High-Powered, Hot-Blooded by Susan Mallery Page A

loaded. There were dozens of people walking and driving in every direction. Following the signs that pointed to the corporate offices, she managed to find the visitors’ parking spaces and make her way into the six-story building.
    It was an empire and a half, she thought as she stood in the lobby of Patrick Industries. A huge lit board showed a world map. Thousands of lights indicated the location of various company vehicles. Little icons indicated trucks, railcars and ships.
    Annie had always known Duncan was a rich, powerful man. But those were just words. They hadn’t been real. An intellectual understanding wasn’t the same as looking at that map and seeing how incredibly successful he was.
    She tugged at the sleeve of her oversize sweater, aware that the Christmas elves dancing across the front and back of it were great for a kindergarten classroom but a little out of place in corporate America. There was a big paint stain on her skirt and the back was wrinkled from the time she’d spent sitting on the floor while reading to her students.
    “Ms. McCoy?”
    Annie turned toward the speaker. A well-dressed woman in her thirties smiled.
    “Mr. Patrick is expecting you. If you’ll follow me, please.”
    Annie nodded.
    They took the elevator to the sixth floor and stepped out onto a quiet floor of conference rooms and offices. People in suits moved purposefully, barely glancing at her. She followed the woman to an open double door. Inside, a middle-aged woman nodded.
    “You can go right in.”
    Annie stared at the tall, wood door in front of her. It looked heavy and impressive. Unexpected nerves danced in her stomach.
    Still clutching the letters from the colleges, she opened the door and walked into Duncan’s office.
    The space was even larger than his condo. Big windows overlooked the shipping yard on one side and the lobby on the other. Apparently this particular king enjoyed looking at his empire.
    His desk was practically big enough for a plane to land on. There was a grouping of sofas in one corner and a conference table in another.
    The man himself sat looking at a computer screen. He tapped a few keys, then glanced at her and raised his eyebrows.
    “An unexpected pleasure,” he said as he stood and walked around the desk.
    He looked good. Too good. She’d seen him in his tailored suits before, so that wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Maybe the problem was less than twelve hours ago, she’d been in his bed and they’d both been naked. They’d slept in a tangle of legs and arms, only to awaken and make love again.
    He stopped in front of her. “Everything all right?” he asked. “You look pale. Don’t you feel well?”
    Apparently unable to speak, she thrust the letters at him, then managed to find her voice. “You did this, didn’t you? I won’t even ask how you got the information to make the payments. It was the twins, wasn’t it? You talked to them.”
    One corner of his mouth curved up. “I thought you weren’t going to ask.”
    She shook the papers. “This isn’t funny. You can’t go around doing this.”
    “Helping people? I would have thought you would approve. Aren’t you the one who told me it would be easier to actually be nice than to hire you and pretend?”
    “What?” She dropped her arm to her side. “Duncan, why did you do this?”
    “Because I could. Are you the only one who gets to be nice?”
    “Don’t be reasonable.” She was tired from lack of sleep and felt the beginnings of a headache. “It makes me uncomfortable.”
    His smile faded. “That’s not what I wanted. It’s just a check, Annie. Don’t make it into anything else.”
    “A big check. Two big checks.” She glanced around to make sure they were alone, then lowered her voice. “We had sex. You can’t buy me stuff.”
    The humor returned. “Most women would tell you the opposite. That after sex is when the buying begins.”
    “Maybe. If we were dating. But we’re not. We have an