Words rushed to Ziara’s lips in her own defense, but she held them back. They would sound like token protests. Besides, hadn’t she been tempted? Like Eve by the snake.
“Thank you for your concern,” she murmured.
“Ziara, why didn’t you contact me about this trip? Why didn’t you keep me informed as I instructed?”
Because my phone was resting a little too close to your stepson’s privates for me to comfortably make a phone call.
She could have made the phone call after getting to the hotel, but by that time she’d convinced herself that Monday was soon enough to let Vivian know.
Oh, wouldn’t that go over well? She decided on a half-truth. “By the time I realized we were going, it was too late to call. I mistakenly thought I could inform you of everything when I returned.”
Maybe her growing attraction for Sloan was corroding the responsible part of her brain, but she just hadn’t been able to call without his consent. Her mind had justified the need for more information, more...something.
Now she had more of the facts, and she was starting to see Sloan’s point of view. Scary, but holding back seemed to be the right plan. For now. Besides, Vivian would faint dead away if she knew who Sloan was here to see.
“I’m truly sorry, Vivian.” She used her most placating tone, the one reserved for unhappy clients. “I had to rush to be ready for an early flight Saturday morning.”
There wasn’t any need to tell her Sloan had come to her house. Vivian would find that move totally unprofessional.
“I see. That does sound like a stunt he would pull. We all know he wants me kept in the dark as long as possible.”
Thankfully, that statement was totally true.
“Well, on a personal level, let me warn you, if I may.” Vivian’s tone didn’t sound like a gentle warning. More like a harsh command. “Be careful. You don’t want to end up like all the rest of Sloan’s assistants, now do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“He has a history of going through them like Kleenex. Oh, he says the feelings, the misconceptions are all their faults. But I know that they are drawn in by his charm, and when he’s used them, he discards them with little thought.”
Aren’t you glad that attitude didn’t run in the family? Ziara knew the thought was petty, but Vivian’s comments disturbed her on many levels. She didn’t want to believe, but then again, what if Vivian spoke the truth? Didn’t Sloan flirt and tease her? Hadn’t he just taken her to a lingerie store?
Ziara’s goal for her entire adult life had been an honorable career. She wanted an employer who respected her for who she was, what she was capable of, not a series of dirty, no-meaning encounters that would put her back in the ugliness of her childhood. Especially if she did it with her boss.
“I promise to keep that in mind.”
“Good. I’m only trying to look out for you,” Vivian said in an overly sweet tone. “As your mentor, and someone who knows Sloan very well, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“I understand, Vivian.”
Even as she spoke, Ziara could feel guilt creeping in. Vivian had done so much for her. Her loyalties toward the woman who had nurtured her career and Eternity Designs were being ripped apart, piece by piece, by her growing attraction to Sloan, reinforcing the doubt Vivian planted in her mind.
“Now,” Vivian’s voice intruded, “I assume you’ve gone to Las Vegas to court a designer, though why he’d be there I have no clue. And why we need one is lost on me.”
Yet another topic fraught with minefields. “Yes, Sloan is looking into a designer here, but I don’t think anything definitive has been decided.”
“Hmm, does he look any good? What do you think of his work?”
Well, if you are into tassels and sequins... “Actually I haven’t had the chance to see any of his work yet,” she said, hiding behind another little lie. Because if Vivian knew Sloan wanted a costume designer, she’d be on the first plane headed anywhere near Las Vegas. Ziara wasn’t ready for that—yet. “I’ve only briefly met him. I think Sloan is hoping for a more formal meeting tonight.”
She could hear the tap, tap, tap of Vivian’s gold pen against her desk. That habit always indicated she was thinking hard.
“Well, I guess it wouldn’t do any good to tell him I called. Is there anything else you think I need to know?”
Ziara’s stomach tightened. Her legs went shaky. This was a big step, putting her own career on the line. But some small niggle in the pit of her stomach said Sloan might be on to something with this lingerie idea. He certainly wasn’t going to get a lot of cooperation from Robert. She had to know for sure before she could decide where her company loyalty lay.
“No. Right now there’s nothing more to tell.”
Another tension-filled pause. Did Vivian suspect she knew more than she was letting on? “Very well. Keep me informed.”
Ziara stifled a sigh and said simply, “Yes, ma’am.”
After disconnecting, Ziara sank to the bed, her wobbly knees no longer able to support her traitorous stand.
Had she just made an irrevocable decision based on her physical response to the wrong man, a man who could never be more than her boss, instead of practical career considerations? She hoped not, because if Vivian learned she’d hid something so important from her, her career with Eternity Designs would be over.
Was making the fall line a success more important than her own need for security? The answers weren’t so clear-cut anymore—no matter who ended up controlling the company. Hopefully, Vivian would never know at what point Ziara discovered the truth.
Like any dangerous pilgrimage, moving forward was the only option. She had to see where Sloan was heading with what she now knew were two new lines. Rising to her feet, she straightened her clothes, then turned toward the door, all thoughts of a nap now abolished from her mind.
Sloan stood in the doorway.
Ziara froze, absorbing his powerful presence, though he leaned casually against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. His face had softened into a slight smile, but his eyes tracked her every move.
The contrast threw her off once more. On the outside he appeared approachable, carefree and happy, but those intense blue eyes alerted her to the hunter within. Pushing away from the frame, he stalked toward her, the tired lines on his face becoming faintly visible. This quest was wearing on him, as well. Her fingers itched to trace the weariness with her fingertips, soothing it away like she would a wrinkle out of fabric, but she forced her hands to remain still.
Stopping so close that a deep breath would bring his chest into contact with hers, he slid his hands into her hair and covered her lips with his own.
Ziara’s widened eyes closed as the explosion of sensation from her lips connected with the feel of his hands in the tumble of her hair. He kneaded her scalp as if to massage away the tension hiding there, and she melted into his embrace. Reason and logic disappeared. He could do whatever he wanted. Just don’t stop touching me.
Never one to do things by half measures, Sloan’s tongue plunged through her parted lips, sweeping across her own, igniting a flash of longing through her body. Long after the last of her intelligence had leaked from her brain, he pulled back a fraction. His hands remained anchored in her hair, his minty breath fanning across her face.
Forcing her heavy lids upward, her eyes met his. “What was that for?” she asked, embarrassed by the husky whisper of her voice.
His hands tightened against her head for a moment as if to draw her forward for another kiss but, instead, he spoke. “For keeping my secrets.”