The Rebel Tycoon's Outrageous Proposal. Abby Gaines

She whipped it behind her back. “That’s my bag.”

      “Nothing wrong with your eyesight.” He advanced into the room and dropped the canvas overnight bag. “You’ll find a few of your things in there.”

      “It was you! You broke into my home last night—for a panty raid?” She heard the beginnings of a shriek in her voice and clenched her teeth.

      Uninvited, Jared sat on the couch. AnnaMae, agog with curiosity, propelled Holly to an armchair. She was about to take the space next to Jared herself, but Holly’s glare deterred her. With visible reluctance, she left the room.

      “You needed some clothes. I got them,” he said.

      She’d have to be stupid to believe he’d done it to help her.

      “No need to thank me. The look on your face when I knocked on the window was all the reward I need.”

      That was the real reason. He’d derived puerile pleasure from her embarrassment. “How dare you break in—that place is a crime scene.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “And you had me convinced you’re innocent.”

      “You know what I mean. The FBI taped it off. And how did you get into my complex? The gate’s always locked.”

      He opened his mouth to answer, but she held up a hand. “I don’t want to know. I’d probably feel compelled to report it to Special Agent Crook.”

      He snorted. “You can take law-abiding too far, you know.”

      “No, I don’t know. This is exactly what I’ve never liked about you—”

      “You’ve never liked about me?” His voice had gone dangerously quiet. “You hadn’t met me before yesterday, but you never liked me?”

      When he put it like that, it sounded unreasonable. “You’re twisting my words. I said I never liked one thing about you, that you’re known to deal on the fringes of the law.”

      “So much for your promise to suspend judgment,” he snapped. “Since we’re clearing the air, is there anything else you’ve ‘never liked’ about me?”

      Well, he’d asked for honesty, her personal strength. “I don’t like the deals you make that infringe on the rights of small shareholders. I don’t like the way you mislead the market, distracting people from your shadier deals by feigning an interest in a legitimate one. I don’t like the way you leak confidential information to the press when it suits you.”

      Jared’s admiration for Holly grew. She was smart enough to sift through the business gossip, the newspaper articles extolling his successes, and figure out exactly what he was up to. Panic momentarily suffused him. Would she realize the role he’d set her up to play in this current deal?

      With that extraordinary perception she seemed to have where he was concerned, she said, “In light of all that, I want you to promise me one thing.”

      “You’re in no position to make demands,” he reminded her.

      “Promise you will give me an honest answer to any question. I won’t work with you otherwise.”

      He briefly considered agreeing, then lying to her when he had to. But contrary to the low opinion Holly had of his personal integrity, he didn’t break his promises. And he only lied when really necessary, which was seldom. “If I answer a question, you’ll know it’s the truth,” he said. “But I reserve the right not to answer every question.”

      Because why he wanted this deal so badly was none of her business.

      Holly nodded. “Now,” she said briskly, “is there anything you don’t like about me?”

      For an incredulous moment he stared at her. Anxious to play fair, she was giving him a chance to insult her the way she’d just done him. He laughed loud and long.

      “I mean it.” Pink tinged her cheeks. “It’s only fair.”

      Her steady gaze held his, but her tongue moistened those full lips—how could he ever have thought her plain?—in an anxious gesture.

      “You’re uptight.”

      “I know.” She looked relieved that he’d stated the obvious.

      He thought back over what he’d heard people say about her. It was human nature not to give unqualified praise, so those who admired her creativity, her technical precision, her intelligence, usually found something bad to say, as well. “You’re stubborn and inflexible.”

      She was actually nodding, as if these were compliments. He had to play hardball. “You’re condescending to those you consider your intellectual inferiors.”

      “I am not!”

      Now he had her. Though the hurt in her gray-blue eyes made him feel like a heel.

      “I admit I’m not a great people person,” she said, “but I would never—”

      “Hey.” Jared cut her off. “You asked. You don’t have to justify yourself to me. If it’s any consolation, I’ve discovered one thing I really like about you.”

      “What’s that?” she said suspiciously.

      “Your taste in lingerie.” He gestured to the bag between them. “For a lady who likes to dress so shapeless and dull, you’ve got some pretty hot stuff in there.”

      Holly felt her face flame. To hide her embarrassment, she leaned forward and pulled the bag toward her. She unzipped it and looked through what he’d brought. Most of her lingerie, and beneath it some clothes.

      But not her clothes.

      “I don’t believe it.” She rummaged through the bag again. “These are my sister’s things—none of these clothes are mine.” He’d obviously gone into the bottom drawer of her tallboy, where the overflow from the spare bedroom found a home. “I have a whole wardrobe full of suits and blouses. Why didn’t you bring those?”

      “I only chose stuff I liked,” Jared said airily. “None of the rest came close. Besides, my office is casual.”

      “But I don’t—” Holly counted to five. There would be plenty else to stress about in the weeks to come. At least she had fresh underwear and no need to spend a fortune on new clothes, assuming she was still around the same size as her sister.

      “There’s more,” he said. “In the zip pocket on the end.”

      She felt the outline of something hard through the bag and opened the pocket. “Oh.” Carefully, she pulled the painting out. Its bright colors shone in the dull of the living room. She blinked back tears. “I… How did you…?” She swallowed. “Thank you.”

      He dismissed her thanks with a wave of his hand. “It looked like it might be important.”

      “It is.” She clasped it to her chest. “It’s my father.”

      “You mean, he painted it?”

      “My mother did. It’s a portrait of my father.” Holly’s shaky laugh held equal measures of frustration and puzzlement. “I have no idea what Mom meant by it, but it’s all I have left of him.”

      Jared narrowed his eyes. Could Holly not guess the meaning of a painting under whose warm, colorful surface lurked a cold, blue heart? Chances were, she couldn’t. Abstract representations would be beyond this woman who lived her life in black and white.

      Holly had no idea how many shades of gray there were in this world.

      “Did your father die?” Dammit, he didn’t want to get personal with her. He’d never have asked the question if he hadn’t been in this bizarre situation, sitting opposite a woman whose underwear drawer he’d enjoyed riffling through far too much. Now she sat in front of him in the thinnest of satin robes, showing a tantalizing hint of creamy cleavage where the lapels