LITMIR.BIZ

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      She laughed shortly, harshly and hoped it sounded convincing. ‘‘Yeah. That must be it—go away? Go away where?’’

      ‘‘Temecula.’’

      ‘‘In Riverside county?’’

      ‘‘Is there another one?’’

      ‘‘No, but—’’

      Rick walked across the room, stared out the window for a long minute, then turned to look at her again. ‘‘Edward Harrington was my first client when I opened my business.’’ Rick shrugged. ‘‘He took a chance on me. Twice a year, I go out to Riverside to look over his portfolio and discuss changes and investments.’’

      ‘‘You go to him?’’

      Rick smiled. ‘‘Most independents go to their customers.’’

      ‘‘Still. One customer’s going to take all weekend?’’

      ‘‘No, but Edward referred me to some of his golf buddies and I see all of them when I go out there. I’m seeing Edward tomorrow and then the others on Saturday.’’

      ‘‘So you work all week and then even more on the weekend.’’

      ‘‘Uh-huh.’’ He studied her for a long, thoughtful minute, unfolded his arms, then waved both hands at her. ‘‘You know what? Never mind. You’re right.’’

      Wary now, Eileen watched him. It wasn’t like him to change tactics so suddenly. ‘‘I’m right about what?’’

      ‘‘I can’t ask you to go.’’

      ‘‘You already did,’’ she pointed out.

      ‘‘I take it back.’’

      ‘‘What?’’ she said. Turning around, he walked back into his office. She was right behind him. Rick smiled at her hurried footsteps as she raced to catch up. ‘‘You take it back?’’ she asked. ‘‘What are you, in third grade?’’

      ‘‘Nope.’’ He walked around behind his desk and took a seat. Keeping his gaze averted from hers, Rick shuffled through the piles of financial reports on his desk. The minute he’d asked her to go along, he’d known she’d refuse. And maybe that was how he should leave it. It’d be a hell of a lot safer. But damn it, he wanted her to go with him. Wanted her away from the office and on neutral territory. Wanted her—hell.

      He just wanted her. ‘‘I’m just being logical,’’ he said. ‘‘I can handle the work without you. And you’d hate it anyway and I don’t blame you. You’d be bored.’’

      ‘‘Bored?’’

      ‘‘Sure.’’ He glanced at her. Her eyes were flashing. It was working. Damn, she hadn’t changed a bit. For one brief second, he wished he’d been wrong and that she had simply said, Okay fine. See you. Then that feeling was gone and he was prodding her again. ‘‘Besides, like I said, I can handle this alone. I’ll take a laptop with me. Type up my own notes.’’

      She snorted.

      He glanced at her. ‘‘I don’t need a secretary after all,’’ he went on, warming to his theme now that he was on a roll. Eileen was reacting just as he’d known she would. Just as she always had. Tell her she couldn’t do something and there was nothing she wanted to do more. Like the time when she was ten and her gran told her that she couldn’t hang on to a car bumper while on her skateboard. Naturally, she’d done it anyway, the car made a sharp right turn and Eileen had broken her wrist when she crashed into Mrs. Murphy’s trash cans.

      Maybe it was a mistake to challenge her hard enough so that she would come along for the weekend, but damned if he could resist the idea. He hadn’t felt this kind of attraction for a woman before. And it was bloody hard to deny it.

      Her green eyes were stormy and he could actually see thoughts and emotions pinwheeling through her mind. God, she was so easy to read. And he enjoyed it after years of looking at a woman and wondering just what the hell she was thinking behind her cool, polite mask of interest.

      ‘‘You don’t need a secretary?’’ she said. ‘‘You, who types with two fingers?’’

      One eyebrow lifted. ‘‘Speed won’t be required. Just accuracy.’’

      She frowned at him, turning that delicious-looking mouth into a pout that made him want to bite her. Oh yeah, it’d be much better—safer—if she told him no. Damn, he hoped she didn’t. ‘‘I can handle note taking. I’ll bring a tape recorder or something. You can type everything up on Monday.’’

      ‘‘I could go with you.’’

      ‘‘Well, of course you could,’’ Rick said, watching her as she leaned both hands on the front of his desk. The high collar of her business shirt dipped just a bit and he caught a tantalizingly small peek at her chest. But just that tiny glimpse was enough to make him hard—and damn grateful to be sitting behind his desk. Clearing his throat, he continued, ‘‘I’m just saying, there’s no reason to. I wouldn’t want to put you out.’’

      She pushed up from the desk, planted both hands at her hips and countered, ‘‘I’m working for you. It’s part of the job.’’

      ‘‘I can’t ask you to go away with me for the weekend.’’ He kept arguing, knowing it was in her nature to dig in her heels. She was absolutely the most contrary woman he’d ever met. She fascinated him. ‘‘Wouldn’t be fair.’’

      ‘‘Fair?’’ she repeated. ‘‘Now we’re talking about fair?’’

      ‘‘Hey.’’ Rick leaned back in his chair, gripped the arms and said, ‘‘I’m only trying to be reasonable.’’

      ‘‘Uh-huh. Where’s the meeting?’’ she asked, tapping the toe of one shoe against the carpet with a staccato beat.

      He hid a smile at the temper already rising inside her. He should feel guilty about manipulating her into this, but he didn’t. ‘‘Eileen, it’s not necessary for you to go.’’

      ‘‘I’m going.’’ She glared at him. ‘‘I’m your secretary and it’s my job.’’

      ‘‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’’

      ‘‘Deal with it,’’ she said. ‘‘Honestly, you wanted me to work for you and then when I say I am, you say no.’’

      ‘‘Just trying to be fair.’’

      ‘‘Well, quit it.’’

      ‘‘Okay.’’ He held up both hands and surrendered. ‘‘Didn’t know it would mean this much to you.’’

      ‘‘Now you know.’’

      ‘‘I appreciate it.’’

      ‘‘No problem.’’ She inhaled sharply and blew it out again in a rush. ‘‘Where do you want me to make reservations?’’

      ‘‘The Hammond Inn will work. Their number’s in the Rolodex.’’

      ‘‘Fine,’’ she said, and turned to leave the room.

      ‘‘Get a two-bedroom suite. We can work in the living area.’’

      Eileen stopped and looked back over her shoulder at him. His brown eyes looked rich and dark and impossibly deep. Her insides twisted suddenly and she heard herself say, ‘‘I’m not going to sleep with you, you know.’’

      His eyes narrowed. ‘‘Don’t recall asking you to.’’

      ‘‘Okay then.’’ She blew out a breath and nodded sharply. ‘‘Just so we’re clear.’’

      ‘‘Crystal.’’

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