Losing Control - By Robyn Grady Page 0,16

and ask.

Giving in to a grin, he shot onto the expressway.

Hell, he just might ask anyway.
Chapter Six
"Thought I'd warn you. The boss is on the warpath."

Yanked from her thoughts by that familiar Brit voice, Taryn glanced up to find Roman Lyons poking his head into her office. She lowered her pen to her desk.

"Guthrie?"

"No. The younger Mr. Hunter. Grapevine says he's headed this way."

Sending a fortifying wink, Rowan bowed off for the relative safety of his own office while, holding her swooping stomach, Taryn siphoned down a breath.

Remarkably, after the wine incident last night, she and Cole had parted on amicable terms. Back here to collect her car, once again she'd offered to pay his laundry bill. Cole had declined then had said in a low sure voice that they'd talk more tomorrow. Well, tomorrow was here and, unlike her normal self, Taryn was positively shaky.

Discussing recipes on the drive back from the restaurant, she'd given the impression that she'd regained her customary cool, but remaining composed whenever Cole Hunter was around was more difficult than killing a blaze with a thimble of water. She'd barely slept for planning how best to handle this, their next meeting. Tossing and turning, she'd imagined a score of different scenarios, and each dreamed-up conversation had included her witty but also upbeat remarks. She'd decided. She wasn't throwing in the towel just yet.

Now every one of those let's-try-to-get-along phrases flew like buckshot from her mind as Cole's larger-than-life self strode into the room. This morning he looked broader, darker and, dammit, hotter than any man had a right...like an almighty tropical storm rolling in from the sea. Pressing back into her chair, Taryn quivered and spoke before she thought.

"You're always doing that."

"Doing what?"

"Thundering around."

The black slashes of his brows hiked up. "Well, good morning to you, too."

Taryn bit her lip to stop from telling him not to look at her that way - as if she was hard work when, in fact, she only wanted to get along and move forward. But, no matter how he pressed her buttons - and he seemed to press every one - her survival here at Hunters depended on making a monumental effort. Which meant reclaiming her biggest asset - her poise - and being hospitable as well as professional. In other words, she needed to present herself the way she would in any person's company other than the Commander's.

Willing her locked muscles to relax, Taryn resumed her calm and asked, "Have you had breakfast?" She reached for a food container, which waited strategically on her desk, and pried back the plastic lid. "Scones," she told him. "Homemade fresh this morning."

Curious, he craned to see. "Is there pumpkin involved?"

"But no pine nuts." She found her feet. "I was about to pour a coffee. Want one? I brought in my own percolator. I'm more your slow, full, satisfying type than an instant kind of girl."

"Slow and satisfying. Who'd have guessed?"

On her way to the percolator, she stopped and caught his look. But her comment wasn't meant to be provocative. She'd been talking about hot drinks, for God's sake, not sex. Before she could qualify or downplay her remark, Cole went on.

"So you've made yourself at home," he said, looking around.

She burned to say, And why not? This was her office until Guthrie said otherwise. Which reminded her.

She lifted the pot. "Have you spoken to your father yet?"

"I haven't been able to track him down this morning."

"He's off the station?"

"I have no idea where he is."

China cup full, she glanced over and was taken aback. Cole's assured expression had been replaced by a mask of worry. She hadn't thought he had any vulnerabilities, or none that he'd be prepared to show. Maybe it was inappropriate, but she wanted to ask him what was wrong.

But then that expression evaporated and, drawing himself up tall, he told her, "No coffee, thanks. And no scones."

Before he could say anything more - like, for instance, "I'm only here to tell you to pack your stuff and shove off" - Taryn revved her "perfect employee" enthusiasm back up to high.

"I've been going through my notes again, making phone calls. I'd like to do a full survey of Hot Spots' first destination."

"Why would I approve a survey when I haven't approved the show?"

"Because you have nothing to lose. I'll pay for airfares. Accommodation is sorted, no cost."

"And who do you propose to take along with you on this survey - if I approve?"

"I don't need anyone