Anne Winston - Seducing The Proper Miss Miller

Thad put down the receiver and leisurely straightened his lean frame, smiling down at her. He was at least six feet if not a little more, she’d guess. And all muscle, a treacherous voice inside her reminded. Seated at her desk, Chloe felt small and unexpectedly feminine, vulnerable in a way that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but one that made the knots in her stomach loosen and flutter into big butterflies.

“Thanks for the use of your phone,” he said.

“You’re welcome.” She felt as if the knots had migrated to her tongue.

“So I guess it’s no coincidence that your last name is the same as the good Reverend Miller’s.”

“He’s my father.”

The corners of his lips curled higher. “I’m glad you’re not his wife.”

She felt herself coloring again. For the life of her she couldn’t think of an answer to that. Before she could form a coherent thought, he began to speak again.

“Well,” he said. “I guess I’d better get back on that ladder or I’ll get fired.” But he made no move to go.

She forced herself not to sit and gawk at him. Women probably did that all the time, and she wasn’t about to let him see how he affected her. “They won’t fire you. You came highly recommended.”

He laughed, throwing his head back and displaying strong white teeth. “I’ll just bet.” Then he sobered, focusing those incredible eyes on her mouth. After a silence that lasted a beat too long, he said, “If they knew what I was thinking right now, I’d be history.”

Again, she couldn’t reply, couldn’t form a single word. He packed more experience into that single sentence than she’d had in her entire life. Her life had been spent in a quiet world of predictable routine and studying, and since her return home, all her time and energy had been thrown into her job. Oh, she’d spent the normal amount of time as an adolescent peering into the mirror, examining her features, and she’d quickly come to the conclusion that she was never going to be a raving beauty.

Nowadays, the mirror was mostly used for making sure her flyaway brown curls weren’t sticking out in all directions. She knew there wasn’t anything special about her, anything that would attract a man like Thad Shippen. Could he be like this with all women?

Of course, said a little voice inside. Remember how he treated you? With his looks, he’s probably had encouragement from women all his life. Flirting—and more—must be like breathing to him.

Still, even though she knew he didn’t mean it, all the heat in her body responded to his sensual teasing. He caught her gaze with his, and for a long moment she simply stared at him.

He started to speak. “Would you—”

The door banged open.

Chloe jumped. She could have sworn Thad did the same. Reverend Miller came marching into the office, his back ramrod straight.

“Chloe, did you see where that man on the ladder got to? Oh.” He paused, seeing Thad standing by her desk. “Good morning, Mr. Shippen. Is there something we can do for you?”

Thad smiled widely at her father, but even from her seat she could tell that it wasn’t the warm shift of facial muscles she’d received. This one was all teeth and coolness. “Hello there, Mr. Minister, sir. Thank you, but Chloe’s already taken care of everything I wanted.”

She was shocked by the taunting, deliberately provocative words, but her father didn’t appear to notice anything out of the ordinary.

“You’re not to be in the office bothering Chloe,” he said curtly. “She’s busy and you should be, too, if you want to keep this job.”

Thad didn’t move for a long moment. Then he shrugged. “If you don’t want the work done, I’ll just pick up my things and let you find somebody else to do the restoration.”

The minister waved a hand at the door. “Don’t put words in my mouth, Mr. Shippen. Just get on with your job and leave us to ours.”

To Chloe he said, “If he bothers you again, let me know.”

It was a clear dismissal, but as Thad winked at her and swaggered out of the office, Chloe knew who had won. Her father didn’t have the authority to fire anyone and he knew it. So why had he threatened Thad with the loss of his job?

She shook her head briskly as the minister disappeared into his office. Well, whatever it was, it had nothing to do with her, and she wasn’t going to fret about it

She attacked her work with determination, and didn’t stop again until almost noon, when her father stuck his head out of his office. “Chloe, would you mind picking up some lunch for me today? I have someone in my office and I can’t leave right now.”

“Certainly.” She smiled at him, then gathered her purse and the light spring jacket she’d worn. There was no need to ask her father what he would like; she probably knew his preferences better than he did.

As she pushed open the heavy front door of the church, she realized she would have to pass by Thad Shippen, who was still working outside though he’d moved away from her window.

The elders hadn’t specified what hours he was to work, but Thad knew the office opened at eight-thirty. And that meant Chloe Miller would be sliding out of that tiny car again this morning, pushing her skirt modestly down over her shapely legs and blushing when she saw him watching.

He wouldn’t miss it for the world.

She was very pretty beneath all that sedate courtesy, was Miss Church Secretary, though she didn’t appear to be aware of it. She must have been a few years behind him in school, but he didn’t remember her. Of course, if she hadn’t hung out at parties with a beer in her hand, waiting for a ride with any guy who had an itch to scratch, he doubted their paths had crossed.

He hadn’t paid much attention to the good girls.

Until Jean.

His hands stilled for a moment over the chisels he was selecting, then resumed their work. His mind, however, wasn’t so easily managed. It wandered back eight years in time, back to the day Jean had come banging into his kitchen, where he used to keep his business in the early days.

“I’m pregnant, Thad,” she’d announced, red hair flying in agitation. “My father’s going to kill me.”

Jean had indeed died, he thought sadly, but it hadn’t been at the hands of her disapproving father. Thad still visited her grave occasionally, though the headstone her family had chosen, with its depiction of a woman cradling an infant in her arms was almost more than he could take. It was still startling to see “Jean Lawman Shippen” inscribed on the stone.

So what was he doing, lusting after this prim little church secretary? he asked himself. He was poison, with a woman’s life on his conscience. Not to mention an unborn baby, who had never even had a chance to draw breath.

He didn’t allow himself to watch as Chloe walked into the church a few minutes later, and he was working industriously when the Reverend Miller came out a while later and drove away in his gray sedan. Around ten, he could feel his fingers getting stiff, and he decided to take a short break, maybe walk down to Main Street for a cup of coffee.

He was still climbing down the ladder when Chloe banged open the front door of the church, racing over to him in a way that seemed most unlike her. As she got close, he realized that her face was white, and the wide golden-brown eyes he thought so pretty were huge and strained.

“I smell gas,” she said breathlessly. “Get away from the church and call 911.” He instinctively put out a hand but she shrugged it off and turned, running back into the church before he could get out a single word.

“Damn!” Suddenly his heart was thumping a hundred miles a minute. He sprinted to the street and grabbed the first man he saw on the corner. “Get to a phone and call 911,” he shouted into the fellow’s startled face. “There’s a gas leak in the church and there are still people inside.”