Beauty and Her Boss

“If you don’t believe me, go to our website. It’s on the home page, front and center. I’ll wait,” he said smugly.

Gaby pressed the end button. It didn’t matter what they had posted on their website, she wasn’t giving a comment. But she wanted to see what had prompted the reporter to call her.

Her fingers moved rapidly over the touch screen and then the website popped up. She gasped. It was true. They did have a photo of her and Deacon.

Her face felt as though it was on fire. That man had made the situation sound so scandalous. Deacon had only been helping her after she’d been an utter klutz.

She studied the photo more intently. She didn’t recall Deacon looking at her like—like he desired her. Surely they’d done something to alter the photo. She’d heard they do that all the time to make people thinner or prettier.

Thankfully there hadn’t been any cameras in Deacon’s house. Her face burned with embarrassment when she recalled how she’d flirted with him and then that kiss—oh, that heated kiss had been so good.

And yet, the kiss could not be repeated.

No matter how good it was, it was a one-time thing—a spur-of-the-moment thing. It didn’t matter if his touch had been so gentle and so arousing. There could be no future for them. It was impossible. She was the niece of the woman who’d died because of Deacon’s actions. There was no way they could get around that.

And she wouldn’t do that to her father. She owed everything to her father—a man who’d always stood by her and who’d encouraged her to follow her love of books and sacrificed so that she could go to college.

She needed to talk to Deacon. She needed to tell him about the photo. She headed out the door. She also needed to make sure he’d heard her when she said that she regretted that soul-stirring, toe-curling kiss—because she did, didn’t she?

Now that she had full access to the house, she knew her way around. She knew where Deacon would be, where he spent most of his time—in his office. It was like a one-room apartment. From what she could tell, it was where he took his meals, where he slept—when he slept—and where he worked.

Her footsteps were silent over the carpeting. When she reached his office, the door was open and the soft glow of the desk lamp spilled out into the hallway. But there were no sounds inside.

She stepped just inside the door. Her gaze scanned the room, with its long shadows. The desk chair was empty and so was the leather couch. Her gaze continued around the room until she spotted him standing in the open French doors that overlooked the ocean.

He didn’t move. He must be lost in thought. She wondered if she was too late. Had he seen the photo?

She softly called out, “Deacon.”

He didn’t turn to her as she’d expected. Instead he said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

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nbsp; “We need to talk.”

“If it’s business, it can wait.”

She crossed her arms and leveled her shoulders. “If you’re going to talk to me, you could at least have the decency to face me.”

He turned to her. His face was devoid of expression. She didn’t know how he managed that when she was certain he was anything but calm—not after that spine-tingling kiss. She supposed that was what made him such an accomplished actor. She, on the other hand, wore her emotions on her sleeve. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t know how to hide her emotions.

“I’m facing you,” he said matter-of-factly. “Now, why are you here?”

“I just had a phone call from a reporter. There’s a photo of us on the internet.”

A muscle in Deacon’s jaw twitched. “Let me see it.”

Recalling how the photo made it seem like there was something going on between them, she didn’t think Deacon would take it well. “I don’t think you want to see it.”

He approached her and held out his hand.

She pulled up the picture on her phone. The headline read: Evading the Police in the Arms of a New Lover. Maybe bringing it to Deacon’s attention wasn’t a good idea after all.

She handed him the phone and waited for his reaction.

For a moment, he didn’t speak. He scrolled through the article. With a scowl on his handsome face, he returned her phone.

“I don’t even know how they got the photo,” she said.