Slade Baron's Bride. Sandra Marton
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don’t know your address,” he said. “Or your phone number.”
“I’ll give them to you in the morning,” Lara had answered, but she’d known she was lying. She’d waited until he fell asleep. Then she’d dressed and let herself quietly from the room.
She hadn’t gone with him for passion, she’d gone for what he could give her. For a child. That was all she’d wanted from him…
Wasn’t it? she thought, as she stared out at the Baltimore harbor.
Lara swung away from the window. Her intercom was buzzing. She cleared her throat and reached for it.
“Ms. Stevens? Mr. Baron’s arrived. He’s in the conference room, with the directors. Mr. Dobbs says would you please join them now?”
“Thank you, Nancy.”
She sounded calm. That was good. She looked it, too, she thought as she took out her compact and peered into it. But her hand trembled a little as she smoothed back her hair.
“Don’t be an idiot, Lara,” she told her reflection. She was prepared. She knew what she had to do and how to do it. She’d get Slade Baron out of Baltimore so quickly it would make his head spin. As for facing him—that wasn’t a problem. What she’d felt for him, what she’d thought she felt, had never been real.
Lara smoothed down her skirt, plucked the folder from her desk and left her office.
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