Talia smiled. Things had gone well last night.
The bell over the back door jingled and she automatically reached for another cup. Sadie blew through the door on an Arctic blast and slammed it behind her.
“Brrrr,” she said, her teeth clattering. “It’s like a freezer out there.”
“The snow moved in fast,” Talia called. She walked to the storage room and waited until her assistant had taken off her coat. She helped her with her scarf before handing her the coffee. “Last night, it seemed almost warm.”
“That’s Mother Nature for you. I’m just glad she held off until after the auction.” Sadie wrapped her hands around the mug and savored the heat. A twinkle lit her eyes. “We did good, didn’t we?”
A grin split Talia’s face. “We did great!” She gave her friend a quick squeeze. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for all your hard work.”
Sadie shrugged modestly. “It was worth it. Besides, it was a hoot watching all those muckety-mucks squabble over the same items they ridiculed here in the shop. Did you see how intense the bickering got over that garden gnome? Why, if I hadn’t known better, I would have thought it was the Venus de Milo.”
Garden gnome?
“Mm,” Talia murmured. She took a quick sip of coffee. Maybe she’d missed a thing or two up there in the balcony.
She followed Sadie into the showroom. The snow boy was finishing up but it was doubtful that they’d have any customers for a while. On days like this, the world seemed to wake up a little slower. That was fine with her. It would give her and Sadie the opportunity to chat. They never seemed to have the time to do that anymore.
“I’m sorry I left you to do all the cleanup work,” she said as she reached out to straighten a rack of comics. Her behavior last night had been uncharacteristic on many levels. “I should have stayed but things got so chaotic. I felt like I was being pulled in a million different directions.”
“Ack, don’t worry about it.” Sadie tossed her purse under the counter and took a drink of hot coffee. “The parents helped me. We finished in a snap.”
“Still, I owe you dinner.”
“Italian?”
“Whatever you want.”
Sadie threw her a wink before a more serious expression settled onto her face. She leaned forward onto the counter and propped her chin up in her hand. “I saw that Adam made it. How did that go?”
The trials and tribulations of the Sizemore clan weren’t a secret. Talia had shared her frustrations about her brother, just as Sadie had talked about her problems raising a pre-teen. Sadie and Adam had even gone a few rounds themselves, with Adam playing the clueless antagonist, of course.
“Fine,” Talia murmured. She immediately rolled her eyes. She’d lied to her friend enough. “Same as always, if you want the truth.”
“Must have been better than usual. You look almost chipper this morning.”
Talia brushed a hand over her cheek self-consciously. She was refreshed—but not because of her brother. She’d just finally gotten a good night’s sleep.
It had been months since her body had allowed that to happen. In spite of the challenges, it seemed that pulling the job at Ramona’s had been well worth the risk. She’d acquired a valuable piece, she’d confused Kinkade and she’d built her self-confidence back up to where it should be. She couldn’t help but feel that she’d won this battle.
Of course, the color in her cheeks could be due to the way she’d masturbated herself into exhaustion after she’d gotten home. It had been impossible to resist the temptation knowing that Riley was right outside.
“I feel good,” she admitted. “I’m glad the auction went well but it was a lot of work. I’m relieved that it’s over.”
“Me, too.” Sadie got a dreamy look in her eyes. “I celebrated with a bubble bath complete with candles and leftover champagne. I didn’t know what I was getting into when I volunteered to take over that thing.”
Champagne. Talia’s mouth tightened involuntarily. If she’d felt an ounce of remorse about burglarizing Ramona Gellar, it had vanished when she’d found two champagne glasses from the auction on the woman’s kitchen counter.
The witch had had the nerve to steal from a charity! Of all the targets so far, this one felt the most justified—except for Brent, of course.
“Talia?”
“Hmm?” She shook her head as she came back to the present.
“You were a million miles away.”
“Oh, sorry. Just thinking.” She hooked her hair over her ear. A good night’s sleep should help her keep her wits about her better. She couldn’t drop her guard like that. “What about Linc? Did he have a good time?”
Sadie slapped her hand down on the counter. “Are you kidding me? With his drawing selling for twenty bucks and Kinkade promising to put in a good word with his case worker, he was over the moon.”
Talia only heard one thing. “Kinkade?”
“He talked with Linc last night and really made an impression.” A resolute look crossed Sadie’s face. “I like that man. If you don’t snatch him up quick, I might make a play for him myself.”
Talia blinked in surprise. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“But…but… There’s nothing going on between Riley and me.”
“So it’s Ri-ley now, is it?” A self-satisfied smile settled onto Sadie’s lips. She traced the lip of her coffee cup with her finger. “Nothing going on, my foot.”
Talia’s mouth worked helplessly. Where was this coming from? Riley had been hanging around the shop for months but Sadie had never commented on it before. She certainly hadn’t expressed any interest in him to her assistant. She hadn’t admitted her feelings to even herself until last night. “You’ve misinterpreted things.”
“Sweetie, I didn’t have to interpret anything. I know attraction when I feel it. That stud’s like a magnet to your steel armor. I’ve learned to stay out of the way so I won’t get caught up in the field.”
A thought occurred to Talia and she set down her coffee with a whump. “You put him in that box seat on purpose.”
“There wasn’t anywhere else to seat him. We were already sold out when he bought his ticket.”
“Sadie!”
“Okay, okay. Even magnets need to be flipped sometimes. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to give things a little shove.”
Talia let out a huff and spun away. She walked aimlessly as she tried to get her mind around her friend’s ill-timed matchmaking. “Why would you do that? You’ve seen how the two of us argue.”
Sadie shrugged. “Foreplay.”
A jolt went through Talia’s body. “Excuse me?”
“You’re not arguing. You’re juicing each other up. Honey, there’s nothing wrong with that. He’s a hunk. A bona fide hottie. A woman could go all moony-eyed over that strong jawline, those wide shoulders and those big hands. You know what they say about a man with big hands…”
Talia’s stomach dropped. She knew better than anyone how apropos that saying was. Whipping around, she held up her hands to stop the embarrassing tirade. “Okay, you’re right. There’s chemistry between us but it’s not the good kind. It’s the kind that blows things up!”
“You’re just not used to how he challenges you.” Sadie planted her hands on her hips and shoved her head forward like a snapping turtle. “I think he’s a perfectly nice man. The fact that he’s easy on the eyes is an added bonus. He’s certainly better for you than Roger Thorton.”
A choked sound erupted from Talia’s throat.
“That old fool,” Sadie said tetchily. “It was absolutely disgraceful the way he shoved his tongue down your throat in front of all our patrons.”
Talia covered her face with her hand. She’d passed the point of discomfort long ago. “Can we just drop this?”
“And the obvious display he made buying that Turkish rug. I swear.”
Talia peeked through her fingers. Oh Lord, Lydia was going to love that. “Roger bought the ru
g?”
“Of course he did. You were there; you saw him.” Glee suddenly lit Sadie’s eyes. “Unless you were busy with the detective at the time.”
Talia looked at the ceiling and counted to ten. What was this woman doing working at an antiques shop? She should be with the CIA.
She pivoted on her heel. “I’m going to get the paper.”
“Oh my gosh! I was just kidding!” Sadie flew out from behind the counter. “Don’t you run away from me. What happened up there?”
Talia’s heels clipped steadily across the floor. “Nothing.”
“You didn’t know about the garden gnome either!”
“Sure I did.”
Sadie grabbed her by the arm. “What color was its hat?”
“This is ridiculous.” Talia pulled her arm free and opened the front door. The wind shot straight through her sweater and skirt, making her grit her teeth. She hurried over to where the paper sat on the sidewalk. Dumb paperboy. She’d asked him to put the thing in the mail slot a million times.
She ran back to the entrance but Sadie blocked the way.
Talia stood shivering outside her own shop. “I’m getting frostbite. Let me in.”
“The hat,” her assistant said, pointing at her head. “What color?”
Talia hunched her shoulders against the cold. She didn’t have a clue. “Green?”
“Wrong! Purple!” Sadie pointed at her with the finger of death. “You were making out with the detective.”
Not exactly.
She hurried into the shop and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. Trying to distract her assistant, she tossed the paper onto the counter. “There should be an article about the auction in here.”
Sadie was on her heels like a bull terrier. “Is he a good kisser?”
The question stopped Talia as she flipped by the sports section. She didn’t know.
How was it that with everything they’d done together, he’d never kissed her?
Damn. Now Sadie had put that thought into her head.
Her assistant let out a cackle. “From the expression on your face, he must be fantastic.”
She wouldn’t doubt it. He’d proven himself to be quite skilled at other things. She shook off the thought and began pawing through the newspaper. “Where’s the society section?”
“Come on. Share. I haven’t had a date in three— There!” Sadie said abruptly. She pushed aside a grocery store’s advertisement so the New Covington Life section was on top. “What does it say?”
The bold headline made Talia go numb.
“Are we in there?”
“No,” she finally said, her voice like ice. “But Brent is.”
Sadie let out a screech.
“Brent? As in Harrington? Why in the world would he be in there?” She nudged Talia aside so she could see. Swiftly, she skimmed the page. She let out another wail when she saw the column. “That no-good, two-timing fiend!”
Talia pressed a hand to her stomach. The anger inside her burned.
“Art Council Supports School Programs? Where did they get that? Why would they print this garbage? It’s an outrage!”
Talia’s gaze fixed on the black and white picture of Brent and Shelli in all their finery. Her teeth ground together as she read the caption. “Council for the Arts President Brent Harrington III and wife, Shelli, show their support at local fundraiser.”
“The Art Council isn’t supporting this,” Sadie fumed. “They twisted the words around. The Council chose to rescind their funding. That’s why we had to have this auction. Where’s the phone book? I’m calling the editor and asking for a retraction.”
“It won’t do any good,” Talia said, her fury mounting. “Whatever they write will be in tiny print that nobody will see.”
“We’ve got to do something!”
She took one deep breath, then two. This was the second time Brent had pushed her temper past its limits. Last time she’d chosen to run away. This time, things were going to be a whole lot different.
He couldn’t walk all over her anymore. She was a different person now. She was stronger, more confident and just a little bit ruthless.
Turning, she marched for the back door. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Where are you going? What are you going to do?”
“Watch the store.”
Talia was halfway to her car before she even got her coat over her shoulders. How dare he? “Oooooh, you turd!” she growled as she slammed the door.
Her tires spun on the snow, sending muck flying. She was in too much of a fit to notice that Kinkade’s car swung in behind her. It didn’t matter. Her mind was clearly focused on another man who liked to cause problems for her.
Brent Harrington III had been a pain in her side forever. She was tired of being manipulated. The man was a master of spin. He could take the worst of situations and still come out smelling like a rose. This time, though, he’d gone too far. She wasn’t going to let him get off easy. If he’d thought the loss of his animalier had hurt, he hadn’t seen anything yet.
On impulse, she made a quick left turn that had three cars slamming on their brakes and honking their horns. She didn’t notice the blue sedan that took the turn with her. In minutes, she was at Harrington Manufacturing. She parked in Shelli’s open space and slammed the door behind her.
“Old money,” she growled under her breath.
Of course the reporter had gone after Brent. The Harrington family and their hunting implements company had been around for seventy-five years. Guns were sexy, the company was solid and, most importantly, old. In New Covington, that was as good as aged wine. Second generation wealth from an appliance company didn’t rank nearly as high. With the Harrington name in the tagline, the society reporter had earned herself a bonus.
Talia yanked open the front door to the building and stormed across the entryway.
“Ma’am. Excuse me, ma’am?”
She glanced back and saw a redhead in impossibly high heels trying to catch up with her. She punched the up button for the elevator anyway. “What?” she snapped.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
The elevator arrived and Talia stepped inside. She hit the button for the top floor with enough force to make the jiggly redhead take a cautious step back.
“I can’t let you enter if you don’t have an appointment,” Red said nervously.
“Tell Brent I’m on my way.”
“But I don’t know your name.” The woman’s voice faded as the metal doors closed.
“Don’t worry,” Talia said. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “He’s expecting me.”
* * * * *
Brent was leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed over his chest when Talia stormed into his office. A smirk settled on his face. “Hi, Tally,” he said softly. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Her fingertip hold on her temper slipped. She slammed the door behind her, nearly breaking the nose of another secretary who’d tried to get in her way. “You bastard.”
“Not a bastard,” he said with a chuckle. “I assure you, I’m a full-blooded Harrington.”
“Same difference.”
She started toward him but a newspaper on a nearby table had her pausing mid-stride. The society section glared up at her like a neon sign. In a flash, the paper was crumpled in her hand. Crossing the room, she threw it in his face. “Sadie is calling the editor right now, demanding a retraction.”
“A retraction?” he said, cocking one eyebrow. He smoothed out the paper and held it up to the light coming in from the window. “I thought it was a good article. It’s a damn fine picture, that’s for sure.”
She tore the paper from his hands. It ripped with a loud rasp. For emphasis, she tossed the remnants onto the floor. “It’s full of lies. I can’t believe you, Brent. Last night was important to a lot of people. Why does everything have to be about you?”
“There isn’t one thing in that article that i
sn’t true. I’m the Arts Council president. I supported the auction with a donation, my attendance and even a purchase.” He reached out and touched a lock of her hair. “Where was my donation, by the way?”
Talia’s face flared. How dare he bring those up? She swatted his hand away. “You spun that story to make yourself look good.”
“Hey, you’re in there, too.”
“The Sizemore Foundation name doesn’t even appear until the third paragraph.”
“No press is bad press, baby.”
“Don’t you ‘baby’ me.” She closed the remaining distance between them. The slick smile hadn’t disappeared from his lips. She was sorely tempted to remove it for him. “You don’t care about this program. You were the one who pushed the Council to drop it. Why can’t you leave it alone?”
“What fun would that be?”
“This is fun for you?” she said in a raw voice.
He reached out suddenly and caught her about the waist. With a jerk, he pulled her firmly between his outspread legs. She unbalanced and fell against his muscled chest. “It’s fun for both of us,” he said as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. He licked her pounding pulse suggestively. “And you know it.”
Talia’s eyes widened. His cock nudged at the juncture of her legs, domineering and insistent. Her hands flailed for his shoulders. She pushed him hard but his fingers bit into her hips, making her rub her mound against him. “Damn it, Brent,” she said through gritted teeth. “Coming at me through the arts program is low. I won’t let you do it.”
His teeth scraped against her tender throat and he pushed her coat off her shoulders. It dropped to the floor. “You’ll let me do anything I want.”
His voice was low but the message was loud and clear. He expected her to submit.
And it made her sick.
Remorse filled her. How had she allowed herself to be subjugated like this? Where was her pride? She hadn’t realized until this very moment how far this thing between them had unraveled. Brent was always ogling her and stealing a quick touch. He’d been doing it for years. She was used to it.
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