“It’s a subliminal tape, not a brain transplant,” she replied, still not reaching for the cassette.
Daniel anticipated her next request and handed her the day planner, which had been buried beneath a foot-high stack of folders. “Or a personality transplant,” he muttered beneath his breath.
“What? Oh, thanks. I was looking for that.”
He sighed quietly. “I know.”
She flipped open to the mind-boggling schedule of meetings, appointments and other commitments. “I have the Franklin dinner tonight. Did you hire a new limo service?”
“Yesterday,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Now, are you going to let a pack of cigarettes control you, or do you want the tape?”
Katelyn frowned. She’d mapped out her life with the precision of a Rand McNally atlas. From her Ivy League education and brilliant advertising career to her equally well-thought-out decision to skip both marriage and children. Despite Daniel’s efforts to convince her otherwise, she knew that latter decision was wise. She had everything in her life under total control. Except the one habit she couldn’t quite kick—smoking. If Daniel’s tape might work…why not? Casually, she took the tape and tossed it on top of her desk.
Head bent, she missed the smirk on Daniel’s face. When she glanced up, she met guileless blue eyes. “You won’t regret this, Katelyn.” He slipped the tape into a Walkman. “Just be sure to listen to it.”
“I’m not in the habit of forgetting things,” she reminded him, putting the tape player in her purse. Her razor-sharp mind was legend—terrifying her underlings and impressing her superiors. But she and Daniel had worked together too long for him to be intimidated.
“No, but you are in the habit of resisting doing what you don’t want to do,” he retorted.
She squared her shoulders. “You make me sound like a willful child.”
“I’d rather think of you as an intelligent adult.”
“Ahem.” She studied his expression, searching for sarcasm. “Well, thanks. I think.”
“And, Katelyn?”
“Yes?”
“The tape only works if you really want it to.”
“I really, really want to quit smoking. Okay? Now, I’d better run. I’m meeting with Grayco in…” She glanced at her wristwatch and let out an uncharacteristic oath. “Fifteen minutes. I’ll take a cab, but tell the new driver to pick me up there after the meeting.”
“Your wish is my command,” Daniel replied as she gathered everything in an efficient flurry and headed to the door.
She glanced back. “I don’t know about that. Sometimes I’m not sure just who’s in charge.”
DANIEL MERELY smiled in reply, watching the whirlwind of contained energy she created as she issued orders, signed documents thrust at her and kept a constant path to the elevator.
His gaze focused on her purse, knowing it contained the tape. Not the one on smoking, as she supposed. No, the tape resting innocently in her purse was actually entitled, Embrace Your Femininity. Its subliminal message implanted suggestions designed to turn even the most ruthless barracuda into an old-fashioned, loving wife and mother. It also emphasized the rapidity of the biological countdown Katelyn claimed didn’t affect her. Everything about the tape was designed to push a woman straight into marriage and motherhood.
Something Daniel truly believed Katelyn needed.
She lived, breathed, and consumed her work.
Her work and nothing else.
Daniel knew that Katelyn limited her dating to only “safe” men—ones who were neither threatening nor potential mates. Katelyn had convinced herself she would be happy living alone. She reminded Daniel of his older sister, Cindy. She had believed a career would keep her warm at night as well. Now, Cindy was sad, bitter and inescapably alone.
Having come to regard Katelyn almost as a sister, Daniel didn’t want her to have the same fate.
Chapter One
Finn Malloy was hot. Figuratively and literally. Houston’s muggy heat was wilting his ever-so-proper chauffeur’s uniform and Katelyn Amhurst’s tardiness was doing the same to his normally even temperament.
The fact that she was a half hour late didn’t faze him—he knew executive meetings weren’t conducted by a stopwatch. Even an hour late didn’t bother him, but Katelyn had surpassed two hours and still wasn’t in sight. Finn wondered if she was even inside the damned building. Standing next to his car, he stared at the skyscraper and a mile-high wall of reflective glass stared back, giving no hint of who was inside.
Having not met the lady yet, Finn didn’t know if she was the type who habitually miscalculated the length of meetings, didn’t know how to manage time, or simply had no consideration for the poor slob of a driver waiting out in the heat.
He hoped she knew his clock started ticking when he pulled up in front of the building, not when she took a notion to step outside and into his limo. His operation might be a one-man show, but he maintained the same billing rates the big boys did.
Eventually he hoped to add at least one more car to his fleet. Fleet! Hah! Finn doubted anyone referred to a solitary limo as a fleet. But, every building started with a single piece of lumber or brick. And Malloy Enterprises was starting with this sole vehicle—one that the bank owned more of than he did, at the moment.
He glanced at his wristwatch and groaned. Two and a half hours. Maybe he should call her office and see if there’d been a change of plans. They had his cell-phone number, but maybe she was the type who suffered from the ten-broken-fingers syndrome, too.
Finn reached into his pocket for the phone, then paused. A woman was heading in his direction, but she couldn’t be the corporate crusher. No woman who moved like that could be a barracuda of the business world.
Her long hair, caught in a severe barrette, resembled a red flame in the sunshine, though he could see it was actually a combination of blond, gold, brown and red. High cheekbones competed with a sensual mouth for dominance in her arresting face. But his eyes really lingered on her lush figure, the long legs that stretched out endlessly, capped by ankle-breaking high heels.
No, it wasn’t in his stars to drive around a ripe morsel like that. With those long legs, she’d sashay right past his car…
“You, there. Look alive. I’m in a hurry.”
He stared blankly at her. Could it be?
Katelyn tapped her briefcase against the discreet limo logo on the car door. “You are the new driver, aren’t you?”
Finn straightened up, clearing his throat, hoping to clear the confusion as well. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Finn Malloy.”
Delicate brows arched upward as eyes of indeterminate color barely scanned him. She wore her indifference like the raw silk power suit that hugged her curves. “Fine. As I said, I’m in a hurry. I have to be at the River Oaks Country Club in less than an hour, but first we need to stop at my condo.”
She was in a hurry. That was rich. After he’d waited in the heat for more than two hours. “Guess your meeting ran overtime,” he commented, opening the door for her.
She grunted an unintelligible reply.
Seeing neither an explanation nor apology stirring, he closed her door and opened his own. He pulled away from the curb, the long car gliding effortlessly into the already crowded street.
Hearing a click, then smelling the distinctive aroma of a freshly lit cigarette,