your career if there is budget for a cell phone.”
She turned around and leaned against the kitchen counter. Her dad was her best friend, the parent who had wanted her. Sure, she was grown and past childhood insecurities, but her mother’s desertion still had the power to hurt. Her dad’s voice soothed the wounds. He’d launched into a tale of his navy years and she laughed again, as she had the hundred other times she’d heard the same story.
“All right, off to bed with you, young lady,” her father said at last. “Story time is over.”
“Not until you tell me what the doctor said today.”
There was a short silence on the other end of the phone.
“Dad, I’m not going to be brushed off that easily,” she warned him. “I was raised by a crusty sailor.”
Her father offered her a chuckle. “You’re my girl, through and through. The doctor told me to get a second opinion if I didn’t like what he had to say. So that’s what I’m doing.”
“Dad—”
“That’s my plan, Sabra. I’m a grown man, and I’ve lived enough years to know that one doctor doesn’t always agree with another one. Now you sleep tight and I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Her dad was so damned stubborn.
Just like Tarak.
The man was also insanely vibrant; his essence was floating through her house. Wasn’t there some unspoken law of the universe that made it impossible to be turned on while talking to your father? It didn’t seem to be applying itself. The darkness just made her long for companionship even more.
***
The feeling followed her into her bedroom and sleep eluded her. At least good, sound sleep did. She was grateful for her alarm putting an end to her tossing. But one look in the mirror and she knew the day was going to be a bitch.
The right side of her face was black and blue. She rubbed her eyes and looked again, hoping she was just groggy.
No such luck.
Anastasia had clobbered her good. Maybe Celeste had the right idea—a few martial arts lessons might just be the ticket. At least the idea kept her moving and got her to work on time.
“Good morning, Ms—” Claudia covered her gaping mouth with her hand.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” Sabra tried to make her tone light.
“Yes it is.”
Recognition was instant. It felt as if she registered Tarak’s voice on a cellular level. He was standing in the hallway, holding the door she’d just come through open. His suit was Armani and his shirt pressed perfectly. He looked like a corporate tycoon, until she locked gazes with him. Once she looked into his eyes, all she saw was the Apache. There was nothing about him that fit in with the society around them.
“My office, Ms. Donovan. We need to discuss last evening.”
She avoided making eye contact until she was inside his office. As far as business tycoon dens went, it was cutting edge, but she was still dwelling on the fact that he’d known where she was the night before.
She was only two steps inside his office when she demanded, “Are we alone?”
He whipped around, his hair flipping back from his face. “Yes.”
“Then this better be about business and not the bruise your girlfriend left on my face.”
He didn’t like her statement, not a bit. But he just crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the edge of his desk, which was gigantic and impressive. But she was concentrating on his reasons for dragging her into his office while letting his secretary hear that he was keeping tabs on her after hours.
“You told me that I am up here because you think I can handle the job. Saying you want to discuss last night in front of both our secretaries isn’t keeping this on a professional level.”
His gaze settled on the side of her face. “You’re right, but the situation is extreme.”
“It’s a bruise and I’ve had worse.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. She got stuck looking at his mouth. God, he knew how to kiss. Kevin sure hadn’t curled her toes the way Tarak