Deception. Donna Hill
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He stared at her.
“It just makes me wonder what you want with me. After all, you’re in a very nasty business.”
“Let me set the record straight.” He took a deep breath. “I involve myself in businesses that are on the brink of folding, or businesses that I feel can be better managed by me. Where is the crime in that?”
“That’s putting it delicately.” She crumpled the linen napkin into a ball, her temper flaring.
“Delicate but true.”
“You make what you do sound like a humanitarian gesture. How can you sleep at night knowing what you’ve done to so many people?”
He clenched his jaw. “I don’t do anything that I’m not allowed to do within the law.” Exasperation filled his voice. “If I make an offer to a company and they accept, what’s the harm?”
“The harm is that they give you everything they’ve worked for, and you reap the benefits. You’ve built your fortune on the backs of other people. Our people!” Her voice rose in anger. “What gives you that right?”
Their eyes locked in a battle of wills.
Clint glared at her. How dare she make him feel guilty? He was never one to blow his own horn, and he’d be damned if he’d start now. If she really wanted to know about him, let her do her own homework.
Clint was the first to break the icy contact. “If you’re ready, I’ll drive you home,” he said in a tight voice.
“I can catch a cab, thank you,” she answered, annoyed with herself for letting her emotions get out of control.
Clint signaled for the waiter and paid the check. Terri rose to slip on her coat, but not before Clint rounded the table and took it from her.
Slowly, deliberately, he helped her into her coat, the nearness of him sending her pulse on a wild gallop. He pressed his lips close to her ear, inhaling her scent, his warm breath tingling her neck.
“I don’t want the evening to end like this, Terri. I’m not interested in the campaign with your company. I can get another agency to do it. I want you and I to be friends—more than friends.”
The suggestiveness of his words forced her to look up at him.
Was it sincerity that she saw brimming in those pools of midnight or was it something else?
“I—I don’t know how that could be possible. We come from two different worlds.”
“Not two different worlds, Terri. Two different points of view. But that’s what makes a relationship interesting.”
She stepped out of his grasp, her body on fire. She reached for her purse. Her voice shuddered. “I’ve got to be going.”
“I’ll get you a cab.”
A cold wind blew viciously around them, and a shiver ran up Terri’s spine. Clint instinctively put his arm around her shoulder, easing her next to his body.
Before she could protest, a yellow cab pulled up to the corner and she thankfully stepped out of his embrace.
Clint reached around her and opened the car door. With her nerves strung to near popping, she threw out her address in a gush.
“Get the lady home safely,” Clint instructed the driver. He looked down at Terri’s upturned face. “Until we meet again,” he said softly, “and we will.” He smiled and closed the car door.
It seemed an eternity before she finally reached her apartment on Twenty-eighth Street. Her head was pounding, and she massaged her temples hoping to relieve the nervous pressure.
Taking the short elevator ride up to the third floor, she put her key in the door and stepped into the cozy comfort of her apartment.
Mechanically she hung her coat on the brass coatrack and deposited her shoes in the foyer. Then she headed straight for the fireplace, and within moments the finely decorated rooms were filled with the warmth from the crackling flames.
Crossing the gleaming wood floors, she sank down into the cottony soft comfort of her bronze-colored couch, closing her eyes against the events of the evening. Instantly a vision of Clint bloomed before her, and she involuntarily trembled, remembering all too well the feel of him, the richness of his scent, the timbre of his voice.
She jumped back up from the couch, afraid of where her feelings were taking her, and turned on the stereo, hoping to muffle the rapid beating of her heart, just as the doorbell rang.
She frowned, wondering who could be ringing her bell. Then she remembered that Stacy had said she might stop by.
Without thinking further, she padded across the room and flung open the door, a small smile of expectation lighting her face.
Clint’s lips swept down on hers. His arms enfolded her in a powerful grip. Terri’s heart slammed against her breasts as she was helplessly carried away by the sensation of his lips.
Her mind commanded her to pull away, but her body succumbed to the temptation of his tongue toying with her lips, separating them as he entered her mouth. He tasted of wine and a touch of mint. How good the two were together, she thought dizzily.
How long had it been since she’d been held, been kissed, been made to feel like a woman by just a look? Suddenly the emptiness began to slowly fill and like one ravaged by thirst, she drank of the waters.
He never knew a simple kiss could be like this. He stroked her back, delving into her mouth, wanting to seek out all of the hidden places. She was soft and strong all at once, a candy sweetness that demanded that he take more and more. He moaned against her mouth as arousal overtook him, hardening him to near bursting. His body demanded release, but his mind took control.
He released her, and she was sure that if it wasn’t for the hand that still gripped the doorknob, she would have crumpled.
“I knew I’d forgotten something,” he stated in a ragged voice, his eyes stripping her bare. With that he turned and strode down the corridor, leaving her trembling.
As she drifted off to sleep that night, her last conscious thought was that she’d have to do some serious checking on the devastating Mr. Steele.
Chapter 4
Rising early Monday morning, Terri completed her half hour of meditation, prepared her usual glass of carrot juice and took a quick shower.
Searching through her closet she selected a brilliant green silk dress with fiery splashes of red and bold gold throughout. As an added accessory, she chose an oblong gold silk scarf that draped dramatically across her right shoulder. A small gold pin in the shape of Queen Nefertiti held the scarf in place. To take away from her girlish looks, she twisted her shoulder-length locks into an intricate twist on the top of her head, accentuating her sculpted features.
Satisfied with her look, she completed her outfit by selecting a pair of green suede pumps. With shoes and purse in hand, she padded to the door in stockinged feet before slipping into her shoes.
She checked her watch. It was almost ten o’clock. She wasn’t due in the office until after twelve. That would give her at least an hour of research time in the business library. She was going to dig up every article, news item and gossip clipping that she could find on Clinton Steele and Hightower Enterprises.
Nearly two hours later, armed with a dossier full of information, Terri left the library, hailed a cab and headed for her office. She was stunned to discover the volumes of information that had been written about Clint over the past ten years. It would take days, maybe even weeks, to sort through it all. But she would—of that she was sure.
She leaned back in the cab and considered her next step. As soon as she arrived at work, she’d give her friend Lisa Barrett a call. Lisa had worked as the head of proposals for the Gateway Foundation for fifteen years. Gateway solicited help from all of the major corporations in the