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not a slave driver, Shannon.” His lips lifted in a boyish smile before he became all business again. “At a minimum I would require you to be here between the hours of midnight to noon, Monday through Friday. However, I’d prefer that during the working week you remain on duty until six p.m. That would allow me to have some sleep knowing Ollie is safe under your care.”

      Though he was proposing some pretty long hours, she would have every evening free. Other than Rachel, most of her friends worked eight-to-five jobs, and this really would be no different. “What about weekends?”

      “Those days are yours.”

      She tapped her index finger against her bottom lip. “It’s tempting.”

      “I’d like you to start immediately.”

      “You’re getting ahead of yourself, Bucko.” The word, commonly used by Shannon and her sibs, slipped out before her lips could trap it and swallow it whole.

      “Bucko?” Oliver raised one dark brow. “I don’t believe I’m familiar with the term.”

      His lips twitched ever so slightly.

      Sheesh, the guy was appealing. And that was part of her concern.

      Shannon jerked her gaze from those lips and squared her shoulders. There was no getting around it. The elephant in the room had to be addressed. “There’s one thing we haven’t yet discussed. How you respond may be the difference between my accepting your offer or respectfully declining it.”

      Oliver’s eyes turned flat. He folded his hands before him on the table, his gaze never wavering from her face. “You have my undivided attention.”

      The fact that Oliver was being so businesslike should have made it easier to spit out the words stuck in her throat. But somehow, having those blue eyes focused so intently on her made her feel like a schoolgirl about to admit to a crush. Dear God, what if she’d only imagined the chemistry between them?

      Shannon shifted in her seat and hesitated, despite knowing there was nothing to do at this point but take a deep breath and plunge ahead.

      She focused her gaze on a spot over his left shoulder. “Ever since we’ve met, I’ve noticed this crazy kind of electricity between us. That’s why I think it’s important we agree up front to keep things strictly platonic between us. Giving in to the attraction would only complicate the situation.”

      She was out of breath by the time she finished. Had he been able to understand what she was trying to say? She’d spoken so fast—too fast—the words tripping over each other in her haste to get them out.

      “Electricity?”

      Of course if he was going to pick one word to focus on, it would naturally be that one. But it was the twinkle in those blue eyes that had her jerking to her feet, a hot flush shooting up her neck.

      “Forget it. Forget I said anything. This isn’t going to work.” To her horror, her voice shook slightly.

      It wasn’t the hint of amusement in his eyes that had gotten to her. It was the frustration of not being able to make herself heard. Of her concerns and feelings being summarily dismissed.

      That’s how it had been with Jerry the Jerk. No matter how many different ways she’d told him to back off—that she wasn’t interested—he never heard her.

       Because he didn’t want to hear what I had to say. Because I didn’t matter.

      As emotions flooded her, Shannon whirled toward the door.

      She’d taken only a step or two when Oliver grabbed her arm, his expression contrite.

      “I didn’t mean to wind you up.” He loosened his grip but didn’t let go. “You have my word as a gentleman that I will never take advantage of you while you’re under my roof and in my employ.”

      Shannon blew out a shaky breath and swayed slightly, conscious of his hand on her arm. He stood an arm’s breadth away, near enough for the intoxicating scent of his cologne to tease her nostrils and make her want to lean close.

      Step back, she told herself. She needed to put some distance between her and Oliver. That way she could think. That way she could breathe.

      But her feet were as heavy and unmoving as if rooted in concrete. At that moment Shannon didn’t have the energy—or the desire—to move.

      Instead she tilted her head back and once again found herself drowning in the shockingly blue depths of Oliver’s eyes.

      Oliver stepped toward her, hand outstretched.

      The heat in his gaze ignited a fire in her belly.

      A zillion butterflies fluttered in her chest. Shannon moistened her lips and, as she caught another whiff of his cologne, reconsidered her hardline stance of only a moment ago.

       One kiss.

      What would really be wrong with one little kiss?

      After all, people shook hands all the time to seal a deal. How would this be any different? Even as the rational piece of her brain still capable of cognizant thought told her it was indeed very different, she extended her hand.

      Shannon waited for him to take her fingers and tug her to him. Waited for that magic moment when he would enfold her in a warm embrace before covering her mouth with his...

      Her lips were already tingling with anticipation when his hand closed over hers and he gave it a decisive shake. “To new beginnings.”

      Even as a tsunami-sized wave of disappointment washed over her, Shannon forced herself to breathe and made her lips curve in an easy smile.

      Regroup, she told herself.

      Her father always said actions spoke louder than words. By his actions, Oliver had shown he was a man of his word. A man she could trust. There was something even more important Shannon had learned today.

      She had more to fear from herself than from him.

      * * *

      Happy Hour at the Hollows Cantina had been going for close to two hours by the time Shannon strolled through the front door. She wasn’t surprised to find standing-room-only in the bar area.

      Her friends tried to squeeze her in at their table, but even if she could have located a spare chair, there was no room for one more.

      “That’s okay.” Shannon waved a hand in the direction of the bar. “I’ll just mingle.”

      “I’m coming with you.” Rachel’s heels had barely hit the shiny hardwood before her chair was snatched away.

      Good old Rachel, Shannon thought with a warm rush of affection. She could always count on her.

      The two women wove their way through the crowd, stopping every few feet to chat with friends and acquaintances while keeping an eye out for a couple of empty spots at the bar. They finally snagged two stools when a young couple got up abruptly and hurried off, hands all over each other.

      “Get a room,” someone yelled, and laughter rippled through the crowd.

      A bartender approached to wipe the counter and take their order.

      “The nachos are my treat,” Shannon announced.

      Rachel narrowed her gaze. “What’s got you feeling so generous?”

      “Tonight is a special occasion.” Shannon smiled her thanks as the bartender placed a bottle of Corona beer sporting a wedge of lime in front of her. Before he rushed off he assured her the nachos would be out shortly. “We’re celebrating.”

      The half-finished bottle Rachel had brought with her from the table paused midway to her lips and a smile blossomed on her mouth. “You know I adore happy news. Clue me in. What are we celebrating?”

      Shannon raised the beer

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