He assumed that sooner or later she would cool off, but for the moment her temper was still steaming mad and her determination to hold him at arm’s length was rock solid. It would be fascinating to see how long she could hold out once he launched his full-fledged assault on her senses.
Jason was so busy imagining Dana’s eventual passionate capitulation that he nearly missed the fact that she’d paused in her impatient rush back to work. Standing in the middle of the sidewalk, she leaned down to talk to a tiny, white-haired woman, who was bundled up from head to toe in the wildest combination of colors Jason had ever seen besides one of Dana’s sweaters. Bright blue sweatpants were topped by a garish green jacket. A plaid scarf in bold squares of bumble bee black and yellow had been wound around her neck. A perky red cap sat jauntily on her head. She looked like a delightful gnome.
Jason was even more enchanted when he overheard her ask in a conspiratorial whisper that carried on the winter wind, “Was that him? Was that handsome man who picked you up earlier your new boss? I couldn’t believe that fancy car of his. It must have cost a fortune. You don’t suppose he’d take me for a ride in it one of these days, do you?”
Jason couldn’t quite hear Dana’s murmured response, but it was impossible to miss the sudden stain of color in her cheeks.
The woman patted Dana’s hand. “Dear, mind what I say now. You really mustn’t let him get away. He looks like the kind of man who would know how to treat a woman like you the way she deserves to be treated.”
Dana was almost as red as the woman’s cap by the time Jason reached her side. The old woman squinted up at him through lenses as thick as bottle glass.
“Oh my, yes,” she murmured without the slightest hint of embarrassment at being overheard. Once she’d examined him thoroughly from head to toe with blatant curiosity, she declared, “I was right. You are a handsome one.”
Jason grinned and introduced himself since Dana seemed to be both speechless and mortified.
“And I’m Mrs. Finch,” the little woman replied. “I own a small bookstore in the neighborhood. Stop in sometime and I’ll give you a cup of tea. We can have a nice long chat.” Catching sight of Dana’s glare, she added, “About books.”
“I’d like that,” Jason said.
“Mrs. Finch’s favorites are romances,” Dana muttered, her expression sour.
Jason grinned. “There’s absolutely nothing I’d rather talk about. Maybe you’d like to go for a spin in my car. I’ve always preferred driving with an appreciative passenger.” He glanced pointedly at Dana.
“I have to go to work,” Dana said, turning her back on the two of them.
With a final conspiratorial wink at Mrs. Finch and a promise to visit her shop soon, Jason followed Dana inside. She had her jacket off and was seated at a desk piled high with galleys by the time he got to her. Her brow was furrowed in concentration as she stared at the top sheet of type. He might have believed her absorption, if the page hadn’t been upside down. He righted it.
She scowled up at him. “Jason, go away. I have work to do. I’m not on your payroll yet.”
“Actually, you are. John started billing me for your time as of today.”
“I trust you’ll let him charge you for the lunch you insisted I eat.”
He leaned closer to look over her shoulder, bracing his hands on either side of her. His voice dropped to a seductive purr. “Nope. The lunch and the kiss were definitely not business.”
Jason caught the quick, undeniable flare of heat in her eyes at the mention of that kiss. Dana could protest from now until doomsday that there was nothing between them, but her eyes would always give her away. Instead she shook her head and sighed as if she’d grown tired of fighting with him.
“Less than twenty-four hours ago you acted as if you couldn’t stand the sight of me. What happened to change your mind?”
“I caved in to my baser instincts.”
She gave him a disgusted look. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Actually I do have a smoother technique. Should I try it out?”
“Can’t you give it a rest?”
“I don’t think so. Not until you agree to see me again.”
“I will see you again,” she said, too quickly. “We’re going to be working together.”
“Not good enough.”
“It has to be.”
Just then her rotund, balding boss huffed up with a harried expression on his face. “You’re back, finally!” he said, his tone more worried than accusing, though Dana seemed to hear only an accusation.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Keane,” she apologized at once, her tone uncharacteristically meek. “My lunch hour took longer than I’d planned. I’ll stay late to make up the work.”
He waved off the offer. “No, no, forget the work. You had a call—emergency, they said.”
Dana’s face went pale. “Sammy?”
Jason put his arm around her and felt her whole body trembling. When he took her icy hands in his, she instinctively clung to him. He doubted she was even aware of the contact. She was totally focused on her boss, her expression anxious.
“His school,” Mr. Keane confirmed, “again. They want you there right away. I told them I couldn’t reach you and that I would send you as soon as you got back.”
“Is he sick?” she asked, but Jason suspected she already knew that wasn’t the problem. He wondered how many calls like this she’d had. Neither she nor her boss appeared as shocked as they might have been.
“They didn’t say. Go. I can read any proofs that have to be done today. What I don’t finish, you can do tomorrow.”
Dana dropped Jason’s hand and grabbed her jacket. “Thank you.”
“You’ll let me know what has happened?” Mr Keane asked.
Jason sensed that behind the abrupt facade, the man was genuinely
