Be Your Everything [All for Love] (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (4 page)

“You can use this computer, Matthew. I’ll check with Mr. Grayson and get back to you.”

Was it her imagination or did he look disappointed? Did he object to the sterile setting? Did he think he was too good for the fishbowl? Or did he maybe, just maybe, want to work closer to her?

“That’ll be fine, Heather. Let me know.” Neutral inflection in his voice.

She nodded uncertainly and headed back to her desk. Mr. Grayson was back from lunch, his door now open, and he frowned at her from the depths of his office.
Uh-oh.
Heather diffidently approached.

“You’re late.”

He thought she’d just come back from lunch. Crap. Heather glanced covertly back at her computer. Had she shut it down? Matthew’s proximity addled her brain. “No, sir. Mr. Bourke came and indicated I was to get him settled, that you were authorizing him access to the system.”

“Oh. Right, then. Did you put him out in the fish bowl?”

“Yes. May I give him access?”

“That’s what he’s here for, Heather.” Mr. Grayson spoke with asperity. “The parent company wants him to liaise with us, so give him access. I think it’s ridiculous, but it has to be done. I don’t have to like it.”

She said nothing. Mr. G never talked to her like this. He hardly talked to her at all except to give her orders and tasks. Maybe Moesha was right. Maybe they
were
looking over his shoulder. She dismissed her thoughts as fanciful. It was business and Heather didn’t concern herself with it. She did her job, saved her money, and was now counting the days to get the hell out of Dodge. Matthew’s appearance this morning galvanized something within her and she was grateful to him. She was energized and needed to channel it somewhere she’d have some success and enjoyment in life.

“Certainly, Mr. Grayson. I’ll get him set up. Is there anything else?”

“No. Oh, I suppose you could tell him where he can get a meal, that kind of thing, and keep him out of my hair as much as possible. I need the stats I asked for, too. I’m busy and year end is coming up.”

Mr. G motioned her away with an impatient flick of his bony hand and she withdrew, shutting his door. Grumpy Grayson. It would be fun to keep Matthew out of his thinning hair. Nothing was going to spoil her newfound lease on life. She checked to make sure her computer was shut down. It was, because old habits die hard, so Heather hustled to where Matthew was waiting, stopping to grab him a couple of legal pads, pencils and pens and assorted office paraphernalia.

He sat in front of the generic desk, slouched back in the chair, arms akimbo. She slowed down to appreciate his handsome profile. He must have heard her coming. She didn’t have the stealthy skills he possessed. Heather was unprepared for the look he gave her, one of those head-to-toe, all-encompassing looks. It was a “man checking out woman” stare, and not at all offensive, although she was a tad biased. It stole her breath, made her toes curl a little, and nearly made her stumble.

* * * *

Heather walked his way, clutching some pads of paper, her other hand sprouting pens and pencils. She had a smooth, relaxed gait, making the most of her tidy little body, although appeared to hesitate a bit when she met his gaze. He hadn’t missed her antipathy toward Chrystal, a walking hormone, but everyone else was warm and friendly with Heather. Nobody said a word about Grayson and the absence of commentary told Manny something, too. He needed to keep his mind on the job because the little woman now setting her burdens down on his desk filled his thoughts with far more enjoyable, extracurricular activities. He felt her warmth and scented her and that same part of his body took more notice than acceptable in a professional environment.

Heather wrote the codes out for him and cautioned him to shred them once he had them memorized. He nodded solemnly and assured her he’d do exactly that.

“May I take you out to dinner?” Okay. That was front brain.

“Excuse me?” Heather stepped back and stared at him in consternation. She worried that bottom lip again and he warred with arousal.
Not professional, Manny. Pull it together.

“Dinner?” He patiently repeated his request.

“Oh, dinner. I thought you’d maybe want to go for lunch. Tomorrow. You’ve already had lunch.”

How did she know he’d had lunch? It made sense, but she’d said it with such certainty. Did he have pizza breath?

“You have a little spot of tomato sauce on your shirt. Right there. It wasn’t there earlier.”

Heather’s little hand reached toward his chest, one nicely manicured finger pointing. Not those wide white chiclet fingertips or the two-toned lacquer women of all ages sported recently. Just a naked little nail cut short enough to type with and all the more feminine for that. He followed the direction of her gaze and finger and saw the tiny spot. Heather Jean Graham didn’t miss much. She’d know a lot about Grayson even if she was disinterested. It was Manny’s
duty
to cultivate her.

“Thanks. I’ll make sure to spot remove.”

Heather flushed and he regretted his flippant remark. Before he lost any more ground he put on his “I’m new to this city and could use your help” look. “Dinner?”

“Okay. Come by my office at five.”

“No earlier, Heather?” Shit, he just had to tease her, let her know he was aware she’d left early for lunch. But it was probably okay to keep her off guard. The things he felt for this woman could easily get in the way of the investigation if he didn’t throttle back on them. Better she felt a little off-balance. It would keep him in the driver’s seat, this pull disconcerting him, and not a little.

* * * *

It was amazing. The busy restaurant with its full tables, frantic waitstaff, and loud background music should have been distracting or ramped up his vigilance. But instead, he was in a little bubble of space with a sweet, little woman who totally engaged him. Manny forgot about his surroundings and the hardness of the wooden chair, intent on the scintillating conversation and how Heather’s moods reflected in her face. Those blue eyes widened and narrowed intriguingly and her cute little mouth smiled and pursed, making him ache.

The food was mediocre and the service indifferent, but it didn’t cast a pall on the evening. Turned out Heather was a vegetarian and her discussion with their server was an exercise in negotiation and cajolery. Fascinating. A few sips of wine seemed to bring a little more color to her face but the animation was there right from the beginning. He liked her, and the pull intensified.

“So, do you like your work?” He tried to switch the events of the evening back to doing his job.

Heather took another sip of her wine before carefully setting the glass back onto the coaster. She gave a tiny shrug and he fought not to let his eyes stray to the way her breasts moved behind the fabric of her top with the motion of her shoulders.

“It’s okay. I’ve worked for Mr. Grayson longer than anyone else, and I’m comfortable with the job.” She laughed, and he liked the sound of that too.

“Has he always had temporary secretaries?”

“No. His last one retired and I guess he liked my work when I subbed for her. And he had a personal assistant…”

When she tailed off, Manny picked up. “Something not so comfortable?”

In a hushed voice, avoiding his eyes, Heather said, “Her name was Meredith Fox. I was only Mr. Grayson’s secretary for awhile when she died.”

Manny waited, using his interrogation skills reluctantly, but out of habit. Heather sighed and looked up at him. “I’m not sure I should even tell you. Head office will know, but…Meredith was murdered outside the building. She was working late. I didn’t know her well but it’s sad.”

“I’m sorry. Are the staff afraid?”

She looked startled. “I suppose we all were for awhile. Nobody worked late, or if they did they went out to the parking lot in twos and threes.”

“You don’t work late.” His flat, harsh tone surprised him, turning his question into a statement, and Heather blinked. But he was unaccountably worried for her. Not that he wouldn’t be concerned for any staff meeting the same fate as Meredith, but Heather? It was unconscionable.

“I don’t work late. Mr. Grayson is a nine-to-five boss now.”

“Good.” He cast around for something to lighten the moment. “You’ve always wanted to be a secretary?”

“No. Just something I had to do at the time. It’s okay, although I’m wondering if it’s what I want to do for the rest of my life.”

“What
would
you like to do with it?” It hardly applied to the investigation, but Manny found he really wanted to know.

“Oh, maybe finish college now money isn’t such an issue.”

Money. He felt his back stiffen. Damn it. She’d made a perfectly innocent statement, but a secretary’s salary wasn’t enormous. He smiled encouragingly, waiting for her to continue.

“My dad’s insurance finally paid out a couple of years back, so now I don’t have to worry about my mom, at least not financially. She’s, um, not well and needs someone around a lot. We decided a residential care home was a better plan for her.”

When she stopped speaking, looking somewhat surprised, Manny gently drew a finger down the back of her hand. “Sounds like it was difficult.”

Shrugging again, she replied, “I’m used to it. Not that I talk about it. So, do you have a family?”

She didn’t pull her hand away, and he placed his much larger one on top of hers, accepting the change in subject. Heather seemed shocked she had shared so much with him. But then that was what he was good at—interviewing people. He found he didn’t like making Heather a subject of an investigation.

They chatted about his family—he didn’t prevaricate, opening up and sharing as she had. For some reason he wanted Heather to know about the real man, despite maintaining his undercover role. He drew a few more comments from her about Grayson over the course of the evening, but she clearly knew very little about her boss despite her attention to detail.

Grayson was obsessively private, keeping his door closed, doing much of his own work, something that puzzled Heather but she apparently accepted it, having worked for several individuals who had different quirks. She noted that her boss was obsessive about his lunch hours.

“He’s out of that office at noon sharp and back at one. It’s like he has a date with his bookie or something!” Heather’s eyes grew enormous and she pulled her hand from his to cover her mouth.

“I did not just say that,” she breathed. “I have an overactive imagination and read too much. I watch too much TV too.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” Manny reassured her.

“He hates gossip. I’d lose my job.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” If only she knew what her boss was suspected of, Heather would realize an indiscreet comment was the last thing to worry about.

The evening went too quickly. Manny didn’t remember tasting anything he put in his mouth, although longed to taste Heather’s. He basked in her smile and enjoyed her laughter, finding that he worked hard to share funny and interesting stories with her.

“It’s late. I should get home.” Heather glanced around and raised her eyebrows. “We’re the last diners! How did that happen?”

It was his turn to shrug. “I didn’t notice. I was having too good a time.”

Those little white teeth pulled at that bottom lip again and he just managed not to close his eyes the better to savor it, or leap over the table at her. She then smiled, blue eyes soft. “Me too.”

“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?” Manny decided he needed more time to investigate Heather Graham.

“Want to have dinner at my place?” It seemed to him Heather held her breath. Was she thinking he’d refuse? Not bloody likely.

“Vegetarian?” He had to tease her. And how had that happened so easily?

“Maybe. I can do marvellous things with tofu.” At his shudder, she laughed and again it went straight to his libido.

“Want me to take you home straight from work tomorrow?”

“No. I need to pick up a few things. Seven okay?”

Manny thought midnight or two in the morning would be okay.
Anytime
would work as long as he got to see her again. “I’ll drive you home tonight and make it easy to find your place tomorrow.”

It was touching how Heather scrabbled in her purse to pay “her share” of the bill. In his experience no woman had ever reached to pay for anything when they were out on a date. Although he supposed they weren’t really on a date. He forestalled her, albeit with some difficulty. She finally backed off when he reminded her she’d be cooking for him.

The drive to her home was made in near silence, broken only by the occasional direction provided by Heather, the murmur of the radio and the faint road noise. Manny felt the tension between them, not an uncomfortable kind, but intensely aware. And from the little glances Heather flicked his way he believed she felt it too. He parked in visitor parking and walked her to the door. She didn’t ask him in and he somehow managed not to kiss her good night, offering his hand instead. She clasped it and gave him a tremulous smile when he squeezed it.

“See you at the office tomorrow.” His voice was a little hoarse in his ears as he struggled against the chemistry between them.

“Don’t be late. Mr. Grayson doesn’t allow it.” The sound of her boss’s name cooled his jets.

“I’ll be on time,” he promised.
And on time for dinner too.

Heather knew it was going to happen, right here in her home. She and Matthew were going to make love. She was really glad she’d shaved everything requiring it that morning in the shower, glad she wore the matching pale-pink underwear set with the taupe lace accents. Her need for Matthew escalated throughout the evening and she was fully aware of the impact she had on him. Not only did he look at her with darkened eyes, heated and aroused, but he invaded her personal space and she felt his hardness pressed against her belly. His kisses became more insistent, deeper, and his big hands became bolder, touching her under her clothing, slipping up her silk-covered legs beneath her skirt to caress her thighs.