Why had she switched to her middle name, Isabelle? Nearly everything about her had changed, with the exception of her gorgeous looks, her captivating blue eyes, silky blond hair and that blazing attraction. Tony recalled her in his arms that night, warm, naked, eager. She had been all the things then that she had not been when he encountered her Tuesday night—the night they had met, there had never been a barrier around her.
She must have remembered him from the start. Was she angry he hadn’t pursued her after that night of passion?
Barely aware of his surroundings or the looming task, Tony’s attention kept returning to her while he attempted to chat politely with Seymour.
Finally, one of Seymour’s vice presidents quieted the room, introduced Seymour Morris and turned the microphone over to him.
Smiling his way through the opening, Tony heard none of it. His gaze kept resting on Isabelle, who was now facing the speaker, keeping her gaze firmly on the vice president or on Seymour. During the time Tony had watched her, not once had she looked at him.
He heard Seymour announce his name, introducing him as the new CEO and head of Ryder Enterprises, and he smiled during the applause. As he stepped to the microphone, shook Seymour’s hand and looked around the audience, his gaze rested on Isabelle. This time he made eye contact.
The instant they looked into each other’s eyes, the air electrified. Erotic images from the past taunted him as he pulled his attention back to the moment.
“I want to thank all of you for the warm welcome I’ve received. Seymour Morris and the Morris family have built a premier company with the help of outstanding employees. This is a blue-ribbon company with a blue-ribbon record.” He waited a few seconds while there was polite applause.
“In the coming weeks I’ll be talking to each of you more in depth. I think I already have appointments with most of you. If you need to see me sooner than your appointment, just let my secretary know. I’m looking forward to a banner year for Morris. I’ll turn this over to my executive president, Jason Hoyt, who has a few words to say and some introductions.”
He stepped aside and once again barely heard introductions until they went back to the Morris people and one by one, the vice presidents and then the directors were introduced.
They were scattered throughout the room and each person waved while they received brief applause. As each name was called, he looked carefully at the person, recalling the information he had received regarding them. Finally, he heard, “Isabelle Smith, director of the graphic arts department.”
Smiling, she stepped forward to wave, her gaze never meeting his. It didn’t matter. His heart jumped while he studied her intently again, remembering Jessie, comparing, feeling faint doubts that were fading each time he looked at her. Off and on he had thought about her, wondering where she was and what she was doing. At the time he had been working almost every waking minute and he hadn’t wanted to get involved with a woman because business would have suffered. She was back in his life. Now he could better understand her anger over his not contacting her after their night of partying and making love. Also, he could get through that barrier she had thrown up. As they made the next announcement, she glanced at him.
Certain she was Jessie Smith, he was jubilant.
The minute they finished the introductions and speeches, Tony turned to Seymour to offer his hand. “Thank you, sir. I have high hopes for Morris.”
“I think you’ll do well. This has been a great company. I have to tell you, there are moments this retirement gets to me, but I have no Morris heirs to pass this on to, so this is the end of the line. Life is filled with changes. I hope you pass this company through as many generations of Ryders as we have had Morrises.”
“Thank you. You’ve built a great company and I’m looking forward to my involvement in it.”
Seymour grinned. “Your father wanted this company in the worst way. I’ve fought him off for years. Lucky for you that you happened along when I wanted to retire and it didn’t hurt that you had a better offer than your dad,” Seymour added, chuckling. “Even though he didn’t make the sale, I know he’s probably still celebrating since you have a family business the same as I do. He may be out of it, but it was his and it’s still Ryder.”
“That he is. Best wishes on your retirement,” Tony said, anxious to get through the formalities.
When he had the chance, he turned to look for Isabelle. Once again, he couldn’t spot her. While his pulse drummed, he began to move around the room and then he saw her near the door, talking to three people. With her coat in hand, he suspected that she had been on her way out when someone had stopped her.
He tried to avoid rushing, but he crossed the room, putting off conversations with people who approached him.
And then she turned and walked out the door.
He lengthened his stride to catch up with her in the hall. “Jessie,” he said.
Isabelle stopped, her heart lurching. He remembers was the first thought that went through her mind. Her palms became damp as she turned to watch him approach. Looking like an ad for expensive men’s clothing in his charcoal suit, Tony had a commanding presence that was different from the party guy she had met in college. The thick mat of unruly curls were the only hint of a less serious side to him, something beyond the driven, ambitious mogul whose entire focus seemed to be on acquiring an even larger fortune.
As he halted only inches in front of her, there was a warmth in his gaze that hadn’t been present on Tuesday night. He gripped her arm lightly, his fingers barely holding her, yet it was a heated touch. “Let’s go where we can talk and not be interrupted.”
“I’m not sure we need to talk,” she said. “You’re my new employer. I’ll see you sometimes at the office,” she said, starting to put on her coat. He took it and held it out for her. As she slipped her arms into the sleeves, his hands brushed her shoulders. The faint touch should have been impersonal but was scalding.
“Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easily. Why didn’t you tell me?”
She looked up at him as he walked beside her. “I didn’t think you remembered,” she said, her pulse racing.
“I’ve never forgotten. Tuesday night, I thought about you—the Jessie Smith I knew, but dismissed the idea because of your name, Isabelle, your appearance, which is far different. And your whole manner.”
As they left the building, he held the door. “Let’s go have a drink somewhere and we can talk.”
She shook her head. “We’re not taking up where we left off. Different time, different world. You’re my new employer. End of discussion. I have other job offers, so soon I’ll be leaving Morris.”
“Don’t act in haste,” he said, his dark brown eyes unreadable. His handsome looks held her attention, more so now than when she was younger.
“I won’t do anything rash. I’ve been interviewing, studying my options.”
“Perhaps, but you haven’t heard what we’ll offer,” he said.
“Frankly, I doubt it will top the offers I’ve received. And you’ll have no difficulty replacing me, if you even want to with your ad department all in place. We both know that.”
“Why not hear what we’ll do? What do you have to lose?”
She smiled at him. “Nothing to lose. I’ll listen at the office. There’s no need for us to discuss work tonight.”
“How about dinner tomorrow night?” he asked, and her heartbeat skipped. Acceptance was on the tip of her tongue. But she had had one foolish night with him. She didn’t want another. Her aim was to meet someone with marriage potential—definitely not Tony Ryder’s MO, he was not the settling-down type. She wanted marriage and