From Boss to Bridegroom. Karen Kirst

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      “Kenneth, I’d like for you to remove the tools from that middle shelf.” He pointed to the long interior wall. “Once you’ve done that, Nicole can clean them and then organize the ready-made clothing there so that it is alongside the fabric bolts.”

      Quinn looked at her, brows raised. “All right with you?”

      Aware of Kenneth’s leer, she jerked a nod. So they’d be working side by side. She could handle whatever he dished out.

      With Pete and Timothy assigned to the middle aisles, Quinn retreated behind the counter to address the shelving units and drawers there.

      “I’ll go and get the water,” she told him, retrieving the pail from a hook near the aprons.

      Already comparing the shelves to his sketch, Quinn nodded absentmindedly.

      A beefy hand snatched the handle from hers. “I’ll help you.” Propelling her along the hall, Kenneth said in a voice that carried, “The stairs are steep. Wouldn’t want you to trip and break something.”

      “I don’t need your help,” she said through gritted teeth.

      At the door, the pretense fell away. “You’ve always been a snob, you know that? Thinking you’re better than everybody else. Too good for our humble town. One day you’ll regret looking down your nose at me, little witch.”

      She inwardly grimaced at the taunt that had originated on the school grounds. “It was a silly harvest dance, Kenneth. Forget about it.”

      His nostrils flared, lips flattening into a sneer. “I will as soon as you’ve learned your lesson.” Turning on his heel, he tossed over his shoulder, “Get your own water.”

      Hurrying out into the searing midday heat, Nicole descended the stairs on unsteady legs, angry at herself for letting a bully like Kenneth intimidate her. One word to any of her cousins was all it would take to be rid of him. But whining to them felt wrong. She was no longer a child. If she planned to make it on her own in the city, she’d have to deal with problems herself. There’d be no well-meaning protectors to the rescue.

      Scooping water out of the rain barrel, she went back inside and, studiously avoiding all four males in the room, gathered soap and rags while waiting for Kenneth to unload the shelves. He ignored her for the most part, but his dislike was made plain in the dark looks cast her way. Working in the aisle behind them, Pete and Timothy’s low conversation was interspersed with laughter that sounded mischievous to her ears. Were they laughing at her? Plotting something?

      On edge the entire afternoon, she trained her attention on the tasks Quinn gave her. It wasn’t until she and Kenneth had moved to the china display that things went awry.

      She was carefully removing a stack of dinner plates when Kenneth’s hand shot out and, seizing her wrist, yanked so that she tipped the lot of them. The crash reverberated in the silent store. Stunned disbelief held her frozen.

      An expression of false concern settled across his features. “Uh-oh. That’s going to be expensive to replace. Mr. Darling, I’m afraid your assistant got careless with the merchandise.”

      Straightening from his crouch at the opposite end of the room, Quinn’s frown carved deep grooves on either side of his mouth. He came and surveyed the shards littering the floorboards. Beyond his shoulder, Pete and Timothy elbowed each other.

      A resigned sigh escaped him as his gaze prodded Nicole’s. “Clean up this mess. And from now on, ask for help with the heavy stuff. Kenneth will be happy to help, I’m sure.”

      “Anytime.” Kenneth’s smile held a hint of cruelty. Quinn couldn’t see it, because he was looking at her with something akin to disappointment.

      Indignation seared her, burned into her cheeks. If she confessed the truth, Kenneth would only deny it. Her trustworthiness would be called into question.

      Subduing the urge to stomp her feet, she croaked, “It won’t happen again.”

      “Will she have to pay for the damage, Mr. Darling?”

      Quinn’s brow furrowed. “That won’t be necessary this time.”

      This time. An unspoken warning to not make the same mistake again.

      When he’d returned to his work, she shot her nemesis a scorching glare. “How could you do that?” she demanded.

      “I didn’t.” His upper lip curled. “You did.”

      Leaving her to clean up alone, Kenneth went and pretended to help his friends. Nicole took out her frustration on the broom. Being blamed for something that wasn’t her fault left a bad taste in her mouth. Anger and humiliation warred for supremacy.

      She could hardly bear to look at Quinn. Irrationally, she blamed him for not seeing through Kenneth’s act.

      The remainder of the afternoon and early evening crawled by. Just as escape looked likely, Quinn waylaid her in the office. The trio had left ten minutes ago, and she was eager to get away from her boss’s assessing glances.

      “It’s late, Quinn. I’m exhausted and hungry.” I need time to recover before doing it all again tomorrow morning. No telling what my enemy has planned for me.

      “This won’t take but a minute.” He leaned against the door frame, hands in his pockets and ankles crossed.

      “If this is about the dishes, I—”

      “No.” His expression turned thoughtful. “I detected something...off between you and Kenneth. Do you two have a history? Because if you’re uncomfortable working with him, I can send him on his way in the morning.”

      “If you’re asking if we’ve ever courted, the answer is no,” she spluttered. “Absolutely not.”

      “Then what’s the problem?”

      Here was her chance to explain everything. To absolve herself and be rid of Kenneth and his buddies. But she was, above all, a private person. Exposing her problems to her boss didn’t hold an ounce of appeal.

      “No problem.” Pushing an errant curl behind her ear, she rubbed a sore spot in her lower back. “If there are no more questions, I really do have to go.”

      Quinn didn’t appear convinced. Still, he moved sideways to let her pass. As she was edging through the doorway and he was centimeters away, he said softly, “Good night, Duchess.”

      Nicole stiffened at the brush of his minty breath across her cheek.

      She didn’t like nicknames on principle. Caleb did it to tease her—good-natured, brotherly ribbing that nevertheless irked her. Kenneth’s intent was to demean her. What was Quinn Darling’s motive? And why did a little thrill zip up her spine?

      Risking a glance at this close range, she didn’t detect a trace of cruelty in those light brown eyes, merely lazy curiosity.

      She was an enigma to him, was she? Well, he was wasting his time trying to figure her out. She wasn’t about to divulge her secrets to the likes of him.

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