Free Back in the Bedroom by Jill Shalvis Page A

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
    T ESSA’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 voicewas 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