Linda Howard - Sarah's Child

“I want you to know,” he murmured, leaning over the desk and bringing his face close to hers, “I want you for my secretary…badly…but my common sense tells me that I’d never get any work done. I’d be the stereotypical boss who chases his secretary around the desk, so for the sake of the company, I suppose I’ll have to keep Kali.”

Sarah stared at him, losing herself in the dark wells of his eyes. “I understand,” she whispered.

“Do you?” He straightened, his smile quizzical as he looked down at her. “I’m not so certain that I do. Maybe you can explain it. Will you go out to dinner with me tonight?”

She normally didn’t make dates during the week, as she never knew when she would have to work late, but when Rome asked her, her usual caution flew out the window. “Yes, please.” She couldn’t hide the pleasure in her eyes, and he stared at her for a moment before he leaned down once again and kissed her once, hard.

“I’ll pick you up at eight. How does Chinese sound?”

“Wonderful. I love Chinese.”

Her hands shook after he’d gone when she tried to get through her routine paperwork. This was beginning to look like a serious relationship, and there was no way she could back off from it, no way she even wanted to. She thought of Diane, and her eyes closed briefly. She would have died in Diane’s place, if she could have, but no one had been given a choice. Rome was free now, physically and legally if not emotionally, and whatever chance she had with him, Sarah meant to take it.

If he didn’t have a business dinner scheduled, Rome took her out every night that week. Sarah didn’t question her good fortune; she simply enjoyed every moment she had with him. Reminding herself that he’d asked only to be friends, she tried not to say anything or make any gestures that he could interpret as being flirtatious, though sometimes that hardly seemed to matter. When he kissed her good night, his light kiss would linger, as if he were inexorably drawn to the soft warmth of her mouth, and soon she’d be locked in his arms as they kissed with all the pent-up fervor of teenagers. But there was no more than that; he always drew away before any deeper intimacy developed between them, and Sarah took that to mean that he didn’t intend any serious relationship to grow between them. He seemed content with things as they were; he had companionship and lively conversation from her, as well as the comfort of shared interests. She wanted more; she wanted everything he had to give, but perhaps he was giving her all he had. She knew that Diane was never far from his mind, and whenever they talked about her, as they inevitably did, his expression would grow bleak.

A week after Mr. Graham’s heart attack, Maxwell Conroy flew in from Montreal. He was a tall, lean Englishman with a precise British upper-class accent, a cap of golden hair, and the liveliest, most wickedly dancing blue-green eyes Sarah had ever seen. He was more than handsome; he had an ageless, aristocratic beauty to him that held women bemused, staring at him helplessly. If Sarah had been able to see anyone but Rome, she would probably have fallen in love with Maxwell Conroy on sight, but as it was, he received only her usual polite, slightly remote smile.

He wasted no time. The first time Sarah was alone with him he asked her out to dinner.

She looked up at him with startled, wide eyes. There was no way of mistaking his intentions, not with those luminous eyes so plainly telegraphing his thoughts. She bit her lip; how could she refuse him without making things difficult between them at work? She didn’t want to commit herself, though, because Rome could ask her out at any time. “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” she finally refused, keeping her voice gentle. “We have to work together, and you know that although there aren’t any actual company rules against employees dating, it’s generally discouraged within the same department.”

“I also know that as long as people are discreet it’s generally ignored.”

She drew a deep breath. “I’m seeing someone else.”

“Would he mind?” Maxwell asked promptly, and Sarah gave a low chuckle.

“Probably not,” she admitted, her laugh fading into an echo of pain that was revealed in the way the soft green of her eyes grew misty with shadows.

“Then he’s a fool,” Maxwell said under his breath, his eyes on her sleek, pale knot of hair. “If you should decide to give someone else a chance, do let me know.”

“Yes.” For a moment, she met his warm, piercing gaze. “I will.”

In all truth, she was more attracted to Maxwell than she’d been to any other man in her life, except for Rome. She’d liked Maxwell on sight, and in a curious way she felt relaxed with him, for she sensed that he recognized the boundaries she’d set and would respect them until she gave him permission to go beyond them.

That afternoon Rome and Maxwell lingered in the hallway, finishing a discussion before leaving for the day. Sarah locked up the office and murmured a good night to them as she walked past, carefully not letting her glance linger on Rome.

Maxwell turned so he could watch her walk down the hallway, his brilliant eyes narrowed with interest. Rome’s dark gaze sharpened, and he too turned to watch Sarah, noting the grace with which she walked, the way her skirt moved fluidly about her lovely legs. He didn’t like the way Maxwell was looking at her, like a cat lovingly surveying the canary it was about to have for lunch, and a slow curl of anger began in his stomach.

“She’s a very pretty woman,” he commented, probing for a response, and every nerve in his body waited for Maxwell’s answer.

Maxwell shot him an incredulous look. “Pretty? She’s bloody beautiful. She’s so subtle, so understated, that you have to really look to see how pure and classic her face is.”

Rome had seen her face glowing with pleasure, her lips swollen from his kisses and begging for more. He was proceeding at an excruciatingly slow pace, waiting for a signal from her that she was feeling the frustration of ending their evenings with only kisses. Yes, she liked his kisses, but there was still an aloofness to her that he hadn’t been able to break, and no matter how torridly she kissed him, she didn’t invite him further. He was beginning to feel desperate, his body aching for release. He’d been devoting his evenings to her, so there’d been no casual meeting with any other woman to relieve his sexual urges. He hadn’t come up against such a mental stone wall since he’d been a randy teenager, determinedly trying to seduce his virginal girlfriend every Friday night in the backseat of his car.

But if Sarah ever lost her self-control enough to give in to passion, it would be with him. He’d be damned if he’d let Maxwell see her with that cool reserve melted into primitive heat and longing. Her desire would be his, and his alone.

“I’ve noticed how she looks,” he said evenly, but his tone signaled a warning to the other man. Maxwell looked at him sharply, then sighed.

“So, you’ve beaten me to her, have you?”

“I’ve known her for years,” Rome replied obliquely.

That elicited a snort from Maxwell. “I’ve known my mother’s housekeeper for years too, but I don’t warn men away from her.”

Rome laughed, something that had become easier during this past week. Despite himself, he liked Maxwell. Max might pursue Sarah relentlessly, but he’d never be sneaky about it; he’d simply take his chances. That made no difference to Rome’s determination to have her all to himself, but he relaxed, his eyes meeting Max’s with complete masculine understanding.

Max shrugged with an elegant movement of his lean shoulders. “I’ll be waiting in the wings, if you should fail.”