Her Sexy Valentine Read online

  Carol pushed her tongue into her cheek. “He pulled something, all right. How do you know it was him?”

  “Everyone knows—it’s all over the building. And everyone’s excited about the party this afternoon. Apparently, that was his idea, too…along with the bonuses.” Her assistant gave her a wary look, then held up a sheet of paper. “I gave the memo another stab.”

  “Thank you,” Carol said, plucking it from her assistant’s hand.

  As she proceeded toward her office, Luke’s name was in the air. Employees parted in her wake, and their expressions of excitement over their new equipment changed to mild disdain when they looked her way. Their message was clear: Luke Chancellor will do things for us, but you won’t. If she tried to defend herself at this point, it would only look as if she was trying to take credit to save face.

  Luke’s words from the previous evening came back to her. Go home…I’ll take care of everything. In case someone questions what’s going on, I don’t want you to get in trouble.

  And to think she’d believed he was being protective.

  Heat infused her body as she set down her briefcase and hung up her coat. He’d made a fool out of her. Not only did everyone know that she was the lone holdout when it came to granting bonuses, but he’d managed to make it look as if he cared about her own department more than she did.

  Angry tears scalded her eyelids, but she fought mightily to keep them at bay. She didn’t want anyone at work to see her break down. She needed to escape for a few minutes to collect herself before the directors’ meeting. Carol considered fleeing to the ladies’ room, then remembered she needed to look for the missing earring that she’d most likely lost in the equipment room. She could be alone there.

  She backtracked to the elevator and did her best to ignore the accusatory glances from people she passed—apparently word had spread quickly. While she waited for a car to arrive, someone muttered “Ice Queen” under their breath disguised as a cough. A few people tittered. Carol’s face burned as she walked onto the elevator, but she managed to lift her chin and keep it together on the short ride to the basement.

  When the doors opened, she realized that preparations were already underway for the afternoon party. Red decorations of cupids and hearts abounded. Blowups of some of the company’s Valentine’s Day cards leaned against the wall, including the “take no prisoners” card she’d seen on her assistant’s desk. Cupid looked even more menacing at life-size.

  Thankfully, she didn’t see Luke among the volunteers…but the people who saw her threw her a look of distaste before turning back to their tasks. Stung, Carol hurried to the stockroom. There she punched in the code she’d seen Luke use and slipped inside.

  When the door closed behind her, she leaned against its cool surface for a few seconds, reveling in the quiet. It had been an unsettling week and she fervently wished she could hit the rewind button.

  Unfortunately, life didn’t come with a remote control.

  At length she felt for the light switch and illuminated the room. The shelves were much more bare than yesterday…the equipment scavenged for her department had made a big dent in the inventory. Carol released a pent-up breath and allowed herself the luxury of a few miserable tears.

  How had she gotten to this place in her life? She’d thought by now she’d be at the pinnacle of her career, married to a great guy and maybe starting a family. Instead, she felt as if she’d regressed to high school—no matter what she did, no one liked her.

  And she was alone. Completely, absolutely, utterly alone.

  With no answers at hand, she found a tissue and blew her nose, then began walking up and down the aisles, looking for her missing earring. The longer she walked, the more bitter frustration built up in her chest—frustration toward James, who had so callously toyed with her heart. And toward Luke, who had so easily usurped her authority and conned her with a few probing questions and a handful of compliments.

  From the floor, a glint of metal caught her eye. To her relief, it was her silver-and-emerald earring. She knelt to retrieve it from under a shelf, but lost her balance and bumped the shelving unit accidentally. Above her, she heard a scraping noise, and when she looked up, something large was bearing down on her.

  Carol didn’t have time to put up her hand. Pain exploded in her head, then everything went black.

  7

  Someone was shaking Carol by the shoulder.

  “Ms. Snow…Ms. Snow?”

  She opened her eyes to blink her assistant Tracy’s face into view, then winced at the pain that stabbed her temple.

  “Oh, thank God—she opened her eyes,” Tracy said. “Ms. Snow, are you okay?”

  Carol sat up and lifted her hand to her head, where a goose egg had formed. “I think so. I leaned over to pick up an earring I lost and something fell on my head.”

  “That monitor,” a young man said, pointing to a boxy computer screen sitting nearby on its end. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed.”

  Carol squinted. “Who are you?”

  “My boyfriend, Stan,” Tracy said. “He works here in the basement and was walking by when he heard a crash. He recognized you and called me. Should I call an ambulance?”

  “No,” Carol said, gingerly pushing to her feet. “It’s just a bump on the head. I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure,” Carol snapped. “I have a meeting to go to.”

  Tracy glanced at her watch. “Actually, the directors’ meeting has already started.”

  Carol brushed off her clothes and straightened her lapel. “Then I’d better be going.” She glanced at Tracy’s boyfriend. “Thank you for coming to my assistance.”

  Then she marched out, embarrassed to have been in such a compromising situation. She palpated the tender knot on her forehead. A low, throbbing headache had settled into her crown. The pain brought her near tears again, but she was more determined than ever to stand up to Luke Chancellor. After stopping by the ladies’ room to arrange her hair over the reddened bump, Carol proceeded to the room where the directors’ meeting was being held and pushed open the door.

  Her fellow directors looked up and she could tell not all of them were relieved to see her. Luke Chancellor sat at the head of the table. He smiled up at her. “We were just getting ready to send out a search party for you, Carol.”

  “I’ll bet you were,” she said sweetly, then settled into an empty chair. “Sorry I’m late.”

  “We heard a Good Samaritan delivered new computer equipment to your department this morning,” Janet, the art director, said with a smile.

  All gazes slid toward Luke. He held up his hands. “It was Carol’s idea—I just…facilitated.”

  She set her jaw—how did he do that? Manage to sound humble and still take credit?

  “Have you revisited the issue of bonuses?” Carol asked, pulling the conversation back to the matter at hand. She shot a look of contempt in Luke’s direction.

  He caught her gaze and confusion registered on his face…what an actor.

  “We were just about to,” Luke said, then cleared his voice. “I think it’s pretty clear that anyone dissenting is following your lead, Carol, so I guess we can cut to the chase by asking if you’ve changed your mind on the issue of paying out a one-time bonus?”

  The weight of a roomful of stares shifted to her. Luke looked hopeful, and Carol knew he was remembering her comment from the previous evening, that she might reconsider her position. But that was when she’d been under the spell he seemed to be able to cast so easily with a handsome face and a few flattering words. That was before he’d made her feel stupid for falling for his caring act, before he’d embarrassed her, turned all her employees against her. This might be her one and only chance to put Luke Chancellor in his place.

  “No, I haven’t changed my mind. Not about the bonuses, not about a lot of things,” she added pointedly.

  Disappointment colored Luke’s face. His mouth flattene
d, then he shrugged. “I guess that’s that.”

  “I guess so,” Carol chirped, then pushed up from her chair. “If that’s all, I really need to get back to work. This party means I have only four hours to get done what I’d normally do in eight.”

  Luke’s mouth tightened. “That’s all.”

  Carol gave him a triumphant look, then walked out. On the way back to her office, she massaged her temples, trying to alleviate the headache that had yet to ease. When she reached her department, she walked the gauntlet of angry stares and closed her office door. There she downed some aspirin and waited for the feeling of vindication to descend. She’d proved to Luke that her opinion still meant something around here…that there was at least one woman he couldn’t charm into submission.

  But sitting here in the wake of her power, the victory felt strangely hollow. She shook it off, reasoning that she could hardly feel good about anything while nursing a headache. She would savor the success later, in private.

  When she was alone. Completely, absolutely, utterly alone.

  She pushed away the troubling thought, announced to Tracy through the intercom that she wasn’t to be disturbed, then spent the morning plowing through a mountain of paperwork. At some point Carol decided she’d skip the Valentine’s Day party and just go home, maybe tuck in with a good book, something she could suggest as a selection for the Red Tote Book Club.

  While she was thinking about it, she pulled out her phone and sent a text message to Gabrielle.

  Change of plans…seduction OFF.

  A couple of minutes later, Gabrielle replied.

  Surrender to love, Carol.

  Carol frowned at the message. Love? Who said anything about love? And surrender? Never.

  A knock sounded at her door, then it creaked open.

  “Tracy, I asked not to be disturbed,” Carol said without looking up.

  “Don’t get mad at her,” Luke said.

  Carol lifted her head to see the man of the hour standing in her doorway. He gestured behind him. “Tracy said you didn’t want to be disturbed, but I told her I’d take full responsibility for defying your orders.”

  He looked handsome in brown slacks and pale blue dress shirt, minus a tie. Her pulse quickened, but she reminded herself that he wasn’t to be trusted.

  Men. Could. Not. Be. Trusted.

  “What do you want, Chancellor?”

  “I thought it would be nice if we walked into the party together, a show of solidarity.”

  She stood and began packing her briefcase. “I’m not going to the party.”

  He gave a little laugh. “Not going? Why not?”

  “Because I’d rather go home, that’s why.”

  “Go home to what?” he asked. “A book?”

  At his mocking tone, Carol bit down on the inside of her cheek. “What’s it to you?” She looked up and her anger surged to the surface. “I mean, really, Luke, as if you care.”

  He blinked and visibly pulled back. “That’s the thing—I do care…Although I’m starting to wonder why.”

  She rolled her eyes—it was a preposterous statement considering the fact that he’d compared her to an icicle that wouldn’t thaw. “Save it, Chancellor. Go.” She made a shooing motion. “Go be the life of the party, the company hero, the lady-killer.”

  She’d spoken with more venom than she’d intended, but once the words were out, she couldn’t take them back.

  Luke pursed his mouth, then nodded in acquiescence and turned toward the door. She looked back to her briefcase and slammed the lid shut. “Carol?”

  She looked up, surprised he was still standing there. “Yes?”

  “I hope you change your mind about the party.”

  She walked over to her coatrack and shrugged into her coat. “I won’t.”

  “Then maybe fate will intervene.” He grinned and strode out.

  Carol squinted, then shook her head. Luke could not accept the fact that he couldn’t charm her into doing what he wanted.

  When she walked out into the lobby area of her department, only Tracy was still there, sitting at her desk obediently, although she glanced longingly at the clock.

  “I’m leaving,” Carol announced.

  “You’re not staying for the party?” “No.”

  “Is it because your head is hurting?”

  At the compassionate tone in her assistant’s voice, Carol balked. “Uh…no. But thank you.” Then she handed Tracy the perennial memo, riddled with bright red circles. “Six mistakes on this version.”

  Tracy winced. “Really?”

  “Really.” Carol gave her a pointed look. “Try again, please.”

  Tracy bit her lip and nodded. “Be careful driving home. I hear a winter storm is blowing in.”

  Carol laughed. “I grew up in Atlanta, and none of those so-called ‘winter storms’ ever materialize. Enjoy the party.”

  She headed toward the elevator. The offices in every department were empty, with everyone already in the basement for the party. As she rode down to the lobby, Luke’s words came floating back to her.

  That’s the thing—I do care…

  Carol shook her head. The man was a master. She knew he was a player, yet she still almost believed him.

  The doors opened into the empty lobby. She walked out and headed toward the front entrance. A rumble overhead made her stop. She realized it was a fierce wind shaking the glass of the two-story entryway. The sky looked almost purple—the low-hanging red clouds were brimming with some type of serious precipitation. Rain? Hail? Neither.

  She watched in disbelief as enormous snowflakes exploded from the sky, only to be swept sideways in an almost tornadic wind. Within seconds, the outdoors was enveloped in a thick, impermeable blur of white.

  A blizzard in Atlanta…impossible.

  And suddenly more of Luke’s words came back to her, after she’d claimed she wouldn’t change her mind about attending the Valentine’s party.

  Maybe fate will intervene.

  8

  Carol stood mesmerized by the alien sight of snow falling in Atlanta until she realized that there would be no going home to snuggle up with a good, erotic book. She was stranded at the Mystic Touch office. And she had two choices: return to her office and massage more paperwork…or go to the Valentine’s Day company party.

  The low throbbing in her temples from the bump on the head she’d received this morning made the thought of scrutinizing spreadsheets unbearable.

  The party seemed to be the lesser of the two evils.

  So she trudged back to the elevator and rode down to the basement, unwinding her scarf from her neck. She could hear the noise of the party even before the elevator stopped. When the doors opened, the full force of music, laughter and voices blasted her. Her stomach churned—she didn’t want to be here, and she couldn’t think of a single person who wanted her here.

  She stepped off the elevator, feeling self-conscious in her winter coat, thinking she should’ve returned to her office and dropped her things there. Instead she stood there holding her briefcase awkwardly while everyone else held a glass of pink punch.

  A few heads turned in her direction, but after a quick downturn of their mouths, they turned away. The blatant snub sliced through her, but she kept scanning, looking for a friendly face.

  She landed on Luke. He caught sight of her and his expression turned from surprise to something else that accompanied a smile. He said something to the person he was talking to, then turned and walked in her direction.

  It seemed silly now that she’d dug in her heels about not attending the party. Heat rose in her cheeks as he stopped in front of her.

  “Snow,” he said with a grin. “What brings you back?”

  “Snow,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Huh?”

  “It’s snowing.” She pointed to the ceiling. Since the basement had no windows, everyone else was oblivious to the outside conditions. “A blizzard, actually.”

  “So you
’re stranded.” Then he made a rueful noise. “I’m sorry—you probably don’t feel like being here. Tracy told me about the bump on the head. You should’ve told me that’s why you didn’t want to come to the party. I would’ve left you alone.”

  His concern left her flustered and her tongue suddenly didn’t work.

  “Let me take your coat,” he offered, reaching to help her out of the heavy garment. “In fact, let’s put your coat and briefcase in the storage room.”

  She followed him slowly, wondering if people were watching them as they disappeared down the hallway. Sadly, though, everyone seemed keen on ignoring her. He unlocked the door of the storage room, then he grabbed her hand and pulled her inside, allowing the door to close behind them.

  Her pulse rocketed. “Luke, what are you doing?”

  He flipped on the lights, then smiled at her. “Sorry. Overkill, I know, just to give you a Valentine’s gift.” He hung her coat on a hook, then reached high on a shelf and removed a heart-shaped box of chocolates. When he turned back to her, he looked sheepish.

  “It’s silly, I guess. I saw this and it reminded me of you.”

  Carol felt flush with pleasure—until she looked at the box. A large snowflake adorned the top. That was her—cold as ice…like an icicle. The card he’d slipped in her tote bag taunted her. “Very funny,” she said, handing it back to him.

  His eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean?”

  Hurt barbed through her chest. “I get the whole frosty, cold-as-ice thing. I know what people say about me, that they call me Ice Princess.” She turned and reached for her coat. “This was a bad idea—I think I’ll wait out the storm in my office.”

  His fingers encircled her wrist. “Hey.”

  She turned back and looked up at him.

  “That’s not how I think of you,” he said, his brown eyes pensive. “I bought the candy because of the snowflake—get it…? Snow…flake?”

  Carol wet her lips. She wanted to believe him…but why would Luke Chancellor buy her candy?

  “Sorry if I overreacted,” she said. “I’m sure you bought candy for other coworkers.”