Married to His Business (Millionaire of the Month #5)(7)
Author: Elizabeth Bevarly

He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought about that before. At least not consciously. Evidently his brain had been considering it sM&consciously, to have thrown out the offer to hire her back. That was probably what had been behind Matthias’s driving into town to find her in the first place. He’d been planning—subconsciously—to renegotiate the terms of her employment and invite her back.

Yeah, that was it. It had to be. Why else would he have come?

Kendall, however, didn’t seem to be as open to the idea of her return to Barton Limited as Matthias was, because

she didn’t answer him right away. In fact, she was looking at him as if she was kind of indignant.

No, it must be grateful, he told himself immediately. Indignity, gratitude.those got mixed up all the time. They had a lot of the same letters in common. After all, why would she feel indignant?

"I have a job," she said tersely.

Or maybe she’d said it sweetly. Those got mixed up a lot, too. Matthias was sure of it. The letter thing again.

"And I’m very excited about it," she added.

No, definitely terse, he thought. And not a little shirty.

Instead of replying, he strode across the room to the broad panoramic windows that looked out over the crystalline blue water of the lake and the bright blue sky above it. The day was glorious, the view crisp and clean, the dark green mountains on the other side of the water streaked with purple shadows from the forests of trees, the sun dappling the water as if it were scattering diamonds. This place was as far removed from the skyscrapers and concrete of San Francisco as it could be, and the last thing anyone should think about here was work. Which was why Matthias so seldom visited places like this. And which was why—one of many whys—he knew Stephen DeGallo was up to no good.

He sensed more than heard Kendall as she came up behind him, and was unprepared for the feeling that washed over him when she came to a halt behind him. He’d been edgy since leaving San Francisco, as he always was when he traveled. Travel was such a waste of time, and Matthias was always impatient getting from point A to point B so he could get on with business. This time, however, the feeling hadn’t lessened once he’d arrived at his destination.

He’d still been feeling anxious when he entered Kendall’s room. But when she stood beside him then, he was suddenly overcome by a feeling of calmness. Peaceful-ness. A strange sense of well-being that he hadn’t felt for…

Well, a couple of weeks, anyway.

She said nothing as she gazed out the window, only studied the same view Matthias was considering himself. But he knew there must be some part of her brain that was questioning DeGallo’s motives by now. She was a smart woman. She had good instincts. It was what made her so good at what she did.

"Look at that view," he said anyway, trivializing with a cliché what was a staggeringly beautiful piece of work. "You don’t see views like that in the city." He turned to face Kendall before adding meaningfully, "Where most job orientations take place."

She slumped a little at the comment, expelling a tired-sounding sigh. But she said nothing to deny his more-than-obvious allegation.

"And look at this room," he said further, turning again and sweeping both arms open. "Who gets a place like this when they’re undergoing orientation for a new job?"

Kendall sighed again, still sounding weary, but turned her body in the same direction as his. "New vice presidents for the company," she told him. "That’s who. Stephen just wants to make a good impression, that’s all."

Matthias dipped his head in concession, however small, to that. Then he strode to the table where there sat a bouquet of flowers more massive than any man anywhere had ever sent to any woman for any reason—be it declaring his love or groveling for forgiveness. He plucked the card from a particularly luscious-looking bloom and began to open it.

"Matthias, don’t—" Kendall began.

He halted, snapping his head up at that, not because she had told him to stop, but because she had addressed him by his first name. Never, not once, during the five years she’d worked for him had she called him Matthias. Because never, not once, had he given her the okay to do it. And the fact that she had stepped over that line now so thoroughly, without his permission.

Hmm. Actually, now that he’d heard her call him Matthias, he realized he kind of liked the way his name sounded coming from her lips. In fact, he kind of liked the way her lips looked right now, having just said his name. Parted softly in surprise, and maybe embarrassment, as if she hadn’t intended to call him Matthias, and now she wasn’t sure what to do to take it back, or if she even wanted to take it back. What was strange was that Matthias didn’t want her to take it back. In fact, he wanted her to say it again. Even more surprising, he realized the context in which he wanted to hear her say his name had nothing to do with her job, and everything to do with, well, other reasons people came to Lake Tahoe.

"Don’t," she said again, more softly this time. Omitting the use of his name.

This time, too, she extended her hand toward the small envelope he still held tucked between his index and middle fingers. Not sure why he did it, Matthias pulled his hand toward himself, out of her reach. She took another step forward, bringing her body to within touching distance of his, then hesitated. But she didn’t drop her hand, and for a moment, he thought—hoped—she would trail her hand after his to retrieve the card. He even found himself looking forward to her fingers tangling with his as they vied for

possession. And although it was clear she was grappling with the possibility of that very thing herself—or maybe because she was grappling with it—she dropped her hand to her side again, ceding to him with clear reluctance.

The victory was strangely hollow, but Matthias shouldered it anyway. Opening the envelope, he withdrew the card, then scanned the sentiment upon it. He wasn’t sure if it was DeGallo’s writing, but it was masculine and forceful, and he suspected DeGallo himself had indeed penned the words. The task hadn’t been left to an assistant to complete, which was what Matthias would have done in the same situation.

Then again, Matthias would never have been in this situation. Oh, he might have wooed someone away from one of his competitors specifically to learn more about that competitor’s practices, but he would have been straightforward about it. He wouldn’t have set up the new hire in a honeymoon suite with a breathtaking view of a romantic environment and called it orientation. And he wouldn’t have sent flowers—with anyone’s signature.

He shook his head as he read aloud the sentiment DeGallo had written. "Kendall," he said, "Can’t wait to have you navigating our PR waters. Welcome aboard!" He looked up at Kendall then, but she was staring at the wall. "Navigating our PR waters?" he repeated. "Was that the best he could do?"