The Hostage Bride (3 page)

“Tell me what happened at the office today,” her mother requested between bites.

Tamara hesitated, then decided it might be wise to lay some groundwork for what might become an eventuality. “Mr. Stein stopped by my office this afternoon to tell me that the
company is going to merge with Taylor Business Machines.”

Her mother looked at her in surprise. “When?”

“The end of the month, I guess.” She carefully schooled her expression to conceal her inner trepidations. “It came as a complete surprise to me, too. I knew Mr. Stein wasn’t happy about running the company,” she admitted as she spooned peas into her mother’s mouth. “To be truthful, he isn’t very good at it. He never even hinted that he was considering a move of this kind.”

“Will it mean a promotion for you?”

“It could.” A faint smile touched Tamara’s mouth. Leave it to her mother to find something good. “Or it might mean I won’t have a job. The new management might sweep me out when they take over.”

“Do you think so?” her mother frowned.

“It’s possible. But I’m not worried about it if they do,” Tamara insisted. “There is always a column in the classifieds filled with openings for experienced bookkeepers. I won’t have any trouble finding work.”

“That’s true.” There was a pause before she asked, “When will you know?”

“Not for a while. Probably not until next month.”

Tamara didn’t mention her employer’s assurance that she would be guaranteed a job. There were certain things he didn’t know. Just as there were certain things she didn’t tell her mother, because she didn’t want her worrying—especially about their finances. Her mother still
believed there was a little left from the inheritance she had received. She didn’t know Tamara had already gone through almost twice that sum, paying the various bills they owed.

Her salary and the money she earned typing nights didn’t cover the mortgage payment on the house, the utilities, Sadie’s wages, and the groceries. But Tamara pretended to her mother that it did, with a little left over to pay toward the medical expenses. It eased her mother’s mind, and Tamara didn’t want her worrying about something she couldn’t help.

“I feel very guilty sometimes,” her mother declared with an unexpected sadness in her usually cheerful expression. This statement took Tamara by surprise and the forkful of meat was stopped halfway to her mother’s mouth. “You are missing so many of the joys of being young because of me.”

“Mother, please.” There was a lump in her throat that she had to swallow before she could continue. “I’m not complaining. I have the rest of my life to date, go to parties and dances.” She left unspoken that she might have only a few months more with her mother, the disease was progressing so rapidly.

“I have been very blessed to have you.”

Tears sprang into Tamara’s eyes and she turned her head to hide them from her mother. “I certainly hope so,” she declared, attempting to joke her way out of the very emotional moment.

“You are conceited.” Her mother laughed as Tamara’s remark achieved the desired result.

“It’s going to be a beautiful day.” Adam Slater sighed wistfully as he gazed out the window of the car. “I wish I were spending it on the golf course.”

Bick Rutledge let his gaze slide from the flow of traffic to lazily rest on the accountant’s profile. “Instead of going over Signet’s books with Stein’s spinsterish paragon he keeps raving about.”

“You sound skeptical of her ability. All the balance sheets and statements I saw looked like they were drawn up by a highly skilled professional,” Adam remarked with a questioning look.

“Maybe. I’m just doubtful if Stein knows a good employee from a bad one. The company has been stagnant the last year and a half. It hasn’t shown any growth since his brother died. With those patents he owns, the business should
have exploded. I don’t think Stein knows what he has.”

“Had,” Adam corrected. “You own them now. And you didn’t tell him what they were worth.”

“Stein got what he wanted. So did we.” Bick shrugged without a trace of guilt at the bargain he’d obtained.

“Are you really going to keep his business going?” Adam studied the man behind the wheel.

“For the time being. It will serve to handle our overflow while we weed out their employees.”

“You promised Stein you’d keep everyone for a year,” Adam reminded him.

“I’ll keep the good ones for a year, or longer. The bad ones will probably find the working conditions not to their liking and voluntarily quit.” His amused glance was knowingly shrewd.

“How long have we known each other? Seventeen years, is it?” Adam answered his own question. “We roomed together at college, so I guess that must be right. Who would ever have thought back then that I’d be working for you someday?”

“I wouldn’t have hired you if you weren’t the best,” Bick stated, and slowed the car to turn into the parking lot of the Signet Company.

“I know that,” Adam declared with a half-laugh. “I don’t mind working for you, but I’d sure as hell hate to do business with you.”

“You make me sound like a villain.” His mouth quirked.

“Not that. I just could never be as detached as you are in dealing with people … on a business level, that is,” he qualified the statement.

Bick knew what Adam meant. Usually he kept the people he employed at a distance, rarely socializing with them. Because of their previous friendship, he permitted his guard to relax sometimes in Adam’s company, but never completely. Bick had learned quickly that employees tended to take advantage of friendships. So while he maintained a loose comradeship, part of him stayed aloof and wary.

He’d been born at the top, inheriting the majority block of company shares from his mother. Even if he hadn’t, Bick knew he would have sought the position. The challenge of it was ample compensation for the loneliness of command that accompanied it. Bick didn’t consider himself to be an autocratic ruler. He was equally capable of joking and drinking with his men as he was giving them orders.

“Where are we going to start our tour?” Adam asked when Bick parked the car in a stall reserved for visitors.

“Might as well look over the sales department first. Hank’s already seen it, but I’ll be expected to put in my appearance there,” he murmured dryly.

As he stepped out of the car, a transit bus pulled away from the corner. His attention was automatically transferred to the slim blond, who had obviously just gotten off the bus and was walking toward the main entrance. By the time
Adam joined him, the girl was ahead of them. A whipping wind was plastering her blue cotton skirt to the back of her legs, suggestively outlining the slender curve of her hips. Bick would have been less than honest if he didn’t admit to liking what he saw.

Her steps slowed as she appeared to be looking through her purse for something. They had nearly overtaken her when she dropped a set of keys onto the sidewalk and stooped to pick them up. As she straightened, the silk shawl that had been draped around her shoulders slipped to the ground. Bick reached for it before the summer wind could sweep it away.

When she turned around, he felt his senses stir. She was a stunning creature—such blue eyes—and he’d bet his wallet the pale blond of her hair wasn’t the result of a bleach bottle. Her lips started to part in a smile of gratitude, then stopped. As she took the shawl from his outstretched hand, Bick let it trail through his fingers when he released it. Somehow he knew her skin would be just as smooth beneath those clothes.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He liked her voice—a low, silken sound. Bick knew he was staring, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He inclined his head in brief acknowledgment of her words, but she was already turning to open the door. He was too late to open it for her, and followed her through before it closed.

“Excuse me, miss.” She stopped when he
spoke and turned hesitantly to face him. Out of the corner of his eyes, Bick saw the glass-walled partition and the assortment of office machines beyond it, but he deliberately ignored it. “Which way is the sales department?”

“Right through that door.” She pointed to the glassed area, a set of keys jingling in her hand when she did.

His gaze ran admiringly over her, noting the thrusting firmness of her breasts and the nipped-in slimness of her waist. “What is your name?” When his gaze returned to her face, it encountered an impenetrable wall of reserve. Her studied indifference immediately intrigued him even more.

“I’m sure you’ll find someone to help you if you step through those doors.” She coolly ignored his question and pivoted on a slim heel to walk away.

Adam exhaled a long breath beside him. “I never thought I’d live to see the day you would get the brush-off, Bick,” he murmured, then added to himself, “I wonder if I should tell Peggy that I finally met her.”

“Met who?” Bick dragged his gaze away from the retreating figure to let it narrow on the head of his accounting staff.

“Oh … uh.” Adam faltered as he realized he’d spoken aloud. “Peggy made me take a quiz that was in this magazine,” he explained, referring to his wife. “One of the questions asked if I had ever been unfaithful. I assured her that I hadn’t, because I’d never met a woman who had ever tempted me. But that one”—he glanced
down the hallway where the blond had disappeared—“could lead me astray.”

“Forget it,” Bick stated.

“Why?” Adam smiled at him curiously.

“Because if she goes out with anybody, it’s going to be me.” But as he said the half-joking sentence, Bick knew that he meant it.

“I thought you … uh … made it a rule never to—”

“You just saw the exception,” Bick interrupted, his voice smooth and calmly determined.

Adam stared at him, then shook his head in a vaguely incredulous fashion. “You aren’t joking.”

“I rarely joke about something I want.” A lazy, crooked smile slanted his mouth.

“And you always get what you want, don’t you?” Adam seemed to marvel at the realization.

“My grandfather gave me a piece of advice a long time ago. He said, ‘If you want to cross the street, cross it. If someone stands in your way, walk around them. If you can’t walk around them and you can’t persuade them to move out of your way, walk over them. But if you’ve made up your mind to cross the street, don’t let anyone stop you.’ In practice, it isn’t as ruthless as it sounds,” Bick concluded in a wry tone because of Adam’s apprehensive expression. “Come on.” He walked to the glass sales door. “Let’s get all these business formalities over with.”

He pushed aside the distraction of that blond
vision dancing in his head. Business first, then pleasure. Bick couldn’t think of a better reward to be waiting at the end of a day.

In her office Tamara discovered she was clutching the silk folds of the multicolored shawl. She smoothed out the creases in the delicate fabric caused by her tight grip and draped it around her shoulders. This time she tied the ends in a double knot so it wouldn’t slip free again. A spicy musk fragrance of a man’s cologne had left its scent on the shawl, a provocative stimulant to nerves still tingling from the encounter.

Closing her eyes, Tamara shook her head to clear it of the frankness that had been in the male gaze of those green eyes. It didn’t do any good. She could still see that tall, broad-shouldered man in the sand-colored suit who had returned her shawl—the one whose heady scent clung to it now.

His features had been toughly masculine—browned by the sun and creased with experience. The morning sunlight had glinted on his dark brown hair to give it a coppery sheen. The strong breeze had whipped a few strands forward onto his forehead to give him an arrogantly rakish look. His mouth had been thin and firmly cut and his hand had been large with bluntly trimmed nails.

Everything about the man, from the expensive suit tailored to fit his muscled frame to the casually tamed style of his haircut, reminded
Tamara of the chiseled and polished facets of a diamond. Although he showed the unmistakable stamp of refinement, it didn’t change the inherent hardness of the stone.

All male, his interest in her had been obvious, and her ego had reveled in it. When he’d asked her name, the look he gave her had practically turned her bones to water. She had very nearly told him. But what was the use? If he had contacted her and asked her out, she couldn’t have gone with him, for a half dozen reasons. So there hadn’t been any point in encouraging him. Tamara sighed heavily.

She walked to her desk and put her purse in the bottom drawer. The swivel chair creaked as she sat down in it. Resting her elbows on the desktop, she linked her fingers together and pressed them against her mouth. No solution had presented itself to clear up the discrepancy in the company’s books and the time for an audit was fast approaching. Tamara had considered altering the entry, but if that was uncovered, she would be in deeper trouble. Her empty stomach was twisted into knots of tension and had been for days, refusing food and eating her up with anxiety.

Three times she had approached Harold Stein to explain what she had done, but he had abandoned any pretense of interest in the operation of the company, from sales to accounting. He was experimenting with a new duplicating process, and he kept interrupting her to explain the significance of it if his new development
worked. Unable to obtain his undivided attention, Tamara had given up without accomplishing her purpose.

What had the man wanted? The question startled her into sitting up straight. Why had her thoughts returned to that stranger? He’d asked for the sales department. Maybe he’d ordered some equipment or was planning to order some. What did it matter? Tamara took a firm grip on herself. Even if she saw him again or found out his name, what good would it do? She wasn’t free. She had too many personal problems and responsibilities.

Pushing him out of her mind for the last time, Tamara reached for yesterday’s account sheets in her incoming file basket. There was a great deal of work that demanded her attention. It was time she stopped daydreaming and started doing her job.

An hour later, she discovered a multiplication error on an invoice that had been mailed. Leaving her office, Tamara entered the large room that housed her office staff and walked to the desk of the billing clerk, Susan Dunn. The room was abuzz with whispered conversations being exchanged back and forth between desks, an undercurrent of excitement in the air.