Eclipse of the Heart Read Free Page B

gleamed in the soft lamplight that glowed throughout the
honey-colored living room. A thin strip of tan skin between the edge of his
crisply cut hair and the starched collar of his white cotton shirt drew her
eye. But she banished the imp in her brain who wondered what else he might take
off. Where would that kind of thinking lead her?
    She forced her gaze around the room, looking for a
distraction. The suite was big enough that they wouldn’t be tripping over each
other. Logan had walked behind the sleek mahogany bar, a sinuous curve of
polished wood slinking against the left wall. For her part, if she were going
to do any slinking, it would be on those huge, overstuffed sofas, which
whispered a silky invitation to lie back, relax, and accept their voluptuous
embrace. She moved toward one, then decided against
taking a seat. No one could look professional reclining in that almost-bed.
    The floor-to-ceiling windows at the far end of the room had an
angel’s view of the gleaming lights of Chicago. Not that she felt one bit like
an angel. More like the devil’s mistress.
    She watched Logan’s dark head dip down behind the huge
bouquet of jewel-toned flowers adorning the bar. When his broad shoulders re-emerged,
one arm lifting a bottle of amber colored liquid, she knew exactly how Eve must
have felt in the Garden of Eden. Choose the clever, enticing devil, capable of
luring any woman to any delight – or the milquetoast Adam? No competition at
all.
    Logan raised the bottle. "You look nervous," he
said. "Would you like a drink?"
    He poured the whiskey into a crystal tumbler. Amanda almost
expected the tinkling ice cubes to vaporize under the heat of his gaze.
    "No, thanks." She cleared
her throat. "I don’t drink when I’m working."
    Raising one brow, he set the bottle down on the bar with a
small thud. "I won’t take advantage of you."
    Amanda caught her breath. Why did the look in his eye say
otherwise?
    He walked toward her, holding his drink in one hand while he
loosened his tie and yanked it off with his other hand.
    "Where will I be working?" she asked. Perhaps a
reminder of her employment status would halt his advance. Or
at least the disrobing.
    "That’s your choice," he answered, giving her that
half smile he’d perfected. Just one corner of his mouth turned up, but his lips
and dark eyes relaxed.
    He gestured with his drink. "The office and the
kitchenette are to your left, the bedrooms on the right."
    Bedrooms? She stiffened.
    His alert eyes caught the slight movement. "Don’t
worry." His long fingers moved at his throat and the top button on his
shirt popped open. "Sleeping with me is not part of your job
description."
     "I hardly expected it would be." 
Amanda heaved a silent sigh of relief. That statement had been clear enough. If
she felt a twinge of disappointment, she masked it. His familiarity hadn’t
meant anything. Big deal. She hadn’t taken this job to
find a boyfriend.
    She had to be careful not to offend him, though. She had to
remember that he was the boss.
    He stopped in front of her, crowding her. The relaxation of
his attire hadn’t subdued his magnetism. His high-planed cheekbones,
well-defined jaw and slash of black eyebrows still marked him as a strong,
damnably attractive man. She could smell him, his faint, spicy cologne overlaid
on a trace of soap.
    "May I help you off with your jacket?" He touched
her shoulder. "You don't look comfortable."
    She stepped away from him. "You shouldn’t make personal
comments." Why did she feel and sound like a maiden aunt? "Though I
know we’ll be working together closely, I expect both of us to maintain a
professional attitude."
    "A professional attitude," he repeated. He placed
his drink down on the glass dining table beside her, and the little clinking
sound chimed like a warning bell. He began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.
    Amanda stared at him. She could tell his actions were
automatic, but they still made her uneasy.
    There were only