Overnight Cinderella. Katherine Garbera

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      The dress was baggy and understated. Her low-heeled shoes were maidenly and her hairstyle old-fashioned. She was the type of woman who should wear cotton underpants and support hose. Why wasn’t she?

      Duke was uncomfortable. He knew enough about sexual harassment law to know he was in for a world of hurt if he said anything, yet he couldn’t keep quiet. The spectacular legs hidden under that ugly dress demanded mentioning. Was this what his body had sensed days earlier? That the ugly clothing was just camouflage for a spectacular woman?

      The intensity of her blush could heat a small house in winter. She averted her gaze and refused to look at him. Her nervousness evoked a tenderness that was at odds with his arousal. Yet just as strong. She fiddled with her glasses, taking them off and wiping them clean and then putting them back on.

      “I believe we have a ten-thirty meeting,” he said.

      “You’re a few minutes early,” she snapped.

      Duke realized she intended to ignore the fact that she’d just had her skirt hiked halfway up to her waist. He forced the tantalizing image from his mind, though the loose garter remained. He didn’t believe in emotional entanglements. Least of all with klutzy, average-looking women.

      She held out her hand. He grasped it with the intent of releasing it as quickly as he had the other day. But her hand was soft—softer than any other he’d ever felt. Even his deceased wife’s hands had been callused from evenings spent playing volleyball.

      He stroked her palm with his forefinger before he let his hand fall back to his side. He knew he shouldn’t have, but that damn unfastened garter lingered in his mind and the image of her on the desk, her sexy legs encircling his waist, remained in his mind.

      “Please have a seat,” she said, motioning for him to use one of the two guest chairs. They were standard office issue and looked about as comfortable as wet shoes. Yet the rest of her office welcomed him in a way he’d never before experienced.

      A four-shelf bookcase overflowed with books, every tabletop surface held picture frames of large family groupings and individual members. Candle-holders and potpourri also abounded. It was the sweetest-smelling office on the floor. She had soft music with some woman chanting playing in the background.

      Her office—a reflection of the woman herself—was so feminine it bothered him. There was even a lace thing on the surface of her credenza crammed with myriad little dust-collecting knickknacks. He felt uncomfortable and out of place, like a warrior returning fresh from war to find his house had been taken over by aliens. The same way he felt when he walked by those damned lingerie stores in the mall. Hell, she probably spent a good deal of her time in those stores.

      “Duke, I’ve done some preliminary work on security for the Gala, but would love to hear your ideas.”

      He had some thoughts he’d love to share with her, too, but he had to keep his mind on business. Security for the Gala was crucial. With recent labor disputes, threats had been made. Since the strikers weren’t anywhere close to resolving their employment issues, Duke was personally going to monitor the security.

      “I’ve booked the Seashore Mansion on Hilton Head for the event.”

      Duke shook his head, he was familiar with the five-star luxury resort and knew the layout. With its balconies and beachfront access there was little chance of good security. The resort relied on the private beach to keep intruders at bay. That wouldn’t do. He’d have to do an on-site tour and then find a place that met his security needs.

      “Don’t shake your head. I already signed a contract with them.”

      “You may have to break it.”

      “No, I won’t. Your job is to oversee security, not secure a location.”

      “I can’t do my job if I don’t know what’s involved. I’ll call the hotel myself and see if they’ll meet our needs.”

      “‘Our needs’?”

      “For both the event and the security.”

      “Is there a security risk?”

      “Nothing my team can’t handle, but there have been a few threats made since the strike started.”

      “I didn’t realize that. I’m very good at my job, Duke. Don’t let my outside packaging fool you.”

      A vision of that unhooked garter wandered up from his memory. “Your undergarments are in no way average or mousy.”

      She blushed. Against his will he was fascinated by the tide of peach sweeping up her cheeks. Did the color start at her breasts? He’d never met any woman who was as open in her emotions as this lady.

      “You’re a cad to mention that.”

      “Cad?”

      “Cad,” she said, and gave him a tight smile.

      “A bit Victorian in our language, are we?”

      “In my lifestyle, too, not that it’s any of your business. I hope we don’t have to change locations. The grand ballroom overlooks the ocean, and the patio for the reception is simply the best I’ve seen up and down the coast. We really want to do things right this year.”

      “I know, but security has to be a consideration.” It was the one thing he did really well. Protect strangers, he thought.

      “Very well. I have a backup location.”

      Duke didn’t say anything else. He admired her spunk and preplanning. She’d known her location might not work out and had a contingency plan. Despite what she’d said about being mousy and average, her personality said the opposite.

      She was full of spirit, and though he admired grit, he didn’t want to admire her because she was also intelligent. Two qualities he’d always found attractive in a woman. Dammit. He wasn’t attracted to her. His racing blood and arousal said differently.

      “Where’s the backup location?”

      She told him and they discussed the other details of the event. The invited speaker was a renowned motivationalist who would also need a security detail. They even talked about checking out the workers before letting them into the ballroom the night of the Gala.

      As the meeting progressed, one thing became very clear: Cami wanted to be in charge. He wondered if she had the confidence to pull off the event and the high-level meetings involved. He knew she had the skill. Her preplanning and poise in this meeting made that apparent.

      He wondered what stimulation would work the best with her. He’d bet she couldn’t resist a dare.

      “The work you’ve done is great. Send all the files up to my office and I’ll have my secretary book biweekly meetings for us. I’ll oversee the coordination of the security details while you do the grunt work.”

      He knew he shouldn’t be pleased to have his theory proven but couldn’t help it. She was almost beautiful when her eyes sparkled with determination.

      Tapping an unpainted fingernail against the surface of her desk, she said, “Duke, you seem to have misunderstood something.”

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