Chapter 7

At two o'clock the next afternoon, Phoebe went up to the eightieth floor and was informed by Curtis curtly, that Mr. Turner wanted to see her immediately. Fighting down her nervous tension, Phoebe smoothed her hair, which was held in a loose knot at her nape, and walked into his office. "You wanted to see me?," she said politely.

Cole tossed the documents he was reading down on his desk, leaned back in his chair and lazily surveyed her. "You always wear your hair up for me while we were still married," he said, his deep voice pitched seductively low. "I still like it."

"In that case," Phoebe said lightly, "I'll start wearing it down."

He grinned. "So that's the way we're going to play it, is it?"

"Play what?"

"This little game we started yesterday"

"I am not playing your game," she said with quiet firmness. "I do not want the prize." But she did. She wanted him forever, for herself. And she despised herself for the same stupid weakness. Yesterday, she notice a magazine in a magazine stand, with a full story on Cole about his work, lifestyle, and mostly about his love life.

"I've also had the dubious pleasure of reading through your file," Phoebe said. "Your public-relations file," she clarified, at his stunned look "Stories on your job, and how successful you are, but mostly, they're just crap on your sex life"

"And," he concluded evenly, "you were hurt."

"I was disgusted," Phoebe shot back, refusing to admit to any of the anguish she'd felt. She caught hold of her temper and said with a measure of her former calm. "Now, can we get please get down to work?"

A moment later, Cole was called into a meeting that lasted the rest of the afternoon, so Phoebe was left in peace.

***

At eleven o'clock the next morning, Keith looking harried, appeared at Phoebe's desk. "Cole just called. He wants you in the next building right now, and he's going to need you for the rest of the day." Sighing, he gestured toward the report she'd been preparing for him. "Go ahead. I'll finish that."

When Phoebe arrived, Cole was seated at his desk. his suit coat and tie removed, his dark head bent as he concentrated on the notes he was writing. His shirtsleeves were rolled up on his tanned forearms his collar was unbuttoned. Phoebe's gaze drifted to the tanned column of his throat. Not so long ago, she remembered, she had pressed her lips to the hollow there where his pulse beat...

She looked at his beautifully styled dark hair and the ruggedly chiseled angles of his jaw and cheek. He was the handsomest, most compelling man she had ever seen, she thought with a pang of longing. But when she spoke, her voice was calmly detached. "Keith said you needed me up here right away. What do you want me to do for you?"

Cole turned and looked at her, a smile sweeping across his features. "Now, there's a question," he teased.

She pointedly ignored his sexual innuendo. "I understand that you have an urgent task for me."

"I do"

"What is it?"

"I want you to go to the coffee shop and get me something to eat."

"That-," Phoebe choked, "That's your idea of urgent?"

"Very urgent," Cole replied imperturbably. " I happen to be starved."

Phoebe clenched her hands into fists. "To you I may merely be some frivolous, amusing sexual object, but downstairs I have an important job to do, and Keith needs me."

"I need you, honey. I've been here since-"

"Don't you dare call me honey," she bursts out, reeling with unwanted joy at the casual endearment.

"Why not?," he cajoled, a smile lighting his face. "You're sweet."

"You won't think so if you call me honey again," Phoebe promised.

His brow drew together at her tone, and Phoebe had to remind herself that he was still her boss. "Oh all right!," she capitulated ungraciously. "What do you eat for breakfast?"

"Irritating secretaries," he mocked.

Phoebe stalked back to her temporary office and saw Curtis lounging there with some of her colleagues whispering about something. Phoebe knew it must be her because every few minutes, they will turn around and stare at her as if she has grown wings.

As if to atone for sending her on such an unimportant errand, Cole tanked her for the sweet rolls she brought him and gallantly insisted on pouring her a cup of coffee.

"I'll fix it myself, but thank you anyway," Phoebe said firmly. To her sublime discomfort, Cole strolled over to the bar and casually leaned against it, watching her add cream and sugar.

When she reached out to pick her cup, he put his hand on her arm. "Phoebe," he said quietly," I'm so sorry if I hurt you. Believe me, I never intended to do that. And you haven't hear the part of my story yet"

"There's no need for you to keep apologizing," she replied, carefully pulling her arm away. "Let's just forget the whole thing happened." She picked up her cup and started toward her desk.

"Aren't you even curious to know my part-"

"I said, let's just forget the whole thing happened," she stated coldly.

"Fine. By the way," he said causally, "I'm leaving for Paris tonight. But beginning on Monday, I'll need you up here in the mornings too."

"For how long?," Phoebe asked appalled.

He grinned. "For as long as it takes me to win this game of ours."