She was so lovely. Beautiful, really.
He hadn't realized it at first. But now the thought ran
through his head every time he looked at her. Some men
might not notice her. Some might even find her plain. But
some men didn't have his taste and experience when it came
to women.
She wasn't the flashy type. Not this one, Matt Harding
mused. Stephanie Rossi possessed a more subtle, richer
kind of beauty. Genuine and unadorned. One that worked on
a man. Got under his skin. Into his blood.
He ought to know. If half of what the gossip columnists in
this town reported was true, he was one of the city's
richest and most eligible bachelors, and changed beautiful
partners as easily as he changed his custom-made suits.
While the legend was exaggerated — as legends often are —
Matt knew the womanizer image was well earned.
Stephanie Rossi had worked with him nearly a month now. He
fully expected that, by now, he'd be accustomed to her
looks, and immune to her appeal. But in fact, as the days
passed, the affliction had only grown worse. Especially
when she flashed that brilliant, heart-stopping smile. A
smile that penetrated deep into his soul.
He hated when she was nice to him or seemed on the verge
of letting down her guard. That made it so much harder.
Sometimes he found himself purposely gruff to keep her at
arm's length. Or maybe growling was just a way of venting
pent-up frustrations.
Three weeks on the job and she must think I'm an ogre, a
horror. A total...jackass. No help for it. Let her think
what she will. He knew he had no choice but to play the
role of the tough, impossible-to-please boss.
Luckily, she didn't smile or relax around him all that
much. She certainly hadn't tried to take advantage of her
very advantageous opportunity, working side by side with
the hotel chain's owner. He knew some women would try to
exploit the opportunity. Offering more than their
professional talents. But not Stephanie Rossi. He'd wager
that she didn't have a conniving bone in her body. The
very shapely, tempting body that it was.
She was all business. Professional and impersonal — or at
least, trying to make that impression.
Efficient and sharp, but also graced with rare skills for
soothing a disgruntled employee or a dissatisfied guest.
An invaluable talent in any business setting, but
especially a hotel.
When her name was first put forward as the temporary
replacement for his personal assistant, Matt had balked.
It was sexist of him, but he preferred a male assistant,
one he could bellow at when the mood struck without having
to manage a tearful outburst, or some other variety of
female hysteria. Besides, he knew Stephanie Rossi had only
been in her job at the Harding Plaza as an assistant
manager in the operations department for barely a month.
Even if she was the Wonder Girl her boss claimed, Matt
didn't see how she could come to the executive suite after
such a short time. But finally — very doubtful it would
work out — he'd agreed to try her for a week.
From day one, she'd been cool and competent — and for a
girl born and bred in Brooklyn — a class act all the way.
He tested her, even unfairly. But she'd handled the
challenges admirably. She was certainly not the
chattering, flailing female he'd expected. Far from it.
She was so quiet, sometimes he hardly knew she was there.
Well, he was always subtly aware of her presence — like a
low-frequency vibration — even when she was off in her own
office, a thick wall between them.
He'd been thinking about promoting her permanently to the
head office. With her brains and management skills, she'd
be a great asset to him. He had no doubt.
Just as often he had the impulse to send her packing, back
to her regular job in operations. He knew by now that his
attraction to her wasn't wearing off as he'd expected.
Quite the opposite. It was growing by the hour, building
up speed and momentum. Like a boulder bouncing down a
mountainside. Threatening to start an avalanche any minute
now.
His regular assistant, Jerry Fields, was out on a medical
leave and might not return to work for at least three
months. Matt didn't think he could last, working side by
side with Stephanie all that time. After only a week, he
was about to blow some crucial male fuse. Every time she
gave him that small, inscrutable Mona Lisa smile, he had
half a mind to jump her bones.
Impossible, of course. For one thing, he had an ironclad
rule about romancing employees. He simply didn't do it.
Stephanie Rossi was not the first to challenge his vow.
Though no woman so far had ever tested his will-power as
intensely. And she wasn't even trying. But Matt was
determined. He wouldn't break down and give in. Not even
for this girl, this very rare find. This dark-haired jewel.
Still, he couldn't help watching her while she sat nearby,
completely focused on her work, unaware of his secret
scrutiny. Seated in an armchair across from his desk, her
lovely features set in an expression of deep
concentration, she reviewed a weekly summary of the
hotel's activity. He had a copy of the same report and
should have been studying it, too. But his thoughts kept
straying, his gaze kept wandering, feasting on the mere
sight of her, though he could never get his fill.
He loved the color of her hair. In the late afternoon
light that streamed through the large windows behind his
desk, her smooth, dark mane was a rich shade of coffee,
shimmering with red lights. So far, he'd only seen her
wear it in this simple, conservative style, pulled back
from her face and twisted in a loose knot just above her
nape. A prim, professional look that suited her manner.
He imagined how it would look undone, falling down her
back and across her shoulders in a silky cascade. How far
would it reach? It looked quite long, rolled up in that
complicated twist. It would certainly fall below her
shoulders. Her bare shoulders, Matt decided. Her skin was
flawless, smooth and fair, and the small pearl earrings
she wore perfectly matched the radiant quality of her
complexion.
His gaze slowly followed her profile, her high cheekbones,
long, straight nose and wide, sensual mouth. Her thick
lashes now shadowed her large dark eyes. Eyes that
reflected warmth, intelligence and a touching innocence
that Matt thought amazing to find in this city. A quality
that unraveled him at times.
If it was true that eyes were the windows of the soul,
then Stephanie Rossi possessed a beautiful spirit. Not
that she was without a sense of humor. At times, she'd
surprised him with her witty comebacks, sharp one-liners
that effectively put him in line. Normally, he didn't take
any back talk from subordinates. But he did from her, her
comments turning his moods into something
more...reasonable.
She suddenly looked up at him, curiosity reflected in her
shimmering gaze. A faint blush rose in her cheeks. She'd
caught him looking at her and she felt self-conscious. He
felt self-conscious, too. An unfamiliar reaction. He
forced himself to maintain a blank expression.
"Looks like there's been a small downturn in occupancy
this week," she said.
"Yes, I noticed." He flipped a page on the report, not
really aware of what he was reading.
She glanced at some notes she'd made in the margin of the
page. "Gross receipts in room revenue and food service
will be off about eight percent this week. But we should
make up the difference quickly. There are two weddings
booked for the weekend, big society affairs. We'll have
some overflow guests, I'm sure. And the International
Association of Journalists is winding up their convention
tonight with a banquet in the main ballroom. We've already
scheduled extra staff at the front desk to get the
conference attendees checked out quickly tomorrow."
Matt nodded, his expression revealing neither approval nor
disapproval. Secretly, he marveled at her ability to
evaluate this thick package in moments. She also had a
fantastic memory for detail. She knew what was happening
on-site at any given moment and could anticipate the most
improbable glitch. He already trusted her to watch over
the daily events, freeing him to attend to larger issues.
Once again, Stephanie had it covered. Their meeting should
be over. Yet, he couldn't quite manage to excuse her. Once
he did, she'd be gone. Out of his sight for two entire
days. How would he distract himself for the entire
weekend, waiting to see her again?
Oh, yes, he had a date. Scheduled to start later this
evening, it would probably melt over into Saturday night
as well, moving from the city to his house in East
Hampton. Matt felt a muscle in his jaw tighten as he
pretended to review the report once more. He tried to
picture the woman he was presently dating — a stunning
entertainment reporter, Jenna Malone. But he couldn't
quite keep the sexy blonde's face in his mind's eye....
He noticed Stephanie discreetly check her watch. It was
almost six. Late to be kept working on a Friday night.
Maybe she had a date, too? The thought of her rushing off
to meet some boyfriend — some undeserving, immature punk,
he was sure — irritated him. Though he knew he had no
right whatsoever.
"Who'll be on-site tonight for the conference banquet? Tom
Daley?" he asked brusquely, naming the head of the banquet
department.
"No, I don't think Tom's around tonight. His younger boy,
Scott, is in a school play."
Leave it to Stephanie to learn such a small, personal
detail. He'd known Daley for five years and could hardly
recall that the man had children. She not only knew the
kid's name, but probably knew the name of play and Scott's
role in it.
Matt ran his hand carelessly through his thick, dark hair.
He rose abruptly from his chair and walked around to the
front of his desk, where Stephanie sat. He sensed her
watching him, waiting to see what he would do next. He
sensed her tension. Yet she sat totally composed. She
wasn't afraid of him, he realized. She already knew his
bark was worse than his bite. Especially where she was
concerned.
"Well, someone ought to hang around tonight. Reporters are
notorious gossips. We don't want them bad-mouthing Harding
Hotels from here to Timbuktu."
"Good point. I'll find someone from Food and Beverage to
stand by." She glanced at her watch again.
"It's late. I'd better get to work on that. Anything
else?"
She suddenly rose from her seat and looked up at him. She
was standing quite close. Too close for comfort.
He felt an almost overwhelming urge to reach up and touch
her cheek, to pull her into his arms. He breathed in the
scent she wore, light but spicy and intriguing, an essence
that drew him even closer. She stared directly at him; her
warm dark gaze made him forget what he was about to say.
He quickly moved away and rubbed the back of his neck with
his hand.
"You should have thought of this banquet issue before,
Stephanie. Now you face the problem of finding someone to
cover at the last minute."
She stood in the center of the room, standing very
straight with her chin raised at an elegant, courageous
tilt. She could take the heat; he'd grant her that. It
wasn't really her fault. It was Tom Daley's. But of
course, Stephanie didn't shift the blame. She wasn't the
type.
"No problem. If I can't find anyone from the banquet
department, I'll do it myself," she said simply.
He pursed his lips. That wasn't what he'd wanted at all,
having her work late on a Friday night, cramping her
social life...or was it? God, this woman was driving him
crazy. And unlike so many others, she wasn't even trying.
"It's Friday night. I'm sure you have plans."
He hadn't meant to turn the conversation in a personal
direction. The question had just slipped out. Her eyes
widened in surprise.
"Yes, I do have plans," she admitted, slowly, "but I
suppose I can...rearrange them in order to stay a bit
longer."
Meet her boyfriend later, she meant. That image was even
more vexing. He moved behind his desk and sat down hard in
his chair. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."