Название: No Peeking...
Автор: Stephanie Bond
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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His voice sounded sleepy around the edges, so she guessed he hadn’t been awake for long. But when a creaking noise echoed in the background, she realized with a jolt that he was still in bed. Was he wearing boxers or briefs? Or did he sleep in the nude?
“Are you there?” he asked.
“Uh, yes…I’m here,” she said, swallowing hard. “What can I do for you, Mr. Burns?”
“Thanks for the research on Sunpiper.”
“You’re welcome, sir. But I’d planned to do more.”
“Good. Because I’m going to Miami to see what I can find out locally, and I need some help. I was hoping you’d agree to go with me.”
Her pulse rocketed. A business trip with Dominick? “I…I can’t think…I mean, I don’t think—”
“I’ll double your hourly fees for the duration of the trip.”
Her eyebrows rose, along with visions of making an extra mortgage payment. “Wh-when were you planning to go?”
“I’m flying down tomorrow, returning on the twenty-sixth.”
“Oh, I couldn’t go,” Violet said, exhaling in near relief. “This is the busiest time of the year for my business.”
“Can’t your assistant take over?”
“No.” Violet knew she’d spend the few days before Christmas traveling all over the city wrapping gifts for people who realized they didn’t have time to do it themselves. “Besides, I’m spending Christmas Eve with my parents.”
“Oh.” He sounded disappointed—and a little surprised that she had other plans. “Well, what if I got you back Christmas Eve morning?”
“I…still don’t think that would be possible, sir. I have…commitments. I’m sure you can find someone else to assist you.”
“But I want you, Vee. You agreed to help me with this research.”
“Whatever I could find on the Internet or over the phone,” she reminded him.
“If money is the issue—”
“It isn’t,” she interrupted, looking for a way out, or at least a way to postpone the conversation. “Maybe after the first of the year…”
“That won’t work for me,” he said. “I’m leaving for Brazil in early January, and since another company is interested in buying Sunpiper, I need to move fast. If you’re worried about the sleeping arrangements, we would, of course, have separate rooms.”
Her midsection tightened at the mere mention of beds, proof of just how untenable it would be to travel with Dominick Burns when her mind insisted on spinning fantasies about him. “I’m afraid my answer is still no.”
“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “I’m heartbroken. We would’ve had a blast, Vee.”
“Thanks for the invitation,” she murmured. “Goodbye.” She hung up the handset, tingling all over. I’m heartbroken. We would’ve had a blast.
Apparently he wasn’t planning to spend the holidays with his family. He’d be in Miami, partying with half-naked women in the sun and surf. Violet knew he wouldn’t have any trouble finding someone else to go in her place to “help” him. In fact, if the rumors were to be believed, Dominick didn’t mind being helped by more than one woman at a time.
Lillian appeared at the door again. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” Violet snapped, reaching for her calendar and a diversion. Feeling contrite, she forced a calming note into her voice. “Did anything materialize from the calls you returned yesterday?”
“One didn’t go anywhere, but the other two customers are supposed to stop by this afternoon to drop off gifts to be wrapped. I noticed all the paper and ribbon in the workroom,” she said, gesturing to the room behind her desk. “I have the price lists and I used to wrap gifts at Macy’s. I can take care of the packages and deliver them, too, if you want.”
Violet jotted notes, then stood and shrugged into her coat, already calculating how she could make it back in time to greet the customers herself. “I have to make a few pickups and deliveries this morning, as well as go by Ms. Kingsbury’s, and have lunch with my mother. But I should be back before two.”
“Is there anything I can do while you’re gone?” Lillian looked hopeful.
“No,” Violet said abruptly, then realized she was letting the tossed letter and the call with Dominick make her cranky. Neither situation was Lillian’s fault. She manufactured a smile as she swept through the door. “Just hold down the fort until I get back.”
“What if I happen to find the pink envelope you lost?”
Violet whirled around and leveled her gaze at the woman. “Burn it.”
4
JUGGLING HER COFFEE, her purse, the box of holiday decorations and the gifts, Violet unlocked her car door, her chest clicking with renewed annoyance at herself. She shouldn’t have opened the letter to begin with—it was causing her to get even more out of sorts than she usually did when she thought about Dominick. At least now that the letter was on its way to a landfill, she’d be able to forget the silly words she’d written back when she had been under the delusion that sex played a major role in a person’s life.
That might be true for other people. But since college, she’d come to the conclusion that she just wasn’t a sexual person, not like Nan, who made flirting look easy. Anytime a man talked to Violet, her practical mind skipped ahead to the inevitable disaster the relationship would become and her tongue would tie in knots. She didn’t stand a chance against the swarm of pretty, playful Southern girls that Atlanta had to offer up.
But she had her business, she reminded herself as she stopped to pick up and deliver dry cleaning at four different locations, selected twenty-five perfect poinsettias for a corporate holiday party and picked up six needlepoint stockings customized with the names of a client’s grandchildren.
Besides, she thought wryly while shopping for gourmet items on Ms. Kingsbury’s grocery list, she had more luck with the four-legged male types anyway. On impulse, Violet picked up a bag of treats for Winslow. Maybe if the dog ate more, he wouldn’t be so picky about where and when he did his business.
When she arrived at the gaily decorated brick home, the dog was waiting for her at the door with his leash in his mouth.
“He’s been sitting there all morning,” Ms. Kingsbury said. “I tried to take him out several times, but he wouldn’t go.”
Violet handed over the woman’s credit card from her “returns” shopping trip and set the bag of groceries on a table. “I’ll see what I can do. Is it okay if I give him a treat?”
“Whatever you like, dear. Sometimes I feel as if Winslow is more your dog than mine.”
After clicking the leash onto his collar, Violet retrieved a doggie treat СКАЧАТЬ