She wouldn’t feel guilty because she’d promised herself she’d find the evidence and truth. It was obvious to her that in spite of his outward appearance and manners, Trent Farrington was a ruthless man with no morals. He deserved to be punished and stopped before others were hurt. Straightening her shoulders, she flipped on the lights. Her gaze swept over Trent’s office, even larger than hers––one fitting a man who was second in command.
One table held various completed models of the company’s projects over the years. On another table was a large model of the works in progress.
The office had a seating area. Above the credenza, behind his desk, an arrangement of frames graced the wall. She drew closer. Both from Princeton University, one diploma was an engineering diploma, the other an architecture degree.
The next was an award given on the behalf of the City of Fort Lauderdale, for outstanding community service. That had to be a lie.
Beneath was another award for his work, along with a picture of him smiling, this time surrounded by a group of underprivileged children—not the bevy of beauties she’d seen around him in the magazine. Quickly scanning the walls, she surveyed the numerous awards he’d received. Apparently, he was actively involved in the community.
“No!” She shuffled back a step. “Can’t be? He’s a cheat.” How could he receive so much praise? How could Mrs. Nash say he was a fine man?
Stunned, she moved to his desk and dropped into his black leather chair. After turning on the lamp, she took Mrs. Nash’s keys, unlocked the center drawer and rapidly scanned the contents. Everything was arranged in an orderly fashion. This was not the desk of a negligent person who did sloppy work. If he did something wrong, he knew exactly what he’d done.
She picked up a small book and read the spine to find it was a book of poetry. Was Trent, with his apparently analytical mind, a romantic, too?
The thought twisted her gut. Could she have been all wrong about him? Had Darcy’s instincts been right? Was someone else in the company skimming from the supplies?
Kate gritted her teeth. Not likely. No one else had the power Trent had. And if he wasn’t a part of it, then he was in a position to know who was. She couldn’t soften on him until she had evidence otherwise. His good deeds may have been done to cover up his criminal activity. And perhaps one of his many girlfriends left the poetry book.
Scowling, Kate could imagine Cecilia reading poetry to him as she sat seductively on the top of his desk. “Oh, Trent, let me count the ways I love you?” Kate mimicked.
And he had lied to Kate, too. At lunch, she’d overheard them making a date, which proved he liked Cecilia.
Kate slid open a side drawer. From the back, she pulled out an assortment of small foil packages. What’s this? She read the label and dropped the packages, her cheeks growing warm.
The rumors Darcy heard must be true. He probably did it right here in his office, at this desk, or on the comfortable couch.
“Now, that is more like the irresponsible, immoral man I know he is,” Kate muttered. Poor Trent Farrington. Doesn’t want to marry any of the women his grandfather hires, but he just can’t keep his hands off them…can’t keep his sex life away from the business.
An unwanted image of her sitting on his desk and him standing between her thighs flooded her mind, sending a surge of heat through her.
Enough of that. She snapped the drawer shut. She had to get out of here.
Next, she opened the large side drawer and pulled out a file labeled the Karger Building. The completion date on the building was five months away. She quickly sifted through the papers. Taking a sheet of paper, she jotted down the names of construction suppliers. She would still have to get into Purchasing and find out what he had ordered, and if those products were up to code.
Next, she pulled out a file marked: Personal Correspondence. She skimmed what appeared to be a stack of letters of congratulations. She returned the files and closed the drawer.
Mystified, she blew out a deep breath and slumped in his chair. “Too many congratulations for work well done.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Aside from the condoms, was it possible she had been wrong about him? Matt had implied substandard supplies were being used… But could it be someone else in the company…another high-ranking employee ordering them to siphon off money? She’d have to make a list of potential suspects if Trent didn’t pan out.
She didn’t have time to dwell on that now and didn’t want to analyze why hope sprang inside her that it wasn’t Trent. She really should get out of here.
The doorknob turned. A soft gasp escaped Kate’s lips. She jumped to her feet and grabbed a folder from the top of the desk.
A tall, older blond-haired woman, in a stylish blue suit, strode into the room.
Kate’s knees nearly buckled, but a wave of relief swept over her. It wasn’t Trent.
The woman put one hand on her hip. “Am I interrupting something?” she asked in a chilling, sarcastic voice.
A shiver ran up Kate’s spine. “W-who are you?”
The striking woman, probably in her late fifties, narrowed her pale blue eyes. “No. The question is who are you? And why are you here in this office?”
Kate swiped her sweaty palms on her skirt, wondering when the lady would call Security. “I’m Kate Meyers—”
“You’ll never have him,” she hissed. “I swear it.”
Kate stiffened. She’d been prepared for thievery or espionage as an accusation, but she hadn’t expected this. “What?” she asked, confused.
“I don’t care if his grandfather told you that you had a chance,” the woman snapped. “I’d never allow any of the bimbos he’s hired to marry Trent. So, if you’re here to screw him and think it will lead to more, you’re wasting your time.”
Calming her shattered nerves with a deep breath, Kate pulled herself together. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She held out her hand and forced a smile. “Please allow me to introduce myself. I’m Dr. Kate Meyers, the new Human Resources Manager here at Farrington Construction.”
Remembering her planned excuse, if caught, she pointed to the several files on Trent’s desk. “I’m looking for an employee file Mr. Farrington had the other day.”
The woman’s cheeks reddened. “Oh, I assumed…because you were in his office after hours… Never mind what I assumed.” She stepped closer. Her pale, blue eyes penetrated Kate. “Did you say, doctor?”
“Yes, I’m a psychologist. And you are?”
“Why, I’m Eden Grayson Farrington.”
Trent’s mother! Panic ripped through Kate. She didn’t think she could be faulted for not knowing because she didn’t see any resemblance. The woman was as fair as he was dark. He must have taken after his Farrington side.
His mother would surely tell him that Dr. Meyers had been in his office. At least she’d given a fairly good reason for being here, but she’d probably have to face him tomorrow about this.
The woman folded her arms over her chest. “Go ahead and look for the file. I’ll wait.”
Kate flipped through the stack of files on his credenza and picked out an employee file. “Here, I’ve got it.”
“Then shall we go?”
After they swept through the exit, Trent’s mother pushed the button on the lock, then closed the door behind them. “Dr. Meyers, my assistant will arrange for a private meeting with you so we can get to know each other better. As one of the executives, I like to thoroughly know all our upper staff. Also, I’m interested in everything Trent does.”
“Yes, I understand, ma’am. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go put this file in my office and lock up.”
“I’m sure we’ll meet again soon, Dr. Meyers.” She flicked her gaze over Kate, then stepped onto the elevator. The doors whooshed closed for the second time that night, leaving Kate alone in the hallway.
Kate’s breath caught in her throat. She had left the list of construction suppliers on Trent’s desk—and Mr
s. Farrington had locked the door. The keys. Had she left them on the desk, too?
Her heart was racing as she fumbled in her jacket pocket. When she touched the keys, she exhaled a deep breath. She hurried back to Trent’s office and thrust the list into Mrs. Nash’s pocket, still wondering how much time she’d have before Security arrived if his mother hadn’t believed her story. She locked his desk and took a moment to straighten the files.
When the lock clicked and the door opened, her head jerked up. Was Mrs. Farrington back? What excuse could she use now? Her heart pounded.
Kate’s gaze flew to Trent. Tall, dark, and handsome, he filled the doorway. “Mr. Farrington!” she gasped.
His looks were not what hit her today, but his expression. His face looked shocked as he propped a shoulder against the doorframe.
She thought she’d have more time before his mother alerted him or Security. She must have called him the instant she was on the elevator, and he had to have been in the building.
His dark gaze glinted like black granite, but with surprise more than anger in his eyes. “Why are you here?” he asked in a puzzled voice.
Feeling faint, Kate licked her dry lips as she struggled to compose her thoughts.
In a few strides, he reached her. “Not going to answer me?”
His nearness overpowered her and she stepped back from the desk. “I thought you might have an employee file,” she said in a rush. “And your door was unlocked—I didn’t think there would be a problem if I checked for it.”
His expression held disbelief. “I see,” he ground out. “And that’s why you’re here in my office after hours?”
“Yes.” She nodded emphatically. “That is correct.”
He tugged on the center drawer of his desk. Relief spread through every cell in her body that she had locked his desk.
Trent threw her a cautious glance, but seemed satisfied. However, at his concern, she wondered, if she’d overlooked something?
He stepped closer to her, his height and nearness forcing her to take a step backward. “I’ll speak to Mrs. Nash about why my door wasn’t locked.”
“Oh, please, don’t blame Mrs. Nash,” Kate said, not wanting to get the kind secretary into trouble. “Her husband wasn’t feeling well. She had to leave quickly to take him to the doctor.”
He frowned. “Norm? Is he all right?”
Kate winced, sorry to have worried him. Based on his expression, he cared for the Nashes, but she needed to use the excuse. “He’s okay, but she wasn’t taking any chances and wanted the doctor to look at him.”
“All right.” He seemed visibly relieved by the news that Mr. Nash was not in serious danger, but then he crossed his arms over his chest. “But what is it about you, Dr. Meyers? Here it is late into the evening, and you’re creeping around my office. I thought you might be out on a date…or off making plans with Greg for the game on Sunday.”
She should ask him the same thing, why wasn’t he out with Cecilia. “I didn’t have plans for tonight.”
“If you’re not in on any scheme with my grandfather, what is it you want from me? You obviously don’t like me, but I have this feeling you want something from me. I just don’t know what it is yet.”
“I do want something from you,” she said sweetly, raising her face to his.
He raised an eyebrow. “Care to enlighten me?”
“This.” She lifted the file in her hand. “I assumed since the door wasn’t locked, you wouldn’t mind if I retrieved a file.” She gave him a piercing glance. “You don’t have anything to hide, do you?”
He glared. “Of course, I don’t. But I do need to lock my door or anyone could come in here.”
“Mr. Farrington, I’m only trying to do the job your grandfather hired me for. Being new, it might take me a little longer to accomplish certain duties, so I was working late.”
He snorted at her statement and stepped forward, so close she couldn’t help but breathe in the scent of him.
“I admire your dedication, but I do believe he hired you to do a different job. And you don’t even know what it is yourself.” The silkiness of his voice made her insides warm and liquefy. She stepped back from him, but found herself backed against the credenza.
Holding his gaze, she groped for something to say. “I hope you’re only referring to your grandfather’s suggestions that I speak to you as a psychologist—and nothing more?”
Though there was a gleam in his eyes, he didn’t answer and moved toward her. “That’s not what I’m thinking at all.”
She moistened her lips. “I know what you’re getting at, but—”
“You do? Because I’m not sure.” Frowning, he traced his finger down her face in a caress. Then he ran his thumb across her cheek. “Something is going on here.”
Her thighs pressed more tightly against the credenza. She breathed in his essence, while his gaze fell to her lips. She felt the warmth of his hand on the nape of her neck as he pulled her to him. A wild heat swept through her. When he lowered his mouth, she raised her lips and closed her eyes. He was going to kiss her, and strangely, she wanted him to—which was total insanity.
“Kate,” he whispered. She flung her eyes open. He stared at her, his mouth only inches away from hers. Then he dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back. “Don’t look so hopeful.”
Heat flooded her cheeks. What had come over her? “Is that what you think?”
Trent had the bleakest look in his eyes. “A warning, doc. I’m not playing into my family’s scheme. I’m available for warming your bed if you want, but I don’t plan to marry anyone—especially someone my family has handpicked for me.”
Her knees were knocking together and she wanted to slap his face. Had he deliberately tried to humiliate her and to test her to see how she would respond? “Mr. Farrington, sleeping with you will never be a possibility. And I restate this for clarity: I’m not in on any marriage plot with your grandfather, so be careful you don’t step over the boundaries of polite business into harassing me.”
“Your point is taken.”
“I don’t know why you keep asking me my motives.”
“Hell, it’s the only reason he would have hired you. Do you have a construction background?”
She straightened her shoulders. “No. This is my first job of this nature.”
“So my grandfather hires an inexperienced HR Manager. Do you think I’m stupid?” he ground out. “His eyesight must be failing, because you don’t even look old enough to be the age on your resume—”
“I’ve taken good care of my skin, and he liked my credentials,” she pointed out.
He snorted. “Listen, Dr. Meyers, I have no illusions your interest would be in me––for me, personally––but you could be interested because of the company or my family’s money. So I’ll reiterate that I’m not after some gold-digging wife.”
Didn’t he think a woman would like him for himself?
Kate held a steady gaze. “Have I ever done anything or come onto you in any way? I can promise you that I would never, ever, be interested in you.”
After a moment, he gave her a curt nod. “All right, Dr. Meyers, whatever you say, but the next time you have a reason to be here, you’re to ask my permission—personally.”
“I will,” she said, grateful not to be fired on the spot.
He escorted her to the door, but blocked it, effectively letting her know he’d allow her to leave only when he was ready. “Security is being tightened. Anyone working after hours is to clear it through the guard at the front desk. Comprehend?”
“Why? Is there a problem at the company?”
“I have my reasons.” Apparently, he wasn’t going to divulge any information to her. “If you assure me you have no ulterior motive for being here, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt…this time.”
“I was here for the reason I said and was just leaving. Goodnight, Mr. Farrington.”
Their gazes locked until he must have assured hi
mself she told the truth.
“Goodnight, Dr. Meyers.” He stepped aside and allowed her to pass.
* * *
A few minutes later, her hands trembled on the wheel as Kate drove her car the short distance to her home in Victoria Park. After Trent had closed the door to his office, she had quickly dropped the keys into Mrs. Nash’s jacket.
However, now that she had time to think…she knew being caught in his office wasn’t the thing that bothered her the most. What really worried her was her response to him. She had stood there waiting and wanting him to kiss her, as if she’d lost her mind.
Thankfully, she’d recovered enough composure to tell him she’d never be interested in him. That should keep him away.
Kate pulled her car into her driveway and turned off the engine. She rested her forehead against the steering wheel. A few nice letters and awards didn’t mean Trent Farrington was in the clear, although now she felt she needed to widen her net for other possible suspects. Something shady was going on, yet she couldn’t deny she was drawn to the good things about him. When she had decided to do her own investigation, she hadn’t thought about how involved she would be with the people who worked at the company. Nothing was black or white.
She entered her little bungalow, her sanctuary, the house she had slowly and lovingly renovated to create the happy home environment she’d never had. A cold knot formed in her stomach and an unbidden thought from the past rushed to her mind. What would Bill Jackson have done to her if she’d been caught in one of his sleazy schemes—like the time she refused to take money out of someone’s desk for him? He’d backhanded her when she had refused… She’d hit her head against the wall so hard…
But she couldn’t think of him now; she had other concerns.
She flipped on the lights in her office and sat at her desk. She needed a reminder of who Trent Farrington was. From a file, she took out a magazine. “Bachelor of the Year” was printed and beneath a picture of Trent Farrington. He grinned and leaned against a black Porsche, surrounded by bathing beauties.
Disguised with the Millionaire (Dangerous Millionaires Series Book 2) Page 8