Eclipse of the Heart - By Carly Carson Page 0,9

a woman for her hairstyle. Instead, he imagined pulling out whatever pins were holding it in place, and shaking it down so it looked like he wanted it to look. And fell where he wanted it to fall. Like on his stomach, and points further south.

But he was smart enough to know she didn’t want to hear that. A mistake had been made, and he had offended her.

He tried for a soothing tone. "I see that you dressed in an appropriate manner for a business job interview."

"Then what were you thinking?"

He shrugged. "I thought you’d tried to be different. Since I found you quite enticing, I didn’t question your outfit."

"Don’t talk to me like that!"

He raised his eyebrows.

"You know what I mean!"

He grinned, unable to help himself. She was like a swan, hissing and fluttering her wings, none of which detracted from her underlying graciousness.

"I think," he said calmly, "that we need to find a way to move forward from this misunderstanding, without spending more time lingering on the past and pointing fingers."

"You don’t understand!" Her eyes darkened. "I needed that job. I was so happy when I thought I’d found a way to get Julie the treatment…" The flow of words halted abruptly, she swallowed, and he saw the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes.

He turned away. If she began crying, the discussion was over.

But it seemed she understood his refusal to deal with tears, or she was able to check her emotion.

"You’re right," she said. "This whole discussion is pointless. A mistake was made. Let’s leave it at that."

She grabbed her purse and headed for the bedroom. "I’ll be out of here in fifteen minutes."

"There's a storm out there," Logan said. "There won't be any flights leaving Chicago tonight."

"I can find another hotel."

He picked up the receiver of the hotel phone and dialed the front desk. "I need another room tonight," he said. "No, I'll keep this suite as well. Please send up a bellman."

He hung up. "That problem has been resolved. Now can we proceed?"

She eyed him warily and he almost smiled as he watched her wrestle with her conscience. She wanted to storm out. She needed the job. He knew what she'd decide in the end. But he didn't mind soothing her injured pride.

"Amanda. Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t leave here at this time of night."

"I’m ridiculous? Look at you, a grown man paying women for sex. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?"

"Why? It's a reasonable exchange. We each get what we want."

"Why don’t you want to be with women who enjoy you for your company?"

"The women I’m with give a fair imitation of enjoying my company, and I find that’s good enough for me."

"A pretense. Not even well-disguised."

"It’s nothing if not well-disguised. I use direct deposit."

"That’s not funny!" She turned back from her grand exit to glare at him. "It’s disgusting."

"I think that’s enough talk about my lack of morals." Damn, why was he tolerating any of this nonsense? Did he want her that badly? He watched her as she wrestled with indecision. She would be mortified if she knew how accurately he could read her. Her pride demanded that she storm out. But her practical nature knew that his job, if she could salvage it, was the best offer she'd get.

He gestured toward the table. "Why don’t we sit down and see if we can move forward."

"There is nowhere to go with this discussion."

"Sit." He pointed at a chair by the glass table and pulled out one for himself.

"Are you always this bossy?" she demanded.

"Are you always this stubborn?"

"I have no intention of serving as your whore." She remained standing, her shoulders stiff with defiance, her hands clenched on the back of the chair, as if afraid she’d pull it out and sit down.

"Believe it or not, my ego is sufficiently modest that I can accept that." He nodded at the chair. "So, if we table that idea, will you sit down?"

"Fine." She yanked out the chair and dropped into it.

"Now, the way I see it is this. You need a job and you need health insurance for your sister."

She gave a jerky nod.

"The job you came to interview for has not been filled. Would you care to start over with that interview?"

"Are you serious?"

"You were screened by the O'Brien Agency, correct?"

"Yes." She frowned at the table top. "Now I know why you didn't have any questions for me." More than a trace of bitterness still laced her tone.

"We're starting over," he repeated patiently.