don't have a driver's license or a social security card. Nobody's going to give you a job without identification or references."
No, she dare not give references. Reality settled on her shoulders like a hundred-pound weight, and she dropped her head back against the seat. She had reached the end of the road. She had exhausted her meager list of friends and acquaintances, and Preston had always been one step ahead of her in any case.
"Except me," Spider said.
"Pardon?"
"I ’ ll give you a job. Since Pinky's been gone, you can see what kind of mess things have gotten in, and you seem to know about the arty stuff. I need somebody to organize and appraise it, maybe help me sell off some of the pieces. Think you could handle the job?"
Anne brightened. "Certainly I could. Do I have the job?"
"You ’v e got it."
He squeezed her hand, and his gaze ranged over her face with a look that instinctively put her on guard. More than a friendly interest radiated from the blue depths of his eyes, and her heart reacted with an increased tempo. She was intensely aware of his rugged, masculine appeal. A pulsating aura of sensuality surrounded him, drifted over her, and insinuated itself i n the marrow of her bones.
It excited her.
Jolted by the realization, she forced herself to look away. She couldn't allow herself even to fantasize getting involved with someone like him. Such an idea was madness.
"Would you help me find a place to live until Vicki gets home?"
"You've got a place to live. With me."
"But I can't live with you."
"Why not?"
Visions of him stretched out beside her on red satin sheets stampeded through her mind. Horrified at the errant turn of her thoughts, she burst out, "Well . . . well, I just don't do that sort of thing."
One corner of his full mouth curved upward. "Sugar, I didn't mean you had to sleep in my bed. I don't mess with married women. You're safe with me."
"But I'm—" She clamped her mouth shut.
He gave her a knowing smile. "You're not really divorced, are you?"
She shook her head. Neither was she married, but perhaps it was wise to indulge in the pretense for the time being. She needed the shield. As long as he assumed she wasn't free, he would keep his distance. Spider didn't "mess" with married women as he so delicately put it
"Well clean out one of the storage rooms and make a place for you. It may not be a suite at the Royal Fox, but it's free."
At the mention of the Royal Fox Hotel, panic seized her. Did he suspect her connection with the elite chain? She searched his face for any sign of duplicity. His gaze was steady, his expression guileless. No, he couldn't know. Her family had always been low-key and had avoided publicity of any kind. The strange turn of events she'd experienced had made her suspicious of everyone.
"Thank you." She smiled.
"Don't mention it. Let's stop and buy you a nightgown. I have to be back to relieve Molly and Fred by six."
"Who are Molly and Fred?"
"You didn't meet them, did you? They work for me. Fred and another fellow named Boots work full-time and Molly comes in part-time. She's going to college. I ’ ll get Molly to take you shopping for some clothes Monday."
"I wouldn't want to impose."
"Impose?" He shot her an amused look. "Molly will get a kick out of it. She's majoring in fashion."
When they pulled into a vacant space near the entrance of a gigantic store and Anne saw the crowd of shoppers inside, tension beg a n to tighten her muscles. A man getting into a red car nosed against the truck stared at them for a long time, and her heart almost stopped. She averted her face, slunk down in the seat, and automatically grabbed for the handle of the briefcase sitting between her feet.
"Sugar, what's the matter? You're as white as a sheet."
"That man is staring at us."
"What man?"
"The man in the red car in front of us. What if he recognized me?"
Spider frowned. She was wound tighter than a three-dollar watch. Was Anne so scared that she was jumping
No, she dare not give references. Reality settled on her shoulders like a hundred-pound weight, and she dropped her head back against the seat. She had reached the end of the road. She had exhausted her meager list of friends and acquaintances, and Preston had always been one step ahead of her in any case.
"Except me," Spider said.
"Pardon?"
"I ’ ll give you a job. Since Pinky's been gone, you can see what kind of mess things have gotten in, and you seem to know about the arty stuff. I need somebody to organize and appraise it, maybe help me sell off some of the pieces. Think you could handle the job?"
Anne brightened. "Certainly I could. Do I have the job?"
"You ’v e got it."
He squeezed her hand, and his gaze ranged over her face with a look that instinctively put her on guard. More than a friendly interest radiated from the blue depths of his eyes, and her heart reacted with an increased tempo. She was intensely aware of his rugged, masculine appeal. A pulsating aura of sensuality surrounded him, drifted over her, and insinuated itself i n the marrow of her bones.
It excited her.
Jolted by the realization, she forced herself to look away. She couldn't allow herself even to fantasize getting involved with someone like him. Such an idea was madness.
"Would you help me find a place to live until Vicki gets home?"
"You've got a place to live. With me."
"But I can't live with you."
"Why not?"
Visions of him stretched out beside her on red satin sheets stampeded through her mind. Horrified at the errant turn of her thoughts, she burst out, "Well . . . well, I just don't do that sort of thing."
One corner of his full mouth curved upward. "Sugar, I didn't mean you had to sleep in my bed. I don't mess with married women. You're safe with me."
"But I'm—" She clamped her mouth shut.
He gave her a knowing smile. "You're not really divorced, are you?"
She shook her head. Neither was she married, but perhaps it was wise to indulge in the pretense for the time being. She needed the shield. As long as he assumed she wasn't free, he would keep his distance. Spider didn't "mess" with married women as he so delicately put it
"Well clean out one of the storage rooms and make a place for you. It may not be a suite at the Royal Fox, but it's free."
At the mention of the Royal Fox Hotel, panic seized her. Did he suspect her connection with the elite chain? She searched his face for any sign of duplicity. His gaze was steady, his expression guileless. No, he couldn't know. Her family had always been low-key and had avoided publicity of any kind. The strange turn of events she'd experienced had made her suspicious of everyone.
"Thank you." She smiled.
"Don't mention it. Let's stop and buy you a nightgown. I have to be back to relieve Molly and Fred by six."
"Who are Molly and Fred?"
"You didn't meet them, did you? They work for me. Fred and another fellow named Boots work full-time and Molly comes in part-time. She's going to college. I ’ ll get Molly to take you shopping for some clothes Monday."
"I wouldn't want to impose."
"Impose?" He shot her an amused look. "Molly will get a kick out of it. She's majoring in fashion."
When they pulled into a vacant space near the entrance of a gigantic store and Anne saw the crowd of shoppers inside, tension beg a n to tighten her muscles. A man getting into a red car nosed against the truck stared at them for a long time, and her heart almost stopped. She averted her face, slunk down in the seat, and automatically grabbed for the handle of the briefcase sitting between her feet.
"Sugar, what's the matter? You're as white as a sheet."
"That man is staring at us."
"What man?"
"The man in the red car in front of us. What if he recognized me?"
Spider frowned. She was wound tighter than a three-dollar watch. Was Anne so scared that she was jumping
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