A.C. Arthur

Surrender to a Donovan


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      “I have never been in love with a woman,” he told her and wondered what it was about her that made it so easy to be honest.

      She nodded as if that was the answer she’d expected. “It’s an adventure, I’ll tell you that,” she said lightly.

      Her eyes said something totally different. The deep depths said it was also painful. Whoever she’d been in love with had hurt her, badly. That thought made Sean angry.

      “Would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked. Her eyes widened as if she thought the question was sudden or surprising. Sean didn’t think it was either. Whatever he did or said came after much thought on his part. He’d been thinking about this woman since first seeing her yesterday afternoon. For Sean, that meant something.

      “Ah, no,” she began after a few seconds of blinking and staring at him in awe. “I don’t think that would be appropriate, considering we work together.”

      He smiled. “You’re not going to get into trouble. I’m the boss, remember?”

      Her smile came easily, and deep dimples in both her cheeks twinkled at him. “That’s precisely why I said dinner would be inappropriate.”

      He could do nothing but nod. Her response was logical and most likely one he would have used himself if a female at the office had come on to him. But this was different. He didn’t know why specifically, he just knew that it was.

      She was looking at her watch when he thought to say something else in response, so he said instead, “Am I keeping you from another engagement? Another dinner date perhaps?”

      It hadn’t been established whether she was involved with someone. He wanted to know the answer, but then again he didn’t.

      “I need to pick my daughter up from day care,” was her reply.

      Her daughter, right. He’d forgotten she had a child. “Then let’s go,” he said, standing from his desk and retrieving his suit jacket from the back of his chair. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

      She looked as if she were going to argue, then she stopped with a shrug and left the office.

      * * *

      The parking garage was accessed by taking an elevator to the lobby floor of the building and using an enclosed walkway. Tate always parked on the highest floor, afraid that the lower ones weren’t as protected from theft. Sean rode the elevator up to level four with her in silence, silence for which she was grateful.

      There was so much going through her mind at the moment. His offer of a television show, his interest in her work, and, of course, him asking her out to dinner. Where had that come from? She had no clue. Before yesterday, she’d never seen this man in person. She’d heard of him and his family, of course, but she would have never guessed he’d heard of her in any capacity. Yes, her immediate supervisor seemed pleased with her work, and she’d assumed the growing number of letters signaled she was doing a good job. But she could never have imagined anything to the extent of this type of promotion. Get a grip, she told herself. Her life was a perfect example of how all good things did not necessarily have a positive outcome.

      “My car’s this way,” she said when they stepped off the elevator.

      Her voice echoed in the enclosed space, and she quickly closed her mouth. On the cement floor her heels clicked. Beside her Sean held what she thought were his own car keys. His brown suit hung over long, muscled limbs, and an intoxicating manly cologne tickled her nostrils. A better-looking specimen she had yet to see up close and personal, and a small part of her treasured the moment—even if it was a totally professional one.

      “Nice car,” Sean said as they approached her midnight-blue Volvo.

      She almost said she’d won it in the divorce settlement but figured that little tidbit of information was better kept a secret. “I like reliability,” she said.

      He nodded. “I can relate to that. Where does your daughter go to day care?”

      Retrieving her own set of keys, Tate initiated the automatic door locks and reached for the handle. “Little Darlings Day Care. It’s on Biscayne.”

      She leaned into the car to place her purse and bag inside when she glimpsed the passenger-side window. “Damn it!” she cursed before remembering she wasn’t alone. Then on impulse she tried to right herself and banged her head on the interior roof of the car.

      “Are you all right?” she could hear Sean asking from behind as his hands went to her hips.

      She backed out of the car with Sean’s assistance. Her hand went to her now throbbing head. “Sorry. Yes, I’m fine. But my window is broken.”

      “What window?”

      She used her thumb to point toward the other side of her car as she started walking in that direction. Sean followed her and was once more privy to her cursing when she noted the back passenger window was also broken.

      “Great. Just great,” she said, stepping on shattered glass.

      Sean had pulled his cell phone from his pocket and was already talking to someone. Tate was lifting a hand to the door handle when she felt his strong fingers at her wrist.

      “Don’t touch anything else. If it was a break-in, the police will need to dust for prints,” he told her.

      “A break-in. Right,” she said. With a clutch in her chest, she leaned forward to look through the broken window.

      Her gasp made Sean move in closer. “What’s wrong?”

      With a hand to her throat, Tate said, “Briana’s car seat is gone. Who would break into a car to steal a baby’s car seat?”

      “Come on,” Sean said, moving her away from the car. “Let’s stand over here and wait for the police.”

      The police arrived in minutes and did what they called “processing the scene.” They took pictures and did something that would lift prints. Questions were fired at her left and right. “What’s missing?” “What time do you get to work?” “Do you get here the same time every day?” “Park in the same spot?” On and on and on it went until she wanted to scream.

      She still needed to pick up Briana, and now her only mode of transportation was being detained. Sean insisted on having the windows fixed, and since she didn’t have the extra five hundred dollars—which was her insurance deductible—Tate didn’t refuse his offer. It was when he offered to take her to get Briana that she tensed a bit more.

      “That’s not necessary. I can take a cab,” she told him.

      He was already shaking his head. “You’re not taking a cab all the way down to Biscayne and then back to your house,” he said adamantly. “I’m having the car towed the minute the cops are finished. The windows should be fixed by tomorrow afternoon.”

      “It’s not a big deal. I can take a cab tonight and then again in the morning to get to work,” she said, afraid to calculate the cost of doing both. Infinity paid her a decent salary for a writer, but that salary had to stretch to cover rent on her apartment and all the expenses that entailed, as well as day care and food for her and Briana. She wasn’t completely destitute, but there wasn’t a whole lot of breathing room within her budget. Still, the thought of her boss going out of his way like that just didn’t feel right to her.

      “You’re not taking a cab, and that’s final,” he said in a tone that was supposed to emphasize his words.

      It did, to an extent. Tate figured it was rude to continue to turn down his generosity, and that surely wouldn’t bode well as far as her new promotion. So she let the officers get her purse and bag out of the car as she stood across the garage waiting. When they were done and the tow truck had arrived, Sean gave the driver his business card and told him to have the auto-glass shop call him first thing tomorrow morning. She didn’t bristle too much—after all, the garage was a part of the building owned by the Donovans.