Heat of the Moment

by Lori Herter

  Josie took hold of her handbag lying next to her on the couch, all business now. “I’ve told you everything. I’d better be on my way.”

  A thought sped through Peter’s mind. He held up his hand, indicating he had something more to say. He ought to think this through first, he warned himself. But for some reason, he wouldn’t listen to himself, and plunged on. “I’ve just had an idea. An offer for you. You’re out of a job, I take it?”

  “Yes. But I’m not worried about getting a new one right away. I want to take some time off.”

  “Why don’t you work for me?”

  “For…you mean for Frameworks Systems?” The idea clearly took her by surprise.

  “Yes. But here at my home. Being confined to this wheelchair, I don’t get over to our building more than twice a month. My partner, Al, has taken over the day-to-day running of the company. I could use someone with your background to work with on research and development here at my home. There’s a guest cottage at the back of my property that I’ve changed into a lab.”

  Her brows drew together. “You mean, you want to pick my brain and find out what Earthwaves’ methods are.”

  He shifted his jaw to one side in a jaunty manner. “I’ll admit that occurred to me. But we at Frameworks believe in our own methods. If you feel it would be unethical to reveal Earthwaves’ classified information, I won’t press you for it. I really need someone with your background and experience in R and D.”

  Josie raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t want Earthwaves’ secrets, anyway. Our tests haven’t gotten such good results lately.” She smiled for the first time.

  Peter’s heart threatened to melt. Her smile was soft and shy, and he found it difficult to remain suspicious of her.

  “I’d been trying to tell Martin I thought we were offtrack, but he only sees things his way.” A new thought seemed to come into her mind. “What about Al Mooney? I understood that he was in charge of your R and D department.”

  Peter nodded. “Al is our R and D department. He’s a lab nerd. Brilliant and quirky. We met in college and have been friends ever since. When I started Frameworks, he was the first one I thought of to take on as my partner. He and I work together on developing new methods. Al has come up with some ingenious stuff. Trouble is, he doesn’t seem to have the psychological makeup to follow through and do the necessary trial-and-error testing. He gets bored, I think. I’ve been trying to do some of that at home, but I need an assistant. And you may have some good new ideas of your own to contribute.”

  “Won’t Al resent your hiring me?” Josie asked.

  “Don’t worry about him. I’ll smooth that out. And you wouldn’t be working directly with him, anyway. You’d be here with me.”

  Josie hesitated, apparently still dumbfounded at the job offer. “I’ll need to think it over.”

  Instead of thinking it over more himself as he ought to, Peter felt the urge to convince her. “I’ll pay you more than Earthwaves did.”

  She smiled with a confidence he hadn’t seen until now. “Earthwaves paid me very well.”

  Maybe she wasn’t the scared rabbit he’d begun to think she was. Had he misjudged her? “I know. You showed me your paycheck. I saw the figure. That’s monthly?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can beat it.”

  Josie shook her head. “You don’t have to offer me more money to lure me away. I already left Earthwaves.”

  Peter raised his eyebrows in astonishment. “You know, there’s such a thing as being too honest for your own good. You shouldn’t be thinking of reasons not to accept the offer of a fatter paycheck.” Now he was growing suspicious again. She seemed too good to be true.

  “I know. But I feel bad about having worked for a place that behaved so unethically toward you. Perhaps even caused you a permanent physical injury. And now it seems like you’re trying to reward me.”

  “I am.” If she was playing a game, he intended to go along with it until he could find out what she was really there for. “You came here of your own volition. You confessed, told me all you knew. I’m giving you absolution. And a better financial future.”

  Josie ran her hands over her hair, smoothing it back, as if trying to think of a good reason to reject his job proposal. “Seems like this is an offer I can’t refuse.”

  “Can you start tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow!” She rolled her eyes. “What time?”

  “I’m flexible about hours. What time do you like to start?”

  “How about nine? That way I can get an extra hour of sleep in the morning.”

  “Fine. I’ll get the necessary paperwork arranged.” He held out his hand. “It’s a deal then?”

  “Okay.” She shook hands with him. “Deal.”

  As he grasped her small hand, so delightfully feminine, he remembered the unacknowledged male-female connection between them that had seemed to throw her not ten minutes ago. She lowered her eyes and quickly pulled her hand away. He gazed over her averted face, so shy and wary. He had the unmistakable desire to reach for her, pull her onto his lap and comfort her in his arms.

  Was he nuts? She might be a spy. He didn’t know her. Couldn’t trust her, no matter how vulnerable she appeared. Maybe she was a good actress, trying to mislead him, to seduce him into trusting her. He couldn’t be sure she wasn’t still loyal to Earthwaves and here on a mission. Maybe that was why it was a good idea to hire her and keep her under his nose. At least, he told himself, that’s why he’d hired her.

  “Maybe you should go home and get some rest,” he told her. “Don’t be anxious about anything. You’ll be fine here with me.”

  Josie appeared increasingly disconcerted. That lost look came back into her eyes. Why? Everything was settled.

  Looking distracted, apparently by what he’d just said, she rose and walked to the door. Swiveling his wheelchair about, he followed her.

  At the door, she paused. Her brows were drawn together, her eyes troubled, as if she were plagued with doubts that were making her head swim. “I’m realizing that I’ve made this decision awfully quickly,” she said in a nervous voice as she turned to face him. “Maybe I should sleep on it….”

  Peter stared up at her, startled. Now she’d thoroughly confused him. “I thought we had a done deal. Shook hands and everything.”

  “I’m sorry. I…just… So much has happened so fast. I quit one job in a traumatic way, and now….”

  “You need a job,” he argued. “Frameworks is the obvious place for you to be. What are you afraid of?”

  Josie gazed down at him, her brown eyes tentative and wide. You, they seemed to say.

  Why? he wondered again.

  She took a long, deep breath. Then she eyed the wheels of his chair. After a hard swallow, she said, “Nothing. I’ll be here tomorrow at nine.”

  He smiled, feeling more relieved than he ought to. “Till tomorrow then. Get a good night’s sleep.”

  She said she would, then walked out. Peter closed the door behind her.

  Quickly, he threw aside the blanket and rose up out of the wheelchair. He walked to the stairs, limping. As he climbed the steps, he leaned on the railing to support his injured right side, healing, but still weak. He went into his office, to the window facing the street. Peeking through the slats of the Venetian blinds, he watched Josie walk to the front gate.

  Was she a gift from heaven, or a Trojan horse?

  If she was a spy from Earthwaves, she was brilliant. All her nervous vulnerability, her fidgeting and fatigue, her covered-from-head-to-toe negation of her own sexuality—if that was all an act to convey innocence, then she deserved an Academy Award. Either way, he was convinced the best thing he could do was hire her. If Josie was for real, then his company could use her expertise. If she was a spy, then he had her where he could keep an eye on her.

  Only Peter’s doctor knew that his fractured pelvis and legs had mended. He’d requested that the details of his medical condition be kept confidential. No one at Fram
eworks Systems, not even his old pal, Al, knew the truth—that he could walk, and one day would even run again. He didn’t want his friends to be put in the position of having to keep a secret. Peter wanted to look like a helpless cripple. If people assumed he was paralyzed, so much the better. He wanted to make himself a target, to draw out whoever it was who sabotaged the test structure—and shock the guilty party if he tried to finish Peter off.

  He’d told Josie and others about the gang of youths supposedly suspected of the crime. There was indeed such a gang, but he didn’t really believe they were responsible. The police had told him the job had been a professional one. Whoever had loosened the concrete railing on the test structure had done it with the right tools and expertise. It was someone who understood such structures—like an employee for a company working to retrofit such old bridges and overpasses. That meant Earthwaves, Peter had become convinced. He trusted his own employees at Frameworks, all six of them. And everyone knew, as Josie herself had indicated, that Martin Lansdowne was a loose cannon.

  Peter watched Josie open the iron gate. Her unexpected appearance on his doorstep might be an indication that his plan to draw out his assailant was working. She might have been sent by Lansdowne to report back.

  And yet, Josie had seemed so genuine. Worrying about every stray wisp of hair out of place had seemed to be an unconscious neurotic mannerism. And her hands were indeed icy when she seemed to be having an anxiety attack. That dazed, doe-in-headlights look in her eyes—what was that all about? She’d almost changed her mind about the job, too. That had caught him completely by surprise. Nice touch, if it was all an act.

  Was Josie Gray for real? Was anyone nowadays really so ethical that they would quit a job and go spill their guts to the injured competition? If she was on the level, then what a prize had walked into his life! God, didn’t he just wish that such a woman existed, a woman he could really have faith in?

  Peter reminded himself that he had to be careful. He’d been a stooge for a pair of soulful brown eyes eight years ago. Despite the warnings of his family and his partner, he’d put all his trust in Cory and married her. And within a year she’d cheated on him.

  Josie had big brown eyes, too. No matter how sweet she looked, how much he’d like to mentally undress her and pull down that knot of hair, he’d be a fool to trust her. With his life or his heart.

  Outside on the street, she closed the heavy gate behind her, then walked to her car. Peter watched, mesmerized again by the shy, yet sensual, way she moved.

  That old song came back to his mind, but this time he remembered a different snatch of lyrics.

  And then she turned homeward with one star awake,

  Like the swan in the evening moves over the lake.

  As she drove off, Peter stepped away from the window, feeling odd, disconcerted, energized. She was such a mysterious bundle of contradictions. He knew he’d think about her the rest of the day—her and that cockamamie old song.

  JOSIE DROVE HOME in a daze. She realized she’d missed a turn, and now couldn’t think straight to even figure out how to get back onto the right street. Managing to focus, she made a U-turn, then found the street she’d missed. Back on track, her mind returned to Peter Brennan.

  Oh, God! The way he’d looked at her, the way his eyes had settled on her face with such calm confidence. She recalled his black pupils focusing on her in a way that made her certain he could see right into her head. He was so overwhelmingly male. Just being in his home, sitting near him, she’d felt intimidated. Testosterone seemed to permeate the very atmosphere. Even now, remembering his face made her go weak in the stomach: the shadow of his beard along his jaw, the strong nose, the flared nostrils that widened as he spoke, making him look a bit fierce, reminding her of a fire-breathing dragon. Most of all, she’d been shaken by his forceful gaze, at times so filled with suspicion.

  But all at once his expression had softened, and when he’d reached out to touch her knee, she hadn’t been able to breathe! When he’d taken her hands in his, his touch had been so warm and gentle, his eyes so kind, she’d wanted to lose herself in that warmth, and in his gaze. That wasn’t like her. Why had she reacted that way?

  Her mind was still reeling. She’d expected a broken man in a wheelchair. Instead she felt as if he could break her with one gentle look, one more moment of kindness. Why had she agreed to work for him? Was she crazy? How could she expect to even think straight around him? He might be in a wheelchair, but he was still a man. She shouldn’t trust him.

  Get a grip, she told herself as she made another turn, bringing her closer to her condominium apartment in Irvine. He wasn’t that formidable. No one could be. She’d just been overwhelmed by the situation, and her imagination had gone into high gear.

  He was nothing special, just an ordinary man. And an invalid. That, in fact, was the only reason she had agreed to work for him, despite the anxiety she felt in his presence. Even if he was one of those highly sexed males, he couldn’t do anything. He might even be paralyzed from the waist down. He’d pointed out himself that he couldn’t chase her around the room.

  Josie shook her head in puzzlement as she turned into her condo community. What had made him say that? The fact that she was having an anxiety attack right in front of him, she reminded herself with embarrassment. Blood rushed to her face as she parked her car. She’d gone to him, confident that she was doing the right thing by telling him what she knew, and she’d turned into a melting scoop of ice cream as soon as she’d set eyes on him.

  If she was really going to work for him, she had to get her act together. She had to get a handle on her nerves, her emotions. She hadn’t felt so mixed-up since she was a silly, romantic thirteen-year-old. But she was an adult now, and she’d grown up to be sensible, methodical. A scientist. Someone who was in control, of herself and any situation she chose to put herself in. Seven years ago, she’d vowed that no man would ever get control of her again. She certainly wasn’t going to let herself be undermined by a man in a wheelchair!

  2

  “HOW ABOUT some lunch?” Peter suggested, thinking he’d bombarded Josie with enough information about Frameworks Systems for the morning. She’d arrived promptly at 9:00 a.m., ready to work, yet still uneasy and tentative. The more he observed her, as he’d explained her new job to her, the more he was inclined to trust her. She was so damned ingenuous. Still, he felt leery about trusting his instincts too quickly. He’d been wrong about women a few times too many.

  “All right,” she replied, fussing with her hair. “What do you do, have something delivered?”

  “Sometimes.” He watched her readjust the silver clip at the top of her head. “Usually I just open a can of tuna or microwave something. I’ve got a whole array of frozen dinners. Al keeps me supplied.”

  “Anything is fine,” she said. She removed the clip, set it on the stainless-steel lab table she was sitting at and uncoiled her hair. Elbows raised as she worked, she held her hair with one hand in a high ponytail, twisting the length of it with the other until it coiled upon itself, forming the knot on top.

  Peter watched, fascinated, as she tucked in the ends somehow, then picked up the large clip and secured it all in place. But, still not satisfied, she took the clip off yet again and repositioned it, fastening the knot even tighter to her scalp this time. Then she used the palms of her hands to feel for loose hairs, tucking here and there, smoothing everything down. And she did all this without a mirror.

  Peter was marveling at the process when he happened to glance downward. Her raised elbows caused her loose pink sweater, worn over another long skirt, to contour snugly beneath her breasts. He got a good impression of what her shapeless clothes were covering up. The sweet swells of her breasts were full, rounded, evocatively feminine. She seemed to have a small waistline, which added definition to her curves. What he wouldn’t give for one look, to determine if her figure could really be as delicious as he was imagining. Maybe he’d been out of circulation for too
long, recovering from his injuries and playing the invalid. Maybe she only looked this devastating because he’d been deprived for five months. Feeling primitive and urgent stirrings in his groin, Peter had to look away from her. Another few seconds of gazing at her curves might make him get up out of his wheelchair and pull her shapely body against his in a hot rush.

  After looking out the cottage window and taking a deep, quelling breath, he slowly turned his gaze back to her. At last she was done with her hair and was sitting with her hands in her lap, nervously rubbing the knuckle of her thumb.

  “I’m sorry.” She looked self-conscious. “Am I keeping you waiting?”

  Peter aimed for cool nonchalance and shook his head. “Can I ask a question?”

  “Sure. What?”

  “Why don’t you wear your hair down, instead of going to all that trouble?”

  Josie seemed dumbfounded. “It gets in the way, especially when I’m doing lab work.”

  “Why not cut it short?”

  “Short?” She looked a bit taken aback. Almost as if she didn’t have an answer, had never thought about it. “I’ve worn it this way since I was a teenager. Short hair has to be maintained. You have to get haircuts all the time to keep it in shape. It’s a lot of bother.”

  He pointed to her tightly battened-down curls. “And this isn’t?”

  She lifted her shoulders in a mystified shrug. “No, not really.”

  Peter shrugged, too. “The wearer knows best where the shoe pinches.”

  “Shoes?” Josie smiled, looking puzzled.

  “It’s an old Irish saying. My great-grandfather had dozens of them. Let’s go back to the house. See what’s in the kitchen.” He turned his wheelchair around and she got up. As they moved through the lab, he saw her glance warily at the door to the bedroom, where the double bed was visible. “This was built as a guest cottage,” he explained.

  She looked away, as if embarrassed at having her observation noticed. Peter got the distinct impression that the bed made her nervous. Now he felt self-conscious, too. Good thing she couldn’t read all the stray, impetuous ideas that were running through his mind about the proximity of that bed.