Intimate Betrayal. Donna Hill

“She’s the journalist from Visions Magazine who’s been assigned to do a major article on the company. She may want to talk with some of you.”

      A unified groan rose from the group of ten technicians. Maxwell knew that his team was single-focused when they walked through the doors of M.K. Enterprises. The slightest deviation from their routine and they became the surliest group of people on the face of the planet. He chuckled silently. Reese Delaware was certainly a deviation.

      “Your cooperation is appreciated,” he continued. “See you in five.”

      “So, what’s the deal with this Delaware woman? What’s she like?” Glen asked, sidling up next to Maxwell.

      He shuffled through some notes on the table and shrugged. “She’s a journalist. And you know how I feel about them.” He clenched his jaw.

      Glen looked at his friend from the corner of his eye. “How long is she going to be hanging around?”

      Maxwell took a long breath and exhaled. “She’s been assigned to dog my tracks at all of our sites, interview me and anyone who knows me.”

      Glen’s thick, brown eyebrows rose. “You agreed to that?”

      Maxwell slanted his dark eyes toward Glen. “You know better than that. I got backed into a corner by the Board. They voted for it.”

      “Hey listen, before you know it, it’ll be over and she’ll be out of your hair—ancient history.”

      “Yeah, that’s the day I’m living for,” he joked, with a half smile.

      “That’s a pretty interesting group you have there,” Reese commented as she and Maxwell left the conference room.

      “They’re the best in the business,” he snapped, automatically taking her comment as a criticism. He picked up his pace. Her scent was getting to him. He couldn’t think clearly with her so close. She was getting to him. Just as she’d gotten to his crew. They were like putty in her hands. It was comical the way they practically fell over each other to get her attention. She wound them around her pretty little finger like rubber bands. The realization rattled him.

      “I didn’t mean anything negative. I think they’re phenomenal. They’re all so young and brilliant. And obviously dedicated to you,” she added.

      He heard the ring of sincerity in her voice and it startled him. He gave her a curious look. The idea that his staff was dedicated to anything other than doing a first-class job never entered his mind. He always attributed their zeal to the love of their work.

      He frowned. “Your writer’s instinct must be off, Ms. Delaware,” he stated in dismissal. He opened the door of his office and stood aside to let her pass. She looked up at him as she eased by, her warm amber eyes skimming across his face like a stone over water.

      A tiny chip from the wall crumbled and fell between them.

      Reese and Maxwell spent every day together, practically glued at the hip. The staff of M.K. Enterprises seemed to welcome her as one of them. They more than answered her questions and many volunteered to be interviewed just to be in her company. Reese Delaware had the ability to charm everyone she met. Even him. She was the first face he saw when he arrived and the last one before he left at night. As much as he hated to admit it, he had begun to look forward to seeing her every day. He even grudgingly enjoyed her myriad of questions.

      “This has been a very enlightening two weeks,” Reese said, stretching her long, lean body like a contented cat. “I’ve gotten a pretty good picture of who you are as the businessman through your staff and watching you interact with them.” She waited for a reaction and got none, so she went in for the dig. “It’s amazing how they can find so many decent things to say about you, Max.” She strutted back and forth across the room, one arm crossed beneath her breasts, the other hand twirling a loose tendril of hair. “That’s the most curious thing about this whole process,” she added airily. “I’m really looking forward to the trip on Sunday. I can’t wait to see what the California contingent has to say about the irreproachable Maxwell Knight.”

      Maxwell didn’t look up from the paperwork strewn about his desk.

      Slowly Reese crossed the room, bracing her palms on the desktop.

      Still he refused to look up.

      Feeling especially mischievous, she flicked a pencil across the desk, finally capturing his attention.

      “What is it, Ms. Delaware?” he asked, his heart racing as their gazes connected.

      Reese leaned closer, so close she could count the silken lashes rimming those incredible eyes. “I will not be ignored,” she parodied in a great Glenn Close imitation from the movie classic, Fatal Attraction.

      Whatever resistance Maxwell had left came tumbling down. It started out as a chuckle, then slowly built in strength and volume to a full-fledged raucous laugh.

      Reese, caught up in the moment, joined in with her own throaty laughter, enchanted by the sparkle in his eyes, the velvet timbre of his voice. She propped her hip on his desk.

      “We needed that,” she said, catching her breath.

      Maxwell nodded in agreement. “I think you’re right,” he chuckled.

      “You have a wonderful laugh,” she uttered in a husky whisper. “You should do it more often.”

      The metamorphosis was slow but clear. The light gradually dimmed in his dark eyes. Maxwell straightened up in his seat. “Carmen has your airline ticket. Don’t forget to pick it up before you leave.” He cleared his throat. “If you need a car to take you to the airport in the morning, please inform Carmen on your way out.” He returned his attention to the papers on his desk. But suddenly the words and diagrams were all a blur. The rational part of him wished she’d leave. The thoroughly male part of him wished she’d come closer.

      Reese would not be dissuaded. “I haven’t seen anything of the city since I arrived,” she hedged. “Why don’t you be the gentleman I know you can be and take me out? Give me the twenty-five-cent tour before we leave for California.”

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “You can be a gentleman, can’t you?” she taunted, bracing her hips with her fists in a defiant stance. “You have to eat, so why do it alone?”

      “What makes you think I’ll be eating alone?”

      Her mouth curved up in a grin. “Writer’s instinct?” Her cocked eyebrow punctuated her point.

      Maxwell pushed away from his desk and stood up. “I think you need to sharpen up on your writer’s instinct, Ms. Delaware.” He paused then looked at her from beneath dark curly lashes. “But I wouldn’t want you to go back to Chicago believing all the negative things you’ve heard about New Yorkers.”

      She watched him as he crossed the room and retrieved his jacket from the rack. A tiny tingle of anticipation rippled in her stomach. This is just the beginning, Mr. Knight, she mused. I’ll get on the other side of that wall no matter what it takes. And you’re gonna have a good time while I’m getting there.

      Chapter 3

      “Do you come here often?” Reese asked, taking a bite from a succulent piece of batter-dipped fried chicken.

      “No. Actually, this is the first time. But I’ve heard a lot of the staff talk about Sylvia’s. They’ve always had good things to say about the food.”

      “Believe me, it’s almost good enough to have me make the trip from Chicago.” She grinned. “The atmosphere is great. It’s so cozy and personal.”

      “Hmm.”

      Reese took a sip of her chardonnay. “Where do you go? I mean—when you go out…on a date?”

      “Getting a bit personal, aren’t we?”

      She