Free Conflict of Interest (The McClouds of Mississippi) by Gina Wilkins Page A

her weight on her ankle. Gideon had moved several items of clothing to his office and had been using the shower in the guest bathroom. She still felt rather guilty about taking his bed and bath, even though he’d brusquely insisted he didn’t mind at all.
    She’d thrown the clothes she’d worn yesterday into Gideon’s washer last night. They had been damp and dirty from her fall. She was rapidly running out of clean clothes, but she still had one casual outfit she hadn’t worn yet, a pair of black slacks and a black-and-white-patterned top. She slipped a black loafer on her left foot, but could only wear the black brace on her right. Using the crutches for balance, she left Gideon’s room.
    The kitchen was empty, but a covered plate sat on the counter. Lifting the lid, she found two large, golden-brown muffins oozing with blueberries. Apparently Gideon had stopped by the bakery again after taking Isabelle to school. Certain he had left these out for her, she poured herself a cup of coffee, set it on the table, then carried one of the muffins with her to a chair. Serving herself was quite a balancing act, but she managed.
    She took her time drinking the coffee and eating the muffin, enjoying both immensely. She’d been hungrier than she’d realized, probably because she hadn’t felt like eating much the night before. And she needed the time alone to prepare herself for seeing Gideon. If, of course, he ever emerged from his office.
    He did, in fact, less than ten minutes later. She had just finished her breakfast and was trying to muster the energy to pull out her computer when Gideon entered the kitchen, carrying an empty coffee mug and wearing a rather ferocious frown in addition to his standard uniform of jeans and T-shirt. “How’s your leg?”
    “Better, thank you.”
    His narrowed eyes swept her face. “That’s a lie.”
    “Not entirely. It is a little better.”
    Though he still looked skeptical, he grunted and moved toward the coffeemaker. “Don’t you want your other muffin?” he asked, glancing at the plate.
    “No, one was enough for me. It was delicious, by the way.”
    Snagging the remaining muffin, he nodded and headed toward the doorway again, his filled-to-the-brim coffee mug in his other hand. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
    “Gideon?”
    He paused with an expression that combined impatience and wariness. “What?”
    “When are we going to discuss the offers from your publisher?”
    “We’ll get to it. As soon as I—”
    “I know,” she interrupted in resignation. “As soon as you finish the scene you’re working on.”
    He looked at her a moment, then turned without another word and left the room. Adrienne stared after him thoughtfully. Something was different about him today. He was just as blunt as usual, but a bit more distant, perhaps. Did it have anything to do with last night? Had he, too, found that interlude a bit too…intimate for professional associates?
    A telephone rang, distracting her from that line of thought. At first she thought it was Gideon’s phone again. And then she realized it was her own cell phone, which was sitting on the counter beside her briefcase. Fumbling with the crutches, she got to it on the third ring. “Hello?”
    “Sorry to interrupt the vacation.”
    Instantly recognizing the apologetic voice, Adrienne settled carefully back into her chair. “Hi, Jacqueline. What’s up?”
    “Your father wants to know where you put the tax file he gave you to look over.”
    “I gave it back to him.”
    “I thought you did, but he swears you didn’t.”
    Adrienne rolled her eyes. “Look in his office, on the credenza behind his desk. It’s the red file on the left side of the credenza in a pile of other papers.”
    “Thanks. I’ll find it. So are you still in Mississippi?”
    “Yes, I am.”
    “Are you making any progress with Herman the Hermit?”
    Adrienne smiled ruefully at the nickname. “Not really, I’m afraid—though you