It Happened in Manhattan. Emily McKay

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      Apparently she’d gotten it though, because she continued on as if the energy between them wasn’t charged with the memory of soul-scalding sex.

      She shook her head wryly. “His attitude was archaic, but there you have it.”

      “So you decided to prove him wrong,” he surmised.

      “No, I didn’t even do that. I really tried to marry the perfect man to take over Biedermann’s. I had him all picked out. Even got him to propose.” When the elevator doors didn’t shut fast enough for her liking she started punching the close button repeatedly. “He just decided to marry someone else instead. I won’t bore you with the details of my love life. Not when they’re available online in several different gossip columns.”

      The elevator started to drop and again she laughed.

      “See, that’s the funny part, right? Flash-forward a year. I’ve made a complete mess running Biedermann’s, just like my father predicted. You swoop in to rescue the company. FMJ is going to take care of everything. But—” she hastily added, as if he were about to argue with her. “I’ll still get to play at being president of the company. You’ll be watching over my shoulder, so there’s no chance I’ll make things worse. I’ll just get to sit there, looking good, while a big strong man fixes things for me. It’s the job I was raised to do.”

      “Kitty—” he began, but the doors opened and she cut him off as they did.

      “My father would be so proud.”

      She said it with the cavalier indifference of someone who was truly in pain. But damn, she was good at hiding it.

      If he hadn’t met her under other circumstances, if he’d never seen her with her guard down, he’d probably even be fooled. But as it was, he saw right through her.

      If she’d been weeping and moping, maybe he could have ignored her despair. Or handed her off into the care of someone who knew her better. But these bitter self-recriminations … well, he remembered how he’d felt after his father died. The grief, the anger, the guilt, all rolled into one. He wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

      He fell into step beside her, and said, “Look, you’re going through a hard time. You shouldn’t be alone tonight. It’s Friday night. Why not let me take you out for—”

      “It’s not necessary. I have plans.”

      “Plans?” he asked. “After a day like today?”

      She waved a hand, still putting on a brave face. “It’s something I couldn’t get out of. A commitment from weeks ago.”

      He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for her to supply more information.

      Finally she added, “It’s a fundraiser for The Children’s Medical Foundation. At The Pierre. Very posh. You wouldn’t be comfortable there,” she finished dismissively.

      She was either trying to insult him or she’d made up the engagement to put him off. He didn’t believe for a minute that she planned on going to this charity event, even if she had bought the tickets months ago. She was just trying to get rid of him. But he couldn’t stand the thought of her all alone, wallowing in her misery.

      “Great.” Why not pretend to buy her story? “I’ll come with you.”

      She shot him a look icy enough to freeze his eyebrows off.

      Okay, so he couldn’t exactly imagine Kitty wallowing in anything. Here in New York she was as cool and collected as they came.

      But he’d seen her outside her element. He’d seen her vulnerable. He knew that a passionate, emotional woman lurked beneath the surface of her icy cool perfection. If he peeled back the layers to reveal that woman, he’d probably find someone who could use a shoulder to cry on.

      Kitty stopped in the lobby, ignoring the other people filtering out onto the street. “You don’t need to do that.”

      “I don’t have plans.”

      “Your partner—”

      “Has a teleconference with some people in China.” “Who called a meeting for a Saturday morning?” she pressed.

      “You know what they say.” He flashed a smile. “If you don’t come in on Saturday, don’t bother coming in on Sunday, either.”

      “I’m fine,” she insisted.

      But she wasn’t. He could see the strain in the lines around her eyes and in the tightness of her mouth. Of course, there was a chance his attempt to be kind was only making matters worse, but his gut told him to keep pushing. He was almost past her defenses, but charm alone wouldn’t get her to open up. He needed to change tactics.

      “Oh, I get it,” he said. “You don’t want to be with me.”

      “Exactly.”

      “You’re probably afraid of how you feel about me.” A lock of her hair had fallen free of its twist. He reached out and gave it a quick tug before tucking it behind her ear. He let his fingers linger there, at the sensitive place along the back of her ear.

      She rolled her eyes. “That’s not going to work.”

      “What?” he asked innocently.

      “You’re trying to bait me,” she accused.

      “Hey, I understand. You don’t want to be alone with me. Can’t say I blame you.” He dropped his eyes to her lips. He let himself remember what it had been like to kiss her. To feel her breath hot on his skin. When he met her gaze again, he knew she remembered it, too. “It’s probably wise. We should spend as little time together as possible.”

      Her breath seemed to catch in her throat and her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. Then she seemed to shake off the effects. Her eyes narrowed in obvious annoyance. “Fine.” She turned and started to walk away. “If you’re so desperate for something to do tonight that you’ll pull that cheap trick, you can come along. But don’t blame me if tickets to this fundraiser are outrageously expensive at the last minute.”

      He smiled as he fell into step beside her. The spark was back in her eyes. The bite was back in her words. She’d be fine.

      “I’ll pick you up at your place,” he offered.

      “That’s not necessary.”

      “I don’t mind.”

      “Well, I do,” she countered. “You don’t honestly think I’m going to tell you where I live, do you?”

      “You don’t honestly believe I don’t already know, do you?”

      She turned and shot him an assessing stare. “You know where I live? What did you do, hire a private investigator?”

      “I didn’t have to. Jonathon has a whole team that researches that kind of thing when we’re looking to acquire a company.”

      “I don’t know whether to be creeped out or impressed.” She reached the street СКАЧАТЬ