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He looked up, his expression brooding. "Why did you go back to your own room?"
She sighed and then smiled. "Because I didn't know if you still wanted me to sleep with you,"
she said sadly. "You were half mad when you left, and you didn't say anything." Her shoulders lifted
and fell. "I didn't want to impose."
"My God, honey, we're married," he said huskily. "You couldn't impose on me if you tried."
She stared down at the big, lean hand holding hers. Its warm strength made her tingle. "You've
been very remote since we've been married."
"I think you're beginning to understand why, though, aren't you?" he asked softly.
She looked down into his dark, quiet eyes. She nodded. "You...want me."
"That's part of it," he agreed without elaborating. "Did you see Dr. Sims?"
Her blush gave him the answer even before she nodded.
He drew her down in the chair beside him. "I'll drive you to work," he said and pushed a platter
of eggs toward her.
She smiled, but she didn't let him see her do it.
Justin had calmed down by the time they got to Jacobsville, but Barry Holman set him off again
immediately when they reached the office. The handsome blond lawyer was outside on the street,
looking all around, and to an onlooker, it might have appeared as if he was waiting impatiently for
Shelby. To Justin, unfortunately, that's exactly what it looked like.
Holman's head lifted when Justin pulled the Thunderbird up at the curb, and his face lit up. He
smiled with exaggerated pleasure and rushed to meet Shelby with a cursory nod to Justin, whose
expression turned murderous.
"Thank God you're here," Barry enthused, opening the door for her. "I was afraid you were
going to be late. How pretty you look this morning!" He knew about day-before-yesterday's mishap, of
course, but Shelby was shocked by his attentiveness and was already beginning to wonder what ailed
him as he helped her onto the sidewalk. "I'll take good care of her, Justin," he said, adding fuel to the
fire, grinning at her smoldering husband.
Justin didn't answer him or speak to Shelby. He slammed the car door, his eyes glittering in
Shelby's direction, and roared away down the street.
"What's wrong?" Shelby asked, mentally nervous about Justin's unexpected anger. Mr. Holman
had certainly given Justin a bad impression of their working relationship.
"That woman has got to go," he said without preamble, waving his hands. "She's locked herself
in my office and she won't let me in. I've called the fire department, though," he added with a smug
glitter in his eyes. "They'll break the door down and get her out, and then she can leave. Permanently."
Shelby put a hand to her head. ' 'Mr. Holman, why is Tammy locked in your office?"
He cleared his throat. "It was the book."
"What book?"
"The book I threw at her," he said irritably.
"You threw a book at Tammy!" she gasped.
"Well, it was a dictionary." He shifted with his hands in his pockets. "We had a slight
disagreement over the spelling of a legal term, which I should know, Shelby," he added angrily, "after
all, I'm a lawyer. I know how to spell legal terms; they teach us that in law school."
Shelby, who'd sampled some of Mr. Holman's expertise at spelling legal terms, didn't say a
word.
He shifted again. "Well, I said some things. Then she said some things. Then I sort of tossed the
book her way. That was when she locked herself in my office."
"Just because of the book," she probed.
He stared down at the pavement. "Uh, yes. That. And the broken glass."
Her eyes gaped. "Broken glass?"
"The window, you know." He moved sheepishly toward the curb, having spotted what he was
searching for earlier. He picked up the torn dictionary with a faint grin. "Here it is! I knew it had to be
out here somewhere."
Shelby was torn between laughter and tears when the fire truck came blaring down the street
with its siren going and pulled to a screeching half at the curb.
"You didn't tell them why you needed them to come here, by any chance?" Shelby asked as she
watched the firemen, because they'd come in a pumper truck and were very obviously unwinding a
long, flat hose.
"No, come to think of it, I didn't. Hi, Jake!" Mr. Holman called to the fire chief with a big grin.
"Good of you to come. Uh, there's not exactly a fire, though. I'm more in need of a different kind of
help."
Jake, a big, burly man with a red face, came closer. "No fire? Well, what do you need us to do,
Barry?" he asked, gesturing to the men to roll up the hose again.
"I need you to break down my office door with an ax," Mr. Holman said.
"Why?"
"I lost my key," Mr. Holman improvised.
"Then wouldn't a locksmith do you more good?" Jake continued. He was beginning to give
Shelby's boss a strange kind of look.
Mr. Holman frowned thoughtfully. "Oh, no, I don't think so. It wouldn't make nearly the
impression that an ax would." Jake was looking puzzled.
"One of our...employees...has locked herself in the office and won't come out," Shelby
explained.
"Well, my gosh, Barry, an ax banging the door down would scare her slam to death!" Jake said.
"Yes," Mr. Holman smiled thoughtfully. "It sure as hell would."
Just as Jake started to speak, Tammy Lester came out of the building, looking explosive, and
went right up to Barry Holman and hit him as hard as she could.
"I quit," she said furiously, almost trembling with rage. "Sorry, Shelby, but you're back to being [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]