And The Winner Gets...Married!. Metsy Hingle
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how she felt about him, he would never know. She picked up the envelope containing the certificate for the bachelor auction. After enclosing it in a transmittal envelope, she started to attach a cover note to Tara declining the offer of the ticket. Then she hesitated. Maybe she would think about it some more. She tackled the pile of letters and messages on her desk, determined to bury herself in work and forget about those magical moments with Justin last night.
“What else?”
“I need you to sign off on these letters and the checks that go with them,” Kim informed Justin two afternoons later.
Quickly he scanned the letters in question, noted the sums of the accompanying checks and scrawled his signature across the documents where indicated. As he did so, he steeled himself against her scent—a whiff of roses and something exotic—that filled his head each time he was near her. “Is that everything?”
“Except for the final draft on the Schaeffer document. I’ve put in the additional changes you wanted, but you’ll probably want to go over it one more time to be sure everything’s covered.”
She handed him the lengthy document he’d worked and reworked several times already, and as she did so, his fingers brushed hers. Kim snatched her hand away—but not before he’d felt that stab of awareness again. “I’ll take a look at it now, then maybe you can get out of here at a decent time, for a change.”
“I’ll be at my desk.”
After she’d exited his office and he was alone again, Justin swore. Something had to give—and soon. Ever since the other night, Kim had been acting differently toward him. Oh, she still was doing a great job as his assistant. He couldn’t have asked for anyone more knowledgeable, efficient or reliable. But he sensed a distance now, a wall, that hadn’t been there before. While he…he had been going slowly insane with very nonbusinesslike thoughts about her. Despite the fact that he’d driven himself relentlessly at the office during the day, then pounded on the bags at the gym until he was exhausted in the evenings, he’d lain awake for the past two nights thinking about Kim, wanting her. Try as he might, he hadn’t been able to forget the image of her the other night. Sighing, he sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.
And there she was again with her hair tumbling down her back and shoulders. He curled his hands into fists, remembered how silky that hair had felt, how soft and warm her skin had been. He dragged in a breath and could have sworn he could smell her—that sweetness of roses and sunshine and secrets.
Get a grip, Connelly.
Justin snapped open his eyes. He had to stop thinking of Kim that way, he reminded himself. Maybe the trip to New York would help. Surely spending all day Friday, plus the weekend away from Kim would help him get his head and hormones straight. And who knows, maybe that bachelor auction would turn out to be a blessing in disguise. With a little luck he just might meet someone interesting. Maybe another female would make him forget all these wild thoughts he’d been having about Kim, Justin decided. And with that plan of action firmly in mind, he picked up a pen and went to work on the agreement.
“That should do it,” Justin muttered some time later. He tossed down his pen and leaned back in his chair. Finally, after incorporating several suggestions from his father and fine-tuning the document once more, he was satisfied. Now he just needed to sell it to Schaeffer. Stretching to ease the stiffness in his shoulders, he cupped his hands behind his head and spun his chair around to face the windows.
“Aw, hell,” he grumbled at the sight of the star-filled skyline. A quick glance at his watch told him he’d been at it for hours, which meant that Kim had been forced to stay late again. Shoving out of his seat, he tore out of his office.
“What’s wrong?” Kim asked, jerking her gaze up from the computer screen.
“It’s late, and I promised that you’d get out of here at a decent hour for a change.”
“It’s only half past eight,” she informed him, and averted her gaze.
“Only? You’re supposed to be able to leave at five.” He could probably count the times on one hand that she’d left at quitting time. He claimed a seat on the corner of her desk. “And thanks to me, you’ve had to work late again.”
“I didn’t mind. I had some things I needed to catch up on. So did you finish?”
“Yes,” he told her, but made no attempt to give her the agreement.
Finally she shifted her gaze back to his for a moment. “If you intend for me to put in those changes, you’re going to have to give that to me,” she said, and held out her hand for the document.
“I’ll plug in the changes. Just pull up the original agreement on the screen and then you can get out of here.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll do it,” she argued.
“No. Go on home. You’ve stayed late enough.”
Kim hesitated a moment. “Justin, is there something in that agreement that you’d prefer I not know about?”
“Of course not.”
“Then since it is part of my job, I’ll make the changes,” she informed him. “Besides, as you’ll recall, the last time you used my computer, you, um, had some difficulties.”
“That wasn’t my fault,” he said, recalling that the system had ended up crashing when the terminal had insisted he’d performed an illegal operation.
“I’m sure it was just a coincidence. All the same I’ll feel better if you let me make the changes.”
Reluctantly Justin handed over the pages.
She scanned the edited sections a moment. “It’ll probably take me about twenty minutes to do these and print up a fresh copy. If you want to go home, I can drop the revised set by your apartment on my way home.”
He found the idea of Kim visiting his apartment appealing. Which was why he said, “I’ll wait.”
When his stomach grumbled a few seconds later, Kim looked up. “Maybe you should go down the street and have dinner while I take care of this. By the time you get back, it’ll be finished.”
“What about you? You haven’t eaten yet, either. And don’t tell me you’re not starved because I wouldn’t believe you.”
“I’m all right,” she said as she continued to scroll down on the screen and make changes. “I’ll pick myself up something on the way home.”
“Do you like pizza?”
“Yes,” she said, pausing, her voice cautious, as were her eyes.
“Everything on it?”
“Justin, this isn’t necessary.”
He ignored her and reached for the phone. After dialing information, he had the number connected. “Everything on it?”
She frowned at him. “No anchovies.”
Justin grinned at that. “You’re a girl after my own heart, Kim Lindgren,” he told her, and placed an order for a super-size pizza extravaganza with everything except anchovies.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” she admonished. “I’ll never be able to eat even a third of that pizza.”
“Good. That means there’s more for me.”
“But I thought…”
“You thought?” Justin prompted.
“I thought you would prefer to sit down to a real meal, something from a nice restaurant.”
“By a ‘real meal’ I take it you mean a thick steak or some expensive entrée with a fancy sauce served on china?” Justin countered.
“Yes.”
Justin grinned at that. “You obviously don’t know many teenagers,