Free Kane, Andrea by Scent of Danger Page A

The rest of it—the fluidity of her movements, her innate
poise, and her patrician bearing, not to mention the incredible body that only
a dead man wouldn't notice—those attributes she obviously owed to her mother.
    She looked exhausted, with lines of fatigue around her eyes and
dark circles beneath them. At the same time, she was composed, her corporate
training kicking in to help her hide whatever emotional turmoil she was
experiencing. He wished she were more readable; he was good at seeing through
people, and he would have given a king's ransom to be able to read her mind.
    What had she decided to do—or not to do—about Carson?
    "Let's go up to my office," she said quietly.
    He nodded, following her down the hall and up a short flight of
stairs. Her office was in a private alcove at the end of a plant-lined
corridor, with only her assistant's cubicle sharing that section of the
building.
    "Hi." Melissa Andrews greeted Sabrina, then started as
she saw who was with her. Glancing from Sabrina to Dylan and back again, she
sat up straighter, her brows arching with interest. "Did you just get
back?"
    "Um-hum." Sabrina paused beside Melissa's desk,
rummaging through the early morning memos and telephone messages already
waiting for her. " I did. Mr. Newport didn't. He spent the night at
CCTL. I spent the night at my mother's. I'm assuming Mr. Newport slept alone.
But you can check with him after our meeting." Sabrina looked up.
"Anything urgent I should know about?"
    "Nope. Business as usual." Her assistant didn't seem
thrown by the curt, no-bullshit reply. For his part, Dylan had to bite back a
grin. If that response wasn't Carson, nothing was.
    "Good." Sabrina plucked out two memos and one phone
message, handing them to Melissa before placing the rest of the pile back where
she'd found it. "Deal with these. Also, ask Deborah and Mark to divvy up
my workshops for the next day or two. Everything else can wait till I come
back."
    "Back? You're going away?"
    "Briefly, yes. I'll fill you in on where and when after I
meet with Mr. Newport." Sabrina gestured for Dylan to accompany her into
her office. "Hold all my calls," she instructed Melissa. "I'm
out to everyone except my mother."
    Dylan followed her into the office and shut the door behind him.
"You decided to come to New York," he stated flatly, seeking the
confirmation he needed.
    Sabrina poured herself a glass of water, taking a few bolstering
swallows before she turned to face Dylan. "Yes, I did." She set down
the glass, tracing the rim with her fingertip. "I caught the business news
this morning. His condition sounds iffy. I want to meet him. That's all I'm
committing to for now."
    "Fine," Dylan replied. It wasn't really, but it was a
start. Meeting Carson was the first step toward helping him.
    "I've got a few loose ends to tie up," Sabrina
continued, feathering her fingers through her hair in a weary gesture.
"Then, I'll throw some things in a bag. Give me fifteen minutes. There's a
ten forty-five flight that gets into LaGuardia at noon. Will that work?"
    "Yeah, it'll work." Dylan cleared his throat. Despite
his relief over her decision, he couldn't help feeling responsible for the
emotional chaos he'd thrust into her life. Getting into this with her mother
couldn't have been pleasant. And now—facade or not, she looked pale and
faraway. "Are you okay?"
    "As okay as you'd expect." Her chin came up—a clear
indication that she wasn't about to lower her guard. "Don't worry about
me, Mr. Newport. I hold up well under pressure. Besides, it's not me I'm
concerned with. It's my family. I'm trying to think of ways to keep the press
from jumping all over this."
    "You could start by calling me Dylan."
    As intended, his abrupt change in subject and tone came at her out
of left field, rattling her facade, if not lowering it. She blinked, eyeing him
warily. "And how exactly would that help?"
    He shrugged, folding his arms across his chest. "You just said
that your trip to New