Kitabı oku: «At The Playboy's Command», sayfa 5

Seven

The moment Elizabeth knew that Daniel wasn’t on the next flight out of Royal, she was at once elated and strangely unsettled.

Her first thought was that they could share again what they had today. She’d never experienced anything like the sensations he’d stoked and coaxed from her this morning. Making love with Daniel had been an all-consuming, unprecedented lesson in mounting pleasure and rolling release. Mind, body and spirit seemed to meld until she’d felt as if she were one-half of a wondrous whole.

But as Daniel kissed her a final time then headed for the attached bath, Elizabeth bunched the sheet up under her chin and told herself to keep her head. Yes, the sex had been outstanding. Powerful. In some ways, humbling. So many would go through life without appreciating the true meaning of the phrase “making love.”

But that didn’t mean Daniel felt as deeply about this morning’s interaction as she did. She had no cause to think he’d told Abigail he’d stay for any reason other than the fact he wasn’t ready to give up on that project. She was thankful for Abigail’s sake, and for the sake of the inevitable future of the club … if Daniel came up with a design that captured the members’ hearts and helped Abigail’s push to become the establishment’s first female president. The old guard would have a blue fit.

But the Texas Cattleman’s Club was due for change. The club’s creed—Leadership, Justice and Peace—surely applied to good women as well as good men.

Angling her legs out from beneath the covers, Elizabeth wiggled her toes into the carpet and, looking toward the bathroom door, she wondered if she ought to get dressed before Daniel returned. Probably best, she decided, collecting her shoes and padding out to the main room. She wouldn’t have him think she wanted more of his time than she’d already taken.

She moved into the main room, slipped on her lingerie, her dress, jacket and finally those magic heels. And then her attention slid toward the main door and a prickle of unreality bubbled up. She didn’t regret coming here, but now that she was dressed and had been left alone to wait, she found it difficult to believe that she’d actually gathered up her courage to ride that elevator up to Daniel’s suite without an invitation in the first place.

Some might say she’d been reckless. Perhaps that was true. But, by God, it’d felt good to do precisely what she’d wanted, when she’d wanted to. She was more like Daniel than he knew.

“Was it something I said?”

At the sound of that deep, sexy voice at her back, Elizabeth spun around. Daniel stood in the doorway leading to the bedroom, a white towel lashed around his hips. A flurry of butterflies released in her stomach as she scanned the expanse of his broad chest, the muscular definition of powerful arms and super-toned abs. Her mind wound back to the way he’d held her as he’d brought them both to the brink then had flung them both over that fiery edge. She remembered the delicious thrills that had spiraled through her and, drinking in the glorious picture of him now, she only wanted to do it again.

Some men were born lovers.

His shoulder pushed off the jamb and he sauntered toward her. With every step, that pulse low inside of her beat a little deeper and each breath came a little quicker.

“You’re leaving?” A line creased between his eyebrows.

With him close again, the magnet that had drawn them so fiercely together earlier began to tug again. But, although the idea was tempting, they couldn’t spend all day in bed.

Could they?

Forcing her eyes from his penetrating gaze, she moved to collect her handbag where she’d dropped it in the center of the room an hour earlier.

“I should be getting on my way,” she told him breezily. “You have work to do.”

“Nothing that can’t wait until we’ve enjoyed an early lunch. After just coffee this morning, I’m starved.”

A saucy smile swam in his eyes as he brought her near and nuzzled the side of her neck. A jet of warmth rushed through her veins. She was helpless not to sigh and lean in more.

“Are you sure?” she murmured as his mouth traced a sensual line up to her chin.

“One hundred percent,” he growled.

“You’re not keen to start on your drawings?”

He tipped back to look at her sideways. “Anyone would think you’re trying of get rid of me.”

She laughed. Ridiculous. “I just wasn’t expecting you to stay.”

“You have somewhere else to be?”

“Not especially. Although I was going to drop by Chad’s office and organize a donation so those flamingos can be on their way. I shouldn’t be greedy. Someone else ought to enjoy the privilege for a while.”

“Chad?” Daniel adjusted his towel. “The financial advisor who likes to keep you on his leash, that Chad?”

Her jaw set. “I explained to you—”

“Yeah. I know. He likes to look out for you.”

“There’s a clause in the will that dictates Chad must be my financial advisor.”

“That document sure likes to dictate.”

She didn’t like—and didn’t have to endure—the irritation darkening his face.

She collected her bag and, straightening the strap over her shoulder, she nodded toward the door. “I should go.”

When she tried to skirt around him, however, Daniel reached out and caught her wrist. The disapproval burning in his eyes had turned to apology.

“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get into that again.”

“That’s okay. I understand.”

And she did. But it was really time she left. She didn’t want to regret this time and if she stayed any longer she had a feeling that she might.

Five minutes later Elizabeth stepped out of the elevator and into the hotel foyer. Although she was seen in town, in this hotel, often, she kept her head down. She didn’t want to field any innocent questions about what had brought her here today.

She nodded to a stranger, sitting in a tub chair, who looked up from his newspaper and smiled. Stepping up her pace, she’d made it to the door when she ran into the one person she wasn’t prepared to face.

“Elizabeth? What brings you in here today?”

“Chad.” She tried to catch her breath and will the heat from seeping any higher up her neck. On a nervous laugh, she wet her lips and stammered some words. “I could ask the same.”

“I’m here to see a client.”

Now he was looking at her oddly, trying to see past the overly cheery facade.

“I was meeting a friend for lunch.”

His salt-and-pepper eyebrows nudged in. “It’s not even eleven.”

“Thought I’d book early. You know how I like particular tables.”

“Who are you meeting?”

She coughed out a short laugh. “Would you like me to hand over my appointment book?”

His eyes glinted with concern. “Elizabeth, you look shaken.”

Now her face was burning. She fanned herself.

“I do feel a little piqued.”

Moving to stand beside her, he rested a hand on her back. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”

“I’ll be fine.”

But he was already leading her to a comfortable settee and signaling to the concierge.

Then the situation got a thousand times worse.

Daniel stepped out of the elevator, his mind racing.

He’d rung to tell Rand that while he and the crew were free to leave today, the boss was staying. He was on his way now to the Cattleman’s Club to see if he couldn’t get some creative juices flowing. Somewhere the perfect idea was dying to bubble up, waiting only for the right inspiration to have it fully emerge. Thankfully, now that he’d made up his

mind to step back up and face the challenge, his enthusiasm barometer had cranked up to high.

That he’d had the best sexual experience of his life this morning no doubt contributed to the energy belting through his blood. Perhaps not surprisingly, images of Elizabeth and possible club designs were converging on one another in his brain. Despite the diminished note on which she’d left, he couldn’t ignore the truth. He wanted to see her again. Asking to view her house a second time would be a good excuse. But would she want to see him again? After his dig about the will, she’d practically burned rubber leaving when she had.

Daniel was striding across the long stretch of carpet when a flash of pink caught his eye and he pulled up sharply. A rush of disbelief falling through his center, he looked harder. Elizabeth had had plenty of time to leave the hotel. He wouldn’t have minded bumping into her here now, except for her current company.

His lip curled.

Tremain.

But, given she’d already spotted him, there was nothing to do but stop and acknowledge them both. Then he realized Tremain was handing Elizabeth a glass of water and his insides clutched. Was she ill? And what was Mr. Have Finance Will Travel doing here anyway?

Her gaze on his, looking ashen and alarmed, Elizabeth got to her feet. And then, of course, Daniel knew. She wasn’t ill but taken aback, probably at running into Tremain and then again seeing the lover she’d left moments ago.

“Daniel Warren! Seems I’m stumbling into everyone here today. Chad, you remember Mr. Warren from the club.”

Tremain fairly snarled. “Yes, I remember Mr. Warren.”

Again Chad Tremain didn’t extend his hand. This time neither did Daniel. Then a shadow crossed Tremain’s face and Daniel could barely contain a grin. He wouldn’t do it to Elizabeth, but he longed to confirm what was rattling around in Tremain’s suspicious mind. Yep, she was here to see me, chum. Males of all species sensed competition at a hundred paces.

Not that Daniel was a long-term threat. He might not be flying home today but he would stay only as long as necessary. Elizabeth knew that as well as he knew her situation.

Daniel addressed Elizabeth in a formal tone. “Nice to see you again, Miss Milton.” He noted the glass and feigned a concerned look. “You’re not feeling well?”

“I was dizzy for a moment. I’m feeling much better now.”

“Can I escort you anywhere?”

“No need, Warren,” Tremain cut in. “I can look after Elizabeth’s needs.”

Daniel sent Tremain a cold look and crooked grin. “Is that right?”

Tremain looked about ready to bare his teeth when Elizabeth shoved her half-empty glass at his chest.

“Would you refill this for me, please, Chad? I’m feeling flushed again.”

Tremain’s stony gaze gradually left Daniel’s to study Elizabeth’s innocent smile. He took the glass. “Certainly.”

Daniel waited until Tremain was out of earshot. “Awkward moment?”

Cutting a nervous glance around, Elizabeth tugged and straightened her jacket’s hem. In a hoarse whisper, she told him, “There’s no need for Chad to know what happened this morning.”

“I’d have no trouble informing him.”

Her eyes widened at his gravelly tone and she whispered again, sterner this time, “Don’t you dare stir up trouble.”

“On one condition.”

Striking a pose, she folded her arms. “Are you proposing blackmail?”

He wondered if he saw a touch of excitement light in her eyes.

“Nothing quite so dramatic. I’d like to visit the Milton Ranch again.”

She gaped at him for five full seconds before a smile flirted with one side of her mouth. “I’m sure Nita would love to accommodate you. I warn you, though. This time you’d better stay for dessert.”

“You can bet on it,” Daniel said.

“Can bet on what?”

Daniel flicked a glance to his left. Tremain was back. And while Daniel appreciated Elizabeth’s position with regard to privacy, he wasn’t about to hide behind corners like a kid. Elizabeth was woman enough for Tremain to hear at least part of the truth.

“I invited myself over to Milton Ranch for supper.”

Gaze firing, Tremain actually squared up. “Rather presumptuous of you, isn’t it, Warren?”

Daniel shrugged. “We Northerners are known for it.”

Chad’s shoulders went back at the same time Elizabeth stepped between them.

“Chad, did I mention I’m desperate to get those plastic flamingos off my lawn? Could we organize a donation today?”

Tremain’s glare slid away from Daniel, who hadn’t had this much fun since he’d whipped the butt of a college rival at tennis. It felt good to win.

Tremain addressed Elizabeth. “I can organize that for you, Elizabeth, although we’ll need to discuss an amount.”

“Do you have time to sit down now?” she asked.

Tremain eyed Daniel again before extending his arm for Elizabeth. But she either didn’t see the gesture or ignored it.

Daniel grinned to himself. Suck on that, Tremain.

Before moving off, she offered her hand to Daniel. “I’ll see you this evening.”

“Let’s say, seven?”

As their hands met and squeezed, a smile twinkled in her eyes. “Seven sounds just fine.”

Daniel was tempted to watch as she moved off, but to be on his way was probably wiser. He’d riled Tremain enough for one day. He asked the doorman to have his rental brought up and soon he arrived at the Texas Cattleman’s Club.

Alighting from the vehicle, he surveyed the club’s grounds. Manicured gardens and lawn were set amid majestic sprawling plains dotted with small trees, which were bowed by prevailing southern winds. His attention veered toward the club building, grand, solid and appropriate … but also, to his taste, due for at least a good brushup.

Because of the sheer size of the state, its variations in weather and scattered patterns of settlement, Texas architecture enjoyed a diversity of styles. The clubhouse was a mixture of Victorian—red granite and timber exterior, sandstone and elaborate carved woodwork interior—and Spanish Colonial, an ancestor of the ranch-style house—thick stuccoed walls and small windows that invited in the breeze and kept out the heat. The structure conveyed a sense of strength. Endurance. And that was key.

So how to keep the heart of this club while promoting the new twenty-first-century feel Abigail and her supporters were after?

Daniel was wandering around a far corner of the building when he heard a hushed but intense conversation in progress. Male voices … the words “baby” and “blackmail.” Three men came into view, huddled together beneath a giant oak. Not wanting to intrude, he was pivoting away when one of the men glanced over then all three stopped to glare.

The nearest, a tall man with brown hair and hawkish hazel eyes, edged around to face him. “Can I help you?”

Daniel held up a friendly hand. “Just taking a stroll of the grounds. Admiring the club.” When their stares intensified, he added, “The name’s Daniel Warren.”

That same man’s eyes flashed. “Abigail’s star-chitect.”

And then it clicked and Daniel straightened his spine. “And you must be Bradford Price.”

This was the man who was running for presidency of the club and Abigail Langley’s nemesis. No wonder he was looking at Daniel as if he wanted to grab him by the collar and personally escort him off the grounds. And what was that about blackmail? Such murmurings didn’t bode well for a club whose motto was Leadership, Justice and Peace.

“I’m Abigail’s guest here, yes.” Daniel jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be on my way. Let you all get back to your conversation.”

As he rotated away, Daniel saw in Brad Price’s eyes that he wondered how much of the conversation the outsider had heard. Enough to be suspicious, that’s how much. But not enough to want to dig any further. Seemed there was a whole lot more going on in Royal than an unprecedented election.

As she and Chad took a seat in a private corner of the hotel, Elizabeth got straight to business and mentioned the amount she was more than comfortable with donating to the Helping Hands Shelter in exchange for having the flamingos removed.

Sitting back, Chad slowly shook his head. “You don’t need to donate that much.”

She frowned. “It’s a wonderful cause.” One of the best, to Elizabeth’s mind. Although she kept it quiet, she’d been helping out individual families for a while now. “That women’s shelter has helped a lot of people in need, children included. It offers a wonderful service for the community.”

“No doubt. And it’s great to have such a generous spirit. You never tire of giving. But, Elizabeth, you don’t need to go overboard.”

She eyed the man who had been directing her finances—her life—since her parents’ deaths, and a sick, empty feeling caved in around her. She’d told Daniel she wasn’t a child, but the truth was Chadwick Tremain made her feel like a minor. A mere girl with no rights. She was a twenty-five-year-old woman with a sharp mind. A mind of her own.

Chad didn’t think she needed to “go overboard.”

She clasped her hands on the table before her. “Kindly have your office transfer the amount I’ve stipulated into the shelter’s account today.”

“Elizabeth, I’m telling you in my professional opinion—”

“And I’m telling you that you are my advisor, not my keeper.”

“Your father wanted your affairs looked after.”

“I can look after my own affairs.”

“In the will—”

Her fist thumped on the wood. “I’m sick of hearing about that will!”

Chad’s head snapped back. For a moment, Elizabeth thought he might raise his voice at her. But then he skipped a glance around the room and saw that no one was near enough to notice her outburst. He smoothed the line of his royal-blue tie, the one with which he always wore his diamond pin.

She’d never liked that tie.

“I should be on my way.” She stood.

So did Chad. “I wish you wouldn’t leave like this.”

She stopped, remembered how fond her father had been of this man and pulled in a leveling breath.

“I’m not ungrateful for your help—”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

“But I don’t need your help.” When his face fell like a boy who’d been told his dog had run away, she softened the blow. “Or not as much as I may have in the past.” She thought of eighteen-year-old Daniel standing up to his parents and cutting his ties, and she lifted her chin.

“Make that transfer, please, Chad.”

As she walked out and onto Main, Elizabeth clasped her hands at her chest. Still she couldn’t stop them shaking. She’d never felt so energized. So on edge. She’d accepted her lot with regard to the ranch. Had embraced it. Why had Daniel Warren come along and turned everything upside down?

Eight

“We ‘re having a guest again tonight,” Elizabeth announced to Nita as she entered the Milton Ranch kitchen on the way through to her room.

Nita set down her chopping knife and followed Elizabeth down the main hall and up the stairs. “Anyone I know?”

Grinning, Elizabeth shrugged out of her jacket. “Yes, Nita. It’s Daniel Warren.”

“I’m glad to hear you sorted out your differences.”

In her bedroom, Elizabeth reached behind and unzipped her dress, remembering this morning when she’d arrived at his hotel suite door and found the courage to let him know how she’d felt. Now that time spent in Daniel’s arms, in his bed, seemed like some wild fantasy. A dream. She could easily believe she’d imagined the whole amazing interlude except for the tingling afterglow still warming her skin and the fact they were seeing each other again tonight. She wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. She had every intention of repeating the experience.

As far as having sorted out their differences …

“Let’s say,” Elizabeth said, slipping off her shoes, “we’ve come to an understanding.”

“Glad to hear it. I’ll let my mother know I’ll be over tomorrow instead.”

An earlier conversation flashed to mind and Elizabeth wheeled around from her set of drawers. “Nita, I completely forgot.”

Mrs. Ramirez lived in the next town. The following day was the anniversary of her husband’s death, Nita’s father. Nita liked to keep her mother company and stay overnight.

But Nita was shaking it off. “I’ll go tomorrow. I’ll be there early.”

Elizabeth dug some riding breeches from a drawer. “Don’t you dare change your plans.”

“You’re not going to cook.” Slipping a polishing rag from her pocket, Nita rubbed over the oak dresser. “You don’t want to frighten the boy off. Then again, your mother couldn’t flip an egg. Didn’t stop your dad from proposing.”

Pulling on the breeches, Elizabeth paused to give the older woman a pointed look. “Nita, I’m not marrying Daniel Warren.”

“Did I say that you were?”

Nita concentrated on polishing the same spot on the dresser while Elizabeth, shaking her head fondly, shimmied into a checked shirt then dropped onto the edge of the bed, socks in hand. She was feeling restless, to say the least. The best way to work off energy was to jump in a saddle and charge off for a long, hard ride over the plains.

Her father had taught her to ride. Even how to rope on horseback. Although he’d denied it, Elizabeth knew her dad was disappointed he hadn’t had a son, particularly when she’d begun to show more than an interest in doing her nails and face and hair. Then came her unquenchable curiosity in all things outside of the Lone Star State. Although contained now, that curiosity hadn’t waned.

Nita moved on to polishing the bed headboard. “Why don’t you take him to Claire’s?”

Finished slipping on her socks, Elizabeth pushed to her feet. “Good idea.”

Intimate atmosphere, scrumptious cuisine, Claire’s was the finest restaurant in Royal. This evening the usual Friday night regulars would be there, Chad included.

Elizabeth’s mouth twisted to one side.

Maybe she ought to reconsider defrosting some ribs and firing up the grill.

“Is there anything you need before I head off?” Nita had moved to hang Elizabeth’s jacket.

“I’ll be fine.” She dropped a kiss on Nita’s cheek and gave her arm a squeeze. “Give my best to your mom.”

“Don’t forget that dessert’s in the fridge if Daniel wants a slice.”

“Enough with the organizing.” Elizabeth playfully shepherded Nita out her door. “Go.”

As Nita moved down the hall, Elizabeth thought she heard a car. She moved to a window. No visitors but the flamingos caught her eye. Before heading out for her ride, she’d make sure Chad had organized the payment for the shelter.

She lowered into the chair set before her desk and laptop, brought up her email account and smiled. A message from Chad, brief, formal. He’d transferred the money to the shelter and for the amount she’d requested.

Elizabeth mentally punched the air.

Score one for the kid.

As she shut down the browser, the screen saver appeared, a picture of a hauntingly beautiful Scottish castle she’d visited one vacation. She wanted to see Australia next, but needed more time if she was going to see everything in one trip. She had to experience snorkeling over a coral shelf in the Great Barrier Reef. Climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge, overlooking stretched blue silk waters and the enormous sails of the Opera House, was a must. No way would she miss visiting the Red Centre, watching the sun set over massive Uluru and absorbing a masterpiece created from God’s personal palette.

And there was so much more.

The generations-old hall clock struck the first of twelve. Elizabeth blinked back to reality and held the empty feeling that suddenly invaded her stomach.

Her mother had introduced her to the travel bug when they’d suggested boarding school in Europe. Neither of her parents had traveled extensively, but her mother, particularly, had wanted her daughter to grow up with a keen sense of culture and class. Sometimes Elizabeth wondered if they should have done her a favor by keeping her sojourns confined to within Texas, or at least the States. If she’d never known what amazing experiences and sights were out there, she wouldn’t miss it so much now.

Wistful, she pushed back her chair and meandered down the hallway, down the stairs, past that clock, the media room and the library, the area which had previously been her father’s trophy room. Every nook and cranny lived, embedded in her brain, as clearly as the computer had stored that remarkable shot of Scotland. No denying, she felt comfortable here. This was home.

How would she feel, how would she cope, if she ever decided to ignore the clause in her parents’ will and simply fly away?

When Elizabeth arrived at the kitchen, tonight’s dinner with Daniel came to mind again. She wouldn’t try to cook. In France she’d taken lessons in cuisine preparation, but, frankly, while she adored the flavors and textures, whipping up fabulous dishes didn’t come easily. She truly admired people like Nita who effortlessly created mouthwatering meals.

She dialed the Royal Hotel to pass on the change of plans. When the receptionist answered, Elizabeth gave her name and asked to leave a message for Daniel Warren, but at that moment, the receptionist told her that Daniel had walked into the hotel lobby. A few knocking heartbeats later, Elizabeth heard his deep, sexy voice on the line.

“I hope you’re not going to renege on our arrangement tonight,” he said.

His tone was teasing, but also curious. Did he honestly think she’d cancel?

“Nita won’t be home tonight. And I need to be up-front and say my attempt at barbecue leaves a lot to be desired.”

“Can you suggest a place? Snails don’t need to be on the menu.”

She laughed. “We’ll save that for France.”

The sentiment was an innocent one but once it was out, a shard of panic dropped through to her toes. It sounded as if she were inviting him to Paris. With almost all of her two months vacation time this year gone, she couldn’t and wouldn’t. Although the idea certainly had its merits.

She brushed over the gaffe.

“I can recommend Claire’s. It’s an upscale place that serves delicious food.”

“I’ll make the reservation and collect you at seven. And, Elizabeth?”

“Hmm?”

“If you want me to last through dinner, show some mercy and don’t wear those heels.”

* * *

Smiling, Daniel reluctantly hung up from the sound of Elizabeth’s laughter. Crazy but he’d missed it more than he’d realized.

While he’d inspected the club earlier he’d kept his mind on the job, working through new ideas. But now that he was back in this environment, the memories of his and Elizabeth’s time spent filtered back. The scent of her, the silken heart-thumping feel. He’d been with women before—plenty. But there was something truly unique, and inspiring, about Elizabeth Milton. Something he couldn’t get enough of. That what they shared was purely “here and now” made its promise all the more appealing.

Standing at the far end of the polished timber counter, he motioned to catch the receptionist’s eye. He wanted to know if Rand had checked out yet. But it seemed the woman was engaged in what was fast becoming a heated conversation with someone else. He didn’t want to eavesdrop but he couldn’t ignore the spat, particularly when it centered on Abigail Langley and her push for the club’s presidency.

“We women have no right shoving our noses in their business,” the second woman with a helmet of light purple hair was saying.

“You’re entitled to your opinion, Addison.” The receptionist nudged her chin higher. “And I’m entitled to mine. Men don’t have dibs on leadership. Not anymore. There’s a lot of us who feel the same way.”

“You know she wants to tear down the club,” Addison said, “and start again, like suddenly that century-old building’s not worth a dime.”

The receptionist flicked an uncomfortable glance Daniel’s way and lowered her voice. “We have company. This isn’t the place.”

The other woman shifted her focus then her gaze sharpened. “You’re that architect she brought down.” Her eyes narrowed. “We don’t want your kind here. Go home.”

“Boss, everything all right?”

Taken aback, Daniel rotated to find Rand, standing at his back, jaw set, ready to do whatever needed to be done. The woman named Addison looked big enough, and angry enough, to ram a steer.

“Everything’s fine.”

Rand followed as his boss crossed to a settee. “Sounds like the natives are growing restless.”

“Local politics aren’t my concern.”

“Not unless you get lynched.”

“The Civil War’s over, remember?”

“Tell Mrs. Robert E. Lee over there that.”

Daniel stifled a chuckle. Matters surrounding elections often drove high feelings. He wished Abigail all the best with her efforts to infiltrate this previously held man’s domain. Other than that, he wasn’t interested. Wouldn’t get involved.

Daniel nodded at the laptop case Rand carried.

“You heading off?”

Rand nodded. “Sure you want to stay?”

“I have a job to do.”

“And a certain lady to see?”

Daniel opened his mouth to deny it, but what was the point. “As a matter of fact, yes. I’m taking Elizabeth Milton to dinner this evening.”

“She must be special.”

“I’m not staying because of Elizabeth.”

“It’s none of my business, boss.”

“Then why are you grinning?”

“Was I grinning?”

He knew damn well he was and, for a moment, Daniel thought Rand had somehow learned about his and Elizabeth’s escapade this morning. But that wasn’t possible, even if Chadwick Tremain obviously had his well-founded suspicions.

Daniel shook his second-in-charge’s hand and moved off toward the lifts. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

Rand reminded him. “Be careful not to overstay your welcome.”

When Daniel received a message from Elizabeth saying she’d meet him at the restaurant, he wondered why she wouldn’t want him to collect her.

Where women were concerned he was the old-fashioned type. A man should collect a lady, be on time, open her door. He couldn’t say he’d slept with a woman he’d known less than twenty-four hours before. To balance that anomaly, he couldn’t remember wanting to enjoy that time again so much.

Perhaps she’d planned to already be out and about, he decided, nodding to the doorman as he entered Claire’s Restaurant that evening. And if Elizabeth had her own transportation, was he still on for looking over more of her home later this evening, or was she planning on saying goodnight here?