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About Last Night...
Michele Dunaway
When Something Is This Sinfully Good It Just Has To Be Right!Lindy Brinks is about ready to buy the idea that somebody who looks, walks and talks like an angel just might be the devil in disguise. And if that's the case, it would explain how she–the highly professional, very proper personal assistant–ended up in her boss Shane Jacobsen's bed. Especially when she'd managed to resist temptation for three long years.But the divinely good-looking playboy has that effect on women. Lord knows it was wrong, yet for one night Lindy was in paradise. Shane doesn't have a clue–about last night or the fallout from it!Now Lindy can't–won't–give Shane up. Not even if it means moving heaven and earth.


“I really need to talk to you,” Shane said. “I have no memory of last night.
“The last thing I remember is calling you. I did call you, didn’t I?”
“You did.” Lindy could safely admit that much.
“I really must have done a good one last night,” Shane went on. “My grandfather stopped by this afternoon, and pointed out that I have a hickey. Boy, did I get a lecture.”
Lindy’s hand flew up to cover her mouth. She’d been so carried away last night that she hadn’t stopped kissing him. But the evidence was right there in front of her like a badge of honor on Shane’s neck.
Shane frowned. “Lindy, how did I get this? I remember a redhead, but I know I didn’t do anything with her. But if I have this, who was I with?”
Lindy’s heart constricted. At the moment he looked so vulnerable. Yet she knew she couldn’t tell him the truth. How could she just say, Shane, you slept with me. He always saw her as good old Lindy, his personal assistant.
She gave Shane a narrow look, and he turned his big blue puppy-dog eyes on her. “Let me guess. You want me to find out….”
Dear Reader,
Love often finds people when they least expect it. And often when true love does come, it’s not what the person envisioned love to be. Since it isn’t what it should look like, it must not be love. Right? Shane Jacobsen has a misguided vision of love. It’s right under his nose, but unfortunately he’s never seen Lindy Brinks as anything more than the best personal assistant he’s ever had. To Shane, love is a fairy tale, a myth. He’s also stubbornly set in his ways.
Lindy Brinks knows there’s more depth to Shane Jacobsen than most people see. Tired of loving him, though, she’s determined to get over Shane once and for all. She’s going to get a new job and a new life. Unfortunately, there’s a little matter of what she did “last night” that may complicate things….
One of my greatest joys as a published author is creating interesting characters. I also enjoy writing about their evolution and growth as they travel down the rocky path toward true love. When they find it, that love may not be what they expected, but it’s better. It’s exactly what they need to be happy for the rest of their days. I hope you enjoy Shane and Lindy’s story as much as I did writing it. Oh, and about last night…well, you’ll just have to read on to see.
Enjoy the romance!
Michele Dunaway

Books by Michele Dunaway
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
848—A LITTLE OFFICE ROMANCE
900—TAMING THE TABLOID HEIRESS
921—THE SIMPLY SCANDALOUS PRINCESS
931—CATCHING THE CORPORATE PLAYBOY
963—SWEEPING THE BRIDE AWAY
988—THE PLAYBOY’S PROTÉGÉE
About Last Night…
Michele Dunaway


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For Jon Bizzell, who knows why.
To John Eagan, author unknown—believe.
To my Alpha Xi Delta sisters, for always being there.
And to my Pike buddies Alan, Ronn and Kevin,
this one’s for you.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT:
Special thanks to Dr. Braxton DeGarmo
for his expertise regarding emergency-room medicine
and head injuries. Any errors in the work are mine.

Contents
Prologue (#ub8332ecc-449f-556f-b93d-35339c6b9a2e)
Chapter One (#ua90b151d-8410-5a66-9ef4-960f25135868)
Chapter Two (#uaf8c72dc-f26c-5abf-9396-4e5ccf4af6ad)
Chapter Three (#u98b1f148-a927-56e2-9908-b223adc5874f)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Prologue
Jacobsen Enterprises External E-mail
From: Joe Jacobsen, CEO, jjacobsen jacobsen.com
To: Shane Jacobsen, sjacobsen hmail.com
CC: Blake Jacobsen, bjacobsen jacobsenministries.com
Date: Friday, April 13
Subject: Job
Shane,
Happy birthday, Grandson!
Now that you are twenty-five, I’m going to ask you once again to join the family company. I’ve attached a job description that I hope will finally tempt you. I’ll stop by your place Saturday to discuss it with you.
P.S. Your grandmother and I expect to see you at our estate this Sunday for Easter dinner. Be there at five and feel free to bring that lovely assistant of yours, Lindy. If you have questions, don’t hesitate to contact me.
J.J.

Chapter One
It had been the best, and worst, sex of her life. As Lindy Brinks sat up in bed, she wondered how she could have done it.
Wait.
She knew how. If she hadn’t learned that poignant lesson the first time, the man still sleeping beside her had made the second and third lovemaking experiences even more satisfying and more invigorating. His chiseled body had been hard and muscular under her fingers, smooth to her touch, and darn if she hadn’t been swept away all night long.
No, the real question wasn’t what she’d done or how she’d done it, but rather why. For in making love with Shane Jacobsen, Lindy had just made the worst mistake of her twenty-eight-year-old life.
Shane Jacobsen was infuriating. Mind-blowing. Condescending. Phenomenal. A womanizer. Her boss.
And she’d made love to him with her brown eyes wide open, her five-foot-seven body more than willing. Oh yes, definitely more than willing.
As Lindy looked around Shane’s bedroom, she knew she had no one to blame but herself. No one had forced down her throat the strawberry daiquiris she’d drunk last night during Shane’s twenty-fifth birthday celebration-slash-pool party. After Shane handed her the first red slushy concoction, Lindy had made the subsequent trips to the bar herself. She really had no excuse for her wanton behavior.
Grimacing, Lindy climbed out of bed, careful not to wake him. She tripped over something soft, and as she caught herself against the bed, she saw Shane’s comforter beneath her feet. That had been tossed aside early in the evening. Lindy cringed as she stepped over it. Shane Jacobsen was a playboy to the nth degree, so why had she let herself join his long line of female conquests? Being Shane’s personal assistant, she knew every single detail of what he was all about.
Fool! Fool! Fool!
Mentally cursing herself, Lindy slipped into her undergarments and touched her hair. The back of her head felt like a rat’s nest and she tugged, desperately trying to use her fingers to straighten the blond strands snarled by the pleasures of the night before. The morning-after movement sent a sharp, searing pain between her eyes, reminding Lindy again exactly how much alcohol and how little sleep she’d had. Fixing her hair without a brush was hopeless.
A small groan escaped Shane, and distracted by the sound, Lindy took a moment to study the man sleeping on the rumpled sheets. For three years now she’d worked for him, watching women practically throw themselves at him, including the buxom redhead who had been nibbling on his ear when Lindy had arrived at last night’s party. And despite herself and her desire to do otherwise, she couldn’t blame all those women for falling for Shane. There was no denying that he was beautiful.
His straight, naturally surfer-blond hair fell forward into his face, and Lindy resisted the urge to sweep it back from his high cheekbones and chiseled nose. No, last night she’d already had her hands in those strands way too much. She’d committed enough mistakes for one evening, and she certainly didn’t need to start over now that the sun was up.
But wasn’t that one of life’s little ironies? She hadn’t planned on staying at his party, especially after she’d realized that Shane, who never drank, had had several of the daiquiris himself.
Lindy remembered cringing, knowing that Shane had been on some pretty impressive painkillers after wrenching his knee during a basketball game the Wednesday night before. No wonder he’d been having such a good time at his party. The label, the one he’d obviously ignored, had said not to mix the medicine with alcohol.
But that was typical Shane. A typical male, he thought he was invincible. And being his personal assistant, aka keeper, she’d stayed, especially after he’d detached himself from the redhead, come over to her side and shouted, “Everyone, this is Lindy, the love of my life. Lindy, everyone.”
It had been like something from a classic John Hughes teenage-angst movie. “Hey, Lindy,” various faceless people had shouted, and then Shane had pressed a frozen strawberry daiquiri into her hand.
“Come on, Lindy. Let’s have fun,” he’d said, and then he’d swept her along, never quite allowing her to leave his side. So when he’d turned to her later that night, telling her that he needed a birthday kiss, she’d given him just one.
But then his seeking lips had demanded another, and then another.
And Lindy, freed by the alcohol she usually avoided like the plague, had let him lead her right down the path of temptation and eternal destruction. And kissing him—no, she didn’t need to think about how wonderful that had been or how good his lips had felt.
She watched Shane nestle deeper into the fluffy down pillow. Thankfully his eyes were closed. Like all his siblings and cousins, Shane had inherited the Jacobsen blue eyes—light blue with an outer darker rim. The promise of wickedness and pleasures evident in his gorgeous eyes had been her absolute undoing last night.
Lindy turned away and started searching for the rest of her clothes. Embarrassment stole over her as she discovered various pieces, including her jeans, in the living room.
Finally dressed, she stood in the doorway to Shane’s bedroom and allowed herself one last look. The white sheet had slipped to his waist, revealing the well-muscled chest she had palmed with wild abandon. Lindy resisted the urge to go and cover his nakedness with the sheet. Best she never get that close to him again.
She slipped on her flats and walked stealthily to the pool-house door. Moving out was something his grandfather had been hounding him about of late. But why should Shane move when he commandeered, rent-free, the entire two-thousand-square-foot pool house that sat on his father’s estate?
Besides, it wasn’t as if Shane ever saw his world-famous parents. This month they were somewhere in Australia doing charity work and evangelical revivals. With a ministry second only to the Billy Graham dynasty, Blake and Sara Jacobsen were usually quite embarrassed about their wayward, playboy son.
That was when they remembered him at all, which was why their son had thrown the impromptu party. Lindy sighed as she reached for the door handle. She couldn’t blame her mistake on Blake and Sara Jacobsen’s forgetfulness. Even if Shane had been raised mainly by nannies, and he stayed close to home just to be a thorn in his parents’ sides, sleeping with him was no one’s fault but her own.
As Lindy turned the doorknob, she took one last look at the living area. Shane’s shorts lay near the coffee table and empty beer bottles were everywhere. Had Shane had beer, too? Even though he had the reputation of a playboy, in her three years of working for him, Lindy had never seen him liquored up like last night. She shook her head to clear it, wincing as the pain hit her forehead again.
The writing was on the wall. Fool, she cursed herself again as she pulled the door shut behind her. Time to find another job.
SHANE JACOBSEN STRETCHED, and then let his head fall back onto the soft down pillow. Darn, did his head hurt.
He blinked. The bright sunlight that was filtering in the blinds hurt his eyes worse than the chlorine in the pool. Tossing his arm over his forehead, he shaded his face from the harsh whiteness illuminating his room. Just what time was it anyway? Eight? No one should be up this early on a Saturday morning.
Or was it Sunday? He moved his arm and faced reality as he realized that, much to his surprise, he really didn’t know. His last vague memory was of burrowing his face into something soft, probably his pillow. He sat up, his head pounding from the movement as he tried to remember. Friday he’d turned twenty-five, and the entire event was one long blur.
He felt so over the hill.
He stumbled to the ensuite bathroom, his feet tripping over the cowboy boots he’d left on the floor. He stared at them for a moment. Why were those still there? Why hadn’t Cleo come in to clean yet?
Oh, yeah. Now he remembered. Cleo was off for the weekend because it was Easter. That was probably the excuse his father would use when he finally remembered to call. Despite himself, Shane wanted to laugh again at the bitter irony of it all. Good Friday and Friday, April 13, Shane’s birthday and that of his father, had been on the same day.
When Shane had realized he’d been forgotten—again—he’d decided to throw himself one hell of a party. Or at least he thought he had. Odd, that the memory of the evening was totally black and blank.
Shane frowned as he finished his business and brushed his teeth. There was something about minty-fresh breath that made him feel at least a little better. Then, and only then, did he dare face himself.
Well, Shane old buddy, he said to his reflection in the mirror, welcome to your late twenties. You look like hell.
He did too. His blond hair was well tousled, as if he hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep last night. Stubble covered his jaw, and the Jacobsen-blue-colored eyes that the grandchildren all shared were bloodshot. And was that a red spot on his neck? He rubbed it and shrugged when it didn’t disappear.
He could do with a tall glass of ice water.
The clear icy liquid, though, did little to clear his throbbing head or make his blank memory come back. He winced, suddenly unable to erase the feeling that something, although he didn’t know what, had happened to him besides drinking while taking medication. Like many people, he’d ignored the warning labels. After all, weren’t the labels really only there so people didn’t sue the drug companies? You know, sort of like expiration dates that were never quite right?
Maybe one really did feel older when one turned twenty-five. Shane blinked and stared at the red display of the clock in the built-in microwave. Three-twenty-nine. It was after three in the afternoon?
He ran a hand against the stubble that had started to itch. He never slept this late. Man, okay, he’d learned his lesson. He’d follow the labels from now on.
Still clutching the glass of water, he wandered into the living room. He frowned. Odd. Why were his shorts there? He glanced down at the boxers he’d pulled on when he’d gotten up. No surprise there. He always slept naked. But his shorts?
Maybe he’d gone swimming. Vaguely he remembered that others had, enjoying the pool that his parents always opened early and kept perfectly heated until the St. Louis weather warmed fully, usually by the end of May. But taking a swim didn’t sound right. So exactly what had he done? Had he been with someone? He remembered a redhead trying at one point to nibble on him, but no, he knew without a doubt he hadn’t gotten together with her in any way.
But something was missing and he wished he could remember what it was. He sat down on the couch and surveyed the room. Cleo was going to have a fit when she saw the mess. He pushed aside someone’s half-empty bottle of beer so that he could put his feet up.
“Quite a mess you have here.”
Shane inwardly groaned as his paternal grandfather stepped through the front entryway. Despite his grandfather’s appearance of a thinner version of Santa Claus, Shane knew this visit would be far from jolly. “Feel free to come on in.”
“Seeing that the door was open, I already did. Celebrated a quarter of a century with a bang, didn’t you?” Grandpa Joe said. Shane knew what his grandfather saw: beer bottles and empty daiquiri glasses everywhere. Plates of partially eaten food littered end tables. The living room was a mess.
Grandpa Joe rubbed his snow-white beard thoughtfully before he said, “I take it your father forgot to call. He always was terrible about dates, including his own birthday. Some secretary must have dropped the ball on this one.”
Shane avoided the truth. “Marci and Dan suggested the party. Why not? I turned twenty-five. My car insurance drops now.”
Grandpa Joe’s Jacobsen-blue eyes blinked once as he let Shane’s statements slide. “Of course you should celebrate. You’ve reached a milestone. Which is why I’m here. I have a business proposition for you.”
The dull ache between Shane’s eyebrows intensified. He rubbed the spot. Not again. He knew his grandfather meant well, but didn’t everyone realize that no meant no? “Grandpa Joe, don’t bother. You know the answer is no. I’m not coming to work for Jacobsen.”
Grandpa Joe took a few steps toward the couch; then, seeing an additional mess, decided against sitting down. “Shane, it’s past time for you to take your destiny. I have the perfect position for you.”
“I’ve told you before—I don’t want a position. I have no desire to work for Jacobsen Enterprises. Ever.”
Grandpa Joe made the rare gesture of tossing his hands. “You are so frustrating! You won’t even listen. What is it with you? You weren’t diagnosed as oppositional defiant as a child. Why is it that every time someone suggests something, you dig in like a stubborn old Missouri mule? Is it the only way you can get the attention your parents always forgot to give you as you grew up? Hell, you’d stay in a burning building if someone from the family tried to pull you out. We are not your enemy, Shane.”
Shane clasped his hands together to remain calm. His parents and his family were not the issue, and if they were, he didn’t want to think about it or how many times either his parents or his grandparents had told him they were disappointed in him for not following the path they’d laid out. “I try to keep business and family separate.”
“That’s impossible. We have a family business. You are family. You are needed in the business. You have a business degree and you are darn good. One of the finest I’ve seen. Doesn’t that matter?”
“Look, this isn’t a good time. I’ve got to clean up this mess and call Lindy and…” Shane’s voice drifted off as he realized Grandpa Joe was staring at him. “What?”
“Is that a hickey on your neck?”
Shane rubbed at the spot he’d seen in the mirror earlier. It was a hickey? He hadn’t had one of those since ninth grade. And if he had a hickey, who had he been with?
“Shane, look, I know your father made some mistakes with you. He and your mother either spoiled you rotten or put you out of their minds and let overindulgent nannies raise you while they went out and saved the world. Perhaps I was wrong to not have stepped in earlier and done something about it when you were younger. But you’re twenty-five now. You need to accept your responsibilities to this family instead of languishing like some pathetic playboy with no purpose. If you won’t think of yourself, at least think of Lindy.”
Shane bristled. “Leave Lindy out of this.”
“No, I won’t. The girl has raw business talent. She’s wasted working for you. What do you do that requires a PA? Does she add legitimacy or something to your endeavors?”
“I do real work. My foundation.”
“Yes, your foundation. The one redeeming feature you have. Your foundation is quite generous and you run it well. But that and multiplying your trust fund are not real work.” Grandpa Joe paused. “And Lindy is wasted simply stuffing envelopes and getting rid of your exes. Maybe I should steal her away from you.”
“Don’t you dare go near Lindy. Besides, taking her won’t get what you want. I won’t come work for you.”
Grandpa Joe shook his head. “You know I love you, grandson, but it’s not all about you. You’ve become an empty man, Shane. You skate by because you won’t risk. You choose not to face your demons. I can only hope you wake up and realize that fact before it’s too late to see what’s in front of you. All good things are worth risk. That being said, I’ll see you at Easter dinner. Your grandmother would love it if you brought Lindy. I’ll see both of you tomorrow.” And with that Grandpa Joe stepped over some empty beer bottles and left.
Shane took a long drink of water. He hated being out of control, and Grandpa Joe’s visit had left him reeling. Shane wasn’t afraid of risk. He just had his reasons for not working at the family company, that was all. Besides, he’d carved out a good life for himself. His stubbornness had nothing to do with growing up with minister parents who were always promoting Christianity, saving lost souls and leaving their son in the capable hands of nannies. He’d turned out fine. He just didn’t fit the mold his family created for him.
Enough was enough, Lindy would always tell him. Good old Lindy. She was always there for him, and like always, Shane knew he’d get over this latest dramatic family setback and letdown.
Shane just wished he could remember what had happened. Throwing pity parties wasn’t his style. Not only that, but he never drank much, maybe one drink now and then. Last night had been an exception.
He pushed a wayward strand of hair out of his face. Hopefully he hadn’t done anything that would tarnish the family name further or he’d be sure to hear about that.
Maybe Lindy would know what he’d done, and who besides Marci and Dan had been at the party. Good old Lindy. She was worth more than he paid her. Sure, he knew what everyone whispered. Just as his grandfather had said earlier, everyone agreed. Everyone said he really didn’t need a personal assistant; after all, all he truly did was day-trade and run the Shane Jacobsen Foundation that donated to child-abuse agencies. But Lindy was indispensable, as she’d proved over and over again. And right now he needed her. That thought cheered him up. She’d never let him down before, and he knew she wouldn’t now. All he had to do was ask and she’d make it her job to find out what happened at his party.
Thankfully the cordless phone was still in its place on the end table. Shane picked it up and pushed a button, the only one besides the pizza place that got any use from the phone’s speed dial feature.
“Hello!”
“Lindy! It’s me! Can you—” he began.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not available to take your call right now. Please—”
Shane fumed through the rest of her voice mail’s message. Odd. Where was Lindy? Why wasn’t she answering her cell phone? Even in the dead of night she always answered her cell phone. He tried to remember her pager number as the voice mail beeped the record prompt at him.
“Lindy? Damn it, if you’re there call me. I need to ask you about last night. Do you have any clue what happened to me? Except for this pounding headache, I don’t remember a darn thing.”
AT SIX-THIRTY LINDY TOSSED aside the St. Louis Post-Dispatch. The Sunday employment section, available early Saturday afternoon, had held slim pickings. The few jobs that had looked the slightest bit interesting all had a salary far below what Shane paid her. Unless she wanted to take a major pay cut, for a while she was stuck with him.
She glanced at her cell phone. The words announced three missed calls and two new voice-mail messages. “Persistent, isn’t he?” She picked up the phone and checked the caller ID display. The first number with multiple calling times was, as she’d thought, Shane’s. The second read J. Jacobsen. She frowned. Curious, Lindy dialed her voice mail.
“Lindy, it’s Shane. Where are you? I’ve been calling you all day. I’m starting to get really worried. Call me.”
Lindy hit seven-seven, erasing his newest message before his warm baritone washed over her and melted her resolve. As soon as the right job came along, she had to leave him.
The next message was from Shane’s grandfather. “Lindy? This is Joe Jacobsen. Would it be possible for you to come to my office Monday at nine? I have a few matters I’d like to discuss with you professionally, and Easter dinner is not the time or place. You do know you’re invited? Shane did tell you, right? See you tomorrow and then on Monday.”
Lindy erased that message, reached for her day planner and penciled in 9:00 a.m. Joe Jacobsen. She wasn’t sure what Shane’s grandfather wanted with her on Monday, but in the three years she’d been working for Shane she’d learned to jump when Grandpa Joe said jump. Founder of Jacobsen Enterprises, one of the largest companies in St. Louis, Joe Jacobsen was a self-made man along the lines of Andrew Carnegie. Even though Joe was as kindhearted as a teddy bear, in business and in life he always got what he wanted. As for Easter dinner, she could safely pass on that.
A knock sounded at her door, distracting her from the pressing problem of Shane’s faulty memory and the fact that eventually she’d have to call him back. Her pizza had finally arrived. Lindy rose to her feet, glad that she’d taken a shower after her roommate Tina had left. There had been a lecture—all about Shane’s shortcomings—that Lindy hadn’t needed. She rubbed her head one more time. Her headache had almost totally disappeared, and now with food she’d hopefully finally feel better and find a solution to her current problem.
Besides, after all, she wasn’t sure if she was happy, sad or just plain outright furious. Shane Jacobsen had no idea what had happened to him. The best lovemaking of her life and he didn’t remember it. Of course, she’d spent the whole drive home worried about what to say to him. That problem was solved—he didn’t remember anything.
But darn him! He wasn’t supposed to have blacked out! To be unmemorable, to have been forgotten…She grabbed her checkbook, headed for the door, and pulled it open. Unfortunately, the pizza deliveryman didn’t stand on the threshold.
“Shane!”
“There you are!” Shane rushed in and, before Lindy could move, he enveloped her in a gigantic bear hug. His damp hair fell into his face and an immediate warmth from his body traveled to hers. Her knees wobbled and Shane steadied her before leaning back so that he could see her face. “Lindy, you’ve had me worried sick. I’ve been calling you for hours. Why haven’t you been answering? You are okay, aren’t you?”
Lindy blinked, trying to find focus. Ah, to be in his strong arms again—her traitorous body awakened once more. Her breasts thrust forward as if seeking him, and heat began to pool.
No! Lindy yanked her mind back into full control and drew back a step, away from Shane. Immediate welcome coolness descended as she detached herself from Shane’s embrace. Her knees wobbled as she turned her back to him. Control. She needed control. She concentrated on making her step steady as she walked toward the couch. Thankfully he didn’t seem to notice.
“Why didn’t you call me back?”
“I was taking a nap.” Lindy sat down, her legs more secure against the solid green cushions. Then she made the mistake of looking up at him.
Despite looking vexed, to her Shane had never seemed more beautiful. His jeans molded to his athletic legs, and his polo shirt revealed those wonderful arms that had just again held her tight to his chest. And those blue eyes that had held such promise last night right now revealed endless concern and care that was just for her.
How long had she waited for him look at her this way? As if he felt something for her?
Again she wanted to drown in him, to feel him against her, to let the illusions wash over her. She could still almost feel the way his fingers had stroked her skin and…
“Lindy, you never nap.”
She blinked, fantasy thankfully shattered with his words. “There’s always a first time. That is okay, isn’t it? I was tired so I turned off the phone and took a nap.”
Shane’s full lips turned downward and Lindy fought off a sudden urge and desire to kiss away his frown. “I’m being a cad,” Shane announced. “Are you sick? Can I get you anything? A pillow? Aspirin? What can I do to help?”
Lindy sighed. How could she get riled up at him? He’d been so worried about her not calling him back that he’d shown up on her doorstep. At moments like this Shane was at his best. Shane was not all his playboy image portrayed. After working with Shane for three years, Lindy knew a Shane few others did. She’d seen him when he’d made a dying child’s wish come true; she’d seen him care about situations others had washed their hands of. She’d seen him sit by his friend Dan’s hospital bed during Dan’s illness. And here he was, showing up because he’d been worried about her. How could she even think of leaving him?
Her mind wrestled with her heart as a desperate resolve filled her. She fisted her hands together. For her own long-term sanity and future she had to try. She could not let herself be sucked into the easy charm that was—and always would be—Shane Jacobsen. She was his personal assistant. That’s all she’d ever be, and it was a cruel illusion to pretend otherwise, to dream he might one day fall in love with her.
Deliberately she made her voice cold. “Thanks for being worried about me. But besides that, why are you here? Is there something you needed?”
“Water would be good,” Shane said, totally misinterpreting her chilly undertone. He gave her a smile that could have kept the winter frost from harming the spring tulips. Part of her burned, and she struggled for self-control.
“I’ll get you some.” Grateful for the diversion, Lindy stood, sidestepped Shane, and moved into the kitchen. Once in the safety of the small, enclosed space, she gripped the edge of the counter and gave herself a mental pep talk. She could do this. In Shane’s mind nothing had changed between them. He didn’t remember last night. That was a good thing. All the aces were in her hand. She could play them any way she wished.
Shane was still standing when she left the kitchen. She handed him the tall glass of ice water, and as their fingers touched a raw electric spark shot through her, the same type of shock that had jolted through her last night. Last night she rationalized her reaction to Shane’s touch as being from drinking alcohol. No such excuse existed now. She jumped back and stared at Shane.
“Static,” he said.
“Yes,” Lindy replied.
As he finished his sip of water she could almost see the clear liquid slide down his throat, and she swallowed, too. This man was pure charisma. She just needed to think of him clinically now. That was all.
“Thanks,” Shane said as he sat down on the sofa. “I was worried because you always call me back.”
He took another long drink before placing the glass on a woven coaster that Tina had brought back from one of her trips to London. “I really need to talk to you. I have no memory of last night. The last thing I remember is calling you. I did call you, didn’t I?”
“You did.” Lindy could admit that safely. Her legs suddenly unsteady again, she sat down in a chair located perpendicular to the sofa where Shane sat.
“At least I remember that much.” Shane raked a hand through his now dry hair. “I must have really done a good one last night. Look at this. My grandfather stopped by this afternoon and said I have a hickey.” He moved aside the shirt’s collar and showed Lindy the spot on his neck. “Boy, did I get a lecture.”
Lindy’s hand flew up to cover her open mouth, and for a brief, imperceptible moment she closed her eyes. During their passion, she’d left a mark on his neck. He’d been joined with her, and as he’d swept her along to another crest she’d reached up to kiss him, and…
Her eyes flew open and she jerked her telltale hand away from her mouth and put it in her lap. She’d been so carried away that she hadn’t stopped kissing him. The evidence was right there in front of her like a badge of honor on Shane’s neck. Horrified at what she’d done, she needed all her mettle to steel her face into neutral.
Shane leaned forward and took Lindy’s hand in his. The heat from his touch seared her, and she shifted uncomfortably as her body went into overdrive, once again desiring what it had enjoyed a little more than twelve hours earlier. Would she ever stop wanting him, especially now, after she’d had him? She had to try. She yanked her hand from his.
Shane frowned. “Lindy, how did I get this? I remember a redhead, but I know I didn’t do anything with her. But if I have this, then who was I with?”
Lindy’s heart constricted. At that moment, he looked so vulnerable. But she knew she couldn’t tell him the truth. How could she just say, “Shane, you slept with me. I’m the one you don’t remember. The one that left that mark on your neck.”
Yeah, right. He always saw her as good old Lindy. His PA. A pal. And what type of relationship would she have with Shane if he knew? Not the one she wanted. Men like Shane Jacobsen didn’t marry their PAs. Men like Shane didn’t even know what love was. They thought it was an illusion, a holy grail. No, best he never know the truth.
She gave Shane a narrow look, and he turned his big blue puppy-dog eyes on her. “Let me guess. You want me to find out for you.”
“Yes,” Shane said. “It’ll look awkward if I ask around. No one at the party needs to know I can’t remember. And if anyone can find out discreetly, you can. Please do me this favor.”
All afternoon, Lindy had replayed every detail of the previous night at least a million times. Now she mentally ran through the list of party guests again. No one had seen her get together with Shane.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself for the task ahead, the one that she had to do whether she liked it or not. “No,” Lindy said.
“What?” Shane’s head rebounded and the W-shaped furrow that appeared between his eyes showed his displeasure.
“No,” Lindy repeated. She drew another steadying breath. “Shane, I’m sorry, but this is not in my job description.”
His look of disbelief was Cary Grant classic. “You’re my personal assistant and you’re saying no? You’ve always handled my personal business before. Isn’t this personal business?”
“No. It’s purely personal, not business. We may have developed a friendship over the years we’ve worked together, but you’re my boss, Shane. It’s time each of us remembered that.”
“You’ve done it before, Lindy. Remember when you got rid of Janine for me? She was almost a stalker until you took care of her.”
“Perhaps, but she was interfering with business by showing up at the pool house.”
“And how is this different from then?”
“It just is. Look at you. You don’t even know what happened to you. That’s not my job, Shane, it’s yours no matter how awkward. From this point forward I’m not going to be involved in your personal life. Period.”
Disappointment etched his beautiful features, and at that moment Lindy knew she’d spoiled Shane. Long before last night she’d crossed the line between professional and personal. She’d become his confidant, his problem-solver and his sounding board.
But no more. Not after last night. She had to redraw the line. She was tired of the one-way relationship. She gave; he took. And since a two-way relationship was just a pipe dream, it was best if she drew the line in the sand and put their relationship purely on a business level once and for all until she found another job.
Nerves buzzing, Lindy took another deep breath and attempted to control her inner shaking. “And while we’re at it, Shane, you need to realize that I’m not planning on being with you forever. I’ve got career aspirations. I want to use my degree, not just schedule your dates and buy them roses or a trinket when you’re bored and toss them aside.”
“You can’t be serious.” Shane’s jaw dropped open, his look aghast. “You’re the best PA I’ve ever had. You can’t leave me. I need you.”
Shane needed her. Lindy wanted to cry at that irony. How she wished this was true. She’d taken Psychology 101 in college. Shane really could do all the work for his foundation himself. No, Shane craved attention, not her. Because of his family situation, he’d grown up wanting someone to dote on him, the way she’d been doing the past three years as his personal assistant. That couldn’t be her role any longer. Not after last night.
Lindy forced herself to look at Shane. “I’m the only PA you’ve ever had and I am serious. You need to handle your personal affairs, even if you don’t remember them.”
The jaw she’d planted kisses all over dropped open again. “You really know how to kick a guy when he’s down.” He winced, as if a headache had returned. “Happy birthday, Shane. Find out yourself who you did last night. By the way, I’m leaving.”
“You’re sounding like a spoiled brat,” Lindy said.
Shane blinked. “Only you can take such liberties and call me that.”
“But I’m right.”
He exhaled slowly. “Yes. You’re right I have no excuse except to say that this weekend has me out of sorts. Your news on top of the fact that I have this nagging suspicion that something happened is simply not making for a good day.”
Lindy cringed. She’d been raised to be honest and it went against her grain to tell even a small white lie. But she had no better alternative. In this case, the cliché did not fit. The truth would not set her free.
“Look Shane, maybe nothing happened. Maybe it was a gag. Did you ever think of that? That someone just pinched you really hard on your neck.”
Shane’s jaw set and a muscle in his cheek twitched. “I know you dislike my friends, but none of them are that juvenile.”
She suddenly felt like Kevin Costner’s character in No Way Out. Hiding herself while in charge of finding herself. “Shane, besides Marci and Dan, most of the people you associate with are a bunch of freeloaders or women who just want to be Mrs. Shane Jacobsen. Think about that for a moment. I mean, what do you do that’s real? Honestly, some days I don’t know why you need a PA. It’s not as if the work you do is time-consuming.”
“You sound like my grandfather, who also gave me that lecture earlier today.” Shane let the acrid comment hang for a moment before adding, “He also wants you to come to Easter dinner tomorrow night.”
Lindy took a cleansing breath. Because of Grandpa Joe’s earlier message, she’d had some time to prepare for this dilemma. “I can’t make it.”
Shane stared at her, that beautiful jaw again slightly open. He snapped it shut before speaking. “You’re killing me, Lindy. I don’t need any more bad news or the grief of showing up without you.”
“Shane, I’m your employee. Employees do not go to family Easter dinners.”
“I thought you were my friend.” Shane sat there a long moment. “I even shared my personal journals with you. I’d never before let anyone see what I’d written.”
He had shared with her, and early in their work relationship, Lindy, starry-eyed with love, had let herself get too close to Shane. Her stomach churned as she remembered.
In one journal, Shane had written about the pain of losing a girl he’d fallen in love with at camp, the summer between fifth and sixth grade. Their love had been that sweet innocent kind between two shy people who hardly talk, yet somehow they know they are meant for each other. How Shane had looked forward to seeing her the next year, only to discover upon his arrival that she was on the charter bus pulling away. Years later, Shane still remembered the way she’d pressed her hand against the dirty glass as she disappeared forever from his view.
Yes, Shane had shared his journals with Lindy, and that day one thing had become certain to Lindy—she could never compete with what Shane envisioned his perfect love to be. Lindy would never be enough—never be the one.
But she’d stayed at her job, mostly because she hadn’t had the courage to stay away, becoming daily too attached, falling too hard for the man she cared way too much for, who could never feel the same way in return. But last night she’d well and truly crossed the line, and it gave her a raw, untapped strength. She hated hurting him with her next words, but in the long run it was for the best that a space be placed between them.
“You don’t pay your friends,” Lindy pointed out.
Shane shook his head, sending his blond hair falling forward across his eyebrow. “That argument is weak, Lindy. Weak. I can see I made a mistake worrying about you. That’s something friends would do.”
He stood up, his features etched with frustration as if he’d bitten bitter fruit. Lindy’s fingers longed to smooth away the lines her words had caused. She knew she’d sucker punched him.
First his parents had forgotten his birthday, and now she’d effectively killed their friendship. But her one-sided relationship with him had to stop. She’d known him too long and knew he’d never find that elusive woman he wanted. She couldn’t keep on loving him and remain sane. She had to let him go, even if it was the hardest thing she’d ever do.
“I’m sorry,” she said as Shane put his hand on the doorknob. Even to her own ears her apology sounded lame.
He gave her one last look. “You’re a great assistant, Lindy. Even though you don’t think I really work for a living, I do have some responsibilities. So, I’ll see you Monday morning. You are still planning on showing up, aren’t you?”
There it was. The perfect opportunity to get out professionally, even if it meant taking a pay cut. She’d already indicated she was leaving. Now all Lindy had to cement it was say, “but only until I find another job.” She opened her mouth, but the words finalizing her break with Shane refused to come.
“Monday morning,” Lindy agreed with a nod. She couldn’t look him in the eye, and instead stared at the floor.
The door clicked when he shut it behind him. Then—and only then—did Lindy look up. She stared at the door to her apartment. It desperately needed a fresh coat of paint.
“I’m thinking about paint.” Tears watered her eyes and rivered their way down to wet her cheeks. The opportunity had presented itself, but she hadn’t walked away. Would she ever be able to let Shane Jacobsen out of her life? Fool! Fool! Fool! She again resolved to seriously look for a new job come Monday.
Her home phone rang and Lindy picked it up. “Shane?”
“Is this Lindy Brinks?”
Disappointment mixed with relief. “Speaking.”
“I’m calling about your pizza. We’ve had some oven problems and it’s going to be at least another half hour before we can deliver it. We’re very sorry for the inconvenience. We’ll include a coupon for a free pizza the next time you order. You still want it, right?”
“Sure, send it.” She hung up the phone, a dark depression settling over her. Shane was like the pizza. She still wanted him, but it certainly wasn’t worth the trouble anymore. Too bad she was still hungry.

Chapter Two
“So where’s Lindy?”
“Greetings to you, too,” Shane said as he stepped through the front door of his grandfather’s massive Ladue manse. “Lindy sends her regrets. She can’t make it.”
“Why?” Grandpa Joe’s eyes narrowed and he stroked his white beard thoughtfully. “With her parents on opposite coasts, she doesn’t have any family here. Did she go out of town?”
“Lindy’s in town and I don’t know why she didn’t come,” Shane replied. “She said she had other plans. Besides, I’m her employer, not her keeper.”
Grandpa Joe’s snow-white eyebrows arched. “It sounds like you two have had a spat.”
Was that what had happened yesterday? A spat? Shane considered Grandpa Joe’s antiquated word. In all honesty, even though he’d been thinking about it nonstop, Shane still didn’t know quite what had happened. Even writing in his journal about the weekend’s events hadn’t given him any perspective.
Lindy, good old Lindy who had never once complained about her job, had suddenly hit him between the eyes with what she would and would not do. She was his employee, she’d declared, not his friend. If she’d remain his employee at all.
That still stung. And yes, he’d had to admit to himself in the past twenty-two hours that perhaps he had taken her for granted, that he’d considered her a friend, a sounding board. Perhaps he’d been wrong to have been so free with his confidences and personal requests. But he and Lindy had worked so well together, and never once had she complained.
Shane shifted his weight and followed his grandfather into the huge great room. The rest of the family had already arrived. “Shane!” His half sister Bethany came over and gave him a quick kiss on his cheek. “How are you? I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”
They probably hadn’t talked in ages, Shane thought. Older than him by five years, Bethany, his mother’s daughter from her first marriage, was busy with her successful pediatric practice, her own two children, and her husband.
“So did you have a good birthday? Twenty-five now.” Bethany shook her head. “I can’t believe that in a few months I’ll turn thirty and that Olivia and Nick will hit that three-o mark just a few months after me.”
Shane glanced around the room, seeing his cousin Harry, his wife Megan, and Bethany’s clan. Shane’s half brother, his dad’s son by his first marriage, though, was strangely absent. “Speaking of, where is Nick?”
“He stayed in Chicago,” his half sister Olivia said as she approached. She leaned toward her younger sibling and said conspiratorially, “Word has it that Grandpa Joe isn’t too pleased with my twin brother. And Claire’s in Aruba on a much-needed vacation so she’s forgiven. But Nick’s not.”
“Ah, then maybe the heat will be off me for once,” Shane said.
Olivia’s blue eyes twinkled mischievously. “I doubt that. You know how gossip runs in this family. It’s all over that you had a pretty good party Friday night. Glad it was you and not me. So tell me, have you recovered?”
“All but my memory,” Shane admitted. Thankfully it was a cool night and the turtleneck he wore hid the telltale mark. “I even cleaned up some so that Cleo won’t throw a fit.”
“A wise move,” Olivia said. “Did Sara and Dad ever call?”
“Yeah, this afternoon. Of course it was like 7:00 a.m. Australian time, and of course Monday there.”
“Ooh,” Olivia said. “Did they even try to give you an excuse?”
“You know. New secretary. It was Easter weekend. That type of thing.”
“Cocktail, sir?” James, the family butler and groundskeeper of over twenty years, approached.
“Water is fine,” Shane answered. “And how is Cindy?”
“She’s fine, sir. I’ll tell her you inquired.”
“He’s so funny,” Shane said to Olivia after James had moved away.
“Unlike Dad and Sara, I can’t imagine a family event without James and his wife,” Olivia replied.
“True.” Besides being the family cook, Cindy had also been Shane’s first nanny. They were practically family. Of course, Lindy wouldn’t agree, Shane thought as he reached for the water James was handing him. She’d say they were employees.
The ringing of a knife tapping a glass interrupted Shane’s momentary bitterness. His attention diverted, he turned to see his cousin Harry holding up a champagne glass. “Everyone, before we go into dinner, Megan and I have an announcement to make. In eight months you’ll be welcoming the newest addition!”
Shane saw his grandmother Henrietta clasp her hands together and hug her husband. Then she went and hugged both Harry and Megan. “I think we need champagne,” Grandpa Joe told James.
“On its way, sir.”
“Congratulations,” Shane said later to his Aunt Lilly, Harry’s mother. His hand still clutched his water instead of the expensive bubbly. Lilly, however, was on her second glass.
“Isn’t it wonderful? First Darci, and now Harry. I’m so thrilled. My dad and mom are so thrilled. Look at them.” Lilly gestured toward Grandpa Joe and Henrietta. “New great-grandbabies on their way. After all, Bethany’s youngest is almost five.”
“Ah, but they’ll be Sanders babies, not Jacobsens,” Lilly’s husband Andrew said as he entered the conversation.
“Oh please, Andrew. My dad doesn’t care about that.”
“No, but you know the old coot wants a great-grandbaby with the surname Jacobsen.”
Lilly shot her husband a look of mock disgust. “My father is not an old coot.”
“I work with him. Yes he is.”
Lilly’s Jacobsen-blue eyes twinkled. She and Andrew had been married for over thirty-five years, and as president of Jacobsen Enterprises, Andrew was Grandpa Joe’s right-hand man. “Okay, I’ll admit he is. But maybe these great-grandbabies will keep him so busy that it’ll stop him from meddling so much.”
Andrew laughed, put his arm around her, and pulled his wife closer to his side. “Nah. I’m sure he’ll just turn his attention to your brother’s children. What do you think about that, Shane? Even though Claire’s the eldest, it’s only you and Nick who can pass on the Jacobsen name.”
“Huh?” He hadn’t been paying attention. Both Lilly and Andrew peered curiously at him.
“You aren’t worried that you’re next in Grandpa Joe’s quest to marry off his grandchildren?” Andrew asked.
Was he next? Grandpa Joe had made no secret of his matchmaking and meddling in Darci’s and her brother Harry’s lives. So was he next? Shane shook his head. Time to put an end to that idea. “You know I love my grandfather, but if he hasn’t been able to get me into the family company, do you really think he can pick my wife? He’ll have better luck with Nick, not me.”
Andrew laughed, which didn’t sit well with Shane. “Are you certain? I wouldn’t put it past him to start with you.”
Great. “I won’t let my guard down.”
Andrew gave Shane a manly pat on the back and Shane had the feeling Andrew knew something he didn’t. “You do that. Be sure you do that.”
“Dinner,” James announced.
AT THE END of the main course, Henrietta leaned toward Shane. As always, his grandmother smelled of fresh lavender. “Isn’t it wonderful news about Harry and Megan? This old house has been too long without tiny babies.”
Not knowing how to respond, Shane simply nodded. His grandmother smiled, and then placed her warm left hand over his right one. “You do know the pressure is going to be on you?”
Not again. “I’m not getting married.”
Henrietta patted his hand. “Oh no dear, not that. My husband thinks I don’t know anything, but there’s a bond between a mother and her son. Do you think Blake doesn’t tell me what’s going on? I know Joe’s been trying to get you to the corporate offices for quite a while. And with Megan’s job opening up, he’s really going to want you. After all, you went to Princeton like he did.”
Shane set his jaw stubbornly. That had been the one and only thing he’d ever done that had pleased his grandfather. “Family is family, business is business. I don’t want to mix the two.”
Henrietta gave him a sympathetic smile. “I know, but your grandfather will never understand that. When he sees what he wants, he goes for it. How do you think he won me all those years ago? Stole me away from Steve Boswell. I didn’t think your grandfather could be the one. But somehow he wormed his way into my life and swept me right off my feet. One day I just realized that although he wasn’t what I’d expected the dream to look like, he was the one that would make it all come true.”
Shane frowned. “Well, I’m not liable to just fall for someone he waves in front of my nose. Love is much more than that.” Isn’t it?
“Of course it is. But love isn’t just a feeling. It’s also a choice. You young people are much more modern these days, so much so that I think you wait for a moment that never comes. Speaking of not coming, what happened to that nice assistant you have? Lindy? I was so disappointed that she wasn’t able to be here tonight. But Joe said he’d ask her why tomorrow.”
That caught Shane’s attention. “Tomorrow?”
“Yes. I think he’s meeting her at 9:00 a.m.”
“Really.” The honeybaked ham that had been dinner flipped in Shane’s stomach.
“Dessert,” James said. He placed a coconut cake confection down. Despite the beauty of the dessert, Shane didn’t think he could tolerate one bite.
Shane stared down the table to where his grandfather sat deep in conversation with Megan. So Grandpa Joe was meeting Lindy tomorrow. Grandpa Joe’s words resounded in Shane’s head. Maybe I should just steal her away from you.
Was that why Lindy had refused to come tonight? Was that why she’d cut him out as a friend? Was she going to Jacobsen Enterprises without him?
Shane’s eyes narrowed. Grandpa Joe was as elusive as an eel when necessary. Shane would just have to wait and ask Lindy tomorrow. After all, she never was very good at hiding things from him.
BY NOON Shane found himself pacing the small confines of the room that served as his and Lindy’s office. He’d expected her long before this.
Suddenly he heard the front door. He sat in his chair for a brief moment before rising again. Casual. He needed to act casual. He stepped into the living room just as Lindy shut the front door.
Trying to remain calm, he leaned himself against the doorjamb. And then, his body quickening, he just stared. Lindy wore a suit. While he’d seen her before in professional office clothes, something was different. Just when had she gotten those legs? Legs that seemed to run on forever and disappear underneath that short blue skirt? Wow. He’d always thought her pretty, but now…he’d never reacted to Lindy like this before. He swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. “Forget to call me again?”
Lindy drew herself up. The smile she gave him didn’t quite meet her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought I told you that I wouldn’t be in until noon.”
It was her cool tone that did it, the truth she didn’t reveal, that caused Shane to straighten and walk toward her. Despite her heels adding to her five-foot-seven-inch height, Shane’s six-foot frame still towered over her. To hell with being casual. “So tell me, are those clothes just for my benefit?”
“I thought I’d dress up for once. We always dress so casual,” Lindy replied. She shifted her weight, and Shane stepped closer to her. Lindy blinked.
“Oh Lindy, be honest. Do you think I wouldn’t figure it out?”
“You know?” Panic covered her face, sending powerful emotions flooding into her big brown eyes.
“Of course I know.”
“I didn’t think you’d…I mean, I didn’t tell you because—”
“I’m not a fool, Lindy. So tell me, did you enjoy your meeting with my grandfather?”
HIS GRANDFATHER. Lindy wanted to laugh with the irony of it all. She’d been thinking, she’d thought, oh, thank goodness. He still had no memory of Friday night.
Lindy took a calming breath to still her racing heart. “Yes, I met with your grandfather.”
“And?” Shane leaned closer.
Lindy sidestepped Shane and put her briefcase on the coffee table. Obviously Cleo had been in to clean already. The place was spotless. She turned back to face Shane. Might as well get it over with. “With Megan’s announcing her pregnancy and her decision that she wants to stay at home after the baby, your grandfather plans to do some reshuffling of employees. When the time comes he’ll fill Megan’s spot with someone from his Jacobsen Stars upper-level-management program, but right now he thought I would be perfect for a midlevel position that is currently open.”
“I see.” Shane ran a hand through his hair. “Just as I expected. He said as much when he came over here Saturday. You do realize that this is all just a ploy to get me into the company? Steal the assistant so the grandson will follow?”
After working for Shane for three years, Lindy knew the entire family situation. But it didn’t matter. “I told you I have career aspirations, Shane. There are a lot of benefits to working for Jacobsen. Not that I don’t enjoy working for you, but at least at the broker’s office I came into contact with other people.”
He frowned. “We get a lot of requests for money from the foundation. You’re in contact with people all the time.”
“Sure, on the phone. I have no work colleagues that I do things with.”
“You have me.”
That, of course, was the problem. Lindy took a calming breath. “Besides you.”
“Is there something wrong with working in a small office?”
Yes! We made love all night! “No, but it’s not enough. Not anymore.”
Shane again raked his hand through his blond hair, a sure sign he was agitated. “I don’t understand you, Lindy. Everything was fine Friday afternoon and today it’s night-and-day different. What the hell is going on? Has your roommate been on your case about me again?” He paused, his blue eyes searching her face. “I can see from your expression that she has.”
Adopting a defensive posture, Lindy squared her shoulders. “Tina’s only looking after my best interests.”
“And you don’t think that I am?”
Not in the way she needed. But she couldn’t tell him that. Thus, for a moment Lindy paused, remembering the conversation she and Tina had had. Tina had called Shane a playboy who would never grow up. Then she’d said, “Lindy, you’re a personal assistant to a man with too much money. He’s never had to do a day of work in his life. That’s not a job. In my book, that’s called baby-sitting. Heck, because of this man you can’t even have a real relationship with anyone. Craig’s a nice guy and you’ve never really given him a chance. Just a few odd dates here and there.”
No, for three years Lindy had given Shane the best of her, never once asking for anything in return. All other men paled when judged by the Shane factor.
Lindy looked at Shane, whose expression still showed that he was waiting for her answer. She searched desperately for the right words, finally settling on, “I think that I need more.”
Shane moved across the room and stood close to her. “More what? Money? Done. You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had. I’ll pay you—” he named a figure that was astronomical, and more than what Grandpa Joe had offered earlier. In less than a minute he had practically doubled her salary.
“I—” Lindy choked as she tried to speak. The salary he’d offered would allow her to save for the down payment on a house. She’d be able to move herself into a comfortable financial position, one that would secure her future. Money was her absolutely weakest spot because she’d grown up with hardly any.
So, was she prostituting herself if she stayed? Could she stay with him for a short while longer? Resolve filled her as her mind overrode her emotions. She should take Shane’s counteroffer back to Grandpa Joe. That’s what she should do. She steeled herself. Yes, that’s what any good businesswoman would do.
He must have sensed her indecision because he stepped forward and took her hands in his. Heat and warmth from his touch immediately spread through her. His gaze gently held hers. “Lindy, I need you. Stay.”
Emotions poured through Lindy, overriding the common sense and mental control she’d been struggling to hang on to. Her ability to reason and think flew out the window. It had always been like that with Shane. All he ever had to do was touch her or look at her with those blue eyes, just as he was doing now, and she’d be swept away. She couldn’t resist him.
He was her downfall.
“One month.” The words escaped from her mouth, buying her time. “I’ll decide at the end of a month. I’ll give you at least one more month, and then decide after that what I’m going to do.”
A jubilant smile lit up Shane’s face, and Lindy turned her head away. He dropped her hands, allowing her a fraction more self-control as the heat from his touch subsided. “You know I’ll convince you to stay longer.”
“We’ll see.” She struggled to calm her racing heart.
Shane, however, was now back to business. “Since we have at least a month, can we now get things back to normal between us?”
She doubted things would ever be normal between them again. But what was one more lie? “Sure. Now I’ve got a lot of work to do. Those foundation requests that you were expecting arrived in today’s mail. As soon as I process everything I’ll get them ready for you.”
“That sounds fine.”
Lindy gathered her things and headed into the office. Up until today she’d always thought it was overly large. But now, with Shane’s desk so close to hers, the space seemed impossibly small. How could she work right beside him?
One month. She could do one month. That would give her time to renegotiate the job with Grandpa Joe, and then make a move to Jacobsen Enterprises. She’d give herself one month to begin to heal her heart and say her final goodbyes to Shane.
“I REALLY DON’T THINK you should go to work today.” Tina stood in the doorway to the apartment’s hall bathroom. “Whatever you’ve got, Lindy, you’ve got it bad.”
Lindy wiped her mouth on the wet washcloth that Tina handed her. “Really, I’ll be fine. Those chicken taquitos we had for dinner yesterday just didn’t sit well. I was burping them up all night.”
Tina leaned over, averting her eyes as she flushed the toilet for Lindy. “Well, there they go, or at least their remnants.”
Still clutching the washcloth to her lips, Lindy got to her feet. “I feel funny. Do I feel warm?”
Tina put her hand on Lindy’s forehead. “No. No fever. I think you probably just had food poisoning.”
“That’s what I think, although I don’t know why it didn’t claim you, too.”
“I only ate one of them. You had like six or seven. Anyway, why don’t you go back to sleep? I’ll call Shane and tell him you aren’t coming. I’m going to be home all day, since my next flight assignment isn’t until tomorrow morning.”
Lindy’s eyes widened in panic. “You can’t call Shane! I can’t call in sick. This Friday will end the month I promised him, and I’m giving him my two weeks notice. Until then, I don’t want him to think that anything’s wrong. You know I’m going to Jacobsen. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
Tina nodded. “And it’s about time. But you really aren’t well.”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want him worried. I’ve got to go in. I’ve got so much to do. I want things to be settled by the time I tell Shane that I’m leaving. As it is he’s not going to understand. We’ve had a pretty good truce this past month.”
Lindy put the washcloth down and reached for her toothbrush and the toothpaste. “I’m sure I’ll feel better now that all this stuff is out of my system.”
“If you’re sure. You call me if you need me. I can always come get you.” Tina stepped out of the room. “That’s what friends are for, you know.”
Lindy studied her pale face in the mirror. Besides her stomach upheaval, her nose was stuffy. She pressed her fingers to the sides of her throat. About this time every year, she always ended up on antibiotics. She was allergic to something that arrived each spring and even though her glands weren’t swollen yet, it must be getting close to that time. She’d give it another day and if she didn’t feel better, she’d call her doctor.
SEVERAL HOURS and one package of Hostess Ho Ho’s later, she was feeling much better. She took a drink of her bottled water and leaned back in satisfaction. She’d finally finished organizing all the files. They were in great shape for whomever took her place.
“Ho Ho’s?” Shane remarked as he entered the office. “You’ve become quite the junk-food nut this past week. First M&M’s and now Ho Ho’s. What did you eat for lunch?”
“Caesar salad.”
“Impressive. Where’s your trademark banana?”
“I finished that earlier.” Lindy looked up. As always, Shane was dressed in a polo shirt and jeans. “Is there something you need?”
“Yes. I need concert tickets and dinner reservations.” He rattled off a name and a date at her and hastily Lindy wrote it on her scratch pad.
“How many?”
“Two. I’m taking Cathy Barnes.”
Lindy looked up sharply. Having arrived in St. Louis a month ago, blond bombshell Cathy Barnes was the new gossip and sex-help columnist for one of St. Louis’s alternative dailies. She also hosted a call-in radio talk show—and was set on being Mrs. Shane Jacobsen. Lindy had immediately hated her. “Is this a date?”
Shane looked up from the mail he was going through. “So what if it is?”
Lindy placed her hands carefully on the desk, gripping the edges of the cherry-wood surface for support. “Organizing your dates is no longer in my job description.”
“And how is that different than if I was taking out a client?”
“You don’t have any clients.”
“Foundation people then,” Shane argued. His jaw set stubbornly. “When did you get so difficult?”
She ignored that. “Take it or leave it. At least your grandfather treats me like a professional and not a personal slave. I am not getting you concert tickets so that you can go out with Cathy Barnes. She’s a snake.”
Shane’s face creased in surprise. “What is with you? If I didn’t know you so well, I’d say you were jealous.”
Lindy flattened her palms against the smooth surface of the desk, in an attempt to regain some self-control. Jealous? Always. But she’d learned to live with it. Until she’d slept with Shane Jacobsen. Now the thought of him being with anyone else, especially after her, was unbearable. She trembled. Just two more weeks and she would be free of him, and hopefully able to put the green-eyed jealousy monster behind her.
“No.” She stared at him, a sudden courage evident in her eyes. After all, what could he do? Fire her? She already had a new job.
Shane finally blinked, his expression telling her he didn’t understand, or like, the situation at all. “Fine. You don’t have to get involved. I’ll handle it myself.”
“Thank you.”
“Sure.” Shane watched as Lindy turned back to her computer keyboard. Just what was up with her now? She was so unlike Lindy. The old Lindy never refused him anything, or ate junk food. Or looked so pale.
He didn’t have time to think about it because just then an overseas call came through. But he did think about it an hour later when he decided not to call about the concert tickets. No, without Lindy running interference, his dating life was about to go down the tubes.
He leaned back in his desk chair and studied her for a moment. He probably needed a break from the singles scene anyway. Ever since Easter, Grandpa Joe had been sending e-mails about women he thought Shane should meet. Shane had refused to even acknowledge that he’d received the correspondence.
“I need to take this to the post office,” Lindy said. She stood up. “Is there anything else you need?”
“No.” And then he understood. He’d been right. Something was wrong. He knew it instinctively, and his instinct had never failed him. “Lindy? Are you okay?”
“I’m—” Lindy put a hand to her mouth, turned and made a run for it. Shane followed her to the bathroom and pressed his head against the closed door. The sounds coming from inside told him all he needed to know.
“I’m calling a doctor.”
“I’m fine!”
Shane smiled despite himself. She was so stubborn. “You’re hacking up a lung.”
“And you’re a hypochondriac. Really, I—” She stopped, overcome by another bout of nausea.
Shane grimaced. Lindy really was sick. He’d been right to trust his instincts. After all, it was his intuition that had made him millions on the stock market, and freed him from his beloved Grandpa Joe’s tentacles.
To give Lindy some privacy, Shane went in search of his cell phone and dialed his sister. “Hey, Bethany.”
“Shane. What’s up? You caught me right between patients.”
“Lindy’s sick. She’s throwing up in my bathroom. Maybe I’m paranoid, but you know what happened to Dan. I’d better be safe than sorry.”
“Yes, I remember. Hold that file a minute, Marge, it’s my brother. Okay, I’m back. What are her symptoms?”
Shane paused. “She looks pale. She’s not been eating right. She’s throwing up.”
“Does she have a fever?”
Did she? Shane frowned. “I don’t think so. But her nose is very congested.”
He heard Bethany sigh. “She’s probably got a virus, Shane. It sounds like she just needs some rest. Tell her to take some decongestants for the stuffy nose and if she has a fever tell her to take two acetaminophen tablets every four hours. If she’s not better in another twenty-four hours, or if she runs a fever, she needs to see her doctor.”
Shane frowned. “That’s it?”
His sister sounded busy. “Yes, unless she’s pregnant.”
“She’s not pregnant.”
“Then she’s got a virus. Call me later if you need to, but right now I’ve got to go because I’m way off schedule.”
“Thanks.” Shane set the phone down and walked back to the bathroom door. “Lindy? Are you all right?” He heard the telltale flushing and then the sound of water running in the sink.
“I’m fine,” Lindy finally called. “I think it was the salad. The dressing must have had a lot of egg in it. You know I’m allergic to eggs in large amounts.”
“Bethany says you probably have a virus. You need to rest and take acetaminophen.”
Lindy opened the door. She looked even paler, if that were possible. Shane was really concerned now. He stepped aside to let her leave the bathroom.
“Maybe it’s the yearly allergy thing I always get,” she said. “Just a different variation this time.”
“Or you could be pregnant.”
HE MEANT IT as a joke to cheer her up, to lighten the moment. She could see the good intentions written all over his face. But his joke wasn’t funny. Could she be pregnant? Fear filled her. Had Shane used a condom? She couldn’t remember. No. She couldn’t be pregnant. Fate couldn’t be so cruel. Sure, she wanted children, but not now. Not like this.
“I’m not pregnant,” Lindy said, but doubt crept into her mind and took root. After all, she was late. But her cycle being late was nothing new. Not every woman’s cycle ran like clockwork, and Lindy was often as much as fifteen days late. She gave Shane a reassuring smile, although her mind was hardly reassured. “Stop being worried. I’m fine now. I’m sure it was just the egg in the Caesar salad.”
He didn’t look convinced. “I want you to take the rest of the day off. Go home. Rest. Sleep.”
“Really, I have those letters to do and—”
“They’ll wait. I insist you go home.” Shane followed her to her desk. Lindy took a long sip of water. Her stomach again felt queasy.
“You know I’m going to win this battle,” he said quietly.
A small smile crept onto Lindy’s face. She did know. When his friend Dan had started having strange symptoms it had been Shane who had insisted Dan go to the hospital. Shane’s paranoia had saved Dan’s life. At moments like this, it was one of his best attributes. Even though she knew she didn’t have meningitis as Dan had, Lindy caved. “You win. I’m going home. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Do you want me to drive you?”
Lindy’s heart overflowed. Sometimes Shane could be so thoughtful. If only—she pushed those fantasies out of her head. In two weeks, she’d be out of Shane’s life forever. She had to remember that she was just his employee. “That’s sweet, but really I’ll be fine.”
His brow furrowed. “Okay, but if you need anything you call me.”
“Sure,” Lindy replied. For one last moment she let herself revel in Shane’s concern.
He smiled at her. “Go home.”
“Going,” Lindy said. Fifteen minutes later she pulled into the drugstore parking lot. She glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. Before she’d only looked pale. Now she looked afraid.
Could she be pregnant? Shane’s words had planted the idea in her head, and once she’d gotten to her car she’d thought of nothing else. And she was queasy, throwing up, and late with her monthly cycle.
She reached up and felt her throat. Her glands were normal. She blinked. This was all going to turn out fine. Just fine.
She went into the store. Minutes later, she exited with a pregnancy test that promised results in as little as three minutes. She’d also bought a jumbo-size bag of Hershey Kisses, her favorite stress food. After all, it was Murphy’s Law. Be prepared for the worst and it wouldn’t happen to you. Or something like that.
It seemed like forever, instead of the five minutes it actually took her to reach the parking space at her apartment. She walked up the two flights of stairs to her third-floor apartment. The May day was perfect—sunny, no humidity, in the low seventies. But Lindy couldn’t appreciate anything, not with this cloud of impending doom hanging over her head.
She dropped the bag of foil-wrapped chocolates on the kitchen counter and headed into the bathroom. After reading the directions, she took the test.
Her cell phone shrilled and Lindy left the bathroom to get it. Her shoulders slumped as she read the caller ID. Shane. She certainly didn’t need him showing up on her doorstep again. Not today. She answered the call. “Hello.”
“Hi. I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
“I did,” Lindy said. She walked back into the bathroom. The pregnancy test was exactly where she’d left it, lying on the countertop, white plastic on beige Formica.
Shane’s warm baritone rumbled in her ear. “So how are you feeling? Any better? You’ve crawled into bed, haven’t you?”
“Uh, yes,” Lindy stammered, her attention diverted by the lines forming in each of the test windows. The pink line in the larger window confirmed the test was complete. The pink line in the other window meant—
Lindy let her legs collapse out from under her as she slid down the bathroom door. Her rear hit the cool tile and she leaned back against the doorframe.
“Lindy? Are you feeling better? Do you need anything? I can be there in twenty minutes. I’m worried about you. You are feeling better, right?”
No. Lindy closed her eyes. She wouldn’t be feeling like herself again for nine months. And she never would be free of Shane Jacobsen. Not when she was having his baby.
“I’m fine, Shane,” she lied. “I’m just fine.”

Chapter Three
“Oh, my God! No wonder you were so sick yesterday! You’re pregnant!”
Uh-oh. Lindy winced before glancing over to watch Tina storm out of the bathroom, positive pregnancy test in hand. “Put down that pancake syrup and tell me the truth, Melinda Jean Brinks! This is yours, isn’t it, which means that you are pregnant!”
“Yes,” Lindy said. All night she’d been patting her flat stomach, imagining the changes she couldn’t yet feel—changes she knew would be evident in just a few months. Lindy spoke again, as if by telling her best friend she made it even more real. “Yes, I’m pregnant.”
To avoid Tina’s speculative gaze, Lindy let the syrup run over the pancakes. The trash bag rustled, indicating that Tina had disposed of the test.
Pancakes ready, Lindy used breakfast as an excuse to step out of Tina’s orbit. Once married herself, Tina was a take-charge, no-nonsense woman whom Lindy often envied. Tina wouldn’t waffle; she’d just keep going straight ahead the way she had when her husband had started cheating on her. Lindy sat at the tiny kitchen table, the small bite of pancake tasting papery against her tongue.
“I don’t know if I want to know,” Tina said, breaking the short silence, “but you know I must. On a hopeful note, Craig’s?”
“You know I don’t feel anything for him,” Lindy said, her focus still on her plate. “I feel guilty enough that he likes me, but I can’t get into him. I haven’t seen him for two months and never once did I do more than kiss him good-night.”
“So that means it’s…”
“Shane’s,” Lindy confirmed. She glanced up in time to see the look of disapproval that crossed Tina’s face when she heard Shane’s name. Lindy quickly continued, “But he doesn’t know.”
“He doesn’t know.” Tina’s tone changed abruptly as the implications of that revelation set in. “If he doesn’t know, then what are you planning on doing? Surely, no—”
“No. I’m having this baby,” Lindy said hurriedly. “I will not have an abortion, nor will I have the baby and give it away.”
The former had been something Tina had done when she was twenty, and regretted to this very day. When Lindy had lain awake all night, contemplating, she’d known that, without a doubt, she’d never terminate a pregnancy. She’d manage—somehow.
Tina’s voice cut through the sudden silence. “I’m glad. But, since you’re planning on having this baby, you are planning on telling Shane, aren’t you?”
The words were out before Lindy could think to stop them. “He doesn’t even know that we had sex.”
Tina thumped onto the chair opposite Lindy. She pushed back a wayward strand of her brunette hair. “I really think you need to tell me about this.”
Lindy stabbed at a piece of pancake, although she didn’t lift it to her lips. “There’s really nothing to tell. He threw that party for his birthday, and fool that I am, after he called me, I went. He’d been mixing alcohol and painkillers, and I got way too drunk. End of story. I, like most stupid women, succumbed to the Shane Jacobsen playboy charm.”
“And…”
Lindy dropped the fork and pushed her barely touched breakfast plate away. “Best sex of my life and he doesn’t remember a thing.”
“Oh, honey!” Tina reached over and enveloped Lindy in a huge bear hug. “I’m so sorry. But haven’t I been warning you about him?”
“Yes, and I admit it, I knew better.” Tears brimmed in Lindy’s eyes but she sniffed them back. No more tears. She’d cried enough over Shane Jacobsen. “You’re right, I know better! But I couldn’t help it. It was like someone took over my body and set me free to indulge in my greatest fantasy. And indulge I did. And I know I have no excuse for my behavior.”
“That’s good, I guess,” Tina acknowledged.
“But I love him. Or is it just obsession? Whatever it is, he’s my Willoughby. You know, like in Sense and Sensibility? I know he’s wrong for me, but I can’t help myself from caring. Why can’t I be sensible?”
“Lindy, it’s okay to admit you love him, and it’s okay to hurt.” Tina pulled Lindy closer. “I know you love him, and believe me, he doesn’t deserve you. I wish that somehow you’d find that Colonel Brandon who will love you. I know he’s out there, and you know I’ll be here for you, like always, whatever you decide.”
“I know. Thank you.” Lindy let herself rest in her best friend’s arms, the way she’d been doing ever since high school.
“Nothing has an easy answer anymore,” Lindy finally said. “My pregnancy will be obvious in a short while. It’s not like I can hide it!”
“Shh,” Tina said gently. She drew back slightly. “You’ve got a little time to figure things out. And this apartment is big enough for a baby. At least for now. And you have that new job to consider. The pay will be a big help. So eat your breakfast.”
“I just hope it stays down,” Lindy said as Tina pushed the plate of pancakes back in front of her.

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