Married to His Business / Six-Month Mistress: Married to His Business. Elizabeth Bevarly

on the best of terms. They hadn’t spoken to or seen each other since he’d had her escorted out of the building like a common thief. If he was here now, it had to be because he wanted something.

      So she asked him, “What do you want?”

      Matthias looked at Kendall and wondered which of dozens of answers to that question he should give her. He wanted a lot of things, actually. He wanted the Perkins contract. He wanted the Barton Limited stock to go through the roof. He wanted to be worth a billion dollars by the time he was forty. Hell, he even wanted world peace, since it would create so many new business-friendly governments. And, okay, he wanted a new personal assistant, too, since, so far, everyone he’d interviewed had been, at best, unqualified and, at worst, a lobotomy gone tragically wrong.

      Mostly, though, he wanted Kendall to open her eyes and see what was so obvious to him. Talk about a lobotomy. What had happened to the pragmatic, professional, enterprising, efficient woman he’d hired? Looking at Kendall now…

      Well, actually, looking at Kendall now, Matthias wondered what she’d done to herself. The dark blond hair she normally had twisted up out of her way hung loose, cascading past her shoulders in a thick, silky mass. Wow, it was a lot longer than he’d thought—not that he’d ever thought much about Kendall’s hair. But it was long. Thick. Silky. Had he mentioned silky? And long? And thick? Her glasses were gone, too, and he noted with some surprise that her eyes were huge without them. And green. He’d never noticed that Kendall had green eyes. Really green eyes. Pale green. Like bottle glass. And every bit as clear.

      “What do you want, Mr. Barton?” she asked again, bringing his thoughts back to where they needed to be.

      It was a good question, he thought. He wished he had a good answer to go with it. But the fact was, he still wasn’t sure why he was here. Yeah, her hotel was on his way, but even if it hadn’t been, he would have driven the extra miles to see her. He’d done a little checking this week—okay, he’d done a lot of snooping—to find out where Kendall would be staying and the particulars of this “week-long orientation.” But his mole at OmniTech—yes, Matthias had one there, just as he was sure DeGallo had one at Barton Limited—hadn’t been able to uncover much about it.

      Which had just hammered home to Matthias that the guy was up to no good. Had there been a legitimate orientation seminar going on, it would have been a matter of company record. As far as Matthias could tell, however, Kendall was the only new hire of any consequence that Stephen DeGallo had made recently. As he’d told her two weeks ago, the guy didn’t hire outside the company for the kind of position he’d offered her. And any alleged orientation there might have been for her position should have taken place on-site—not in a cozy, romantic little hotel overlooking Lake Tahoe.

      “I’ve come to offer you your job back,” he said, surprising himself as much as he’d obviously surprised Kendall. He really hadn’t been intending to do that at all when he drove into town. He’d just been planning to…

      Okay, he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been planning to do. But now that he thought more about it, offering Kendall her job back made sense. No one he’d interviewed had come close to matching her qualifications. Matthias was confident that if he made her the right offer, she’d come back on board. Everyone had their price. Kendall was no exception. She’d just been feeling unappreciated, he told himself. He hadn’t emphasized enough how valuable she was to Barton Limited. Oh, sure, he’d given her raises and more benefits. But any good employee needed ego stroking, too. Just because Kendall had never seemed like the kind of person who wanted that kind of thing didn’t mean it wasn’t important to her.

      He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought about that before. At least not consciously. Evidently his brain had been considering it subconsciously, to have thrown out the offer to hire her back. That was probably what had been behind Matthias’s driving into town to find her in the first place. He’d been planning—subconsciously—to renegotiate the terms of her employment and invite her back.

      Yeah, that was it. It had to be. Why else would he have come?

      Kendall, however, didn’t seem to be as open to the idea of her return to Barton Limited as Matthias was, because she didn’t answer him right away. In fact, she was looking at him as if she was kind of indignant.

      No, it must be grateful, he told himself immediately. Indignity, gratitude…those got mixed up all the time. They had a lot of the same letters in common. After all, why would she feel indignant?

      “I have a job,” she said tersely.

      Or maybe she’d said it sweetly. Those got mixed up a lot, too. Matthias was sure of it. The letter thing again.

      “And I’m very excited about it,” she added.

      No, definitely terse, he thought. And not a little shirty.

      Instead of replying, he strode across the room to the broad panoramic windows that looked out over the crystalline blue water of the lake and the bright blue sky above it. The day was glorious, the view crisp and clean, the dark green mountains on the other side of the water streaked with purple shadows from the forests of trees, the sun dappling the water as if it were scattering diamonds. This place was as far removed from the skyscrapers and concrete of San Francisco as it could be, and the last thing anyone should think about here was work. Which was why Matthias so seldom visited places like this. And which was why—one of many whys—he knew Stephen DeGallo was up to no good.

      He sensed more than heard Kendall as she came up behind him, and was unprepared for the feeling that washed over him when she came to a halt behind him. He’d been edgy since leaving San Francisco, as he always was when he traveled. Travel was such a waste of time, and Matthias was always impatient getting from point A to point B so he could get on with business. This time, however, the feeling hadn’t lessened once he’d arrived at his destination. He’d still been feeling anxious when he entered Kendall’s room. But when she stood beside him then, he was suddenly overcome by a feeling of calmness. Peacefulness. A strange sense of well-being that he hadn’t felt for…

      Well, a couple of weeks, anyway.

      She said nothing as she gazed out the window, only studied the same view Matthias was considering himself. But he knew there must be some part of her brain that was questioning DeGallo’s motives by now. She was a smart woman. She had good instincts. It was what made her so good at what she did.

      “Look at that view,” he said anyway, trivializing with a cliché what was a staggeringly beautiful piece of work. “You don’t see views like that in the city.” He turned to face Kendall before adding meaningfully, “Where most job orientations take place.”

      She slumped a little at the comment, expelling a tired-sounding sigh. But she said nothing to deny his more-than-obvious allegation.

      “And look at this room,” he said further, turning again and sweeping both arms open. “Who gets a place like this when they’re undergoing orientation for a new job?”

      Kendall sighed again, still sounding weary, but turned her body in the same direction as his. “New vice presidents for the company,” she told him. “That’s who. Stephen just wants to make a good impression, that’s all.”

      Matthias dipped his head in concession, however small, to that. Then he strode to the table where there sat a bouquet of flowers more massive than any man anywhere had ever sent to any woman for any reason—be it declaring his love or groveling for forgiveness. He plucked the card from a particularly luscious-looking bloom and began to open it.

      “Matthias, don’t—” Kendall began.

      He halted, snapping his head up at that, not because she had told him to stop, but because she had addressed him by his first name. Never, not once, during the five years she’d worked for him had she called him Matthias. Because never, not once, had he given her the okay to do it. And the fact that she had stepped over that line now so thoroughly, without his permission…

      Hmm. Actually, now that he’d heard her call him Matthias, he realized