Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You (v1.2) Read Online Free

still lived in Chicago , while his parents had now retired to Arizona . They all called each other weekly, visited on holidays, stuff like that, but for the most part Quinn considered himself to be pretty much on his own. At thirty-two, that suited him just fine.
    He’d allowed himself the privilege of arriving late at the offices the morning after the Taite assignment, figuring he’d earned a few hours of combat pay for having put up with the Rich and Repulsive. Not that it had been all that bad. Somerton and his little wifey had behaved themselves quite well, and Uncle Alfred had gotten himself quietly tanked and spent most of the evening propping up a pillar in the ballroom, leering down the necklines of all the passing ladies.
    Only Shelby Taite had bothered him, and Quinn was still smarting at her deliberate refusal to acknowledge him, to, for crying out loud, at least take the trouble to look at him, remember his name.
    And then there was that arrogant, brain-dead jerk she was engaged to marry. Quinn tried to imagine the two of them in bed together.
    Talk about your sterile procedures.
    Although Shelby Taite seemed to have some hint of fire behind all that ice. She’d pretty much thrown herself at old Parker, trying to get a rise out of him, pressing that long, sinfully lush body against him, asking him if he ever felt he’d die if he couldn’t be kissing her.
    She’d probably have had more luck if she’d whispered stock quotes into the jerk’s ear.
    Quinn really, really disliked the rich, Grady being one of the few exceptions. They had everything dumped right into their laps, and none of them seemed all that damn happy about it. Most of them had shrinks on retainer, divorced with the change of seasons, and spent their time saying they were helping the economy by buying three-million-dollar yachts because that kept the laborers in the shipyard employed. Scary. That was what the rich were.
    What the rich needed was a good kick in the ass. What Shelby Taite needed, in the crudeness of an expression from Quinn’s misspent youth, was to have her clock cleaned. She needed some hot, sweaty, steaming sex. Someone to rip dthe pins out of her too-perfect hair, strip her of her designer virgin robes, and make mad, passionate love to her until those damned dead eyes rolled back in her head.
    Not that Quinn was volunteering for the job.
    He rocked on his heels as the elevator climbed to the sixteenth floor, then stepped out onto the black and white marble floor Grady had called a necessary expense, as first impressions can be made only once.
    Maisie sat at her large, semicircular desk in the reception area, the white marble wall behind her displaying the words D & S Securities, Inc. in large brass letters. Very impressive, for diose who felt the need to be impressed. Many of their clients did.
    Maisie had a portable telephone headset clamped over her riot of artificially red, artificially curled hair. The receptionist was short, a bit pudgy, and with a round, round face that might have been drawn by Charles Schulz. She was murmuring, “Uh-huh. Uh-huh,” into the mouthpiece as she filed her French-manicured nails.
    When she saw Quinn she smiled at him, pointed to the headset, then pulled a face that made her look like a cherub with dyspepsia. She leaned forward, hit the mute button, and said, “Morning, honey. You’re late, but the crazies were all up bright and early this morning. A question for you. Does D and S want to ride shotgun on a couple dozen elephants while the circus is in town? Nah, didn’t think so. I’ll get rid of this bozo. Bozo—get it? Oh, and wait until you see Grady!”
    Quinn waited for her to explain, but she grimaced suddenly and hit the mute button once more, reopening the line. “No, honey, free peanuts won’t make us reconsider. Uh-huh, yeah, I can assure you that D and S are animal lovers from way back. But that’s just the point, honey— they want to be way back from them. But thank