The Baby Track Read Free Page A

prim Miss Carey was too arousing, and entirely too engaging. His efficient bachelor alarm sounded. An arousing, engaging woman led to involvement, involvement inevitably meant demands and promises that swiftly escalated into commitment. He wanted none of it, not any of it.
    He had let her go'because he’d been astonished by how badly he wanted to keep her in his arms, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from her. Another danger signal.
    Cotirtney’s heart began to thud. His gaze burned her, hot as fire, and she backed away from him. She could still feel the imprint of his warm, strong hands on her shoulders, her breasts were tingling from that momentary collision with the hard muscular wall of his chest. He was too big, too close, too intimidatingly male, and she felt scared and off balance. And furious that he could affect her in such an elemental, primitive way.
    “Mr. McKay—” she began tightly.
    “You are all shook up, aren’t you?” Connor schooled his features into a coolly amused mask. He was relieved that she did not know how very far from cool he really was.
    “If your nemesis Jarrell Harcourt actually had hired me,I definitely would’ve earned my salary.” He laughed a pleased-with-himself laugh that set her teeth on edge.
    Oh, she really did not like this man! “You’ve taken up enough of my time,” Courtney fairly snarled. “If you don’t get out immediately, I’ll—”
    “You’ll what? Calling security and throwing a book at me have already been ruled out. Exactly what are your other options, Gypsy?” He should stop this at once, Connor reprimanded himself. A few more sparks and the electricity crackling between them would blow a fuse. But he couldn’t seem to stop baiting her.
    “Don’t call me Gypsy! And this is my other option,” she added dramatically, storming out of the office and slamming the door behind her. Her knees were shaking and her heartbeat thundered in her head.
    She was halfway down the hall before she admitted the true reason why she had removed herself from her own office. If she hadn’t left, she would’ve done something very physical—to him. The urge to run at him like a battering ram had been almost overwhelming. And if she had...
    It didn’t take much imagination to visualize herself • crashing into him, and Courtney had always had a very active imagination. She carried the scenario further in her mind. He would catch her, wrapping his arms around her to brace himself against the furious thrust of her. And then he would look down at her with those hot, hungry green eyes of his. And she would—
    “Courtney, what’s going on? Where is that intrusive pest?”
    Courtney started violently as she came face-to-face with Mimi Ditmar. “I—um—left him in my office,” she said weakly.
    “What does he want?” asked Mimi. “Is he selling something?”
    It occurred to Courtney that she had no idea what Connor McKay really wanted or why he’d come to her office. They had kept getting sidetracked from that little issue. Her cheeks pinked. She had behaved atrociously, she reproved herself, like a headstrong, impulsive adolescent instead of the jack-of-all-trades—writer, editor and programming/ production assistant—that she was. Working in public television, particularly for a new network, meant doing a little, sometimes a lot, of everything.
    Connor McKay, a salesman? That hadn’t even occurred to her. “I came out here to get—” Courtney stared at Mimi’s desk, saw the stack of papers and improvised “—a copy of the transcript of our show on the early days of the American cinema.” She snatched a copy from the top of the pile.
    “He’s interested in the early days of American cinema?” Mimi appeared stunned. “What is he, a filmmaker? One of those wild nonconformist types from Hollywood?”
    There had never actually been a wild nonconformist type from Hollywood in the Washington, D.C., office of NPB, but Courtney supposed that Connor