Forever After (Montana Brides) (11 page)

“Five minutes.”

Emily yelled toward the house, “Five minutes, mom,” then disappeared.

“I’d offer to put sunscreen on you, but I’d probably get growled at.”
 

Nicky glanced at Sam, trying to work out if he was serious or deluded. Pulling the hat more squarely onto her head, she decided deluded suited his mood better.
 

“Come on sleepyhead. I’ve only got a few minutes to speak with you, and I want to get this off my chest now.” Grabbing her arm, he hauled her from her seat.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“What I should have done a week ago.” He smiled at the blush stealing down her neck. “Think nice thoughts, Nicky.”

Sam led her down the steps beside the patio, stopping under the shade of an oak tree.
 

“This isn’t necessary,” Nicky spluttered.

“I disagree. I think it’s more than necessary. What happened between us doesn’t happen all the time. We’ve got something special and I’m not prepared to let your stubborn, mule-headedness stand in the way of a relationship between us.”

 
The heat from his body surged between them. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Nicky glared at him. “There is no relationship and I’m not stubborn. What happened was a mistake, and it won’t happen again.”

“Why not?”

“You’re my boss.” Among other things. But she wasn’t going to mention the reckless urges that overrode common sense whenever he was around.

“Only for the next four weeks,” he said.

“And at the end of the four weeks I’m heading home, back to my company. There’s no point even thinking about anything happening between us.”

“Forget about sex for a minute.”

Nicky raised her eyebrows. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

A dull blush raced along his cheeks. “If you think I can forget about what happened, you’re wrong,” he growled. “What we can do is learn to live with it, and be friends. The wall you’ve built around yourself has to come down.”

Staring out across her parent’s ranch, she tilted her nose in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
 

Silence filled the warm evening with prickles of attitude, skimming under her skin until she had no choice but to look at the man invading her personal space.

Jamming his hands in his pockets, he glared at her. “I’m talking about barricading yourself in your office. You work over ten hours a day without speaking to anyone. The only time you come near me is when you need to report on your progress.”

“That’s not true. I speak with plenty of people involved in my project. If this conversation’s about me not stopping by your office to flirt with the boss then you’re wasting your breath.” Crossing her fingers, she hoped he’d get annoyed enough to drop the subject like a cold fish.
 

She knew exactly what he meant, but being friendly to him wasn’t going to work. Nicky was an all or nothing kind of woman. She wanted to give him everything, so she had no choice but to give him nothing.
 

“No, it’s not about flirting with the boss,” he growled. “It’s about taking responsibility for your actions, and treating people with respect. Have you been happy working with me?”

Plastering a fake smile on her face, she glanced across at him. “Perfectly.”

“I’m not giving up. You might be the most screwed up female I’ve ever met, but one of these days you’re going to come to your senses.” He moved in close until she could feel his breath against her face. “And I’ll be waiting.”

Nicky’s heart raced. She could feel the pulse at the base of her neck pounding against her skin. Hot brown eyes stared unblinkingly at her. Biting her lip, she tried to stem the rising panic threatening to overwhelm her. She stepped back, needing to get as much distance between their overheated bodies as she could manage.

“Do you care about anything I’ve said?” he asked.

Nicky moved around him and headed up the stone steps. “I’ll make an effort to be more pleasant.”

A groan of frustration was the only reply she got.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Why are you asking for employee files?”

Nicky looked up from her desk, frowning at the man standing in the middle of her office. “What are you talking about?”

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Sam kept staring at her. “You know very well what I’m talking about. Three files were requested. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is that you’ve barged into my office, looking for a fight. If you want to discuss this like two grown adults then have a seat and we’ll talk. Otherwise I’m busy.”

He marched across her office, yanking a chair close to her desk.
 

Nicky took a deep breath. If the grim look on Sam’s face was any indication of the foul mood he was in, she’d need her all her wits about her to win this conversation. “How do you know what I requested? Have you been snooping through my work?” Pushing back from her desk, she swiveled in her seat, meeting his gaze head on.
 

“I’m the chief executive of this company,” he growled. “I don’t snoop.”

Putting her pen down, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Two could play his game, and she was an expert at follow the leader. “So maybe ‘snoop’ is too common a word. How about spying or even collecting corporate intelligence, if that makes you feel more comfortable?”

Leaning forward, he glared some more. “What makes me feel comfortable is knowing exactly what you’re up to. You never mentioned in your report three days ago that you were looking at specific staff.”

“That’s because three days ago I wasn’t looking at specific staff.”

“Don’t get smart with me, Nicky Scotson. I know how that brain of yours works, and pulling staff records means you’re getting ready to nail someone for fraud.”

Her blood pressure started to rise. Gripping the arms of her chair, she glared right back. “If you knew how my brain worked, Sam Delaney, you wouldn’t have burst into my office like a bee whose sting has just been ripped out of its body. When I took this job, I told you that you weren’t allowed to interfere with the investigation. That rule still stands.” Taking a deep breath, she sat back in her seat. “If you have any questions you’d like to ask me, fire away. If not, I really need to get on with my work.”

“Why did you select the three personnel files that were sent through to you?”

“Are you asking me in general, or about one in particular?” she asked.
 

His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.
 

Pushing her feet against the floor, she forced herself not to look away from his furious scowl.

“Why was Patrick O’Flynn’s name on one of the files you requested?”

Her gaze shot to the folder on her desk. As soon as question marks started appearing around Patrick’s involvement in the financial operations of the company, she knew she’d have to be very careful. At some point, Sam would find out about her request. She hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly.
 

“I wanted to find out what projects he’d been involved in with this company, and to look at his previous work history.”

“An idiot could have told me that,” he snarled. “What I want to know is why you’re looking at him as part of your investigation?”
 

Her toes started to cramp. Slipping her shoes off under her desk, she flexed her foot on the wooden floor. “I’m not linking Patrick to the missing money at this stage. I asked for three files, not one. I’ll let you know the outcome once I have more information for you.” Another spasm twisted the muscles in her toes into tight knots. If she didn’t move soon, she’d end up howling in agony.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sam growled. “You look like someone’s sticking you with pins.”

Pushing down hard on the floor, she arched her foot, trying to ease the pain bringing tears to her eyes. “For cripes sake,” she snapped. “I’ve got cramp in my toes and it’s driving me insane. If I don’t get up and move I’m going to lose what self control I’ve got and boot your handsome butt out my door.” Vaulting from her chair, she started walking briskly around her office on tippy toes.

Sam sat back in his chair, his mouth clamped shut as he watched her dodge office furniture and an unwelcome visitor. “Your shoes are far too high and you don’t eat enough salt.”

“Excuse me?” she barked.

“Salt and shoes, that’s your problem.”

Another spasm hit her feet. “No. My problem is you. You and your control freak tendencies.”

A grin slipped across his face. “No need to get personal, Nicky. I’m only doing my job.”

Panting between spasms, she managed a quick glance in his direction. “No, you’re not doing your job.” With a sigh of relief, she flexed her feet. In a quieter voice, she said, “You’re looking out for a friend.” Taking a tentative step, she tried walking normally. No cramp. “I can almost forgive your attitude. If it was my friend who’d waved a few red flags under an investigators nose, then I’d want to know what was going on too.”
 

Another cramp rolled through her foot. A growl escaped her mouth as she tiptoed around the office. “I’m not asking you to stay. I’m sure you’ve got a million and one more pressing things to do than watch me deal with foot cramp.”

“You’re right. I do have more to do than watch you.” Lifting himself out of his chair, he walked across the room. “I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

Nicky continued her circuit of her room, praying the knots in her foot would disappear as fast as Sam had arrived.

“Where’s the prima ballerina gone?”

Nicky dropped her pen. “Jeez, Sam. Do you ever think about knocking first?

“Nope. I like catching you off guard.”
 

Sniffing the air, she looked at Sam’s arms, clutching something behind his back. “Are you hiding an addiction to fast food?”

“Busted.” From behind his back he pulled out two bags of hot fries and a pair of sandals. At her raised eyebrows, he said, “For medicinal purposes.” He dropped one bag on her desk. “Double salt, double ketchup.”

The tempting aroma wafting around the room sent her saliva glands to heaven. “Why?”

“Salt deficiency. Not enough salt in your body can cause muscle cramps.”

“So can pregnancy.” She clamped her hand over her mouth.
 

Sam’s face went white. He dropped into the chair opposite her desk. “Are you telling me something I should know or passing on medical knowledge?”

Nicky sank low into her chair. “Passing on medical knowledge,” she mumbled.

He scowled. “You shouldn’t say things like that when I’m doing you a favor.”

She nodded.

Giving her a cautious look, Sam reached toward the floor. “Which leads me onto my next cure for cramp.” He swung a pair of brown and cream sandals between his fingers. “As much as high heels turn me on, they’re no good for your feet.”

Nicky’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t say things like that. It’s called sexual harassment.”

Sam gazed innocently at her. “You’d get more people’s attention if you described sexual harassment as what you were doing on top of me a couple of weeks ago, when you moved your…”

“Sam!” Heat exploded on her face. Snatching the sandals out of his hand, she peered at the label. “How did you know what size to buy?”

With a satisfied grin on his face, he said, “I rang Emily.”

“Emily?” Nicky shrieked. “You rang my sister to see what shoe size I wear?” She barely took any notice of the nod from across the desk. “She’s going to wonder what you’re up to. And then she’s going to ring Erin and before you know it half of Bozeman will know you bought me sandals.”

“The lady in the shop said this style’s good for people who suffer from foot conditions. I think she thought I was buying them for someone who had infected toes.”

“I’ll give you infected toes, Sam Delaney. Not only have you now made me a target for my loveable but nosey sister, you’ve also put me off wearing high heels for life.”

“I hope not,” he grinned. “Maybe if you downgraded the stilts you seem to prefer, your feet would thank you for it.”

“On that friendly note, I think you should leave now before I find another use for these sandals.”

With a bag of fries in his hand, he headed toward the door. “I know when I’m not wanted. You can thank me for my thoughtfulness when you report back to me on those three names you’re looking at.”

Nicky wiggled her toes in her new sandals. “I don’t need to wait that long. Thanks, Sam. I appreciate you thinking about my feet.”
 

“That’s not all I think about,” he mumbled, “but that can wait for another day.” Clearing his throat, he asked, “When will you be ready with the report?”

Nicky sighed. “I should have something concrete for you by Tuesday or Wednesday of next week.”
 

“Fine.”
 

With a sinking heart she watched his back disappear out the door. Patrick O’Flynn was more than a passing interest in her investigation. If she was right, and she was pretty sure she was, Sam’s friend was the main reason for all the missing money. Eighty-five thousand dollars had gone missing in the last five months. She wouldn’t be surprised if the accountant eventually uncovered other money disappearing out of the company before then.

Sam had a small, but important group of friends. He’d take the theft hard, but not as hard as Patrick’s wife. This investigation had turned into more than an issue of money.
 

People’s lives were about to be shattered by the cold, hard, truth of Patrick O’Flynn’s double life.

“Are you sure?” Sam asked.

Nicky stared at the report sitting on his desk. “Yes, I’m sure.”

He flicked through the bound pages. “What proof do you have?”

“There are copies of his bank account transactions for the last six months in the back of the file, as well as the accounts he opened under his children’s names. I’ve highlighted the deposits that match invoices processed through the accounts team for work supposedly done on The Oasis development.”

Setting the report down on his desk, Sam rubbed his hands over his face. “I can’t believe he stole from the company. I’ve known Patrick for over eleven years. He’s my friend.” His brown eyes stared bleakly at Nicky. “He earns damn good money. Why would he risk his career doing something so stupid?”