A Murderous Game (15 page)

Abby wondered if her boss believed
that or just had no choice but to suck up or lose the account. Following Gage's
instruction from the other night to act surprised by whatever
happened,
she leaned slightly forward and looked at her
boss.

"I'm not sure I understand,
sir." She was about to paraphrase some of what Norwell said when Gage let
out an impatient sigh.

"It's quite simple, Ms.
Carpenter," he cut in curtly. "Mr. Norwell misunderstood what I
wanted." He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steeped his
fingers in front of his chest.

Abby ventured a glance at Norwell
and was sure he was gritting his teeth. Suck up, she decided. She looked back
at Gage, who appeared to regard her and Norwell with arrogant tolerance.

"I don't know how my
intentions were misconstrued. I'm sure I made them clear." He waved a hand
in the air as if he didn't have time to dwell on it. "It's neither here
nor there at this point."

Norwell looked nervous Gage could
change his mind again. "You're right. The important thing is we understand
each other now." He sat up straighter. "And as I assured you, none of
us want you to be uncomfortable with your decision."

Gage looked over the tips of his
fingers at Norwell. "No," he drawled. "I don't suppose you
do." He shifted his gaze to Abby. "I don't make rash decisions, Ms.
Carpenter. Other people might, but I always explore my options."

He was amazing, she thought,
sitting there with that superior attitude, as if the world owed him, and
pulling it off so convincingly.

He flicked a glance back to
Norwell. "I must admit, Billings
seems bright. I liked some of his ideas. However, before I select him to work
on
Riv
One, I want to assure myself he's the right
choice."

Gage made it sound like Billings was a foregone
conclusion. He sniffed arrogantly then rubbed a finger across his mouth. It was
then she noticed his lips twitch and realized he was enjoying himself.

"I understand." She
lifted her chin as if she'd been offended but was trying to maintain her
dignity. "I'll do whatever Mr. Norwell decides."

"No." Gage said in a tone
that would have alarmed her if she didn't know it was for Norwell's benefit.
"You will do whatever
I
decide." She almost smiled at him.

Norwell blustered. "Ms.
Carpenter will be happy to meet with you at your convenience." He looked
pointedly at her. "Won't you?"

"Yes, at least I'll try my
best," she said, as if innocent of what was happening. "I do have
several appointments scheduled over the next couple of weeks, but I'm sure I
can find some time to meet with you."

"Mr. Faraday is a very busy
man." Norwell jumped in, looking like he wanted to give her a good shake.
"You'll have to rearrange your other meetings to fit his schedule."

Abby lifted her right shoulder in a
slight shrug. "If that's what you want me to do."

Gage stood up. "I've wasted
enough time here." He looked down his nose at her. "Call my office
and set something up for later this afternoon. I want to resolve this as soon
as possible." He gave Norwell a curt nod then turned to leave.

"I'll see you out."
Norwell jumped up from his chair and hurried around the desk. Gage was already
out the door. Abby got up to leave as well. Norwell threw her a punishing
glance and hissed out a warning. "Just do what the bastard wants. He's an
unreasonable son of a bitch, but we can't lose this account."

~~~

Abby hadn't been back in her office
ten minutes when the phone rang. It was Gage.

"I thought it would be less
awkward for you if Norwell and Billings
just thought I was an unreasonable prick rather than wonder if you had anything
to do with me changing my mind."

The fact Gage had come in person
rather than calling, and deliberately made himself look like a demanding
eccentric, amazed her. She knew he'd only done it to shift the focus away from
her.

"So what happens when my week
is up, and you have to give Norwell your final decision?"

"I'll tell him you impressed
me with your brains and vision, and I'm choosing you to work on the
project."

"I'm flattered. Is that the
real reason?"

"Yes," he said
succinctly. "And because you look better in a skirt than Billings does." She was about to say she
didn't think that should be a consideration when he cut her off. "I'm just
getting into a cab. Can you meet me this evening?
Around
seven at my office?"

"Well, I guess so." She
considered asking if it would be better if she came tomorrow, during the day.

"I'll see you then. I'll ask
Grace to order in some dinner."

Abby returned the phone to the
carriage. She hoped they weren't establishing a pattern. She didn't mind
evening meetings as long as they weren't the norm.

It was more than that. Being alone
with Gage made her nervous. She ran the pad of her index finger along the edge
of the desk. She didn't trust her feelings for him. Each time they were
together she felt even more attracted to him. She'd been upset when she lost
the account, but now that she had it back she might just have a bigger problem
on her hands.

~~~

"I'm flying to Chicago tomorrow,"
Gage told Abby as they discussed promotional strategies that evening in his
office. "I won't be returning until Friday." He stretched his arm along
the back of the couch. From her vantage point in the chair opposite him, he
reminded her of an aristocrat. Despite his middle-class background, he'd beat
the odds and risen to the very elite within the corporate world. Now,
everything about him emanated success and power.

"There goes my week to try and
win the account," she teased.

His lips curved sensually.
"I've already called Norwell and told him something came up, and I won't
be able to meet with you until next week."

"And
tonight?"

"Tonight's a bonus meeting
since he made the mistake of misunderstanding me." He shot her an amused
glance.

"You didn't really tell him
that…did you?" she asked, fully prepared to hear that he had.

"No. Although I'm sure if I
had, he would have apologized for the error all over again. It amazes me what
some people will do at the prospect of losing money."

"A lot of money," she
said. "Norwell's not willing to risk your business. If you had said you'd
never even brought up account managers, he probably would have said he'd made
the mistake of confusing you with another client."

Abby frowned. "At least
Norwell's not snorting smoke from his nostrils like Harold Billings is. I don't
think he's as convinced as Norwell that I didn't have something to do with you
changing your mind."

"Did Billings do something to
upset you?"

"Nothing I can't handle,"
she said.

Gage's eyes narrowed momentarily
but he said nothing. Abby felt the weight of his vigilant watchfulness. Did he
study everyone so intently?

She looked at her day planner where
she'd outlined some marketing ideas she wanted to run by him. They still hadn't
discussed ground rules. Maybe there wouldn't be a need. Maybe he'd already
forgotten their kiss, and there'd never been any chance of a reoccurrence.

When she lifted her gaze he was
still watching her, only now there was a crooked grin on that oh so sexy face.
She made a show of checking her clothes and realized she'd forgotten about the
large stain on her blouse.

"Oh! I forgot about that. I
wondered what you kept looking at. I just missed being run over by a kid on a
skateboard at lunch. Fortunately, he only bumped me. But I was holding a hot
dog at the time, and it ended up on my blouse."

Amusement danced in his eyes.
"I wondered what happened when you walked into Norwell's office this
afternoon." His expression changed. "I wasn't looking at the stain,
though. I was just wondering what you look like with your hair down."

Abby reached up and smoothed a hand
over her head. When she realized what she was doing, she snatched it away and
folded it with the other one in her lap. She cleared her throat. "It's
easier this way for work."

He nodded then stood up.
"Not that it isn't attractive.
I just wondered."
He walked across the office to the corner bar. "I'm going to fix a drink
before we continue. Would you like one?"

Abby stood up. "Yes, thank
you." As nervous as he made her feel, she could use something.

He pulled out a bottle of wine.
"Cabernet, right?"

She nodded and then went to the
wall of windows to look out at the city. "You've got a beautiful
view."

Gage finished with the drinks and
came around the bar. Abby could see his reflection in the glass as he came up
behind her. Her pulse sped up when he stopped just at her back.

"It's probably my favorite
thing about this office," he said.

She didn't move, afraid to turn,
afraid they were too close. Every nerve in her body screamed for her to step
away, step far away, but she didn't seem capable.

"Your
wine."
He handed the glass around her from behind and she shivered.

She had to force herself to
breathe. She felt trapped by his arm. Belatedly she realized he was still
holding the glass. She reached up suddenly, too suddenly. She knocked his wrist
with her hand, and the wine flew up from the glass. Horrified, she jerked sideways
and looked down.

"Oh,
no!"
She peeked up at Gage, embarrassed by her clumsiness.

He took a step back. Cupping his
right elbow with his left hand, he brought the right hand up to his chin.
"I'm afraid you're going to have to retire that blouse." His serious
expression slipped, and she realized he was trying not to laugh. She didn't
appreciate him laughing at her. She turned away and took a few jerky steps
toward his desk, her cheeks flaming.

She spun back to face him.
"This is your fault," she said unthinkingly, her emotions getting the
best of her.

"How is it my fault?" he
asked, still grinning. "All I did was hand you a glass of wine."

Abby crossed her arms, partly
covering the spreading wine stain, just under the mustard and ketchup stain.

"You didn't
just
hand
it to me. You snaked it around me and said
your wine
in that deep, husky
voice. And you, well, you made me nervous."

Gage started toward her. He had
that look, the one that made her hum. She took a retreating step, and the back
of her thighs came up against the hard edge of his desk. Startled, she shot him
a nervous glance only to realize he now stood mere inches in front of her.

He set his drink and her now empty
wine glass on the desk then planted his hands palm down on either side of her.
Abby leaned back, not sure what it accomplished because now she felt trapped in
his mesmerizing gaze.

"Do I make you nervous,
Abby?" His eyes smoldered. He began to lower his head, his intent clear.

She placed her hands on his chest,
her head and her heart waging a battle over whether to let him kiss her.
"I don't think you really want to do this," she said, wondering how
she'd possibly convince him when the betraying voice in her head sang,
oh
yeah, boogie down,
get
it on.

"Oh, yes I do. I've wanted to
do this since you walked through that door." He leaned in, and she leaned
further back.

"You might think that right
now, but I should warn you there's a high probability you'll be sorry in the
morning."

His gaze fell to her mouth.
"The only way I'll be sorry in the morning," he whispered against her
lips, "is if I don't kiss you tonight."

He covered her mouth, slanting
first one way and then the other. Gently he urged her to kiss him back. And she
did.
God, she was so easy
.

Gage stroked his hands up her arms,
over the tender skin on her neck, and molded them to her face. With a
seductiveness that rendered her helpless, he pressed his body against hers.
Time stood still while he brushed infinite kisses across her cheeks, her neck,
back to her mouth. He traced her lips with his tongue and sought entrance to
dance with hers.

Abby gave in to every wonderful
sensation. They just felt too good to end yet. He continued to caress her. One
hand drifted to her head and began removing the pins from her hair.  

"You have beautiful
hair," he said, weaving his fingers through it. His other hand trailed
down her back, circling, molding her to him. She murmured his name.

Gage moaned. His mouth became more
urgent, his tongue more demanding. He combed his fingers through her hair,
loosening it further until it fell completely free to tumble over and around
her shoulders. His mouth felt hot on her throat, hungry lips and teeth driving
her to the edge of sanity.

She welcomed him, her hands roaming
restlessly over his back, urging him closer. He cupped her breast, molding it
through her blouse. Then his fingers were traveling along the row of buttons in
front, flicking them open with an expertise that should have alarmed her. His
lips found hers again, making her drunk on desire.

"I want you, Abby." He
started backward, pulling her with him toward the couch. Somewhere, in the far
corners of her mind a lonely, rational thought struggled for attention.

Gage pushed her blouse off her
shoulders. He kissed her there, scorching a path across her exposed skin.
"Abby." His voice sounded hoarse. He wanted her. Her body exploded
with need. A warning screamed in her head. He wanted to make love to her and
that would be disastrous.

Abby jerked in his arms.
"No," she said, suddenly alarmed, pushing at his chest. "We
can't."

"Yes we can. Don't pull
away."