In The Enemy's Embrace. Mindy Neff

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      Honestly. Talk about ruining all the benefits of the stress-relief swim. “On second thought, maybe I will—”

      Before she could finish her sentence or advise him to step back so he wouldn’t get wet, he hooked his hands beneath her arms and lifted her out of the water as though she weighed little more than a leather saddle.

      She grabbed for his arms, then flattened her palms on his chest to steady herself on her feet, leaving wet handprints on his upper arms and front of his shirt.

      “Criminy. Warn a person, why don’t you.” She reached for the towel, dabbed at the water on herself, then dabbed at his shirt.

      He stepped back. “I’ll dry.”

      “Well, it serves you right. I could have gotten out just fine by myself and saved you a change of clothes—though why you’re still wearing your business clothes is beyond me.”

      “Jessica?”

      “What?” She blotted her face and chest with the towel, held it in front of her.

      A dimple winked in one of his cheeks. He picked up the end of the towel, dabbed at her jaw. “You missed a spot.”

      She could hardly draw a breath, much less speak. After standing frozen like a dummy for a full three seconds, she snatched the towel back from him and wrapped it around her torso, covering herself from chest to knees. “Thank you. I can get the rest.”

      He stepped back and shoved his hands back in his pockets. “Do I make you nervous?”

      “Of course not.” Absolutely.

      “Then how come you get that little twitch beside your eye when I get close?”

      “Annoyance, probably.”

      His lips curved ever so slightly. “I came out to tell you I’ll be placing that conference call to the West Coast in twenty minutes.”

      “Oh. Thank you for reminding me. I’ll be right in.”

      “You’ve got time still.” He turned, started to walk away, then paused. “Hey, Red?”

      She’d just picked up the edge of the towel to blot her hair. “Yes?”

      “I like your suit. It’s, uh…sexy.”

      She dropped her arm and the corner of the towel she’d lifted, her jaw going slack when he winked.

      Doggone it, she was going to figure this man out, learn to keep her emotions on an even keel around him. Otherwise, the way her heart kept leaping, she’d have a heart attack at the ripe young age of twenty-five.

      On the other hand…sexy was much better than the bland “nice” he’d uttered over the red dress at the mall. It was definitely better than “kiddo.” And calling her Red…now that was about as unoriginal as you could get when faced with a woman like her with bright red hair.

      In all honesty, she kind of liked the nickname. It was friendly, more intimate. Much better than kiddo, that was for sure, though not as good as darling or sweetheart or…

      Criminy! Get a grip!

      FIVE MINUTES BEFORE the scheduled call, Jessica knocked lightly on the open door of the study and went in when Nick gestured her forward. He was speaking on the phone, and since the conversation sounded like a personal one, she wandered around the room.

      She trailed her fingers over dark, rich woods, oversize, comfortable furniture and shelves of books. On the wall was a photo of Nick’s brother, Chase, at the helm of a sailboat, and another one of him holding a trophy beside a race car. There were several poses of his parents, as well as pictures of beautiful Arabian horses that she knew for certain had come from Desert Rose stock.

      For a guy who seemed to be all work and little play, the pictures on the walls painted him as a family man. There were none of the priceless, stuffy art pieces that a lot of wealthy people treasured. Instead, the paneling was adorned with images of his parents, his brother and the sleek Arabians he loved. Interesting.

      She shoved a stray curl off her forehead. Her hair was still damp from her swim, so she’d pinned it in a loose knot on top of her head. She saw Nick’s gaze pass over her, saw his frown and could just imagine what he was thinking—that a barefoot woman in a short sundress wasn’t his idea of a businesswoman to be taken seriously.

      But honestly. She wasn’t about to put on panty hose, a suit and heels just to listen to a business meeting over the speaker phone. This was one of the things that annoyed her—being judged by appearance.

      Before she could get totally carried away putting thoughts in his head that, in all fairness, might not be there, he hung up the phone and leaned back in the chair.

      “Change of plans. The CEO at Lusklow had an illness in the family to attend to.”

      “Oh, I hope everything’s all right.”

      “Yeah, me, too. They suspect his wife has cancer. He’s dropping everything and staying home with her until they get word.”

      “I like him already.”

      Nick raised a brow. “That surprises you—that a man would put his family ahead of business?”

      “No. It doesn’t surprise me. I just said I liked that about him. The men in my family put their personal lives above business. It’s what I’m used to.”

      She sat down on a leather chair, felt the dampness of her bathing suit seep through onto the back of her sundress. Great. Now she’d have to find a way to back out of the room without looking like a total dork.

      “You’ll learn that I generally do business only with people I like and respect.”

      “Are you saying if a company came to you with a surefire moneymaking proposition, no way to lose, and you didn’t like the major players, you’d turn down the opportunity?”

      “Yes. There are plenty of deals out there.”

      “Do you ever run into a situation where somebody doesn’t like you?”

      “Sure. Same holds true. If we can’t get along, no sense mingling our business.”

      Jessica wondered if that “we” was actually aimed at her. Heck, they could hardly sustain a truce for twelve hours. And they were already business partners.

      That worried her. Was there room at the top of Coleman-Grayson for both of them? Their personalities were totally different from their fathers. Just because Jared Grayson and Randy Coleman meshed as a team didn’t mean Nick and Jessica would. Their fathers had formed a partnership based on like ideas—and had chosen each other.

      Nick and Jessica were tossed into the arena by birth, not forethought.

      All around, this could be a risky thing.

      Though it was a risk Jessica was willing to take.

      After graduation, she’d put off coming to work in Dallas, sure that she’d СКАЧАТЬ