Boardrooms of Power. Heidi Betts

pumps set off her shapely legs beneath her short skirt.

      The mere sight of her awakened every male need Connor had, but she had completely disregarded everything he’d said this morning.

      Quentin muttered a curse under his breath. “I suppose Celine let you come right in, didn’t she?”

      “Actually, your secretary stepped away from her desk right after letting it slip that you were meeting with Connor.” Connor watched as Allison’s eyes settled on him then, a disdainful look on her face. “I might have known you’d be here. Patting yourself on the back for a mission accomplished, are you?”

      He rose from his seat. “I’ll only feel a sense of accomplishment once we track down the guy who’s after you.” Sternly, he went on, “I thought I told you to stay put and that I’d pick you up from the office when you were ready to leave.”

      “Yes, I do recall you ordering me to stay put. What I don’t recall is my agreeing to it, especially since I have my dear sibling to thank for my new living arrangements.” She folded her arms and sat on the corner of Quentin’s desk, glancing back at her brother, who merely raised an eyebrow inquiringly at her.

      “Hello, Quentin,” she said coolly. “Just the person I wanted to see. You know, the last time I checked, tenants still had the right to peaceful occupation of the premises without unwanted roommates being foisted on them.” She fixed her brother with a hard stare. “So far I’ve resisted the urge to file a complaint against you with landlord-tenant court. I know that would break Mom’s heart.”

      “Is that what you came here to do? Complain?” He added in exasperation, “And, for the record, what would break Mom’s heart is if we found you dead in a ditch. We’re all worried sick about you and this psycho who’s sending you threats.”

      “Well, of course Mom is worried!” Allison retorted. “She was also worried when Noah took up race-car driving a few years ago. When Matt decided he’d try rock-climbing. And, when you went backpacking through Europe. But she trusted you to take precautions.”

      Quentin leaned forward. “What’s wrong with getting a little help in this case? I couldn’t even mention Connor’s name without you going ballistic on me.” Quentin folded his hands on his desk. “Connor is the best in the business. The only reason you won’t consider him is that you two do nothing but snap and bark at each other.”

      “Great, won’t that make us pleasant roomies!”

      Connor gained grim satisfaction from the thought that she sounded worried about their living situation. “I can stand the heat in the kitchen if you can, petunia.”

      She gave him the imitation of a smile. “You won’t need to worry about the kitchen, Connor, because I plan to light a fire under you.”

      Their gazes locked while Quentin stifled a laugh. Connor wondered what she’d say if he told her she’d already lit a fire inside him. He’d just been unsuccessfully dousing the flames for years.

      Quentin cleared his throat. “If you think I’m meddling, Ally, just consider it payback for your meddling in my life. That was a nice little performance last year, orchestrating to throw me and Elizabeth together.”

      “That was different.”

      Quentin’s expression showed skepticism. “Oh, yeah?”

      Connor knew that, partly thanks to Allison’s machinations, Quentin and her best friend Liz were now married and the parents of one-month-old Nicholas.

      Allison straightened away from the desk that she had been leaning against and folded her arms. “You and Liz were made for each other, Quent. Besides, you can’t say you’re unhappy with the way things turned out.”

      Quentin cocked his head and leaned back in his chair. “So that was different because you had my best interests at heart, is that it?”

      Connor nodded at Allison, then looked back at Quent. “Obviously, unlike Allison here, who had your best interests at heart, Quent, you’re just a dirty, rotten interloper of the first order.”

      Allison sighed in exasperation. Her brother and Connor were cut from the same cloth, despite the fact that one had been born to wealth and the other still had the air of a dangerous bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Neither would back down in a situation like this.

      Connor looked at her levelly. “Somehow I didn’t think you’d be backing down easily despite seeming docile as a lamb when I drove you to work this morning.”

      “You do know me better than that,” she tossed back.

      “Let’s call this one a draw, petunia.” He said it calmly, but his fixed look conveyed the message that he would not be thwarted next time.

      “Why don’t you join us for lunch?” Quentin offered. “Connor and I agreed to do lunch today a long time ago, but, as it happens, you’ve been the number-one topic so far.”

      She glanced at her watch. “Thanks for the offer but I need to get back.”

      She’d succeeded in communicating her displeasure to her brother, but it was clear that neither he nor Connor was going to be moved to seeing her point of view—such as the need for Connor to remove himself from her house.

      Since staying any longer would probably be an exercise in futility, she supposed that it made sense to agree to Connor’s offer of a draw and retreat from the field of battle. But if Connor thought he’d won, he was in for a big surprise.

      Connor moved toward her. “I’ll go with you.”

      “You’re having lunch with Quent, remember? Besides, it’s broad daylight with plenty of traffic.”

      “Quentin and I can have lunch another time,” Connor shot back. “Besides, we’ve said all we needed to say. My guys are starting on the security system for the house this afternoon and I need to get back.” He nodded at Quentin. “You don’t mind if I take a rain check, do you?”

      Quentin looked quizzically from one to the other of them before, she could swear, a smile played at the corners of his lips. “Not a problem. Not a problem at all.”

      Her brother’s expression made her wary, but she didn’t dwell on it as Connor came toward her, obviously intent on following her out the door. “Suit yourselves.”

      “I’ll pick you up at work when you’re done,” Connor said in a tone that declared he would brook no argument. “Give me a ring on my cell.”

      “Naturally,” she responded sarcastically, though silently she admitted that she’d unintentionally summarized part of the problem: she was afraid that having Connor around might seem all too natural all too quickly.

      On Sunday, Allison drove to Carlyle to have brunch with her family. Her brothers and her sister-in-law had all converged at her parents’ impressive brick colonial.

      Connor came with her, as she knew he would have even if he hadn’t gotten a separate invitation from her parents.

      He was still camped out at her townhouse, but she hadn’t given up hope of dislodging him. Even if Quentin technically still owned the townhouse and Connor could claim to be acting at his request, that didn’t mean she was without options. She wasn’t prepared yet to take the drastic step of moving out herself, but she could refuse to cooperate with Connor and ignore him as much as possible.

      The main topic of conversation during brunch was, of course, her nameless antagonist. In comparison, the fact that she was living with Connor seemingly went over without anyone so much as batting an eye.

      Her mother seemed to summarize the general feeling by commenting, “We’re so grateful to you, Connor, for providing your security services. It does give me some peace of mind.”

      Her brother Matt added, “Lots of luck, Connor. And, if I know Allison, you’re going to need it.”

      Connor merely