Книга Rules of Engagement - читать онлайн бесплатно, автор Carla Cassidy. Cтраница 3
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Rules of Engagement
Rules of Engagement
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Rules of Engagement

“That’s fine. I was hoping to stop by earlier and introduce myself to her, but I’ve been in meetings until now.” She leaned against the door frame. “Now that you’ve met her, I’m hoping you two will work together well.”

“Actually, I knew Kathryn already.”

Emily raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You did?”

“We went to tech school together five years ago in California.”

“Really?” Her blue eyes held his intently and he wondered if she could see in his eyes that he knew Kat well…very well.

He knew that she gave the best back rubs in the world, remembered the soft gasps she emitted when he caressed her inner thighs, knew that she could surf the ocean waves almost as efficiently as she could surf the Internet.

“She certainly has made a name for herself in the computer industry,” Emily continued. “There have been all sorts of articles about her in several magazines.”

“She doesn’t exactly shy away from publicity,” Nate said dryly.

“From what I’ve read, she usually works out of her California office. We were lucky we could talk her into coming out here. Hopefully, she’s just the person we need. All that’s important is that she help you get to the source of the problem,” Emily said. “Well, I’m getting out of here. If you’re driving home you’d better get started. I’ve heard the roads are pretty horrible.”

“Okay, thanks.” The moment she left his office he sank back into his chair. It was more than wounded pride that made him irritated that they’d brought her in.

It was the fact that he was supposed to be one of the best in the industry, that somehow he felt he wasn’t living up to his potential.

“A man is only as good as the work he does, the things he accomplishes.” How many times had Nate heard his mother and father say those very words? How good could he be if his company had to bring in outside help?

Thinking of his parents reminded him that he hadn’t spoken to them in almost a month. He made a mental note to call them in the next day or two. They rarely called him. They were busy people with busy lives.

What he needed to do at the moment was go back into his program and find the hacker, solve the problem and get Kathryn Sanderson forever out of his life.

She slept like a baby, but then she always did. It seemed no matter what turmoil took place in her daily life, it left her alone the moment she closed her eyes for sleep.

She knew she was lucky that way, but had long ago realized it was some sort of nice compensation for having to deal with her mother.

As she was growing up, God knows she had needed every ounce of energy to deal with the daily struggles of being her mother’s daughter, and so had gifted her with the capacity to sleep well each and every night and awaken well rested.

She tumbled out of the bed and rushed to the windows to pull open the curtains. She gasped at the sight that greeted her. Milk Street looked more like Frosty the Snowman land.

There appeared to be nearly a foot of snow on the ground and the sun peeking up over the horizon gave the entire landscape a candy-cane-pink kind of glow. She admired the beauty of the scene for a moment then turned away from the window.

The challenges that lay ahead energized her, both the work involved and Nate Leeman himself.

She felt strong this morning, more than capable of taking whatever acrimony he decided to dish out. She knew he could be impossibly closed off from others, as emotional as a rock and downright surly when he wanted to be, but she refused to let him get under her skin.

By seven she’d eaten a Danish and drunk two cups of coffee, showered and dressed and decided that spending another minute in the hotel room was impossible.

She grabbed her coat and left. There was nothing to say she couldn’t get to work early. Nate had said nine, but if she knew him he’d be in early as well.

As she trudged through the snow the two blocks to the office building, she thought about the fact that he hadn’t married. The fact that he was still single certainly didn’t surprise her. It would take a very patient, Milquetoast kind of woman to fit into the ideal he had for his wife.

Five years ago she’d had neither the patience nor the fortitude to become the woman he wanted. Nothing had changed, not that he was asking.

She was greeted by the security guard, who had her sign in, then she stepped into the elevator that would whisk her up to the floor that held Nate’s office.

The hallway held the hush of early morning. No phones rang, no scurrying footsteps abounded, just the stillness of a building holding its breath in anticipation of the day’s beginning.

She was unsurprised to find Nate’s office door unlocked. She eased it open, stepped inside, then went completely still.

Nate was there at his desk. It was apparent from the clothes he wore that he’d been there all night. It was also obvious that he was sound asleep slumped over the keyboard, his face turned in her direction.

At some point or another over the course of the night, he’d taken off his suit jacket. His white shirt stretched across the width of his shoulders.

She knew she should awaken him immediately, but she didn’t. Instead she studied him in his unguarded, unconscious state.

He was still one of the most handsome men she’d ever known. His features were sharply defined, sculpted by an artist’s hands…aristocratic yet utterly masculine.

His dark eyelashes were sinfully long and shadowed the skin just beneath his eyes. His jaw was darkened slightly with the faint growth of a five-o’clock shadow.

His mouth was slightly agape, although no hint of a snore emitted from him. She remembered that mouth on hers, hot and demanding. He may have been unemotional in most aspects of his life, but when it came to his work and lovemaking, he’d been quite passionate.

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