Blazing Midsummer Nights (Harlequin Blaze) (17 page)

Like in her dream.

She’d flown in that amazing dream she’d had the first night when she’d drunk some of Obi-Wan’s tea. She’d forgotten it again until just that moment. Which made her wonder if she’d had any other dreams the second time she’d drunk the tea…dreams she couldn’t remember, either.

“Let me show you,” Dimitri said, bringing her mind back to the tense moment at hand.

Leaning over her desk, he flipped through a few pages of the sales circular, until he came to the page displaying this week’s meat specials. Running the tip of his perfectly manicured finger over the photographs of the products, he stopped about halfway down, tapping on one tiny picture and block of text.

Mimi peered at the image. Then, not believing what she was seeing, grabbed her reading glasses that she used when she’d read so much she could barely see anymore, and looked again.

“Oh. My. God.”

“Exactly!” her father said.

She understood why he was so angry. Because she was hit with a rush of fury herself.

Right in the middle of the meat ad, between the mention of the buy-one-get-one deal on London Broil, and the special on chicken breasts, was a small hand-drawn image.

“It’s a penis,” she whispered, still not believing her eyes.

“Of course it’s a penis!” her father said.

This was a nightmare.

Whoever had drawn it was talented. It was just about the most realistic cartoon penis and testicles she’d ever seen, right down to some icky purple veins. Nobody could claim it was a mirage seen only by dirty-minded people.

Well-drawn, but small and cleverly concealed. Probably only about a half inch long, it was lost amid all the other images…until you looked close. And to drive the point home, directly beneath it were the teeny-tiny words
Tube Steak! Eat all you want for free!

She slid her fingers under the glasses, rubbing her eyes again, aware of a headache that had just begun to pound behind them.

What to do…a recall, obviously. Strip all the copies from the stores, publish an apology in the next circular?

“How could you let this happen?” her father barked.

She stiffened. Mimi had been focused on the
what
of the issue, and the
how
to fix it. Not on casting the blame for it happening in the first place. That could come later, after they did some major ass-covering.

But not according to her father.

“Me?”

“You’re the head of the marketing and advertising departments, aren’t you?” He swung around to face her, his face red, spittle flying from his lips. “If you were anybody but my daughter, I’d fire you on the spot.”

If she were anyone but his daughter, she’d tell him to go fuck himself. Because while she was the head of the departments, as he’d said, she was also very good at her job. She had gone over the proofs of that circular with a magnifying glass in hand, like she did every week, and knew damn well that obscenity had not been on it. She had the proof filed away, with her initials on it, and if there was a penis on the damn thing, she would not only tender her resignation on the spot, but she’d also drop to the floor and kiss her father’s hand in supplication.

But there wasn’t. She knew it down to her very soul.

She had an immediate suspicion about what might have happened. Her fight with their printer, who’d had the contract for so long they’d grown lazy, had blown up last week. She’d told the owner she was putting out a request for proposal for bids from other companies. The man was a good-old-boy redneck with a sexist attitude and a chip on his shoulder, and he had been furious. She couldn’t help but wonder if he’d expressed his fury to somebody on his staff, who’d decided to slip a little something extra into the ad. Or, heck, if he’d done it himself!

It made perfect, infuriating sense. But her father didn’t even want to hear an explanation—he was busy blaming her.

“I want everyone in those departments in a meeting in one hour,” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot imperiously. “One of those jokers thought he was being funny and might have cost us a major media firestorm. Well, let’s see if he’s still laughing when he’s standing on the unemployment line.”

“It wasn’t one of my people… .”

“Of course it was. You just don’t want to admit it because you treat them like friends instead of employees.”

Her jaw fell. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Oh, I know about your pedicures with that assistant of yours. You can’t treat subordinates like gal pals, Mimi, or you get taken advantage of. This obviously proves it.”

She couldn’t understand what he meant, then something dawned on her. She had given Lauren a gift certificate to a local day spa for a mani/pedi after she’d done a terrific job on a project, and had decided at the last minute to go with her. Dimitri had been taking her out for dinner that night, their very first date, and had heard all about it.

And he’d felt the need to run to tattle to her father.

Like…like a big brother.

She turned her attention to him, glared with such heat he flinched. Her eyes never left his face, though she was addressing her father. “Oh, is that what you’ve heard?”

Dimitri swiped a hand through his perfect hair, messing it up as much as she’d ever seen it. “Mimi, I…”

“Save it,” she snarled, talking not to Dimitri, her colleague, but to Dimitri, the man she’d actually gone out with a couple of times. Had he been reporting the amount of money she spent, where she ate her lunch, or how quickly she’d let him kiss her? Bastard.

Mimi closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and grabbed hold of her emotions and her anger with both fists. When she felt under control, she turned back to her father. “Fine. Meeting in your office in one hour.” Her eyes narrowing, she added, “But
I
will decide which of my staff members need to be in attendance.”

Their stares locked, and she noticed his eyes flared a little. They’d had a few run-ins, but she hadn’t ever addressed him with such fury and utter disdain in her voice. But he’d laid the groundwork for this confrontation when he’d stormed in here and thrown around his accusations. Not to mention making that hateful crack about firing her.

The ridiculous thing was, if she were anyone but his daughter, he would have treated her a whole lot more respectfully. At the very least, he would have bothered to ask if she had any idea what had happened, rather than just deciding she’d screwed up.

“Now how about both of you get out so I can get busy figuring out how this happened?”

Her father’s stiff, angry posture softened a little, as if he suddenly realized how righteously furious she was. “Mimi…”

“If you’ll excuse me,
sir,
I really need to get to work.”

He hesitated, his mouth pulling down and his brow furrowing into a puzzled frown. Her dad was the type to bluster and fume, then calm down and listen to reason, which was obviously what was happening here.

Problem was, it was too late. He’d crossed a line this time with his minion’s help. She wasn’t going to just laugh this off as Dad being Dad. He’d behaved badly, been a lousy manager, and once she cleared her name—and her staff—she was going to make sure he knew exactly how she felt about it.

Beyond that, she honestly didn’t know what she was going to do. But if she still felt the way she did right now, it might not be just her staff members walking the unemployment line. Because she’d quit her job before she ever let him make her feel the way he’d made her feel this morning, her future with her family’s company be damned.

Part of her was horrified by the very idea, considering she’d been trying so hard to prove herself worthy of the CEO job. Another part—the part that had other dreams and wishes, that sometimes fantasized about going to a new company where she could really push herself creatively—found it incredibly exciting.

Right now, Mimi truly had no idea which way things would go. All she knew was she had sixty minutes to clear her name, and her staff.

After that…the future was wide-open.

* * *

T
HOUGH THEY’D BEEN
physically involved for under a week, the moment Xander saw Mimi Thursday evening, he knew something was wrong. Seriously wrong.

It wasn’t just the frown on her face. Or the dark circles under her eyes. Or the streaks on her cheeks that told of recently shed tears.

The spoon and half gallon of ice cream in her hand, and the big glass of wine sitting beside her on her kitchen counter said a whole lot, too.

He’d come over right after he’d gotten home from the station, knocking once, then letting himself in after she called out that the door was unlocked. Seeing her in such a wrecked state, his stomach dropped and he went right to her, taking the ice cream out of her hands and pulling her into his arms.

He didn’t say anything, and when she opened her mouth to, he stopped her with a kiss.

She dropped the spoon to the floor with a clatter, then lifted her hands up to encircle his neck, holding him tight. Her mouth opened, her soft lips parting in welcome, her cold, chocolaty tongue plunging against his.

When they finally drew apart for breath, he said, “I can tell something’s wrong and you’ve had a shitty day. What will make you feel better—talking about it, or getting made love to until you can’t even remember your own name, much less what was wrong?”

She gazed up at him, a tiny hint of a smile appearing on those beautiful lips. Instead of answering, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt, turned and pulled him toward her bedroom.

Oh, good. Hot sex instead of conversation. That would have been his first choice, too.

He followed her for a couple of steps, then stopped, bent and swept her up into his arms. Any woman who’d had a day as bad as hers deserved to be swept off her feet by a man who was crazy about her.

And he was crazy about her. Head-over-heels, out-of-his-mind, now-and-forever mad about her.

He had fallen into lust at first sight the night they met. Now, his emotions were fully engaged by this woman. Hers was the face he pictured when he drifted off to sleep every night, and the first thing he thought of every morning. He’d already fallen into an I-have-to-tell-Mimi-about-this habit, so used to having her in his life already, even though he hadn’t even known her a couple of weeks ago.

His father had once told him he’d fallen in love with his mother, who he barely knew, when he saw her angrily confront a man who had made a racist remark to a passing stranger.

Xander had fallen when he’d seen Mimi up in that tree, trying to rescue that dumb cat.

In her room, he dropped her onto the bed. She immediately reached up to pull her blouse free of her pants, but he put his hands on hers, stopping her.

“Just lie there and let me take care of you.”

“But…”

“Let me,” he insisted.

She did as he asked, letting her hand fall to her side, any further protests dying on her lips. She watched wide-eyed as he pulled his own shirt up and off. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he kicked off his boots but kept his pants on. This wasn’t about him getting naked, it was about getting her relaxed. Giving her something else to think about—something to feel good about.

He began to slowly unbutton her silky blouse, taking his time, letting her know he had the patience to do things right. When his knuckles scraped across the curve of her breast, she moaned a little, but she didn’t twist closer or demand he speed things up.

Once she was all unbuttoned, he spread the blouse open, then sat back on his heels to look at the pretty, pale pink bra she wore underneath. It wasn’t as pretty as her skin, not nearly as pretty as the puckered nipples he could see beneath the lace, but it was damned nice nonetheless.