The Mommy Makeover. Bonnie Winn K.. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Bonnie Winn K.
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Современные любовные романы
Год издания: 0
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make any exceptions. Too many passengers wouldn’t ride in a car that even faintly smelled of cigarette smoke. But she didn’t complain. He guessed she knew the tide had turned against smokers—especially since it was becoming more and more difficult to find places to smoke.

      Glancing again in the rearview mirror he saw that she had donned a pair of seriously dark-rimmed glasses and was absorbed in a deep stack of papers. Apparently, she was up to her neck in work. Hell, he could cut her some slack. She probably hadn’t enjoyed being in a meeting that ran over by two hours any more than he’d enjoyed waiting for her. “So, you the one who got stuck doing homework?”

      “Hmm?” she responded after a moment without looking at him, her head still bent downward.

      “The papers. Are you the only one who had to stay after school?”

      She finally glanced up, annoyance clouding her features. “School? You must be confused. I work for Ellington Advertising. I would have thought you’d know that from your dispatcher.”

      “Right.” He’d have to remember that if he ever hired a dispatcher. Apparently, her job description didn’t include having a sense of humor.

      He let the silence build in the car for a few minutes, but he wasn’t the sort of person who was comfortable with silence for long. “So, you got a big night planned at the country club?”

      “Um,” she replied, once again not bothering to lift her head.

      She was a real live one, he thought with disgust. She might look like a million bucks, but her conversation wasn’t worth two cents. Still, he persevered. “Gotta go home and change first, huh?”

      “Ummm.”

      At this rate he could talk himself to death.

      “Guess you want to knock ’em dead.”

      At this she did glance up. He met her frosty eyes in the rearview mirror. “I assure you it is not my intention to ‘knock ’em dead,’ nor is what I wear any of your concern.”

      Frosty? Make that Antarctica frigid. He was surprised that ice hadn’t formed on the windows, despite the exterior heat. “No, ma’am.”

      Her eyes narrowed suspiciously before she returned them to her work.

      Finn reached over to fiddle with the radio knobs, considering choosing a hard-rock station he knew would blast her prim little behind right off the seat. Instead he inserted a richly melodic Rachmaninoff tape that seemed to suit anyone he’d ever driven. He preferred it to the icy silence.

      He rapped his fingers against the wheel in time to the music as he navigated through the growing traffic. Choosing to forego the freeway, knowing it would be snarled during commuting hours, he swung off onto a little-known alternate route. Of course, the ice princess lived in the trendy Galleria area. He could have guessed that without the information provided by her assistant.

      Accustomed to her rigid silence, he nearly jumped when she spoke. “Where are we?”

      “Headed to your condo.”

      “Via Guatemala?” she questioned, staring out at the unfamiliar neighborhood.

      He laughed, even though he doubted she meant to be funny. “Not quite. This way we’ll miss most of the traffic. Don’t worry. I know this city better than most people know their lovers.”

      There was a momentary silence and he guessed she wasn’t comfortable with his point of reference.

      “Be that as it may, Mr….”

      “Malloy,” he supplied. “Finn.”

      “Mr. Malloy,” she continued, ignoring his first name. “I prefer to not be driven through hell’s half acre. Safety is just as important a consideration as traffic.”

      “You said you have to be at the country club in an hour. If I took the freeway, we wouldn’t even be at your condo in an hour.”

      “Mr. Malloy, are you deliberately trying to be difficult?”

      He grinned into the mirror, meeting her eyes, which now looked to be a cloudy gray. “No, but I’ve been told it’s one of my natural talents.”

      “I doubt I’d term that a talent.”

      “There are enough yes-men in the world. Don’t you get a charge out of something different?”

      “I don’t get a charge out of risking my life to travel home.”

      “You’re not in any danger. Besides, I can protect you if we run into trouble.”

      “I’m not impressed with muscles, Mr….”

      “Malloy,” he supplied again. “Finn.”

      And again she ignored his first name. “…Malloy. I’m impressed with efficiency.”

      “And you don’t think a person can have both?”

      “It hasn’t been my experience. Now, Mr. Malloy, I have work to do.”

      “Hey, sorry lady.”

      Meeting her gaze in the rearview mirror, he had the impression she was silently counting to ten. “My name is Ms. Amhurst. I trust you can remember that.”

      “Probably every bit as well as you can remember mine,” he replied pleasantly, his grin taking the sting out of his well-placed barb.

      She harrumphed in reply and turned her attention back to her work. And despite a few more tries at conversation on his part, she didn’t respond. It was as though she’d set her hearing to the off position. When he pulled up in front of her condo a short time later, she didn’t comment on the remarkably quick time he’d made, nor anything else for that matter. Instead, she moved those delicious-looking legs of hers inside at warp speed.

      “Yes, ma’am, I’ll be fine outside in the heat. No, I don’t need anything cold to drink—even if I have been waiting hours for you, without so much as a sip of water. Don’t give it another thought.” His words rang in the empty parking lot and he glanced upward at the windows he guessed were hers. Firmly drawn blinds covered the glass—no surprise there. He hadn’t met such an uptight woman in…He doubted he’d ever met such an uptight woman.

      Finn was tempted to step back into the car to turn on the air-conditioning but he had a hefty gasoline bill to keep an eye on. He figured she’d be quite a while, even though she said she needed to be at the country club soon. He just hoped she didn’t intend to set another lateness record.

      Having parked in the shade, Finn opted for pulling his cap over his eyes as he leaned against the limo’s immaculate fender. Settled in for a lengthy wait, he was startled when he heard the tapping of high heels only fifteen minutes later, followed by her voice, already barking orders.

      “Let’s get moving, Malloy,” she ordered, grinding out a cigarette beneath one shoe.

      Apparently if she dropped the “Mister” she could remember his name, he thought wryly. “Yes, ma’am.”

      He offered a mock salute, before turning to open the rear door. But then he took a look at her—a really good look. She’d swept all of that marvelous hair up, revealing a long, shapely neck. A diamond necklace winked from between ample cleavage and a thigh-high slit in her long form-hugging gown flashed those incredible legs. He guessed she dressed to impress and intimidate. Nose in the air or not, she was one hot package.

      Until he looked into her eyes. No longer seeming to be gray, they were the same rich blue as her gown—and as frosty as the rest of her glacial expression.

      Finn stared at her curiously. “Do you have on different colored contacts?”

      She glared at him. “I don’t wear contacts.”

      “Then your eyes really do change color?”

      “Yes. Not that it’s any of your concern. You’re