his desk stopped her, her eyes riveted to his. Maybe he was going to make a declaration!
His chin lifted then, and it was anger that glinted in his dark eyes, not possessiveness. “Listen,” he said curtly, “Grey Myers has had three wives. He currently has at least one mistress. He’s forgotten more than you’ve had time to learn. I don’t want you to learn that kind of lesson with a professional Romeo.”
“I’m going to learn it with someone eventually,” she said, swallowing hard. Her body felt odd, taut and tingling all at once, because his was close enough that she could feel its warm strength.
“I know that,” he said impatiently, and his face hardened. “But I’d just as soon you didn’t join a queue. Myers is no serious suitor. He’s a playboy with a smooth manner, and he’d have you screaming for help five minutes after you were alone with him.”
So that was it. More big-brother responsibility. He wasn’t jealous, he was upset because his protective instincts had been aroused. She stared at the steady rise and fall of his chest in dull acceptance. Stupid me, she thought miserably, wishing for a star again.
“I wasn’t trying to lead him on,” she said finally. “I just smiled at him, like I smile at everyone—even you. I guess he thought I was sending out smoke signals, but I wasn’t, honestly.”
His face relaxed. “No harm done.” And then he moved. One long, powerful arm slid behind her, bringing his lips within an inch of hers. She almost moaned at the minty warmth of his breath on her mouth. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, curiously tracing every hard line of the thin upper lip and the more chiseled lower one. Her heart throbbed. Her breath seemed to stop altogether, and for one long instant she felt the full weight of his chest against her soft breasts in a contact that was shocking. She looked up at him with wide, stunned eyes.
Then he moved back, the hat he’d been reaching for in one hand, his eyes frankly amused at the look on her face. So she’d never thought of him that way, had she? It irritated him to think that she didn’t feel the new and very unwelcome attraction he was discovering for her. It was just as well that he had a business function tonight; it would keep his overimaginative brain away from Abby.
“Were you expecting something?” he asked coldly. “I just wanted my hat.” He watched a shadow pass across her eyes before she mumbled something and lowered her gaze. He put his Stetson on his thick blonde-streaked hair and tilted it over one eye. “I hired you to work here, not to send out signals, intentional or otherwise, to clients.”
“I hate you,” she said suddenly, sick of his accusations and his hateful remarks.
“Sure you do. What else is new?” He tapped her chin with a long finger. “Get busy.”
While she was still struggling with her composure he opened the door and went out without a backward glance.
Abby hardly got anything done for the next hour. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so turned around, so confused. She was sure she hated Calhoun, but in an hour he’d be back, smiling, and then she’d forgive him. That was what made her so miserable, the knowledge that he could commit murder and she’d still love him. Damn this hateful attraction!
She took a half-hour break and went to the canteen and had a sandwich that she didn’t taste. She was barely back at her desk when Mr. Myers returned—with Justin instead of Calhoun.
She handed the progress reports to Justin, who herded Mr. Myers into his brother’s office, kept him there a scant ten minutes and then herded him out again. Abby kept her head down and didn’t even say hello. That was just as well, because Mr. Myers didn’t look in her direction.
Justin gave Abby a curious look afterward. “That’s unusual,” he remarked. “Calhoun called me out of a board meeting to have lunch and talk over that contract with Myers. Then he waltzed off and left me there. What’s going on?”
Abby cleared her throat. “Why, Justin, I have no idea,” she said, even managing a smile. Justin lifted an eyebrow, shrugged and went back into Calhoun’s office without another word. Abby stared after him, curious herself about Calhoun’s behavior. Then it occurred to her that maybe he just didn’t like Greg Myers, which led to the unpalatable thought that perhaps they’d fallen out over a woman. Maybe one of Myers’s mistresses…She turned back to her typewriter. She hated even thinking about that side of Calhoun’s life.
Justin was quiet for the rest of the afternoon, but he had plenty to say when Calhoun came in just before quitting time. The door was half-open, and Abby, who was the last of the office group to leave, got an earful as she was straightening up her desk.
“This has got to stop,” Justin was telling his brother. “One of the office girls told me that Myers got friendly with Abby just before you cleared out. It’s gotten to the point that Abby can’t even smile at a man without having you come down on her head like Judgment. She’s almost twenty-one. It isn’t fair to expect her to live like a recluse.”
“I wasn’t,” Calhoun said curtly. “I just warned her off him. My God, you know his reputation!”
“Abby’s no fool,” came the reply. “She’s a levelheaded person.”
“Sure, she’s proved that,” Calhoun said with biting sarcasm. “Going to a strip show—”
“It was not!” Abby called through the open door. “It was a male variety show.”
“My God, she’s standing out there listening!” Calhoun jerked the door all the way open, glaring at her. “Stop eavesdropping! It isn’t polite!”
“Stop talking about me behind my back, then,” she returned, picking up her purse. “I wouldn’t have gone out with a man like Grey Myers even to spite you, Calhoun. I know a line when I hear one.”
Calhoun glared at her. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea, your working here.”
Her eyebrows went up. “Really? Why?”
“The place is full of men,” Calhoun muttered, and Justin had to smother a grin.
Abby lifted her eyebrows and smiled. “Why, so it is,” she gushed. “Lovely, unshaven men who smell of cattle and cow chips. Sooo romantic,” she sighed.
Justin had turned away. Calhoun’s dark eyes were glittering.
“Myers didn’t smell of cow chips,” he reminded her.
She arched her eyebrows at him. “How interesting that you noticed,” she said in a theatrical whisper.
He looked as if he might throw something at her. “Will you cut that out?” he muttered.
She sighed. “Suit yourself. I was just trying to help. God forbid that I should be seduced by some strange, sweet-smelling man.”
“Go home!” Calhoun roared.
“My, my, what a nasty temper we’re in,” she said demurely. She reached for her purse, glancing back at him. “I’ll have Maria make you a nice bowl of razor-blade soup, just to keep your tongue sharp.”
“I won’t be home for supper, thank God,” Calhoun said coldly. “I’ve got a date,” he added, for no other reason than to irritate her. He didn’t like the idea of her knowing how much Myers’s flirting had upset him. He didn’t want her to know that he’d been so violently jealous that he couldn’t even trust himself to have lunch with the man and had had to call Justin to intervene.
But Abby didn’t know that, and she was sure that it was just Calhoun being overprotective as usual. It hurt her to hear about where he was going. Abby felt as if she were being choked to death. If only she were beautiful and blond, if only she could cope! But she managed to hide her emptiness. “That’s great, Calhoun, you just enjoy yourself while I sit home alone. I’ll never get a date as long as you’re two steps behind me.”
“Dream on,” Calhoun told her. “Hell will freeze over before you’d go out with