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  Her gaze dropped to the clean, spacious surface of the desk. “I, um...” She cleared her throat. “Most of my belongings are in storage, as I said. I wasn’t exactly sure where you would have space for me,” she finished.

  Her hesitation and obvious scramble for a valid reason irritated him as much as the lack of personal details. There must be someone else in her life, another man she didn’t want him to know about.

  “Has your working routine changed?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I remember you being single-minded at the office. I’ll keep up with you during office hours and personalize the space on my own time.”

  He deserved the polite pushback. Maybe it had been too long since he’d had a serious employee in this role. He gave in and pressed his fingers to the tension in his neck. “You’re right. That hasn’t changed.” When he dug into a project, he didn’t stop until he could call it done and perfect. With plenty of tasks here at the office, she didn’t need to know he’d labeled her his next primary mission.

  “Shall we?” She tilted her head, her hair swaying over her shoulder. He wanted to believe she’d left it down today for him.

  “Sure.” He led her into his office and switched on the privacy glass. This time he moved to his desk. “Would you rather have pen and paper or an electronic tablet?” he asked. He’d anticipated her answer, torturing himself with another round of the mental game of how well he knew her.

  “Tablet, please.”

  A point for him, he thought, handing her the device. “It’s preloaded for Gray Box employees with typical apps, and a guest username and password.” He gave her those details. “You can personalize it—”

  “On my own time,” she finished his sentence with a bright smile.

  Frustration rode him hard that she could so effectively behave as if they’d never been more than friends. “Did you sleep well last night?”

  She did a double take. “Yes, thank you.”

  “Good.” Wrenching his mind away from the last time he’d seen her in that king-size bed, her dark hair spilling over the white linens, he started to explain how he set his calendar when his office door opened.

  He stood up, stifling an oath as Trisha sauntered in, her long legs quickly devouring the distance until she was pressed against him in a hug far too personal for the office. “The privacy glass is on,” he said, barely keeping his irritation at bay.

  She flicked that away with her white-tipped fingernails. “Oh, I know that doesn’t apply to me, darling.” Her gaze raked over Lucy, that calculating smile in full force.

  “Trisha, let me introduce Lucy Gaines. She’ll be taking over as my personal assistant.”

  He shouldn’t have been surprised by Lucy’s gracious and warm greeting. Trisha, conversely, was clearly put out. He’d been sure they’d settled this privately.

  “A pleasure,” Trisha replied.

  He nudged Trisha back a step, closer to the door. They’d discussed the camp locations and her move to marketing following last night’s dinner at the mayor’s house. He refused to allow her to throw a fit here after being so accommodating last night. Her goals of becoming a Mrs. CEO aside, she knew he didn’t do personal drama.

  “I just need a minute with Rush,” Trisha said to Lucy in a tone so sweet his teeth ached. “If you’ll excuse us.”

  “Of course,” Lucy replied. “HR just sent me a text message,” she added, raising the tablet. “I’ll be back as soon as you’re ready for me.”

  He watched Lucy depart, exemplifying the discretion of a valuable PA. “The privacy glass was on, Trisha.” It was the safest thing he could say.

  “I noticed. Moving me to marketing is bad enough,” she pouted. “I only came up here to get my Rush for the day.” Her fingers trailed along his shirt collar as she giggled over her pun.

  “Trisha.” He sank into his chair and held her back when she tried to perch on his knee. “You have a communications degree.”

  She fluttered her eyelashes at him, waiting expectantly for him to continue.

  “Marketing is lucky to have you. You knew that desk outside my office wasn’t permanent.”

  The flirty maneuvers ceased instantly. “Who is she, Rush?”

  How could he safely answer? “A colleague,” he hedged. “She has connections I need to secure some key contracts for us.”

  “Us has a nice ring to it.” She tried to capture his hand with hers.

  He’d meant it as a company-wide us. An unwelcome image of Trisha’s “Mrs.” doodles flashed through his mind. He resented that he’d have to speak with her about that later, not on company time. “Go have a terrific first day with the marketing team.”

  “Okay.” She bent to kiss him, taking her time so he had a good view of her cleavage. Rush turned and she caught his cheek. Standing tall, she studied him for a long minute before her expression cleared. “Don’t work too hard,” she said, sashaying out the door.

  When the door closed behind her, Rush used a remote at his desk to lock it. He needed a few minutes to get his head on straight. He might have more expertise with technology—and with good reason—but Trisha’s possessive signals were inappropriate. Their deal had been for her to be affectionate in public. She’d never pulled a stunt like this at the office. Hearing Melva’s warnings in his head, he wished there was a way to convince the older woman to set Trisha straight on his behalf.

  He nearly laughed. Melva managing his personal mistakes was less likely than him making any woman a Mrs. Grayson. Between the bad example of his past and his big vision for the future, he wasn’t cut out for a conventional marriage and the baggage that came along with it.

  He’d packed away the ugliness of his childhood at sixteen, when he’d been busted for hacking, yet those images slid through his mind now. Countless fights over money had ended with slamming doors and his mother’s tears, and nothing ever changed. The overtime and weekend shifts, the incessant nagging had divided his parents and pushed Rush deeper into the unfailing logic of computers and code.

  People talked about the concept of love as if it was tangible, but he’d never been able to see it. Most people didn’t see the programs and code powering their lives, but that was real; it drove operations and made a difference. He sure as hell had never seen love function enough to help anyone. Actions made a difference. Love was just another cheap word.

  Lucy had been the one woman who’d made him reconsider life as a permanent bachelor. Strong-willed and independent, she’d accepted him as he was. She’d given him space to think and work, and she didn’t complain if he interrupted a kiss to jot down an idea. She’d agreed with his assessment that messy emotions ruined a great sexual relationship.

  He wanted to reclaim that magic. Surely he could find a way to make her want him again, too. More than his lust for her body, he valued her partnership, affection and unconditional understanding. He didn’t believe anyone else could give her the same devotion and satisfaction.

  * * *

  ARMED WITH HER TABLET, Lucy left the executive floor and headed downstairs to HR while Rush shared a private moment with Trisha. The tabloids hadn’t done the woman justice, amping up the glam and minimizing the shark factor.

  In those few seconds, Rush’s girlfriend had painted a clear picture about how they spent time out of the office. Lucy chided herself for letting that little scene bother her. Since she still cared for the man and wanted what was best for him, shouldn’t his happiness make her happy, too?

  She had no right to feel hurt or cast aside by Rush. She’d made the decision to leave him after he’d kept her waiting at a restaurant one too many times. A little voice in her head wondered if he was more careful with personal endeavors now. Based on the evidence Trisha presented, it seemed so.

  Lucy shook off the misplaced jealousy. She wouldn’t be here long—she only had today and four more to satisfy Kathrein’s demands—but she wanted the office staff to know she had the brains to do the job right. Bein
g lumped into the same category as his recent arm-candy assistant would crush her pride.

  Keeping a low profile was smarter, yet the more she knew about the office and staff, the better her chances of getting the information for Kathrein. Last night she’d made too many incorrect attempts on the journalist’s Gray Box and the system had locked her out. She’d painted herself into a corner and had to hope she could break in through a weakness on the administration side.

  Having checked in with HR, she stopped by the other departments, all except marketing. Lucy asked several questions of the small team dedicated to providing tech support to the office. At the encouragement of the department manager, she took a plate of holiday snacks back upstairs to Melva.

  When she returned to the executive floor, Rush’s office was still frosted with the privacy glass. All the details he’d implemented or invented to make this building state-of-the-art impressed her. Under different circumstances, working here—in a capacity other than his assistant—might well have been her dream job.

  Melva hopped up the minute she saw the covered plate. “Is that from Joey in IT?”

  Lucy nodded, smiling through another wave of sadness. Melva would be disappointed in her when the deception was exposed.

  “That boy loves me, praise God. Have you had a taste?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Well, bring over a chair and prepare for addiction.”

  Melva peeled back the plastic wrap covering the plate and they dug into the sweet, colorful holiday treats while Melva walked Lucy through the corporate calendar program and explained how Rush typically scheduled his time. She blotted her lips with a napkin. “I’ll introduce you to the others since his highness is still tied up,” Melva said.

  An unwelcome image of Rush tied up and defenseless against Trisha’s blatant sexuality popped into Lucy’s mind. Her cheeks heated, remembering the first time they’d played with blindfolds and handcuffs in what had been a phenomenal night of pleasure.

  “You don’t need to worry that they’ll write you off as another useless Trisha,” Melva was saying. “They’ll see you for who you are.”

  Just like old times, Melva could read her mind. This time, Lucy hoped the older woman was wrong. She was here to crack open a Gray Box, and if word of that breach got out the company would suffer.

  But was there any way of doing what she had to do without the world finding out?

  Don’t think about the consequences. Do what you have to do.

  Melva introduced her to the chief financial officer, Ken Lawrence, as well as Torry Harrison, currently the vice president of research and development. She shook hands with both men, silently commending Rush for acquiring superb talent.

  “I know who you are,” Torry said, a smile wreathing his face. “Rush used to quote you all the time in meetings.”

  Lucy blushed for a far more appropriate reason this time. “He mentioned you and your innovative outlook during a lecture when I was in grad school. It’s a pleasure to finally put a face to the name.” After Gray Box had locked her out last night, she’d spent the rest of her evening reading up on all of the senior staff, telling herself that was what any responsible assistant would do.

  “Will you join Rush at the fund-raiser tonight?” Ken asked.

  “Oh, I haven’t heard about that yet,” she replied, glancing at Melva for help.

  “Rush adopted the children’s hospital expansion as a pet project.” Melva fanned her face. “He booked the Palace,” she finished with a reverent whisper.

  “That sounds lovely,” Lucy said. She could imagine the glamour of Trisha and Rush emerging from a limo and strolling through the indulgent grandeur of the restored building.

  “The open bar is the real perk,” Torry joked. “As his new assistant, you should be there. Everyone else from Gray Box is going. The place is sure to be packed with people who might be assets or allies in the future. You could network and lay some groundwork. My wife and I can pick you up.”

  She floundered for a polite excuse, knowing she didn’t have suitable formal wear with her or the time to shop. On top of that, with someone tailing her for Kathrein, she didn’t dare do anything he might interpret as wasting time.

  “Stop it, Torry. He’s being ornery,” Melva interjected. “He just wants to one-up Rush and arrive in style with two beautiful women.”

  Lucy laughed. “I think I’ll have to pass tonight. Maybe next year.” If everyone was going, she’d have the office to herself. It was the opening she needed.

  “What would be even better,” Torry said, “is getting your opinion on our latest ideas.”

  She caught Melva’s encouraging smile. “Why me?” Lucy asked. “I don’t even have a full day to my credit yet.” She didn’t want to like everyone so much. Even Trisha had the singular redeeming quality of marking Rush as off-limits—something Lucy needed to keep at the front of her mind.

  “As I said, Rush talked about you a great deal. I think your perspective on this is just what I need to clarify our branding.”

  Her tablet chimed and she saw a message from Rush that he was ready for her again. “Can I take a rain check? The boss is calling.”

  “The man has a sixth sense.” Torry shrugged, shooting her a wry smile. “Come see me this afternoon if he gives you some breathing space.”

  “Sure thing.” Lucy hurried away and gave Rush a quick wave through the clear glass as she approached.

  “I appreciate your patience,” Rush said as she resumed her place in one of the chairs in front of his big desk. “Trisha—”

  She cut him off. “You don’t have to explain a thing.” She couldn’t handle any details. If Rush claimed nothing was going on between him and Trisha, Lucy’s hormones would wreck her concentration, and if he said things were serious between them she’d be heartbroken all over again. “My job is to assist you and that means adjusting my schedule to yours.”

  “Okay.” He pushed up the sleeves of his black sweater. “What did Torry have to say?”

  “Oh.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “Melva made introductions,” she said. “He mentioned the fund-raiser tonight.”

  Rush rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”

  “I noticed it isn’t on your calendar.”

  “I tend to leave off the events I don’t want to attend,” he admitted. “Especially those scheduled for after hours.”

  “That kind of habit makes it easy to overbook you.” She typed it into the calendar and he groaned when it appeared on his computer monitor. “Melva says this fund-raiser is important to you. A new pet project—her words. Why don’t you want to go?”

  “I have a new project on my mind, but I do need to be there tonight,” he finished. “Now, are we all synced up?”

  She reviewed the calendar on her tablet. “I guess we’ll find out over the next few days.” Despite the fact that he was a recluse, it had taken her almost a week to get all of Kathrein’s appointments organized so everyone in the household and office knew what was happening. Although he rarely traveled, people frequently came to his estate or sought meetings by video conference.

  Rarely traveled. Her mind stuck on that one point. Kathrein had sent those pictures to torture her, but also to prove he had Jackson. It was a stretch to think he’d separated mother and son. That meant he had to be holding them somewhere close to his house. Or not. Kathrein had three properties she knew of in Europe and she had to assume he had more hideaways scattered around the globe. With his private jet, he could be anywhere and move his hostages at any moment.

  “Lucy?”

  “Hmm?” She yanked her attention back to the far-more-handsome billionaire in front of her. “Yes, we’re synced up. Sorry, my mind wandered.”

  “Nowhere pleasant,” Rush observed. “All that tension is back. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She smiled so fast she thought her face might split. “Of course. Yesterday you outlined responsibilities that went beyond calendar management and screening your calls. Can you
tell me why the phone at my desk doesn’t ring?”

  He cleared his throat. “Melva is in the habit of handling the calls.”

  “She and I can make that change right away. What about the other items?”

  He smiled, but there was a weary regret in his eyes. “Tomorrow. Talk with Melva about the calls and go ahead and chat with Torry. He could use your insight.”

  “All right.” She was at the door when he stopped her with one more order.

  “And put something personal on your desk by the end of the day.”

  He’d practically growled the demand and her body reacted with a fervent sizzle. She turned and gave him a cheery smile, hiding the reaction. “You’re the boss.”

  Chapter Five

  Rush had better things to do than watch Lucy work through the glass that separated their offices. Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep his mind on any of them. More than once he’d reached for the switch to apply the privacy glass and couldn’t do it. Having her back, having her right there within view—if not quite within reach—played havoc with his mind.

  Only a fool would be distracted with the worry that she’d disappear again if he took his eyes off her, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that her return wasn’t permanent.

  It was their ugly history, he told himself more than once as the day wore on. His bruised pride over the way she’d left him before. He was competitive and he’d lost her. The failure didn’t sit well.

  A message window popped up in the corner of his desk monitor. It was a direct message from Sam in the security department asking Rush to trek down to the basement for a meeting.

  Irritable, he glanced again toward Lucy’s desk. Her computer had been delivered and he knew she was getting up to speed with the company systems. She’d apparently ignored his instruction to personalize her space. Would it be a picture of her sister and nephew or maybe a trinket from France? God help him if she put up a picture of herself with another man.

  He stood, took two steps toward Lucy and then abruptly turned on his heel, choosing to use his private access to get downstairs. He had a company to run and yet he’d spent last night searching every possible media outlet for some new detail on Lucy’s personal life. The fact that she’d worked with an aging recluse didn’t help his cause. He had no problem using his substantial resources to keep tabs on her, but it was aggravating that she’d managed to keep her personal life a secret. He’d never figure out how to win her back if he didn’t know who else was on the playing field.