because she knew he’d figured out her game?
“Please, Parker, I’m sorry if I took things too far.”
Disgust roiled through him. Did she really think he’d come in here and force her into having sex?
The sheet fell from her trembling hands, the moonlight revealing that she wore something tiny and strappy, like a tank T-shirt. Something easily lifted and removed.
Against everything he called control, his body responded. He was, after all, a man.
But not a stupid man. There was nothing to be gained by accusing her like this. He may have just leaped to one wild conclusion.
Swallowing hard, he gripped the doorknob. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
In the dim light, he could see that she very much doubted that was the truth. “I’m fine.” She brushed a hair off her face. “Are you?”
The fact that she asked hit him somewhere deep, somewhere he’d rather not be hit by a woman he no longer trusted.
“Yeah. Good night.” He closed the door and stared at it for a long minute.
He was probably right, and she was the spy. And if she was, then two could play this game. Now that he knew who his spy was, it was just a matter of feeding her misinformation. And if she really wanted to do her job for the Jefferies brothers well, she would probably have to get close to the CEO of Garrison, Inc.
Very close.
Parker Garrison may have been played for a fool by her this evening. But it wouldn’t happen again. Next time, he’d get everything he wanted. Everything.
And he wanted Anna. If he could crush Jordan and Emilio Jefferies in the process, all the better. But he could never let her know that he’d figured her out. In fact, the first thing he needed to do was let her wonder where she stood.
Anna Cross would find out the hard way not to play chess with a master.
Somehow, Anna made it through to Monday morning, but the magic of Saturday night seemed as far away as London when she tucked her handbag into her desk drawer and turned on the computer for the day.
“I didn’t expect to see you here today.” The receptionist appeared from the tiny galley kitchen that the Garrison executives shared, an empty coffeepot in hand.
“Of course I’m here,” Anna said.
“Thought you might make a week of it across the pond.” Sheila added a British accent to the last three words, and tempered the tease with a wink. “There were a few early calls this morning. The editor from Luxury Travel magazine called about the layout he’s doing.”
“Okay,” Anna said, jotting a note. “Anything else?”
“The secretary at the charter-jet company called this morning to make sure Mr. Garrison and Ms. Cross had a pleasurable trip.” Her voice was rich with implication and accusation. “So. Did you?”
“You can let them know that it was fine, thank you.”
“You’re holding out on me.” Sheila laughed lightly. “Come on, spill the beans. Is he as demanding in bed as he is in the office?”
Anna managed a very disgusted glare, even though the memory of the moment he’d walked into her bedroom was still vivid. He could have demanded, and she might not have fought him. But he hadn’t. And she’d barely slept once he’d backed out of the door, leaving her absolutely aching for more.
“Sorry to disappoint, Sheila. It was all business.” Unfortunately. Fortunately. Oh, God, she was so confused.
“Oh, so it’s like that, huh?” She beckoned Anna with the coffeepot and a very sympathetic smile. “Come here while I brew the mud. You look like you could use a friend.”
Was it that obvious? Parker’s distant coolness on the flight home had been a double-edged sword. It cut her because he was so icy, but it relieved her to know she could go back to work and a few steamy kisses had caused no real harm.
Obviously, he’d had a chance to think over the recriminations of an office affair and had decided she was too good an assistant to lose.
Or maybe he didn’t want her.
The thought made her stomach squeeze with a sense of disappointment she had no right to feel. But he’d left her so confused. He’d hardly said six words to her on the flight, and three were See you tomorrow.
“Ever get involved with your boss before, Anna?” Sheila’s question yanked her back to the present.
“No,” she answered honestly. The boss’s biggest rival, yes. And hadn’t that turned out great? “It would be beyond dumb,” she added.
Sheila rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. I used to be a Playmate, did you know that?”
The entire company knew Sheila had worked as a bunny at the now-defunct Miami Beach Playboy Club. “I’ve heard that.”
“Got all tight with one of the managers in the operation.”
Anna wasn’t entirely sure she wanted this much information, but couldn’t help asking, “What happened?”
“What always happens,” Sheila said with a world-weary exhale. “He got laid and I got canned.”
“Oh.”
Sheila nodded knowingly. “But, hey, it was fun while it lasted. That guy could…” She shook her head while she measured the coffee. “Let’s just say he taught me some tricks that every girl should know.”
“Would answering the phone be one of them?” Parker’s voice was thick with sarcasm, eliciting a tiny gasp of surprise from Anna and a snort from Sheila. “Because my line just bounced from the main switchboard to voice mail after ringing about fifteen times.”
Anna blinked at his tone. “Sorry, Mr. Garrison.” She looked him directly in the eye as she passed through the narrow doorway and managed not to brush one fiber of his thousand-dollar suit. “I’ll get your phone.” She added some steel in her voice as she hustled toward her desk just as the next line rang.
“Mr. Garrison’s office.” His name rolled off her tongue, flipping her stomach as the sight of him had done. This was why people shouldn’t get involved at work. Forget what happened to her in the past. She couldn’t even say his name without causing a mental meltdown.
“Hello.” The voice on the phone was low, rich, female and unfamiliar. “I want Parker Garrison.”
Get in line, Anna thought wryly. “May I tell him who is calling?”
“This is Cassie Sinclair Garrison, returning his call.”
Anna corralled her scattered thoughts. Cassie Sinclair… Garrison? She was using the name now? That would put Parker in a fine… finer mood. She turned just in time to see him heading into his office.
“Mr.—” She blew out a half breath. What did she call him now? Every time she said Mr. Garrison, they’d both think of his “warning” kisses. At least, she would.
“Who is it, Anna?” he asked, pausing at his door.
“Cassie Sinclair.” No need to have him fume at her because his illegitimate half sibling was using her father’s name. Let him find out on his own.
The color drained slightly from his sculpted cheekbones. “I’ll take that call.” He disappeared into his office, and closed the door with a definitive click, making her feel as shut out as he had on the plane when he’d slept or read the entire flight.
Behind her, Anna got a whiff of Sheila’s spicy perfume.
“Not that it’s any of my concern,” she said, hitching a lazy hip against the arm of the guest chair. “But my experience tells me if you