memento.’
‘Heaven only knows what happened to it. It was supposed to have come down yesterday.’
‘Don’t tell me we’ve missed seeing Eden Cassidy?’ Roxie asked as she went to sit down.
Keira forestalled her by taking her arm and turning her around. ‘No time to sit, Roxie. Let’s go. They’re waiting for us in the conference room.’
‘Who are?’
‘The rest of the crew. And Eden Cassidy.’
‘Eden Cassidy. Here? In the flesh? Why didn’t you say so? My prayers are answered.’ Roxie gazed momentarily skywards. ‘So what are we lingering here for, Keira? Come on, let’s start the stampede.’
Suppressing a giggle that threatened to burst from her at Roxie’s humour, Keira felt some of her tension abate just a little. The shadow of a smile still lit her face as she opened the door but it faded quickly as she led the way into the large room where the rest of the staff and Eden Cassidy awaited them.
She refused to allow herself to look directly at Eden for fear the shadows of those heady moments in the elevator would be clearly visible on her face for all to see. Yet still she couldn’t prevent the telltale colour washing her warm cheeks.
‘Ah, Keira.’ Denver stood up from his position at Eden’s right hand. ‘Some wires seem to have managed to get crossed somewhere along the track.’
‘Yes,’ Keira replied without intonation as she slid quickly into her seat, ‘apparently they have.’
‘No matter. We’re all here now.’ Eden waved recriminations aside. ‘Let’s get down to business. Are we on track for publication date?’
For the next two hours Eden questioned them relentlessly about every facet of the progress of the magazine and, although they could have continued, promptly at five o’clock Eden drew the meeting to a close. There were thankful sighs as chairs scraped and paper rustled as they all began to file out of the conference room.
‘Keira. One minute.’ Eden’s deep voice stopped Keira as she made to follow the rest of the staff.
As Keira’s step faltered, Denver and Roxie turned back, their facial expressions registering surprise. Roxie recovered enough to give Keira an audacious wink before she continued on her way, while Denver’s thin lips tightened in a far less indulgent manner. Keira’s flush was the resulting sum total of both of their so obvious sentiments.
‘Yes, Mr Cassidy?’ Keira projected her voice to reach the ears of the retreating Denver Clarkson. At least she knew she could explain the real situation to Roxie later.
Eden folded his arms casually as he leant back against the conference table.
He didn’t immediately break the silence, making her feel uneasily aware of their isolation, and that same revealing pulse began to beat at the base of her throat.
‘Were you wanting some more information?’ Keira asked quickly, and he grimaced.
‘Yes. In a manner of speaking, I was.’ His dark gaze held hers. ‘Have dinner with me, hmm?’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘DINNER?’ Keira repeated, completely taken aback. Whatever she had expected him to ask her, it certainly wasn’t that.
‘Dinner. Tonight.’ His deep voice played over her, rousing her senses and lowering her defences.
Its huskiness stirred her fertile imagination and she could almost smell the faint scent of roses, see a secluded table for two, an unobtrusive waiter pouring wine. And catch the dark, glimmering sparkle of Eden’s eyes in the flickering candlelight.
Why not? persuaded one part of her, the part that housed her traitorous longings. Why not grasp the chance and run with it? Experience all that he offered for as long as it lasted? At least then she’d have the memories to savour when it was over.
When it was over, reiterated her level-headed conscious mind.
A brief affair. Romantic. Exciting. And physically satisfying. She was so very sure it would be that.
So why not? Her incited nerve-endings increased threefold the intoxicating temptation to accept his invitation. Yes, it would be a mutually satisfying affair. But an affair for all that. With her boss.
‘Well, Keira?’ he prompted, and Keira drew her wildly conflicting thoughts into some semblance of order, her grey eyes meeting his.
‘I’m sorry. I can’t.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’
Keira shrugged. ‘Both.’
‘Because of the gossip?’
‘No. Yes.’ She fidgeted with her papers, betraying her agitation.
‘No one need know,’ he said easily, and Keira gave a soft, sceptical laugh.
‘Someone would find out, believe me. They always do.’
‘And you’re going to allow what other people think to govern your life, what you do and don’t do?’ he asked with an ominous quietness.
‘That makes me sound spineless, and I’m not.’ Keira lifted her chin boldly.
It was his turn to give an incredulous laugh. ‘Spineless would not be a term that would come to my mind to describe you, Keira. But perhaps you
‘I’m afraid I can’t help that. I do care about how others see me. And I dislike immensely the idea that the general consensus might be that I schemed to get this job.’
Eden made a negating movement with his hand. ‘We’ve been through this before. And I can assure you that anyone who knows me would realise I don’t make a habit of allowing my-’ he paused ‘-personal life to influence a decision that might reflect badly on my business. I’m no philanthropist, nor am I a philanderer. You wouldn’t have this position if I didn’t think you were more than qualified to do it. So shall we acknowledge that point as being on the record?’
‘Maybe I don’t want to join the queue…’
A frown of irritation settled on Eden’s brow.
‘Or perhaps I just don’t want to go with you,’ Keira continued quickly, her gaze holding his momentarily before her eyes fell.
‘Don’t you?’ he asked, the softly spoken words reaching into her soul, twisting, negating her small spurt of bravado.
His eyebrows rose mockingly at her hesitation and she felt her anger flare. ‘All right. If things were different, well, I’d consider accepting. But as it is I’m not going to,’ she finished with conviction.
‘What are you really afraid of, Keira?’ he asked imperiously. ‘Public opinion? Or yourself?’
Her grey eyes rose to meet his again. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about the way we strike sparks off each other. The way the air between us almost ignites with the electrical charge we generate.’ He gave a quick derisive smile. ‘For some reason it seems to alarm you. I repeat, what are you afraid of?’
‘If you mean am I afraid of you, then all I can say is you’re flattering yourself.’
‘Look, Keira,’ he continued, letting her jibe go over his head, ‘I don’t know what sort of relationships you’ve had in the past but-’
‘My past relationships have nothing whatsoever to do with you,’ Keira declared indignantly.
‘Don’t they? Then that sets a precedent. Now you don’t get to throw mine and the critical way you mistakenly see them into the conversation either. So we forget about queues.’
His composed, supercilious smile fanned her anger. ‘I think you’re suffering from the too-rich syndrome,’ she threw at him furiously. ‘Too much, too many, too often. Unfortunately, what it all boils down to is that the decision is mine to make. Negative or positive. And I choose not to. If your ego can’t accept that decision then that’s tough and I’m sorry.’
He unfolded his arms, straightening from where he’d been casually leaning against the conference table, and
