Back in the Bedroom Read online

  “Want her with the usual prerequisites? Old and grumpy?”

  “Funny.”

  “Oh, come on, admit it,” Eddie said. “You like old and grumpy.”

  “I like experienced.”

  “Well, so do I, son. So do I. I’ll see you.” He started to walk away. “Oh, and live a little today, why don’t you. Just for fun.”

  When Eddie drove off, Reilly locked his front door and headed down his steps. He’d like to say he forgot all about his father and the women in the BMW, specifically the one woman in the front seat. After all, he was good about forgetting things that got to him.

  And there was no doubt, Tessa Delacantro had gotten to him.

  The last time he’d let a woman do that, he’d ended up on the wrong side of a beating he’d like to forget, both physically and mentally.

  He sure was melancholy today. Flipping on his sunglasses, he slid behind the wheel of his car, cranked up the Metallica CD and drove.

  By the time he got to work, he felt better. The food had helped, so had Metallica. Nothing like heavy metal to clear one’s head. His building was in San Marino, a small, exclusive suburb of Los Angeles, where he took up the fifth floor of a small glass-and-brick building overlooking the San Gabriel Mountains to the north and the San Gabriel Valley to the south. To the west lay downtown Los Angeles and its famous skyline, highlighted nicely today by a ring of smog. He didn’t mind the smog because he loved it here. He loved the weather, which came in two choices: hot or hotter. He loved the back-off, laid-back, live-and-let-live attitude.

  After his long stint back east on assignments, including even longer stints across the world in uncomfortable time zones and climates, he thought he just might never leave Southern California again.

  He rode the elevator up, unlocked the double glass doors that led into his business and stepped inside to utter and complete quiet.

  His favorite state of being, utter and complete quiet. Given that it was ten minutes to eight, that left him ten precious minutes to enjoy the solitude before his office manager and temp showed up. He hoped the temp worker was Marge, his favorite of Eddie’s employees. She did her job without flapping her mouth, she was knowledgeable when it came to accounting, and because she was old enough to be his mother, he didn’t have to worry about Eddie’s motives for sending her. She had five kids and two grandchildren and never showed him her family pictures. He loved that about her, and he always asked for her. Eddie usually complied.

  Unless he was in a mood to prove to his son that he needed some excitement. Then he’d send a cute young blonde with far more physical assets than mental capabilities. Maybe even a redhead or a brunette, but Reilly always knew when Eddie was messing with him because the temp would bat her eyes and giggle a lot and not know the difference between a debit and a credit, much less what a general ledger was.

  If Eddie pulled that today, he’d just send her away. He was headed down the brick hallway toward his private office when the elevator doors dinged and opened.

  Expecting Marge, he turned, but the greeting died on his tongue when one Tessa Delacantro stepped through the double glass doors.

  7

  TESSA’S STOMACH LODGED firmly in her throat, she stepped into the office she’d been assigned to for the next four days. The place was quiet and understated, with wood and glass accents and gorgeous views of the San Gabriel Mountains through the north windows, but that wasn’t what made her freeze.

  It was the man standing there staring at her as if she were a ghost.

  It was the last person on earth she’d expected and the one most on her mind.

  Reilly Ledger, looking pretty much exactly as she remembered him—long, lean and attitude-ridden.

  He wasn’t half-naked today. He wore black trousers, a black, soft-looking shirt and, big surprise, black athletic shoes. Black from head to toe. His short midnight hair still stood straight up and his eyes still reminded her of glittering blue diamonds. Trouble personified. She had no idea why he was here at her job, but a little part of her sparked to life. Had he somehow come for her? “What are you doing here?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.” His voice was not necessarily soft or kind, but rough and serrated, and absolutely demanded an answer.

  He hadn’t come for her. Of course he hadn’t. Clearly, he’d hoped to never see her again.

  As for what she had hoped…she had no idea.

  Eddie had been surprised she’d wanted to work today, but she’d needed to. There was no reason to sit in her apartment and feel sorry for herself. Sure, she’d had a bit of a trauma, but she wasn’t a wilting flower. She could dive right back into her life.

  Needed to dive right back.

  Eddie had promised her in his gentle, warm, reassuring voice that this job would be good for her, it would be a challenge, yes, but the boss was someone special, who would take good care of her.

  She certainly didn’t need taking care of, but she could appreciate a soft-spoken boss, a kind soul, someone who’d just let her be and do what she did best—work with numbers. “I’m here to work,” she said.

  He stared at her bleakly. “You’re the temp.”

  “Yes. I’m supposed to be at an accounting business for the next four days—” Oh God. She looked into his taut, unhappy face. “Yours,” she whispered. “I’m supposed to temp…for you? I never imagined he’d—”

  “Neither did I.” He shook his head. “And I ate his gift of breakfast this morning. I should have known the no-good, meddling bastard was up to something when he brought me McDonald’s. He’s such a health nut. It was a damn bribe.”

  She didn’t have to wonder at his edgy, unpredictable mood. As a rule, she was open to herself and all experiences and to other people being who they were. But in this case, he’d been manipulated, and a man like Reilly would hate that. Because of what happened the other night, she felt overwhelmingly conscious of him. He wasn’t bulky and he certainly didn’t come close enough to invade her space, but she felt an almost over-the-top awareness of him anyway. As if her every nerve ending had been exposed by just looking at him. A product of what she’d let him do to her. Begged him to do to her.

  She knew why she was uncomfortable looking at him. He brought it all back—her neurotic behavior, the way she’d flung herself at him, everything. Oh, yes, she knew why her face was heating up even as she stood there.

  But she didn’t understand what was bothering him. He had nothing to be ashamed of; he hadn’t thrown himself at her. And if it was about the work, she was a fine worker, a hard worker and a good person to boot, damn it. “I don’t understand, Reilly, why you’re so upset.”

  He just stared at her with those light eyes that so easily hid his every thought.

  “I mean, yes, Eddie was a little sneaky about sending me here without telling us, but you did request a temp, right?” She purposely looked through him instead of at him because looking at him directly was like looking straight into the sun. Beautiful and dangerous all in one. “Or is it because it’s…me?”

  “It’s nothing personal,” he said. “I just work best with…a grumpy, old temp.” He propped his shoulder up against the door frame and folded his arms as he eyed her. “You’re not old and I doubt you have a grumpy bone in your entire body.”

  Wait— Was there a compliment in there somewhere?

  “Where’s Marge?” he asked. “I like Marge.”

  “Marge is maybe fifty-five and one of the nicest people I know. Hardly old and grumpy.”

  “She is when she’s here. She smells like mothballs and snaps my head off when I talk to her.”

  “Maybe you bring out the worst in people,” Tessa suggested, feeling a little grumpy herself now. She moved toward the reception desk and dropped her purse next to the computer, phone and adding machine. She could see down the hall where there were four doors, all closed. Glass and brick dominated the office. Not a plant or a splash of color in the place that was cool and a bit reserved.