Her Not-So-Secret Diary(3)

At the entrance, she fiddled with the collar of her white blouse,  ensuring all but the top button was secure. She'd scrunched her thick  long hair into a clasp at the back of her head.

She smiled a good morning to the security guy unlocking the door as she  withdrew her swipe card from the pocket in the side of her bag and kept  moving-not too fast so as to draw attention to herself-to the elevators.

A moment later she stepped out into the hushed Sanderson offices.  Quickly skirting the main reception area, she crossed the oblique  sun-striped carpet to Pam's desk, then slipped her handbag into the desk  drawer.

The room was empty, still and so quiet she could hear the ocean's  eternal shoosh beyond the thick glass windows. And the guilty echo of  her pulse.

The swipe card gave her access to the Inner Sanctum but she'd not had a  reason to enter yesterday. Today, however …  Pushing the door open, she  registered nothing beyond the scent of leather and electronics as she  swooped on the only thing that mattered right now. His desk was L-shaped  and the computer was positioned against the wall, which meant if he  turned up she'd see him to her left.                       
       
           



       

She switched the machine on. Waited on a knife's edge. Because her legs  were shaky, she barely hesitated before she sat down on his wide leather  chair and rolled it forward. The faint fragrance of sandalwood met her  nostrils, a heart-stopping reminder that this was a gross invasion of  his privacy. She tapped in the password Pam had given her. The email  icon appeared, she clicked on it, waiting, barely breathing while the  messages rolled down the screen. There. Her email. Flagged as unread.

A noise, part sob, part laugh, mostly relief, escaped her as with two  swift clicks she deleted the email permanently. Done. Simple.

She leaned back, blew out a long slow breath while her heart continued  to thump like crazy against her ribs. I.T. security never audited  executive email. Did they? She would not think about that now. She hit  the keyboard and brought his day's agenda up on screen. All she had to  do was slip back to her desk and no one would-

'Good morning.' The deep masculine voice steamrolled over her senses like steel wrapped in black velvet.

She couldn't have leapt out of the chair quicker if she'd been shot at.  Her mind scrambled for words-any words-but to her mortification all that  came out was the sound of air rushing past her tonsils.

She got an impression of height, power and stunning sexuality while a  pair of enigmatic olive-green eyes studied her. And her stomach dropped  to her professional, low-heeled, slingback shoes.

'Ms Buchanan, I presume?'





CHAPTER TWO




HOW long had he been standing there?

'Yes …  Ah …  Sophie … ' she managed, two stuttering heartbeats later. 'Sophie Buchanan.'

And, oh … he was gorgeous, from the sun-bleached tips of his dark brown  hair to that clean-shaven jaw that looked strong enough to crack rocks  on. From the pressed white shirt and charcoal tie to the fresh  sandalwood soap scent winding through her senses. She didn't dare let  her gaze wander down the rest of him.

He was the kind of man that made you momentarily forget your own name  because you were too busy drawing breath and taking in the view.

For heaven's sake, you could be in serious trouble here, girl. Focus.  She dragged the scattered remnants of her business self together. 'Good  morning … Mr Sanderson … I was just … I've brought your agenda … up.' Then, as  if she hadn't just been hacking into his computer without his knowledge,  she walked smartly around from behind his desk, stuck out her hand.  Smiled. And, for once, thanked the genes that had bestowed her with a  five-feet-ten height advantage-but still it wasn't enough because this  man was at least six feet two. 'I'm looking forward to working with you  today.'

His firm unyielding palm met hers-an instant zap-and she had to force  herself not to think about the way he'd palmed her breasts in her dream  last night.

Because nothing surer, this was that guy.

And that was bad. Very bad. She didn't want her dream lover spilling  into her working life and she needed every day's employment she could  get. How was she going to face him all day today and not remember how it  felt to be made mad, passionate and sizzling love to? And more  importantly, not to let it show?

At least he didn't know. He couldn't …  Or did he? One corner of his mouth  stretched into some semblance of a smile but the eyes … there was a lot  going on behind those shadowed green eyes …

'Call me Jared,' he said, still imprisoning her hand within his large firm grip. 'We keep things informal around here.'

Yes, very informal. Smile still frozen in place, she tugged her fingers  from his grasp, clasped her tingling hand at her side and reminded  herself that he hadn't bothered to introduce himself yesterday. 'Right.  Jared-' She practically bit off the word and pressed her lips together.  She had not just moaned his name the way she had last night, but guilty  heat streaked into her cheeks anyway. He was only speaking to her now  because she was in his office.

To delete an email from his computer.

The screen of which he was studying, brows lowered. Against her will,  her eyes flicked there too, to make sure the file hadn't somehow popped  up again. When she looked back at him he was studying her with that same  inscrutable expression.

He seemed to shake it away and said, 'I apologise for missing you  yesterday, I had to rush off. My sister went into labour and her husband  was unavoidably detained. I trust Mimi looked after you?'

The receptionist. 'Yes, she did.' Sophie instantly forgave him for  yesterday's lapse. How many guys were so involved with their sisters  that they'd rush off to be with them during labour? Unlike her brother,  who'd not contacted her since he'd escaped the hell that was their home  and moved to Melbourne years ago.                       
       
           



       

'Did everything go okay?' she said, relieved to have something other  than that dreaded email and the sexual buzz that seemed to surround them  to focus on. 'What did she have?'

His eyes warmed and, oh, my, he had the most disarmingly crooked grin  that kind of creased his left cheek and threatened to buckle her knees.

'Everything went great.' If he'd been the father he couldn't have  sounded more delighted. 'It's a girl. Arabella. Three and a half kilos  or seven pounds seven ounces in the old money.'

'Wonderful. Lovely name.' She paused. 'So I guess you were busy last  night, then. Celebrating?' Far too busy to catch up on boring old  matters such as emails from the office.

He looked at her with an unsettling directness, as if he'd heard her  thoughts. Indeed, as if he knew what she'd been enjoying last night,  with him. And more of that blood pumped into her cheeks.

He smiled again, that warmth back in his eyes. 'Melissa and I had a champagne or two.'

Melissa? He was involved. Sophie felt as if something had jabbed her  skin and left her deflating piece by piece. She had to force her  shoulders back and stand straight. Pam hadn't let her in on that little  snippet. She'd told her he didn't have time for relationships, his  family took precedence, that women were way down on his list, and, no,  he wasn't gay.

Sophie reminded herself quickly and sternly that it made no difference.  In fact it was good. Great. Men were off her agenda for life. And she  was going overseas in three weeks and five days.

She lifted her chin to demonstrate a confidence she was far from  feeling. 'I won't hold you up. I know you have an eight a.m. meeting in  Coolangatta.' Thank heavens. She could-

'No rush,' he said in that steel and velvet voice that both startled and enticed.

'I … ' She watched the way the muscles in his back shifted beneath the  smooth white cotton as he sank into his plush leather chair. Held her  breath and waited for her heart to stop while she watched his long  tanned fingers work the keyboard and …  Oh, dear …  Remembered those clever  fingers working on her body …  The sensation peppered her skin with  instant goose-bumps.

She shook the fantasy away. More important to worry about how long he'd  been watching her at his desk and what he'd seen. From her position, she  saw him click off his agenda and bring up his emails. Her stomach  tightened. Oh, no.

'Wouldn't want to miss anything important … ' He glanced sideways at her,  although how a glance could scour your eyes for every secret you'd ever  kept and last for eternity-

Prickly heat climbed up her neck and her hand rose un-steadily to play  with the button at her throat. 'I'll let you get on with it,' she said,  backing away before he decided to open his Deleted Items folder and  flash her private thoughts onto the screen and … she'd just die of  embarrassment. No, no, she reminded her stunned self, she'd deleted it  permanently. She was off the hook-