Page 42 of Her Cadillac Cowboy
“I refuse to work another moment in the same department as that monster. What will you do with him for the remainder of today?”
“Send him to my office. He can work with Carol or me.”
“If you say so, Miss Carson.” Beadle sniffed. “That boy is nothing but trouble. You’d best take care and lock up anything valuable.”
“Has anything disappeared from your division in the past three days?”
“No, Miss Carson. But I took precautions and locked all valuables, including the girls’ purses, in the supply closet.”
“No doubt that was wise.” Sara stood and Beadle followed her lead. “Thank you for reporting these problems to me in person. It can’t have been easy for you.”
“It was not. Unlike some others I know, I have never shirked responsibility a day in my life.” Her back as rigid as ever, Beadle turned and walked out of the office.
What does she mean by that?Sara rubbed her forehead, then pressed her office intercom. “Carol, please send a runner over to the backlot warehouse and have him ask Mr. McKinley to stop by my office before he goes home for the evening. Tell him it concerns Will Talmidge.”
She slumped back into her chair and turned on her computer. The Carson’s website appeared on her screen, and she cringed.
For a sixty-second eternity, a high-tech script shouted from the screen:CUTIES AT CARSON’S CARS. CUM BY ONE TODAY!
The picture that followed the horrifying pun was worse. Three scantily clad women draped a gunmetal-gray version of one of Carson’s top- selling sports cars. Each lush female figure sat or sprawled on an angle of the car. The swell of sleek curves from both the car and the women wrapped around the viewer.
“Trying out a new ad campaign?”
Sara started at the sound of Josh’s voice in her ear and reached to blank the screen. His hand imprisoned her wrist before she could succeed.
“No, don’t,” he said.
His fingers stroked her inner wrist and held her immobile. A buzzing filled her ears from inside her head. She struggled to hear his words.
“The approach is inappropriate for a site that can be accessed by anyone old enough to type,” Josh continued, his head next to hers, “but the artwork is pretty good. Whoever drew this has a talent similar to Vallejo and Vargas. I like the way the screen pulses at the rate of the human heartbeat. And the banner running the stats at the bottom of the screen is a good touch.”
She hadn’t noticed the pulsing of the screen or the banner until he mentioned them. His voice was soft, and his breath tickled her ear. The smell of sawdust and bay leaves filtered through the air. Sara felt the throb of her own pulse beneath his fingers.
Mindless longing bloomed for a deeper touch, for closer contact—for Josh. Josh, the source of the wonderful flutters that bounced excitedly in her lower body. She turned her head. Her lips brushed delicately over his. His blue eyes gleamed triumphantly back at her. She lifted her hands to his shoulders.
Dear lord, she was doing it again. Letting her weakness for him overwhelm her. Her fingers curled into muscle. He was the source of all her recent troubles from the warehouse to the debacle wrought by Will Talmidge. She shoved and leapt to her feet.
Josh’s arms pinwheeled before he went down on his backside. He glared up at her from the floor like a toddler deprived of a lollipop. Her own anger swallowed up the urge to laugh, and Sara glared back at him. “You … you … asinine McKinley. I don’t know who Valley Joe and Far Gas are. I don’t care. I don’t even care who drew that erotica. But I do know who put it there.”
“Let me guess,” Josh picked himself up. “Will.”
Josh brushed dust from the jeans that clung to his upper legs. The memory of his hard thighs beneath her bottom swamped her.Traitors,she silently accused her tingling fingertips. She refused to allow her treacherous senses to distract her.
“Darn straight it was Will. That devil’s imp has cost me time, money and customers. You’re his guardian. You set him straight and supervise him while he fixes our website. I’m expecting an important business call. I need that site to be pristine on every page within the next half hour.” As she spoke, Sara walked to the door and wrenched it open. “On your way out, have Carol page Will for you.”
He paused in the doorway, his body a scant breath from hers. “We aren’t finished, Sara.”
“No, we aren’t. The judge made sure of that.” Sara deliberately ignored any other possible meaning for his words.
“Hide behind Will for now if you like, but you know that we’ll have to confront this thing between us sooner or later.”
“Right now, all I want is that website fixed.”
“Fine, I’ll talk to him. Then we’ll discuss Will’s next job assignment over dinner.”
“I have work—” The door closed, cutting off Sara’s protest. Furious, she marched from door to desk and back. She glared at the knob and locked it. Let him try to have dinner through a locked door. Satisfied that she’d finally get what she wanted, she returned to her work.
Many hours later, Sara leaned back and rubbed a weary hand across her eyes. She needed a break, but Josh was camped outside her office door. If she went out there, he’d sweep her away to dinner, and she’d never get tonight’s work done.
She stood, stretched, and headed for the coffeemaker. Josh had been amazingly patient since rattling her doorknob a few hours ago.Damn.The pot held nothing but dregs, and she’d have to leave the office to get water.
Well, she was strong. She could tough this out. She survived sharing territory with bears in Alaska. She could survive having a McKinley on her turf. Coffee would simply make it easier.
At that precise moment, the heavenly aroma of barbecued beef lassoed her stomach and pulled, then the offended organ grumbled in protest. She needed more than a break; she needed food. How long had it been since she’d eaten? She couldn’t recall.
Her mouth watered. All the Carson’s employees had gone home long ago.Josh.That dirty, low-down, varmint. He’d brought dinner in, without asking her if he could use her dealership as a diner. She’d just go tell him to get out and confiscate some food while she did it.
Prepared to do battle, she flung the door wide—and stopped cold.
