Okay. That sure wasn’t it.
Anthony’s cell phone rang, but instead of answering it, he focused on Joan across the table. “You okay?”
“I’m perfect.”
His phone rang again, but he continued to hold her gaze.
He was obviously worried about her. She’d seen that look a hundred times. But something had changed. After last night, there was a wall of hesitation between them.
He didn’t seem to know how he should act.
Well, she sure didn’t know how she should act, either.
The phone rang a third time.
“Excuse me,” he finally said with obvious reluctance. He turned and walked through the doorway to the public lounge, flipping open his phone. “Verdun here.”
“Wow,” said Heather, as Luc shut off the television and followed Anthony out of the breakfast room. “Forget calling Mom.”
Joan felt a small ray of hope. “You’ll do it?”
Heather shook her head. “No. I want to talk about Anthony.”
“What about Anthony?”
“What’s going on between the two of you? I’ve got a nose for tension, and
“There’s no tension between us,” Joan lied, even as the tension buzzed its way through her limbs. Last night might have been a bigger mistake than she realized. Where did their relationship go now?
Heather shook her head, moved forward and lowered her voice. “What on earth did I miss?”
“Nothing,” said Joan, staring her sister straight in the eye.
“You lie.”
“I’m calling Mom.”
“Okay, now I
“No, I didn’t sleep with him.” Joan headed for the phone in the corner of the breakfast room, but Heather followed on her heels.
“Because yesterday you two were all chummy and touchy.”
“We weren’t touchy.”
“Oh, yes, you were.”
“Well, a few things have changed since yesterday.” The interview, for one. The break-in, for another. The kiss…Joan silently groaned.
“And now you both act like you’re going to jump out of your skin.”
Joan lifted the receiver and pressed the Talk button. “You’re imagining things.” She punched in her long distance access number.
Heather shook her head and clicked her tongue. “I’m not imagining things. I’m observant and perceptive, remember?”
Joan keyed in her calling card. “You mean delusional.”
“What did he do?”
“Nothing.”
“Then what did you do?”
“Nothing, either.”
“You were still together when Luc and I left your room.”
“So what?” At the prompt, Joan dialed her parents’ number.
“Alone…in that romantic attic suite…”
“And Anthony left about five minutes later.”
“A lot can happen in five minutes.”
A ring tone sounded in Joan’s ear. “Or very little can happen in five minutes.”
“Joanie?”
“Yeah?”
“While we’ve been talking…”
Joan waited.
“You dialed Mom.”
Joan swore under her breath The receiver suddenly felt like a lead weight in her hands.
“Bateman residence,” came Dinora’s voice.
“GET HER BACK out in front of the cameras right now,” boomed Stephen Baker.
“She’s not ready,” Anthony returned, glancing up to make sure Joan and Heather were still occupied in the breakfast room.
“I’m standing now,” said Stephen. “My blood pressure just went up thirty points.”
“The news story alone will sell thousands of copies,” Anthony pointed out. Stephen might think the sky was the limit on publicity, but Anthony had Joan’s feelings to worry about.
She’d been through a lot in the past two days. And he wasn’t forcing her into anything. Not that he could force her, in any case. Not that he had any right to even ask, since he’d shattered a pretty rigid professional boundary last night.
He shuddered to think what might have happened if he’d listened to the soft plea in her voice-if he’d gone back. He knew that if he’d so much as turned around and looked at her, he’d have plunged headlong into that big bed and lost himself in her luscious body. And then things would have been even more awkward this morning.
“I’m taking a nitro pill,” growled Stephen.
“I have a plan,” said Anthony. He had to think. There had to be a way to appease Stephen while respecting Joan’s desire for privacy.
Stephen’s voice rose. “
“We need to let things calm down first.”
“What calm down? We want to heat them up.” If the tone of Stephen’s voice was anything to go by, the man might truly be on the verge of a heart attack.
“She’s been through a lot,” said Anthony.
“She’s not made of spun glass,” Stephen returned.
Anthony paused, gritting his teeth. “Give me some time.”
“I’ll come to Indigo-”
A new voice came on the line. “Anthony?”
“Yes?”
“Bo Reese here.”
Anthony froze. Pellegrin Publishing’s vice-president was in Stephen’s office?
“Anthony?”
“Hello, Mr. Reese.”
The man laughed. “Bo, please.”
“Bo,” said Anthony, struggling to get his bearings.
“How are things going down there?” Bo asked heartily.
“It’s one of my more interesting trips,” Anthony admitted, glancing into the breakfast room again. Still no sign of Joan or Heather.
“Could have knocked us over with a feather when we found out Jules Burrell was a woman.”
“Quite a few people were surprised,” said Anthony, bracing for Bo to start the hard sell.
“We’re looking at bringing out her backlist.”
“Sounds great,” said Anthony, relaxing ever so slightly. Joan’s backlist was an untapped gold mine for all of them.
