that Preston had traced her to Houston. If her car or identification had been found, Preston's trackers would have been poking around by now.
Yes, she was safe from her stepbrother for the time being, but Spider was another story. Though overtly he had been the soul of propriety, she could feel the sexual attraction between them smoldering only a millimeter beneath the surface. She knew that if she pushed the tiniest bit, he would have her between his red satin sheets in a blink. The trouble was, she was having a hard time not dragging him there. Every day, she found Spider's heady sensuality harder to resist. Every night, her dreams were blatantly erotic and filled with images of a black-haired rogue whispering in her ear and doing incredible things to her body. Red satin sheets would be her downfall. She was obsessed with them.
Glancing over to the drier, she watched the red culprits tumble round and round in the drum. The sheets and her emotions had a great deal in common.
The day seemed to drag by. Spider was working with his accountant, and the shop was busy. As she walked through the displays checking for hidden treasures, she noticed the little gray-haired lady in the mink cape.
"Hello," Anne said to her. "Mrs. Bremmer, isn't it?"
The woman smiled. "Yes, and you're Anne."
"May I help you find something?"
"Oh, no, dear, I'm just browsing. Don't mind me." The grandmotherly woman smiled sweetly, and Anne returned her smile.
Since there was so much activity in the Pawn Parlor, Anne decided to poke around the warehouse attached to the back of the shop. Something caught her eye as she wandered through the stacks and shelves of merchandise. She laid down her clipboard and dragged a step stool to a corner shelf. Standing on tiptoe, she pushed aside a radio and reached for the porcelain clock that had been half-hidden.
"What are you doing?" Spider shouted.
Startled, she teetered, but big hands clamped around her waist and held her steady. "You almost scared me to death. I wanted to look at that piece up there." She pointed to the ornate clock and stand. "I think it may be a Meissen."
He lifted her down to the floor. "I ’ ll get the clock." He retrieved the dusty piece and set it on a crate. "Why didn't you call Boots or me? You shouldn't be climbing around this mess."
"Spider, I'm perfectly capable of lifting a clock. All week you ’v e been treating me as if I'm helpless and fragile. I'm not. I'm supposed to be working for you, but how am I going to earn my keep if you do everything for me?"
"Sugar, you've more than earned your keep this week. Why, your commission on the green candy dish alone will more than repay the money I loaned you.”
"It's not a green candy dish; it's an Oriental jade censer. And what commission?"
"Ten percent of the profit on anything out of hock that's sold."
Eyeing him suspiciously, she asked, "Is this a policy you invented for me, or does it apply to everyone?"
"Why, sugar, you can't honestly believe I'd invent something like that just for you."
He looked innocent. Too innocent. She wanted to say yes, she certainly did believe he would. Since she'd been here, he had become more and more solicitous of her. In fact, his behavior bordered on hovering. But she sighed and decided to ignore the issue for the moment.
"In any case, the jade isn't sold yet. The gallery's client is coming in Monday to see the censer and the rug."
"Oh, yeah, I forgot the rug. See, that's another commission. You can afford to take it easy. Why don't you go paint your nails or something."
"Spider, I've already polished my nails, and I'm not sure that it's a Chichi prayer rug that I found."
"Sure it is. It looks just like the picture in the book you got from the library. You're more than earning your keep, darlin'. I'd never thought of calling the galleries and offering them a commission on sales." He took her by the arm. "Why don't we go get an ice-cream cone? I ’ ll bet you like pistachio."
With the
Yes, she was safe from her stepbrother for the time being, but Spider was another story. Though overtly he had been the soul of propriety, she could feel the sexual attraction between them smoldering only a millimeter beneath the surface. She knew that if she pushed the tiniest bit, he would have her between his red satin sheets in a blink. The trouble was, she was having a hard time not dragging him there. Every day, she found Spider's heady sensuality harder to resist. Every night, her dreams were blatantly erotic and filled with images of a black-haired rogue whispering in her ear and doing incredible things to her body. Red satin sheets would be her downfall. She was obsessed with them.
Glancing over to the drier, she watched the red culprits tumble round and round in the drum. The sheets and her emotions had a great deal in common.
The day seemed to drag by. Spider was working with his accountant, and the shop was busy. As she walked through the displays checking for hidden treasures, she noticed the little gray-haired lady in the mink cape.
"Hello," Anne said to her. "Mrs. Bremmer, isn't it?"
The woman smiled. "Yes, and you're Anne."
"May I help you find something?"
"Oh, no, dear, I'm just browsing. Don't mind me." The grandmotherly woman smiled sweetly, and Anne returned her smile.
Since there was so much activity in the Pawn Parlor, Anne decided to poke around the warehouse attached to the back of the shop. Something caught her eye as she wandered through the stacks and shelves of merchandise. She laid down her clipboard and dragged a step stool to a corner shelf. Standing on tiptoe, she pushed aside a radio and reached for the porcelain clock that had been half-hidden.
"What are you doing?" Spider shouted.
Startled, she teetered, but big hands clamped around her waist and held her steady. "You almost scared me to death. I wanted to look at that piece up there." She pointed to the ornate clock and stand. "I think it may be a Meissen."
He lifted her down to the floor. "I ’ ll get the clock." He retrieved the dusty piece and set it on a crate. "Why didn't you call Boots or me? You shouldn't be climbing around this mess."
"Spider, I'm perfectly capable of lifting a clock. All week you ’v e been treating me as if I'm helpless and fragile. I'm not. I'm supposed to be working for you, but how am I going to earn my keep if you do everything for me?"
"Sugar, you've more than earned your keep this week. Why, your commission on the green candy dish alone will more than repay the money I loaned you.”
"It's not a green candy dish; it's an Oriental jade censer. And what commission?"
"Ten percent of the profit on anything out of hock that's sold."
Eyeing him suspiciously, she asked, "Is this a policy you invented for me, or does it apply to everyone?"
"Why, sugar, you can't honestly believe I'd invent something like that just for you."
He looked innocent. Too innocent. She wanted to say yes, she certainly did believe he would. Since she'd been here, he had become more and more solicitous of her. In fact, his behavior bordered on hovering. But she sighed and decided to ignore the issue for the moment.
"In any case, the jade isn't sold yet. The gallery's client is coming in Monday to see the censer and the rug."
"Oh, yeah, I forgot the rug. See, that's another commission. You can afford to take it easy. Why don't you go paint your nails or something."
"Spider, I've already polished my nails, and I'm not sure that it's a Chichi prayer rug that I found."
"Sure it is. It looks just like the picture in the book you got from the library. You're more than earning your keep, darlin'. I'd never thought of calling the galleries and offering them a commission on sales." He took her by the arm. "Why don't we go get an ice-cream cone? I ’ ll bet you like pistachio."
With the
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