by Adrianne Lee
The tips of Mac’s ears warmed, but he didn’t know whether to be complimented or insulted. Nancy had never given him a second glance…until he looked like Grant. His gaze locked with Tia’s. He knew he shouldn’t stare, but for the life of him, he couldn’t look away. Something about her reached out to him, into him. A silent yearning that grabbed his soul, that spoke to a deep thirst he’d never been able to quench. Did she know that feeling, too? Was that why he wanted to pull her into his arms and never let go?
“I wish we could get the information from Grant’s computer now,” she said.
“Me, too. But since we can’t, why don’t we pay the electronics department a visit? See if Gwen Gallagher will make the liars number five?” “Whatever you say,” she teased. “You’re the boss.”
“Oh, wait.” He snapped his fingers. “I want to check on the blueprints while I’m thinking about them.”
He led her over to a door at the back of the room. It was a compact walk-in closet, full of office supplies. He knelt, moved a box of paper from a corner wall, then lifted a patch of rug that was attached to a thick slab of wood. Concealed in the floor was a small safe. Mac quickly did the combination. Tension banded his chest. He pulled the door toward him and peered into the dark well. “As far as I can tell, everything is as I left it a week ago.”
She dropped to her knees beside him, her alluring scent stealing into his nostrils, whetting his senses. Their shoulders bumped. Mac reached out to steady her. Her nose was inches from his, her mouth a whisper away. Her green eyes glistened, warm and welcoming, full of longing. Every other thought but Tia fled his mind.
As though it were the most natural thing in the world, he pulled her to him. He grazed her lips with his, hesitantly, a child tasting a first piece of candy, testing the sweetness, finding he quite liked it and committing himself for another, larger portion of the heady delicacy.
Totally mystifying him, Tia responded to his kiss like a woman surrendering to the man of her dreams. Her reaction fed his confidence, inflamed his affection. She welcomed his invasion of her mouth, lifted her hands to his face, to his hair, pressed her body to his. His blood burned hot through his veins, tightened in his groin with need so fierce it was honeyed agony.
A tiny voice in the back of his brain warned him to break away before he went too far, before he embarrassed them both. The hum of passion in his ears robbed him of his will, drowning out the tiny voice. He cupped her bottom in both hands, drawing her to his desire. She moaned his name softly against his lips.
“Guess my timing is a little off,” Nancy Rice said.
Mac and Tia jerked apart. Tia scooted to her feet, straightening her sweater, her face flushed pink. Mac couldn’t recover as quickly. He stayed on his knees and looked up at Nancy over his shoulder.
“You might try knocking next time.” His voice rasped with annoyance and unspent ardor. But he felt like a child caught opening presents before Christmas. “What do you want?”
Nancy fell silent. She was studying him, her clever mind racing so hard he could almost hear the cogs. Mac’s heart plunged like a plane running on empty. Had he somehow given himself away? Had she heard Tia call him by name?
Nancy put her hand through her blond hair. “How did you know the combination to Mac’s safe?”
Mac swallowed hard. “He gave it to me when he had the thing installed. I took the chance he hadn’t changed—” Mac broke off. “Why am I explaining myself to you? I’m your boss.”
“Well, of course.” Nancy blushed, but she continued to study him for another beat or two—her Ms. Flirty side gone, the intelligent, suspicious Ms. Office Manager back in charge. “Is there something I can help you look for?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You have the combination to this safe?”
“Certainly. Mac gave it to me, too.”
The tips of his ears burned. He’d forgotten. He had given it to Nancy once when he’d been out of town and needed some information he’d locked in here. “Thank you, but I can find what I’m after on my own What did you want, Ms. Rice?”
“Oh.” She smoothed her hands over her shapely body as if ironing out her composure. He braced for the certain personality switch. She didn’t disappoint. She lifted her shoulder coquettishly. “I thought about who might have come in here while you and Ms. Larker were gone.”
“Larken,” Tia corrected.
“Yes, of course, dear.” Nancy gave her a sugary smile.
“And?” Mac prodded, his patience with Nancy’s game-playing stretched to the limit.
“And I think I saw Gwen heading this way around lunchtime.”
Gwen? The information sat him back on his haunches. Why would the head of electronics be sending him pieces of an inferior Holly Beary? For that matter, where would she have gotten her hands on them? He could think of only one way she could have done that. It saddened him. He and Gwen Gallagher had all but started Coy Toys together. Of all his employees, he trusted her the most.
On the other hand, if she was the traitor, why send him these Santa gifts at all? It made no sense. He dismissed Nancy with a curt thank-you.
She beamed at him, then brushed past Tia as though she were garbage to be ignored. Tia waited five seconds, then peered around the closet door. “It’s okay, Mac,” she said, her voice neutral, with none of the husky warmth of a moment ago. “She’s gone.”
So, Mac noted with utter disappointment, was the special closeness he and Tia had shared. She wouldn’t look him in the eye. Although she was inches from him, she seemed a thousand miles away. She’d placed an invisible wall around herself, shutting him out, denying the attraction and response he’d drawn from her. Frustration rose within him. He didn’t know much about male-female relationships. He was a great friend. Not a great lover.
How did he handle this? What did he say? That he was sorry he’d kissed her? Wanted her? No. Then he’d be a liar, too. For as guilty as he felt about betraying Grant, he couldn’t dispute his longing for Tia. He might not know much about women, but he knew instinctively she’d be embarrassed if he mentioned their kiss. And he refused to cause her such distress.
“She gave me a scare for a second there.” Tia pushed her hair behind her ear and tilted her head again. Her lips looked swollen and bruised. Thoroughly kissed. Needing more kisses. His desire simmered anew. He tamped it down.
Her lovely eyes narrowed. “Do you think she suspects anything?”
He guessed she was asking if Nancy had heard her cry out his name. He had no answer. Just a sinking suspicion. But he would spare Tia that concern. “Let’s not drive ourselves crazy worrying about Nancy.”
“Okay.” She looked unconvinced.
He reached into the safe and extracted a bound set of papers. The blueprints to Holly Beary. He stuffed them into his jacket pocket, relocked the safe, replaced the floor covering and stood. She was too close to him again. He ached to pull her back into his arms. Instead, he patted his chest where he’d placed the papers and felt his rapidly beating heart through the thick sheaf. “I’m going to put these in Grant’s safe tonight. They’ll be more secure there.”
“Good plan.” Her breath grazed his mouth.
Longing swept him. He needed out of these close quarters. “Let’s go see what Gwen was doing here earlier.”
“If she’ll tell us the truth.”
He laughed without mirth. “If she lies, then I guess I’ve got a full house.”
THE ELECTRONICS LAB was on the second floor. Gwen Gallagher, Mac’s company vice president, also served as head of this department. The entrance opened into an oblong office, with a laboratory against the back wall. The buzz of equipment flowed through the office like a radio tuned to Christmas carols: soft and apropos, but not distracting.
Gwen was seated at her desk before a computer, monitoring the crew working in the lab. She looked up as they came in and shut the door.
Gwen had the kind of beauty that wasn’t discovered at first glance. Her features were classic, ev
en unremarkable. But her skin was the creamy color of a Christmas moon, smooth and pale. She wore her shiny caramel brown, waist-length hair tied back with a leather thong. Keen blue eyes, the warm azure of a tropical sea, peered from beneath simple wire-rimmed glasses.
As that gaze landed on him, Mac had the sense that Gwen had been expecting him. She seemed to be offering him a silent welcome, as well as sympathy for their mutual loss of “Mac.” It riveted Mac. Caught him off guard. But could he trust that her grief was genuine? Last week he would have believed it. But since hearing Grant’s message to Tia, he felt like a fool for having taken these people at their word, for having trusted his instincts about them.
Gwen wiped a tear from her eye. “I’m sorry. I’m coping as best I can…Funny how little things can throw you off. I was just thinking about the first chip we produced for Holly Beary. We knew instinctively that we were close to getting what we wanted. So we pulled an all-night marathon. Around 2:00 a.m. we were so tired we started laughing about some silly thing and couldn’t quit.”
Mac remembered that late night, and his throat tightened at this hideous, necessary charade. If Gwen was innocent of this mess, she’d be humiliated when she found out he’d duped her.
“I wanted to see where Holly’s heart was made.” Tia stepped toward Gwen.
Gwen tore her gaze from Mac and eyed Tia coolly. She seemed displeased. At her request? Or at Tia herself? Mac frowned. Why would either upset Gwen?
She stood, removed her glasses and tucked them into the pocket of the lab coat she wore over precisely pressed forest green slacks. She pointed toward the back wall. “The actual chip is put together in the lab.”
“Can we go in?” Tia asked.
“No.” Gwen moved as if to block the entrance. “It’s a sterile environment—like a medical lab, no dust or other contaminants. Only specified personnel are allowed in there.”
“Such as the boss?” Mac appreciated her safety concerns. At least one of his employees seemed security conscious. But surely Gwen understood the new owners of Coy Toys would want to see their prize asset.
She gazed at him pointedly. “You haven’t shown any interest before now.”
This set Mac back on his heels. When had Grant last visited the lab? Had Gwen been here then? For the life of him, he couldn’t recall. All he could think to say was, “I didn’t own the company then.”
Gwen blinked at him, looking as if he’d just crossed the boundaries of propriety. Twin dots colored her cheeks. “If you insist. You’ll have to wear these sterile suits, caps, masks and surgical gloves. We can’t have fibers or skin cells or hair or anything polluting the lab environment.”
In his battle of wills with Gwen, Mac had forgotten the protective gear necessary to keep the lab sterile. There was no real reason for Tia and him to go into the lab. No reason to distract the crew. “You know, I think this could wait until next week—when things aren’t so hectic.”
The bright dots left Gwen’s cheeks and her defensiveness slackened. She gave Mac a warm smile that sent a chill right to his toes. What the hell was he missing? Had this trusted assistant sold him out? Sold the very chip they’d worked to develop together? Hadn’t she known she’d share in whatever profits the chip produced? Didn’t that matter? “Nancy Rice said you’d stopped by my office around lunchtime. Was there something you wanted?”
She looked uncomfortable. “Well, yes. I’d like to speak to you alone, if Ms. Larken wouldn’t mind.”
Tia shrugged. “Of course not. I’ll wait in the hall for you, Grant.”
The moment the door closed behind Tia, Gwen launched herself at Mac, her arms snaked his waist, and her head pressed against his chest. “Oh, Grant. I’m so sorry about Mac. You must be devastated. I tried phoning you all last night, but there was no answer.”
“I had the phone unplugged,” he said dully, placing his arms around her from reflex. Patting her back in hopes of consoling her and getting her to regain her composure. He’d known this woman six years. She’d never shown a speck of emotion about anything that he could recall.
She lifted her head and Mac gazed down at her. “Why is Ms. Skycap here with you? You promised you’d tell her about us and get rid of her. I’m warning you, if you don’t I will.”
Mac gaped at Gwen. What the hell was she saying? She and Grant? When? How? Good God! Mac peeled her off him, holding her at arm’s length by both upper arms. What was he supposed to do now? His mind raced like a pinwheel. She thought he was Grant. He had to act like Grant. But how was that? “I didn’t see Tia until last night. She’s been out of the country. I couldn’t very well break up with her at the moment she came to console me about losing my brother.”
“Why not?”
“Because I couldn’t think about anything else but Mac.”
She sighed and nodded. Understanding sympathy filled her eyes. “But you will do it soon? I’m tired of sneaking around. I want the world to know about us. And about the microchip I developed for Holly Beary. Right now I feel like I’m living one big lie.”
“Lies,” Mac murmured. “Yes, life does seem like that, doesn’t it?”
“What?”
He shook himself. “Nothing.”
“Promise me you’ll tell that woman and soon. Because if you don’t, Grant, I’ll do it for you. I understood your not wanting Mac to know.” She crossed her arms over her chest and seemed to lose her train of thought. “Though I think he was suspicious last week. He was acting really oddly toward me.”
“How was that?”
“I couldn’t put my finger on it quite.” She scratched her head, thinking. “Did you notice the change in him?”
How did she know Grant and he had seen each other? “Ah, you mean that he’d shaved and cut his hair?”
“Well, yeah, that.”
“He told me he did it in case people wanted to interview him after the toy was launched.”
“That’s what I mean. Does that even sound like Mac?”
Mac blanched. “I guess it was odd.”
“Damn straight.” She rocked her head from side to side. “I wrote it off at the time, figured it was my guilty conscience dogging me, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder.”
Mac didn’t like the new ninety-degree change this conversation was taking any better than the last one. “I can’t keep Tia standing in the hall all afternoon. We’ll talk later.”
“It’s not our talk you need to worry about, but your talk with her.”
Mac nodded and stumbled out into the hall. He stood there like a man in a fog. Brain-rattled. What was Grant into? Why would he cheat on Tia with Gwen? And what was he going to do about Gwen’s ultimatum?
Chapter Eight
Rain pounded the top of the Porsche as Mac drove through early-evening traffic. The fierce meter matched the beat of the pain thrumming in his temples. His body ached with fatigue. Between the sleepless night, the ceaseless grief, the relentless guilt and the countless secrets, his head felt as though a herd of reindeer had stampeded across it.
Beside him Tia sat lost in her own thoughts. He supposed she was as exhausted as he, also dreading the long evening ahead. Even the prospect of finding some answers about his employees filled him with little enthusiasm after his visit to the lab.
His heart felt as heavy as the weather. How was he going to tell Tia about Grant and Gwen? He’d left the lab in a state of shock, brushing off her questions about why Gwen wanted to talk to him alone with a white lie. He feared she’d seen right through his tale. Had felt left out. Shut out. Better that, he figured, than his blurting what he’d just discovered. But he would have to tell her. And soon. Or Gwen would do it for him.
How would Tia react? How would she feel? He turned toward her, taking in her beloved profile. The notion of hurting her amplified his headache, added another stone to his heart. “Are you spending Christmas with your family?”
Tia’s silence filled the inside of the car as though it were an entity of its own, as t
hough he’d asked her a question as tough as the Daily Double on “Jeopardy.” She turned to face him. In the rain-filtered headlights from the thick traffic he saw her expression was strained. “Didn’t Grant tell you?”
Mac frowned, realizing Grant had shared little or nothing about Tia. He’d formed his own opinion of her by observation and conversation. He knew the kind of person she was, but nothing of her life or her family background. “Actually Grant and I didn’t talk much about—”
“I don’t have a family, Mac.”
Surprise sawed his heart, spilling compassion through his veins. “I…I didn’t know.”
“I was raised in a foster home.” Her voice sounded thick, faraway.
The noise of the heavy traffic faded in his desire to pull the car to the side of the road and gather her into his arms. He gripped the wheel more tightly and steered onto the freeway ramp. How had she ended up an orphan? He hesitated, then asked softly, “Did your parents die when you were young?”
Ten seconds passed before she said in a voice so tiny he strained to hear, “I was given up at birth for adoption.”
A corner of Mac’s heart seemed to tear off and lodge in his throat. He merged with the freeway traffic, accelerating to meet the higher speed. His heart raced like the powerful engine. Babies were a high commodity in the world of adoption. But she’d said she was raised in a foster home. That meant she hadn’t been adopted. Why not?
“How come…Why didn’t—” He broke off. He was overstepping his bounds. She had the right to tell him this if she wanted. But he had no right to pry.
“Why wasn’t I adopted?” The strength had returned to her voice…along with something bitter. “Apparently I was a sickly baby. No one longs for a baby with medical problems.”
He wanted to grasp her hand just as she’d clutched his in her apartment while they’d listened to Grant. Wanted to let her know he was there for her, as she’d been there for him. He lifted his hand from the gearshift, but Tia’s hands were locked around her middle. His ears warming, he grasped the gearshift again. “So, you ended up in a foster home?”