The Rebel Tycoon's Outrageous Proposal. Abby Gaines

I’m a good neighbor. No loud parties, no drugs.”

      “I don’t like feeling I’m a prisoner,” Holly said shortly.

      “No one’s saying you can’t leave the building. If anyone sees you in the elevator, they’ll assume you’re working for one of the other firms with offices here. I just don’t want you wandering around Harding Corporation. It’s bound to trigger speculation.”

      Before she could argue, her cell phone started playing “America the Beautiful.” “I’d better take this,” she said. “It might be the FBI.”

      While she took the call, Jared walked over to the window that wrapped around the northwest corner of the building. Out one side he glimpsed the Space Needle, out the other the expanse of Elliott Bay. The Bainbridge Island ferry broke the surface of the blue water, and above the bay, traffic crawled across the West Seattle Bridge. Beyond the downtown office buildings and department stores stretched a clear blue sky. And beyond that, space. Cyberspace. When Jared had started his business, cyberspace had been the Wild West of the corporate world. He and others had tamed it to some extent, but its boundaries were still enticingly vague.

      He imagined Holly would hate to operate in the virtual world he inhabited. She was bound by facts, realities. She thrived on—what had she said at The American The American way. Play by the rules and it’ll be okay. The woman’s cell phone played a patriotic tune, for goodness’ sake.

      For Jared the American way meant freedom. Freedom to pursue vengeance to the ends of the earth.

      Holly was arguing with whomever she was talking to, employing the superior tone that often sneaked into her conversations with Jared. The tone that drove a man to do things like break in to steal her underwear.

      “You can’t do that,” she said. “I’m innocent, and I will prove—” She listened for another half a minute. When she spoke again, the assertiveness had disappeared from her voice.

      “Just wait,” she begged. “Please don’t do this now.”

      When she ended the call, she turned to Jared white and stricken.

      “What is it?” he asked. All the times they’d discussed the fraud inquiry he hadn’t seen her look this shattered.

      “That was the chairman of the Northwest CPA Association. They’ve revoked my membership.”

      For a second Jared thought he must have misunderstood. But she didn’t say anything else, merely waited for his reaction. “That bunch of gray-haired, fat-bellied—” he grasped for a polite noun “—number-crunchers. Who gives a damn what they think? I thought someone must have died the way you—”

      “This is a kind of death,” she blurted out. “You may not have much respect for my profession, but it’s…it’s my life. If I’m not acceptable to the association, I’m not going to be acceptable to any client with ethics higher than pond scum. This will be the end of me.”

      Holly could have guessed Jared wasn’t the sort to offer kind reassurances. But the anger that hardened his blue eyes took her by surprise.

      “Don’t you dare reduce your life to nothing more than your work,” he snarled. “Damn well pull yourself together and get on with the job you’re here to do. You can deal with those jerks at the association when this mess is over. In the meantime, stop your whining.”

      Holly’s jaw dropped and she stared at him.

      Jared unclenched his fists and said more calmly, “This thing with the CPA crowd won’t affect your work for me, since you won’t be the one signing off on the accounts. Now, are you going to live here or not?”

      She nodded, the fight momentarily sucked out of her. She was still trying to figure out if she should feel shamed or enraged. And people said she was insensitive.

      Before she could tell Jared what she thought of his people skills, the phone in her hand rang again, startling her. She read the display: Summer.

      “It’s my sister.” She pinned a smile to her lips so she would sound cheery when she said, “Hi, there.”

      “What’s with the fake happy voice?” Summer demanded.

      So much for that idea. “Nothing,” she said.

      “Holly, tell me.”

      “Just a silly mistake. The FBI think I stole some money and I have to…deal with stuff.”

      “That’s terrible!” Summer sounded even more shocked than Holly had been. “I’m coming back,” she said instantly.

      “No.” Holly managed to inject her usual authority into the word. “I want you to stay where you are. You need that job.”

      “But I want to help,” her sister protested.

      “I know, and it’s sweet of you. But there’s nothing you can do. I just have to work through this. It’ll be fine.”

      By the time she managed to convince Summer to stay in Portland, Jared was looking at his watch. Too bad. She wasn’t about to apologize for talking to her sister.

      “I have to get to work. Let’s meet tonight and discuss progress,” he said.

      Holly seized the chance to wrest back some control. “I’ll need more time to get up to speed.”

      “Tomorrow morning, then.”

      “Sunday night,” she said firmly. “I’ll spend the weekend thinking about your options.”

      “Are you charging me your exorbitant hourly rate for the time you spend thinking?”

      “It’s the most valuable time you’ll get out of me,” she said with no false modesty. “If you don’t want to pay for it, I won’t think about your deals and we’ll go ahead with whatever any other accountant would recommend.” She held the door of her apartment open. “In which case, yes, we can meet tonight and this job should be all over in a week.”

      Jared didn’t budge for maybe half a minute. “Sunday, then.” He handed her the key card. “This will get you in and out. I’ll have Janine, my PA, collect your stuff from your friend’s house and drop it here.”

      “I thought you said I could go out.”

      “If people see you arriving with your baggage, they might guess what’s going on.”

      She scowled. “If you had this all worked out, why did you take my clothes to AnnaMae’s in the first place? You could have brought them straight here.”

      “I couldn’t bear to see you in that navy suit again.” He grinned, dispelling the tension of a minute earlier. “And I wanted to see your face when your underwear showed up at the window.”

      “Great,” Holly said wearily. “A client with the mental age of a twelve-year-old.”

      And, damn him, he threw back his head and laughed.

      AT EIGHT O’CLOCK that night, Jared tapped on her door with what he considered admirable restraint. She’d had ten hours. Surely she had something to show for them, no matter what she’d said this morning. He was curious to see how she’d got on—and warmed by the thought of exchanging more of the banter that both frustrated and elated him. He was certain Holly enjoyed it as much as he did.

      He knocked again, tapping his foot as he waited, but again he got no response. He frowned. She wouldn’t have gone out. She had all she needed for her work, and Janine had stocked the refrigerator. Maybe Holly was in the bathroom. He waited another minute before he struck the door with the heel of his hand.

      When she still didn’t appear, an unexpected wave of terror flooded him.

      She wouldn’t.

      “This will be the end of me,” she’d said about the call from the CPA association. She didn’t mean it like that. Holly