don’t do that.”

      “Don’t do what?”

      “You know. That thing you do with your eyebrow. You’re trying to distract me.”

      He looked mildly amused. “I didn’t know it distracted you.”

      She gave him a “you’ve got to be kidding” look, but she had made the comment about his eyebrow without thinking and now her thoughts were catching up to her words…as usual. It was probably better not to pursue this topic any further. She didn’t want to have to admit how susceptible to him she was.

      “All this time you’ve been the one guiding me. I think…I want to be the one to do the guiding this time. Will you have some free time after work?”

      “For…?”

      “Sightseeing. Playtime. You actually taking a breather from work and getting out into the city for something other than baby-sitting all of us.

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