The Hostage Bride Read Online Free Page A

released it. Somehow he knew her skin would be just as smooth beneath those clothes.
    “Thank you,” she murmured.
    He liked her voice—a low, silken sound. Bick knew he was staring, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He inclined his head in brief acknowledgment of her words, but she was already turning to open the door. He was too late to open it for her, and followed her through before it closed.
    “Excuse me, miss.” She stopped when hespoke and turned hesitantly to face him. Out of the corner of his eyes, Bick saw the glass-walled partition and the assortment of office machines beyond it, but he deliberately ignored it. “Which way is the sales department?”
    “Right through that door.” She pointed to the glassed area, a set of keys jingling in her hand when she did.
    His gaze ran admiringly over her, noting the thrusting firmness of her breasts and the nipped-in slimness of her waist. “What is your name?” When his gaze returned to her face, it encountered an impenetrable wall of reserve. Her studied indifference immediately intrigued him even more.
    “I’m sure you’ll find someone to help you if you step through those doors.” She coolly ignored his question and pivoted on a slim heel to walk away.
    Adam exhaled a long breath beside him. “I never thought I’d live to see the day you would get the brush-off, Bick,” he murmured, then added to himself, “I wonder if I should tell Peggy that I finally met her.”
    “Met who?” Bick dragged his gaze away from the retreating figure to let it narrow on the head of his accounting staff.
    “Oh … uh.” Adam faltered as he realized he’d spoken aloud. “Peggy made me take a quiz that was in this magazine,” he explained, referring to his wife. “One of the questions asked if I had ever been unfaithful. I assured her that I hadn’t, because I’d never met a woman who had ever tempted me. But that one”—he glanceddown the hallway where the blond had disappeared—“could lead me astray.”
    “Forget it,” Bick stated.
    “Why?” Adam smiled at him curiously.
    “Because if she goes out with anybody, it’s going to be me.” But as he said the half-joking sentence, Bick knew that he meant it.
    “I thought you … uh … made it a rule never to—”
    “You just saw the exception,” Bick interrupted, his voice smooth and calmly determined.
    Adam stared at him, then shook his head in a vaguely incredulous fashion. “You aren’t joking.”
    “I rarely joke about something I want.” A lazy, crooked smile slanted his mouth.
    “And you always get what you want, don’t you?” Adam seemed to marvel at the realization.
    “My grandfather gave me a piece of advice a long time ago. He said, ‘If you want to cross the street, cross it. If someone stands in your way, walk around them. If you can’t walk around them and you can’t persuade them to move out of your way, walk over them. But if you’ve made up your mind to cross the street, don’t let anyone stop you.’ In practice, it isn’t as ruthless as it sounds,” Bick concluded in a wry tone because of Adam’s apprehensive expression. “Come on.” He walked to the glass sales door. “Let’s get all these business formalities over with.”
    He pushed aside the distraction of that blondvision dancing in his head. Business first, then pleasure. Bick couldn’t think of a better reward to be waiting at the end of a day.
    In her office Tamara discovered she was clutching the silk folds of the multicolored shawl. She smoothed out the creases in the delicate fabric caused by her tight grip and draped it around her shoulders. This time she tied the ends in a double knot so it wouldn’t slip free again. A spicy musk fragrance of a man’s cologne had left its scent on the shawl, a provocative stimulant to nerves still tingling from the encounter.
    Closing her eyes, Tamara shook her head to clear it of the frankness that had been in the male gaze of those green eyes. It didn’t do