Scent of Danger

"Excuse me, Sabrina," she murmured, looking distinctly uncomfortable—a rarity for the thirty-five-year-old dynamo, who could cope with just about anything. "May I see you for a moment?"

"Sure." Sabrina took the cue, gathering up her notes and gesturing for the group to disband. "We were just about to call it a night anyway. These folks need a little R&R." She smiled politely around the room. "The evening's yours. Enjoy it."

She walked into the hall, edging toward the quiet alcove where Melissa had already positioned herself so they could talk in private. "What is it?"

"There's a man here to see you," Melissa reported, folding her arms across her breasts and tapping one manicured nail against her sleeve. "His name's Dylan Newport. Evidently, he's corporate counsel for Ruisseau Fragrances."

"Ruisseau?" Sabrina's brows rose with interest—an interest that was rapidly eclipsed by puzzlement. "Their corporate counsel? That's odd."

"Almost as odd as showing up at my desk at eight o'clock at night, insisting on speaking to you and only you, now if not sooner. He practically forced me to interrupt your workshop. I swear, I think the guy would have broken down the door if I'd said no."

"That sounds pretty extreme." Sabrina frowned. "We've never done business with Ruisseau, so this can't be a legal suit."

"It isn't. I specifically asked him if he had documents for you. He said no. I pressed him as hard as I could. He finally acknowledged that he wasn't here on legal business. That's as much as I could get out of him. He refused to say another word, except that it was you he needed to see. Tonight." Melissa shot her a questioning look. "You're not having an affair with him, are you?"

"Yeah, right," Sabrina retorted, her mind racing to find a logical explanation. "I barely have time for a nap, much less an affair."

"I didn't think so. It's too bad, though. He's hot. Really hot. But he's not your type. This guy's too earthy."

"Thanks for the assessment." Sabrina wasn't bothered by Melissa's bluntness. Her assistant was as plunge-in-and-get-it-done about relationships as she was about work. "But whatever this Dylan Newport wants to see me about, it's not s

ex."

"Like I said, too bad. Anyway, he's definitely a man with a mission. He won't take no for an answer. Rather than test his limits, I decided to interrupt you."

"A wise move. Where is he now?"

"In the office behind the reception area. I showed him in there to keep the disruption to a minimum. He's waiting for you, pacing around like a caged lion."

"Then let's not waste time—his or ours. Let's find out what he wants."

"Have fun." Melissa patted her shoulder. "I'll be at my desk. Just hit the intercom and bellow if you need me."

"I think I can handle this." Sabrina was already on her way, heading down the hall, her thoughts moving faster than her feet. Why would an attorney for Ruisseau Fragrances be here, demanding to see her?

Only one way to find out.

She cut across the marble and glass reception area and made a beeline for the rear office.

Stepping inside, she nearly collided with the tall, dark-haired man who was pacing near the doorway. "Mr. Newport?"

When he turned toward her, Sabrina knew instantly why Melissa had described him the way she had. He was earthy. And hot—if you went for the dark, rough-around-the-edges type. He was certainly both those things, more dangerous-looking than classically handsome, right down to his penetrating gaze and strong, slightly crooked nose that suggested it had been broken at least once. His stance and build were equally tough and Sabrina could sooner picture him in a black T-shirt and jeans than in the herringbone blazer and conservative wool slacks he had on.

No, definitely not her type.

"I'm Sabrina Radcliffe," she informed him, extending her hand. "I understand you're here to see me."

He returned her handshake as if on autopilot, something akin to startled realization flashing in his eyes. Then, he stepped back, scrutinizing her with fierce, unnerving intensity, his stare raking her from head to toe— not in the usual suggestive manner Sabrina had been subject to all too often, but in a clinical way, like a scientist might examine a specimen under a microscope.

"Do I get the part?" she asked pointedly.

Her meaning sank in, and he broke off his physical inspection, his gaze rising to meet hers. He looked a little shell-shocked, although why, she had no idea. "Yeah, you get the part. I hope you'll want it."

Okay, so he was here to hire her. But why the timing? And why an attorney?

This was getting more fascinating by the minute.

"I'm intrigued." Sabrina tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. "Ruisseau's last quarter was incredible. You blew away all your competition. Your company's clearly on a roll. So why seek out CCTL now? Don't get me wrong— we can always find ways to make a company better. But it's a rare CEO who thinks that way when profits are skyrocketing. And it's rarer still to have him or her send corporate counsel to do human resources' job. So what's the scoop?"