Double Dare

Suzanne gave a concerned frown and squeezed her arm affectionately. "Good luck."

Dropping her paperwork on her desk as she passed by her office, she went straight on to his door.

"Abigail, thank you for stopping by so promptly." Tom stood up from behind his desk and gestured at the low easy chairs that were set to one side of the large room, around a coffee table.

She glanced at the view as she took her place. Tom's office occupied the cornerstone of the floor, a suitable spot for their leader. With floor to ceiling glass and dual aspect, the view extended over the city to the left and to the right-hand side toward the river and beyond. On a clear day, it was said that he could see practically all of London, right out along the Thames.

She sank down into the soft Italian leather easy chair, smoothing her dress down over her thighs as she did so. She was aware of Tom watching as she took her place. She hoped he wasn't going to try to get cozy on her again. Adopting what she considered a tidy pose—knees together, ankles crossed just above the straps on her sandals—she rested her hands loosely over the arms of the chair.

"I thought we should have a chat about your work." He walked over to the drinks cabinet. "Would you like a drink?"

"No, thank you."

He poured himself out a large measure of whisky and strolled over to sit next to her.

It struck her as odd that he was drinking spirits at this time of day, but part of her thought she could probably do with a swig herself, to steady her nerves.

His immaculate shirt and tie gleamed in the bright sunshine. He was so well groomed that he looked rather artificial.

"I've been watching you closely over the past few days." He wasn't actually looking at her as he spoke. He was focused on the heavy crystal tumbler that he turned in small circles, making invisible patterns on the marble-topped coffee table in front of him.

Watching me? She felt a chill come over her, above and beyond that of the air-conditioning. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. "What do you mean?" She tried to keep any defensiveness out of her voice, but in her current state of mind it was difficult.

"I'm taking a special interest in you. You must know that by now." He polished his comment with a smile. "I saw that you were attending the auction house when I was checking your targets on the network. I had to come down, just to see how you did."

A mixture of anger and sheer relief hit her. It wasn't Zac she had to be worried about, it was her bloody boss! She stared at Tom, weighing him up. Keep calm. She prided herself on remaining professional, no matter what the circumstances. "You were there?" How could he observe her without announcing his intention to do so?

Tom nodded and gave a quiet chuckle, still avoiding eye contact. "It was a great performance." He shifted in his seat.

Her fingers tightened over the arms of the chair. He'd been watching her. He'd been the one making her feel uneasy. Not Zac. Her heart beat out a triumphant tattoo.

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to be there?"

"No need."

In that case, why are you telling me now, you creep?

"The important thing is that I am around and available. You've had a lot

of extra responsibility and I wouldn't dream of letting you cope alone." He glanced at her, clearly trying to gauge her reaction. "Last week, I told you I was there for you, but so far you haven't called on me." The last comment had a chastising tone to it.

"Things have been proceeding well."

He ignored that. "You do know I care about you, Abby, don't you?"

She fought against gritted teeth to speak. "I'm sure you care about all your staff," she responded coolly, her skin crawling. She tapped her fingers on the chair arm. The leather, mercifully silent, did not betray her annoyance. Her mind raced with the dismal immediate options that faced her. She could hardly confront him and tell him his so called 'care' and interest was akin to being stalked, but at the same time, she wanted this over with. He was clearly abusing his authority to mask another purpose.

He looked at her over the edge of his glass as he took another swig.

She waited to see what he would say next.

His smile held unwelcome fondness. "I think we both know how well you've been doing, but I felt we needed to discuss it in more casual circumstances." His pause was deliberate. "I was disappointed you didn't take me up on my lunch invitation after your good work on the stock exchange."

She felt herself flushing with annoyance and bit the inside of her lip in an effort to keep calm. She gave what she hoped was a cool nod in acknowledgement of his remark.

"In fact, I have been wondering if you wouldn't have been a better choice for the Pascal account. I feel quite sure you would have had it well in hand by now." He cradled his drink.

She gripped the arms of the chair. How the hell was she going to deal with the situation? It was difficult, the options were few and the pitfalls many.