Reflected Pleasures. Linda Conrad

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Reflected Pleasures - Linda Conrad


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but I haven’t had time.”

      “Oh. I’m sure it will be fine. It’s all I could afford until I can save up some money from this job,” she lied. Money was not a problem. But she wanted desperately to make her own way for once, and make it in a small and completely plain way at that.

      “I’ve already put in a few personal touches,” she added. “It’s beginning to feel like home.” Well, maybe not exactly like any of her parents’ many homes. Thirty-room mansions didn’t usually qualify as cozy. And not one of them had ever felt like her home.

      But Merri was determined to start a new life without any of the pretensions of all that wealth. She was ready for a home to call her own and for honest contacts with real live human beings. She’d turned her back for good on fictional family life and plastic feelings.

      So why did she have to be drooling over the one man who could end it all with just one phone call? Why was he so different?

      Okay, so he was probably the most real man she’d ever come across in her whole life. There was not one single thing about Tyson Steele that was plastic or phony. But she simply had to remember that the man was her boss, and she had no business thinking about him in any other way.

      “Yeah?” he said with a half smile. “Well, it won’t seem so homey when the rain starts falling into the kitchen or the septic tank backs up.” Ty stood and stepped away from his desk. “Tell you what. If you can honestly help take the responsibility of fund-raising off my shoulders, I’ll spend the extra time fixing up that old cottage.”

      “You wouldn’t hire it done? I mean, you’d do it yourself…with real hammers and tools and stuff? Don’t you have other businesses to run?”

      He really chuckled this time and moved to the credenza. “Yes, I’d do it with real tools and stuff. Most of my other ventures run quite well without me now. I have excellent help. I only need to check up on them occasionally. That’s why I’ve had the time to devote to getting this charitable foundation up and running.”

      Hesitating, he picked up a stack of pre-opened letters before he continued. “Fixing up old properties for resale was the way I made my first million. And I still like to be pretty hands-on when it comes to residential real estate. It relaxes me. Besides, I promised my aunt I’d help.”

      Ty frowned down at the letters in his hand. “But as good as I am with tools and stuff, I’m absolutely terrible at acknowledging donations.”

      He looked up then, staring at her as if trying to judge her capabilities. “The Lost Children Foundation is one of the most important things in my life, Merri. I’ve made more money in real estate and oil than fifty people could spend over a lifetime, but it will all be a waste if I can’t make a difference in abused or exploited children’s lives.”

      She saw the honesty shining in his eyes, and suddenly noticed something else that looked a lot like pain buried deep within them, too. And her heart skipped another beat.

      “Your foundation has already saved children…made a difference,” she said softly. “Mr. Jarvis, your attorney, explained it all when he hired me. What you’ve done, all that you’ve built for children. It’s quite impressive.”

      Ty continued to stare at her for a moment, then nodded once and shoved the thick stack of letters into her hands. “Yes, well… Frank Jarvis told me you had some experience in nonprofit development. I hope that means you know how to send out thank-you letters, because a few of these donation letters date from six months ago.”

      “Donors don’t feel appreciated when their generosity isn’t acknowledged,” she said with a disdainful frown. “How did you manage to fall so far behind?”

      The smile that spread across his face this time was a wry one. “You aren’t the first person I’ve hired to fill this position.”

      He raised an eyebrow and sighed in a self-deprecating way. “You’re the fourth…no fifth…young woman who has agreed to be my assistant. I was hoping one of them would eventually work into the Director of Development position I’ve been wanting to create. And take the burden of the everyday administration off my shoulders.

      “Unfortunately, none of them lasted more than a few weeks—as you can probably tell by the state of things around here.”

      “But why didn’t they last? The pay is fair and these offices are really plush. What made them all quit so fast?”

      He started to shrug a shoulder but stopped midway and scowled. “I thought it was because this town is so out of the way and…backward. I mean, the nearest fashion mall is a three-hour drive away.”

      Running a hand through his hair, Ty looked as if he was frustrated and confused. “But the last woman left screaming something about never again being taken in by such a handsome ogre. I guess that means she thought I was something I’m not. Or maybe the job was more than she bargained for.

      “I don’t know for sure,” he added, finishing his shrug. “But I have always tried to be completely honest with everyone, and I expect that in return.”

      Ty turned to retrieve his cowboy hat from its hanger on the wall behind the door. “I have an appointment now with my attorney and a new donor. I’ll be back in a few hours to check up on you and see that you get a lunch break.”

      Honest. He would have had to say something like that. “Take your time,” she gulped. “I have plenty to do and I’ll be fine.”

      He walked out with a quick nod but his words had made Merri nervous. She had to lie to him, to everyone, if she wanted to keep her freedom and her hard-won reality.

      Two

      There was a lot more to the unusual assistant than her outward appearance. Ty felt it in his gut. As he drove his Jeep down the block toward his attorney’s office, he went over what was bothering him about Merri.

      It had seemed miraculous that he’d come back from New Orleans, discouraged at not being able to locate a new assistant, only to find that his attorney, Frank, had hired one right out of the blue.

      And what an assistant this one was. All the other women—and it had always been women—who’d accepted the position had been stunning beauties with little knowledge of charitable organizations.

      He’d wondered about that each time. In the first place, why would any single woman want to relocate to tiny out-of-the-way Stanville, Texas, and dedicate her life to helping a children’s charity? It hadn’t made any sense, even though he’d always hoped they would stay.

      But this woman was…different from the others. Merri was businesslike and professional-looking, with her black pantsuit and sensible, low-heeled pumps. And she seemed genuinely interested in living in this two-bit town.

      Stanville was his home. He loved it here and was truly grateful that he could leave the big cities behind, except for short visits, and come back to settle in the one place that had always felt welcoming. Ty had enough money to live wherever he wanted. And he wanted to be here.

      But he still couldn’t get his head around why a nice young woman would want to bury herself here.

      His thoughts went back to his new assistant. Her skin was fair and creamy, and she looked like she should be a natural blonde. But instead of highlighting whatever she had been born with, the hair that she’d pulled up in a tiny bun on the top of her head was dull and the color of an unattractive wood table. Brown. Just brown.

      He’d never met any woman that seemed so unconcerned with her appearance. She didn’t wear any makeup or jewelry, which shouldn’t have seemed so out of place, but on her it did. She was tall and her body appeared to be as skinny as a toothpick. Though it was hard to really judge what her body looked like under the heavy suit jacket and pants.

      It was her eyes that had most captured his attention. Hidden behind inch-thick, black-rimmed glasses, those deep-set windows to her soul were an incredible shade of green. They sparked as she controlled


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