And she wondered…if she hadn’t been so rash and quick to damn him, could she have used her position to an advantage? He’d desired her; she could feel it coming across in waves. If she’d had any kind of sense, she could have used it as leverage of some sort…
But then Miranda snorted at herself. What did she know about leverage and all that kind of stuff? What did she know about men, period? She was twenty-five, not exactly a cherub, but far from experienced when it came to the male species. She didn’t even have a boyfriend. Not recently, anyway. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been on a proper date.
Miranda had never tried to “conform” herself with what others thought or said about her. She felt fine with her looks; she loved her full figure, and made sure she stayed fit and healthy without needed to go on a starvation regime just to fit in. She made sure she took care of her appearance, and knew that though she may never fit certain people’s mold of what was the ‘perfect’ shape or size, she was happy with herself.
Friends kept trying to hook her up, but Miranda had just not met anyone who could vaguely catch her interest.
That was why she’d been so unprepared with Jude Stone. He was far, far different from any of the guys in college she’d known. His charisma had a steel-sharp edge, one she knew could cut deep if she came too close.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen, she knew. Once she’d established who he was, any chance of a “dalliance” was totally scrapped – permanently.
Sighing deeply and telling herself she felt not a single twinge of regret, Miranda turned away from the window as the phone on her desk began to ring. It was Heather, her secretary.
“There’s a Carly Johnson here to see you. Should I let her in?”
The name didn’t sound familiar, and Miranda frowned. “Just what does she want?”
“She says she’s here on a private matter.” Heather paused, then added, “She’s Jude Stone’s personal assistant.”
Miranda blinked in surprise, and then tried to calm the now unsteady beat in her chest. Finally, she said calmly enough. “I’d like to see her. Send her in, Heather. Thank you.”
Miranda was seated behind her desk when the woman came into her office. She was lovely, slim and efficient-looking. She had a small smile on her face as she held a folder in her hand. Miranda took note of the wedding finger on her left hand, and wondered why she would be conscious of a detail like that. Jude Stone had a very pretty, attractive-looking female personal assistant – who was married. For some reason, that seemed like an interesting point to ponder.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet me, Miss Quinn,” the woman called Carly Johnson said with a charming smile as she took the seat Miranda indicated, in front of the desk.
“It was strictly out of curiosity, Miss Johnson,” Miranda said coolly. “Not courtesy. I simply want to find out what in the world I could have to do with Jude Stone’s personal assistant.”
“I’m here to make an offer, Miss Quinn,” Carly Johnson said, her smile still easy, full of charm. “And to discuss terms.”
“An offer? Terms?” Miranda huffed, sitting back in her chair. “I can’t imagine I understand what on earth you’re talking about.”
Carly’s eyes fell to the magazine placed on the desk in front of her, her smiling curving higher when she saw the face on the cover. And then she looked up shrewdly at Miranda, who had followed her gaze and seemed to grow slightly pink in the cheeks.
“For some reason, Miss Quinn, I think you do….”
***
“Hello, Miranda.”
He was standing there, at the table in the very prestigious restaurant, a slant in his smile. Miranda looked at him, and felt a strange pang. He looked no less devastating than that first night they’d met. If anything, he seemed all the more lethal now that there weren’t that many distractions around them, just the few other patrons in the ultra elegant restaurant.
“Jude,” she nodded slightly in return, clutching her small purse in front of her.
“You look ravishing,” he said deeply, his eyes never leaving hers for a moment. She swallowed imperceptibly. Why did she feel so many mixed emotions when he looked at her that way? She wanted, dearly needed, to loathe him. She wasn’t even supposed to be here.
But here she was, meeting Jude Stone. When his PA Carly had come to see her, Miranda had sworn to herself there could be nothing they could have to discuss. Turned out she was wrong.
“Thank you,” she said, all composure now as she took the seat held out by the hovering waiter. She remembered her inner vow back at the office when she’d agreed with Carly to meet him. Her plan was to come, listen to what he had to say, and then leave. There was no harm, she’d decided, in hearing him out.