Little White Lies (2 page)

Miranda stuffed her things in the paper bag and hurried back to her desk.  Since the party was in the Convention Hall on the ground floor of Devlin Shipping, she could leave everything here and come back for it later.  At least she wouldn’t have to worry about where to put a key. As Holt’s personal assistant, she had the security code and could gain access to the Executive Suites anytime.  Drawing in a deep breath, Miranda left the office and headed for the elevators. Less than five minutes later, she was standing in the kitchen talking to the caterers.

                        ***

Holt stood in a corner close to the stage trying to make himself as invisible as possible.  He gulped down the drink in his hand and snatched another from the tray of a passing caterer and downed half of it.  Put him in a room full of high powered executives, politicians, or the rich and famous, and Holt was in his element.  He understood power and arrogance and was comfortable with it, but here among his own employees he felt like an outcast.  They had nothing in common, save Devlin Shipping, and he had no idea how to relate to them.  Not that any of them made much of an attempt to carry on a conversation anyway, and that was just fine with him. 

He scanned the room, impatient for Miranda to arrive.  At least he was at ease with her and she’d run interference if any of the employees approached.  He wondered what they would think if they knew how nervous it made him to be here.  They’d never believe it, especially knowing what a hard-ass he was at the office, and that was the only thing that made being here tolerable. 

He craned his neck, swearing under his breath.  Where the hell was Miranda?  She promised he would be in and out in no time and he’d already been here for a good twenty minutes.  The room was filling up fast and the noise level was elevating by the minute as employees and their spouses, along with some of Devlin’s clients and vendors, got caught up in the celebration.

He was just thinking about the nice quiet evening he had planned for himself when he spotted the woman.  Actually, her legs caught his attention first and his eyes worked their way up from there.  Shapely and sexy, they led to a delightfully rounded bottom, tapered into a slender waist, and ended with a glorious mane of dark hair.  He knew she wasn’t an employee or client, so it was possible she worked for one of his vendors. Which meant she wasn’t off limits. 

One elegant hand snaked down her dress and tugged at the hem, and for one fleeting moment, Holt glimpsed bare skin.  Heat pooled deep in his belly, and suddenly spending the night alone didn’t seem like such a great idea.

Setting his drink on the closest table, Holt confidently made his way across the room.  Now
this
was something he was familiar with; seducing a woman into his bed.  If she was married, he would do nothing more than introduce himself. If she was single, he intended to leave the party with her on his arm.  He wasn’t more than three feet away from her when she moved off and wormed her way through the crowd. 

Keeping his eyes glued to her backside, Holt had much less difficulty maneuvering around the guests; partly because they recognized him as the boss, but also because at six feet four, most people made it a point to move out of his way first.  A few minutes into the hot pursuit, his intended prey stopped so abruptly he nearly ran her over.

He flashed a rakish grin, one that had won him more than his fair share of female companionship in the past.  “I’m sorry, I just…”  Holt blinked, unable to believe his eyes.  “Miranda?”

She laughed at the astonished tone of his voice.  “I guess I’ve outdone myself. I’ve been getting that reaction since the moment I walked in.  Are you ready to make the toast?”

She was beautiful.  No, more than beautiful; she was simply stunning. Holt was finding it very difficult to equate this stimulating woman with his introverted assistant.  He was also finding it difficult to breathe because the air had quite literally been sucked out of his lungs when she turned around.  His eyes raked over her slender form, over the flat belly and firm, round breasts to the column of her lovely neck, and finally halted at her shiny lips.  Lips that looked invitingly soft and kissable.  Only her eyes seemed familiar, and right now they were staring at him curiously.

“You look…incredible,” he finally managed to squeeze out.

Miranda blushed with pleasure.  “You look quite dashing yourself.”  When he didn’t say anything more, she shifted uncomfortably.  “Holt, about that toast?”

“Yes, of course.” 

He stepped aside so she could go first, absently placing his hand on the small of her back then quickly snatched it away.  A jolt of electricity couldn’t have shocked him more than the feel of her soft, warm skin beneath his fingertips. Holt clenched his jaws against the rush of desire that surged through him.  Good God, what was wrong with him?  This was Miranda Carrington, his meek little assistant, the woman most people would overlook in a crowd. The same woman who stirred his compassion less than a week ago because he’d been thinking she had absolutely no sex appeal. 

Holt stole a quick look at her.  She stirred a whole lot more than compassion right now, that was for sure, but he couldn’t afford to make a move on her no matter how much he wanted to.  For one thing, he would never find anyone who was so in tuned with him in the office; for another, he just couldn’t bear the thought of breaking her heart.  And it
would
break her heart, he knew that with undying certainty.  Miranda was kind and gentle. She would never be able to give her body without getting emotionally involved.  Looking at her now, Holt wasn’t entirely sure he could keep from feeling something for her either, and that scared the hell out of him.

Why did she have to wear that dress?  And why did she have to let her hair down like that so she looked all soft and feminine?  His fingers itched to touch it, to sift through the silkiness and watch it fall back into place.  He wanted to see it splayed across his pillow when he made love to her and…whoa, whoa, what was he doing?  He had to put an end to that line of thinking before he did something he regretted. 

She had no right to do this to him, not when everything was so perfect between them.  What kind of game was she playing?  Irrational anger burned deep inside of him.  It wasn’t fair of her to make him want her so bad when she knew perfectly well he could never act on it.   

Miranda stopped in front of the stage and motioned for the band to wind it down before turning to Holt.  The smile on her face faded.  Holt looked…angry, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what had happened in the short walk to the stage.  But when his hostile glare swept over her dress and back up again, she understood.  He was only being polite when he said she looked incredible.  What he really thought was evident by the look of disgust on his face.  Miranda crossed her arms over her chest in an effort to cover herself.  She had no way of knowing the self-conscious gesture only pushed her breasts up and made them even more tempting than before.

Holt gritted his teeth.  Damn, there was only so much a man could take!  “Let’s get this over with,” he snapped.

Miranda blinked back the sting of tears.  “Sure, I’ll…uh, be right back.”  She turned away from him and hurried up the stairs to the stage.  When the band stopped playing, she forced herself to smile as she asked for everyone’s attention.  “Good evening everyone, I’m Miranda Carrington, Personal Assistant to your host, Holt Devlin.” 

She waited for the applause to die then blushed profusely when a few men let out cat calls.  Her mortification doubled when she chanced a quick glance at Holt and saw his broad shoulders visibly stiffen.  She’d made a fool of herself wearing Bri’s dress and even worse, she’d embarrassed Holt.  Thank God, they had a week off for the holidays because there was no way she could walk into the office and pretend everything was perfectly normal.  When it was time to go back, she would dress as she always had and hope by then he will have forgotten all about it. 

“If you would all take a moment to look around, you’ll find fresh glasses and a staff member ready to pour the champagne.  While you’re filling your glasses, I’ll hand the microphone over Holt Devlin, whose generosity has made this celebration possible.” 

Amid cheers and thunderous applause, Holt joined her on the stage. But even his employee’s enthusiastic response didn’t seem to appease his obvious anger with her.  Miranda thrust the microphone blindly into his hand and made a hasty retreat.  What in the world had ever made her believe a man like Holt would want her?  He probably thought she was some closet party girl who played the shy assistant by day and the wild woman at night.  Her cheeks burning with humiliation, Miranda threaded her way across the room and escaped into the hallway.  She all but ran to the elevator, stabbing at the button until at last the bell dinged and the doors slid open.

In the solitude of the office she collapsed in her chair, the pain in her heart so sharp she clutched at her chest.  What had she’d done?  He’d held her in such high esteem before tonight and now…she didn’t even want to know what Holt thought of her. 

Bri could have pulled this off, she realized dismally.  Bri would have looked elegant not cheap, and Holt would have gazed at her sister with desire instead of revulsion.  Miranda covered her face with her hands and sobbed.  She’d made a horrible mess of things and couldn’t even being to figure out how to make it right.

                        ***

Holt made the toast as expected, but his eyes never left Miranda the entire time.  He’d hurt her.  He’d watched her face crumble, watched as she scurried off the stage and wheedled her way through the happy crowd and slipped out the door.  Guilt and remorse twisted at his gut. Somehow, he made it through the brief speech and off the stage before he made an idiot of himself and begged someone to stop her. 

And what would he say to her anyway? 
Gee, Miranda, I’m sorry for being such a heartless bastard but you see it was the only way I could keep from grabbing you up in my arms and carrying you to the nearest bed?
  She understood him on so many levels, but he seriously doubted she would comprehend that he’d done it to protect her, not hurt her.

Holt nodded and smiled his way across the room but didn’t stop to talk to anyone.  He had to find her and make sure she was okay.  He would think of something, make up a story about why he was suddenly so irate and assure Miranda it had nothing to do with her.  It wouldn’t be easy being that close to her again but he was a grown man, for God’s sake. Surely he could maintain the same indifference towards her that he did to other women. 

Granted, he thought she was breathtaking. And yes, he wanted her, but she had no power over him.  She was just a woman, after all, and Holt was an expert at keeping that stone wall around his heart where they were concerned.  Miranda was no different.  He was merely attracted to her sexually and that could easily be remedied in the arms of someone else.

“Right,” he muttered, “as long as I keep my eyes closed and pretend it’s Miranda.”

The hallway was empty, and she wasn’t out in front of the building.  This is ridiculous, he thought when he knocked on the ladies restroom then poked his head in when there was no response.  He called out her name, called himself a name for caring whether she was upset or not, then cursed her again for making him feel like a school boy with a crush.  He considered going up to his office to check there but decided she’d probably just gone home.  He would go home himself, take a shower and change and then give her a call. 

He would make it casual; just a boss checking to make sure his valued employee got home safely.  It might seem a little strange, but at least he wouldn’t worry about her all night.  Then once that issue was resolved, he would spend the rest of the evening trying to figure out how the hell he was going to work with her again without visualizing her lying beneath him in a tangle of sheets.

Miranda lifted her head and looked around in dazed confusion.  Why was she still at the office?  The last thing she remembered was sitting at her desk and laying her head on her arms so she could have a good cry.  She must have fallen asleep.  Alarmed to find it was nearly eleven o’clock, Miranda started to gather her things when something stopped her. 

She’d missed almost the entire party and had spent New Year’s Eve crying over a man who, in all reality, hadn’t given her a second thought once he left.  Pulling out her compact and doing a quick repair job on her make-up, Miranda came to a decision.  This was a new year, a time for new beginnings, and she was going to start by going downstairs and celebrating like everyone else.

In spite of the fact she knew Holt hadn’t planned on sticking around after the toast, she found herself scanning the room for him.  The party was in full swing and it seemed everyone had taken full advantage of the free alcohol.  She wasn’t worried about them getting home safely though because Holt always arranged for a fleet of taxis to be waiting outside at three o’clock when the party ended.  He also reimbursed anyone who had to use a taxi to get back to their cars the next day, which was no small expense, but he was more concerned about the safety of his employees than the money. 

Not surprisingly, Holt wasn’t there but she was still determined to join in the festivities.  Grabbing a glass of champagne, Miranda wandered around the room sipping the bubbly liquid and enjoying the way it tickled her noise.  She wasn’t much of a drinker and after only one glass was beginning to feel the effects. After an internal debate, she decided against a second glass, but when a group of women from Holt’s office attempted to coax her into a refill, Miranda gave in.  Why not? It felt good to be included in their silly chatter, and half way through her third glass, she was laughing and joking as if it was perfectly normal for her to do so.