Free Linda Lael Miller Bundle by Linda Lael Miller Page A

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    Shay, whose job and personal responsibilities had always forced her to be strong, suddenly ached with shyness. “Strictly business?” she croaked out.
    Mitch’s silence was somehow endearing, as though he had reached out to caress her cheek or smooth her hair back from her face, but it was also brief. “Until we both decide otherwise, princess,” he said softly. “You’re not walking into any heavy scenes, so relax. You’re safe with me.”
    Tears filled Shay’s eyes, coming-home tears, in-out-of-the-rain tears. She would be safe with Mitch, and that was a new experience for Shay, one she had never had with Rosamond or Eliott. “Thanks,” she managed to say.
    “No problem,” came the velvety yet gruff reply. “Remember, though, I’m not promising that I won’t tease you about this morning.”
    Shay found herself laughing, a moist sound making its way through receding tears. “If you think the bee debacle was bad, wait until you hear about my next epic.”
    “The suspense is killing me,” Mitch replied with good-natured briskness, but then his voice was soft again, at once vulnerable and profoundly reassuring. “It looks as though it might rain. Drive carefully, Shay.”
    “What time do you want me?”
    Mitch laughed. “You name a time, baby, and I want you.”
    “Let me rephrase that,” retorted Shay, smiling. “What time is dinner?”
    “Now. Whenever.” He paused, sighed in exasperation. “Shay, just get over here, before I go crazy.”
    “Can you stay sane for half an hour? I want to change clothes.”
    She could almost see his eyebrows arch. “Wear the bee suit,” he answered. “It really turns me on.”
    Shaking her head, Shay said goodbye and hung up. Her step was light as she hurried down into the hallway and outside to her car. The sky had clouded over, just as Mitch had said, and there was a muggy, pre-storm heaviness in the summer air. Shay blamed her sense of sweet foreboding on the weather.
    At home, she quickly showered, put on trim gray slacks and a lightweight sweater to match, reapplied her makeup and gave her damp hair a vigorous brushing. It was a glistening mane of softness, tumbling sensuously to her shoulders and she decided that the look was entirely too come-hither. With a few brisk motions, she wound it into a chignon and then stood back from the bathroom mirror a little way to assess herself. Yes, indeed, she looked like the no-nonsense type all right. “Strictly business,” she reminded her image aloud, before turning away.
     
    Since his new housekeeper, Mrs. Carraway, had left for the day, Mitch answered the door himself. He knew the visitor would be Shay, and yet he felt surprised at the sight of her, not only surprised, but jarred.
    She was wearing gray slacks and a V-necked sweater to match. Her makeup was carefully understated and her hair was done up, instead of falling gracefully around her shoulders as it usually did, and Mitch suppressed a smile. Obviously she had made every effort to look prim, but the effect was exactly the opposite: she had achieved a sexy vulnerability that made him want her all the more.
    For several moments, Mitch just stood there, staring at her like a fool. The cymballike clap of thunder roused him, however, and he remembered his manners and moved back from the doorway. “Come in.”
    Shay stepped into the house with a timid sort of bravado that touched Mitch deeply. Were her memories of the place sad ones, or were they happy? He wanted to know that and so much more, but getting close to this woman was a process that required a delicate touch; she was like some wild, beautiful, rarely seen creature of the forests, ready to flee at the slightest threat.
    “Your things haven’t arrived,” she said, her eyes sweeping the massive empty foyer swiftly, as though in an effort not to see too much.
    Gently, Mitch took her elbow in his hand, still fearing that she would bolt like a unicorn sensing a trap. “Actually,” he