He picked up his jacket and shrugged into it. Straightening the collar and lapels, he looked at her and oh God, she saw concern in his eyes.
Concern. So close to sympathy.
To pity.
"I'll see you at work later?"
She lifted her chin, and forced herself to speak past the knot in her throat.
"Sure. I may be a little late because-"
"Doesn't matter," he interrupted. "Take your time. In fact, take the morning off. Come in this afternoon."
He was in no hurry to face her at work, was he? "Fine. I'll see you later."
He nodded and looked for a second as if he wanted to say something more.
Thankfully he thought better of it and walked away. When he left the apartment, he closed the door quietly behind him. And Rachel was alone.
Again.
Shane tried to keep his mind on the job, but it wasn't easy. For one thing, every time he passed Rachel's empty desk, he remembered why she wasn't there.
Of course, if she had been there, it would have been even harder to walk past her desk. What an idiot he was. What had he been thinking?
He hadn't been thinking at all. Just reacting. To some really incredible feelings. To the press of Rachel's mouth to his. To the rush of holding her in his arms. He muttered an oath, pushed one hand through his hair and told himself to stop remembering. To stop reliving those hours with her.
He might as well take a vow to not breathe.
Restless, Shane pushed away from his desk and turned to stare out the windows.
Snow was still falling, with more predicted. On the street far below him, people were rushing down sidewalks, oblivious to the cold. Twinkling lights lined the storefronts and he imagined the street corner Santas were doing a booming business.
It was the end of a long year. His family was closer than they'd ever been and he'd earned the CEO position at the company. By rights, he should be celebrating right now. Instead he felt as though he'd lost something important.
"Crisis! Crisis!"
Shane spun around to face Jonathon Taylor as he gave a perfunctory knock and hustled into the office. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, only the end of my Fourth of July spectacular, that's all." Jonathon lifted both hands dramatically into the air before letting them fall to his sides again.
Good. Business. A chance to concentrate on something besides Rachel. Folding his arms across his chest, Shane watched as the other man paced frenetically around the office. "What happened?"
"My queen," Jonathon moaned theatrically, "my star of the issue-Leticia Baldwin-"
"Ah … " Shane walked back to his desk and sat down. Letty Baldwin, the latest of America's sweethearts. A young actress with talent as well as beauty. "She won't do the article?"
"Oh, she'll do it," Jonathon pouted as he dropped into the chair opposite Shane's desk. "But she's going to be seven months pregnant when it's time to do the photo shoot. Can't exactly use the red, white and blue bikini theme I had in mind. This is just a disaster, Shane. She was my centerpiece. My star. My-"
"-queen, yeah I get it."
He slumped lower in his chair, his spine becoming an overcooked noodle. "I'm shattered."
Shane laughed.
Jonathon glowered at him. "I'm so happy to amuse you."
"Sorry," Shane said, lifting both hands to appease his friend. "It's just that I really needed this little crisis of yours, that's all."
"At least one of us is happy."
"Jon," Shane said, leaning back in his chair, "does Letty Baldwin still want to do the issue?"
"Oh, definitely. Her agent's convinced her that it would be good exposure. And it would, of course."
"Then do it now."
"What?"
"The photo shoot," Shane said slowly, patiently. "Set it up with Ferria and Letty's people. Do the shoot now and just sit on the pictures until the issue's ready to go to press."
Jonathon's features smoothed out as he thought about it. "We could, couldn't we?"
"As long as she agrees, I don't see why not."
"Sandy will throw a fit," Jonathon mused, and seemed to enjoy the idea. "She's already shrieking over the expenses for this quarter."
"I'll handle Sandy," Shane assured him, making a mental note to call his managing editor and smooth over any ruffled feathers.
"Brilliant," Jonathon shouted and bounded from his chair, rubbing his palms together. "This, my king, is why you're in charge."
As Jonathon left, Shane could only wish that all of his problems were so easily solved.
Chapter 6
Rachel carried a cup of coffee into Shane's office and braced herself before meeting his gaze. She needn't have worried. After stalling around for three hours, she'd finally come into work, only to be so busy she hadn't had to face Shane all afternoon.
Until now.
Every day at four-thirty, he had a cup of coffee while going over the day's reports, bringing himself up to speed on the different divisions and setting up appointments for the following day. It was a routine. One she'd long since become familiar with.
In fact, over the last few years, she'd come to enjoy this last half hour of the workday. It gave her a chance to relax with a man she both loved and liked. Of course, today there'd be no relaxing.
She felt as though every nerve in her body was strung tight and plugged into an electrical outlet.
He looked up as she entered and gave her a distracted smile. "Come on in, Rachel."
She carried the cup of coffee to him and set it down on his desk. Tension arced between them with all the dazzling light and power of a lightning strike. She could almost hear the sizzle in the air.
"How are you?"
"I'm fine, Shane," she said, lying through her teeth. But damned if she'd slink around the office. "And you?"
He reached for the coffee cup, but instead of picking it up, he trailed the tips of his long fingers over the curved handle. Rachel's gaze locked on the movement, and in an instant, her body lit up as she remembered the feel of those fingers on her skin.
Okay, this was going to be a touch more difficult than she'd thought.
"Worried," he said finally and she shifted her gaze to his.
"About … ?"
He scowled at her. "About us, Rachel. About our working relationship."
She felt a warm flush of embarrassment move through her and she could only hope it wasn't blazing on her face. This was so not fair. She'd dreamed about Shane for over a year, had imagined what a night with him would be like. And now those dreams had become nightmares.
All she had left was her pride and she was going to cling to it with everything she had. "Our working relationship doesn't have to change at all, Shane," she said and hoped to heaven she sounded more sure than she felt.
"Is that right?" He stood up, pushed the edges of his suit jacket back and shoved both hands into his slacks pockets. "So, everything is normal."
"That's right."
"Then why haven't you ragged on me once about work?"
"Excuse me?"
"Normally you'd have come in here carrying that memo pad that's practically stapled to your hand," he pointed out. "And you'd be reading me the list of meetings to go to, warning me about which ones I couldn't duck. Any other day, you'd be standing there telling me who to call, when to do it and what to say."
Rachel sniffed, a little irritated that he knew her so well. But then, they were a team, weren't they? A well-oiled machine. It wasn't his fault that she'd fallen in love with him and changed everything. "I'm so very sorry. I had no idea I was that bossy."
He pulled one hand free of his pockets and waved at her. "Bull. Of course you did." He came around the edge of his desk and started toward her. But he stopped a few steps short, as if he couldn't quite trust himself to get too close.
Oh, you're dreaming girl, she told herself. It was probably more like he was afraid his too aggressive assistant would jump his bones again if he wandered too near.
God help her, he was probably right.
"But that's why we've always worked together so well," he was saying and Rachel shut down her brain and opened her ears. "You keep me focused on the job and I give you somebody to nag."
"Very nice," she muttered.
"And now it's ruined," he snapped.
"Maybe that's for the best."
"Like hell it is," Shane said grimly. "How the hell can I get anything done when I can damn well feel the tension between us?"
Okay, she'd made up her mind earlier to be aloof. Distant. To do what she could to pretend that last night had never happened. But now that Shane had pried the lid off this particular can of worms, why should she try to jam the lid back on?