After Hours

“Not at all. I was just telling him how much I enjoy his visits.” Angie had met Mickey’s mother, Kim, several times and liked the woman, though they’d spent little time together.

“You’re very patient with him. He can be a handful.” Kim motioned for Mickey to join her outside. “C’mon, Mick. Your grandpa wants to spend more time with you while he’s visiting.”

She paused, then tilted her head at Angie. “Angie, would you like to join us for dinner tomorrow night? We’d love to have you.”

“Thank you, but I can’t tomorrow night. There’s a retirement party for one of the vice presidents at my office and I’m obligated to be there “

“Another time, then?”

“Yes, I’d love to,” Angie accepted rather shyly. “Thank you for asking.”

“I’ll give you a call. Let’s go, Mickey.”

Mickey hesitated, then threw his arms around Angie’s waist for an impulsive hug. “Thanks for the cookies, Angie. See you later, okay?”

Knowing the hug was prompted by his concern about her being lonely, Angie returned it warmly. She closed the door slowly behind the child and his mother, thinking of how long it had been since she’d been hugged. How very good it felt. She couldn’t help wondering wistfully if she’d ever have her own child to hug. The prospect didn’t look too promising at the moment.

She told herself it was only coincidence that her very next thought was of Rhys. She’d be seeing him again the next afternoon. She told herself that she was ready, that she had everything under control now. And then she tried to prepare dinner with her fingers crossed for luck.

6

RHYS STOOD in Angie’s open doorway for several moments before she looked up from her work to spot him there. He took advantage of the opportunity to drink in the sight of her. He hadn’t forgotten how beautiful she was, but he’d never grow tired of looking at her.

She’d worn her hair down that day, soft and loose to her shoulders, something she rarely did. Even her dress was more casual than usual, a splash of cheerful pastels that brought out the soft pink in her complexion. He supposed she’d come prepared to attend Atwood’s retirement party after work. Probably assumed—correctly—that they’d be so busy catching up from his week away that they’d work right up until the party began, giving her no chance to go home and change.

He’d missed her during the long week apart. He hadn’t realized how much a part of his life she’d become in the past six months or so.

A securely sealed brown envelope had been lying on his desk when he’d returned, marked “personal.” There’d been no return address, but he’d known who it was from when he’d ripped into it. He’d paused momentarily before reading the cleanly typed report inside, but he hadn’t changed his mind. He needed to find out about Angie’s past, needed to know what demons were chasing her. Needed to know why she felt the need to stay so alone and whether he had the slightest chance of changing her mind.

So now he knew. His eyes on her gleaming hair as she bent so diligently over her work, Rhys wavered between taking her in his arms and turning her over his knee. Did she really think it mattered that her father was in prison? He knew she’d been completely exonerated of her father’s shady dealings, that she’d been guilty of nothing more than filial ignorance. Did she honestly believe that he or anyone else would hold something like that against her after knowing what a fine person she was in her own right?

He wished he could tell her those things, but he knew he couldn’t. Not yet. Now w

asn’t the time to let her know what he’d done. Not until he had her full trust. And he would have it eventually. One way or another.

“Hello, Angelique.”

Her head flew up with a jerk. He watched the color stain her fair cheeks, noted the gleam of memory and awareness in her unusual violet eyes. “Rhys,” she said before she could remember to address him more formally.

He was fiercely glad that she’d called him by name. She noticed what she’d said a moment after he did, but only a flick of her lashes betrayed her discomfiture. “How was your flight?” she asked evenly.

“Fine. You look beautiful today. I like your hair down.”

She obviously hadn’t expected that. He watched her moisten her lips, feeling his chest tighten at the unconscious eroticism of the gesture. Those lips had haunted him for over a week now. He could almost taste them in his sleep as he replayed their kiss again and again in his dreams.

“Um—thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Do you have time now to get me caught up on everything that went on here during the week?”

“Yes, sir. Just let me get my notes.”

“I’ll wait for you in my office.”

“I’ll be right there.”

He smiled at her. “Take your time. We have all afternoon.”

He almost laughed at the wariness in her eyes as she nodded slowly in response. She didn’t quite know what to make of his renewed friendliness. He rather liked seeing her off guard this way.