Intimate Betrayal Read Online Free PDF Page B

usual lugubrious tone. “If anybody falls and gets hurt on a construction
     project, we’ll have OSHA breathing down our necks for the next decade.”
    When the tour was over and Annie emerged with her colleagues into the muddy lot where the construction trailers were parked,
     Jack Fletcher took her aside.
    “We’ve got a problem,” he said. “You saw what happened in there with Giuseppe and his nephew?”
    Annie nodded. “Just the end of it, actually.”
    “We’re going to have to let him go. For good this time.”
    “Ah, Jack, I know the boy is difficult, but I was hoping we could give him some leeway.”
    “Look, we’ve got no choice. The cops were here a little while ago with a warrant for Vico’s arrest. It seems our boy has been
     running a cocaine ring on the side for several months.”
    “Dammit!” Annie said. No wonder Giuseppe had been so angry. He’d been trying to straighten Vico out for months. The boy was
     talented, too. But he’d been running with a gang since the age of ten or eleven. “Poor Giuseppe. He’s such ahard worker and such a decent man. It must kill him to have such a reprobate nephew.”
    “Yeah, probably. But we got no choice now, Annie. We gotta fire the kid.”
    “You’re right,” she said slowly. “Okay, let’s do it.” This was one aspect of being project manager that she really hated.
     Fortunately there had been very few firings on this job, but she worried about the workers involved every time it happened.
    “It’s got to be done,” Fletcher said. “I’ll take care of the paperwork.”
    “We were right, I think, to give him a chance, but we certainly can’t employ fugitives from the law.”
    Fletcher’s expression changed. “No, ma’am, I reckon one criminal associated with this project is more than enough.”
    He was talking about Matthew Carlyle, she presumed, who was on trial for the murder of his wife. He was associated with this
     project since a significant portion of the building funds had been donated by him, via Francesca.
    “Mr. Carlyle isn’t technically a criminal,” she reminded Fletcher. “He hasn’t been convicted yet.”
    Fletcher blinked at her. “Matthew Carlyle? No, he hasn’t and he probably won’t be. But all that proves is that the rich are
     different.”
    Annie shrugged and excused herself. As she walked away, it struck her that there was something about Jack Fletcher that she
     didn’t like. Although he was always polite, she didn’t care for the way he deliberately tried to cut her out of the decision-making
     loop.
    She had confronted him about it—in what she’d hoped was a pleasant, nonthreatening manner—and things had improved somewhat.
     But where Fletcher was concerned she had learnedto ask a lot of questions and make sure she got complete answers.
    It wasn’t easy being a woman in a male-dominated and -controlled profession. But it
was
challenging.
    Fletcher watched her walk away from him, her long slender legs, the subtle curve of her ass under her skirt. Annie Jefferson
     always dressed in an elegant professional manner, usually wearing tailored suits that displayed her trim body to perfection
     without flaunting it. She had great legs. Her breasts—which he’d once caught a glimpse of through a sheer blouse on a hot
     day—were to die for. And her face was lovely. Clear blue eyes, looking surprisingly innocent for a woman who had been married
     for several years. Something sensual about the mouth. A straight nose with tiny nostrils that flared occasionally, when she
     was angry or upset about something, although she was too cool ever to let any negative emotions register for long on her face.
    Ever since he’d first met her, he’d wanted to fuck her Just that. He didn’t want a relationship with her. He didn’t
do
relationships. He fucked—and rarely the same woman twice. He didn’t need the hassle of a woman in his life, didn’t want the
     inevitable conflict, the jockeying for control, the