Free A MAN CALLED BLUE by EC Sheedy

smile back.
    "If there's one thing I don't need right now, it's another challenge. I have a full agenda already, remember."
    "Know what I think?" he asked.
    "No, but I'm guessing you'll tell me."
    "I think you've got a case of terminal professionalism."
    She planted her hands on her slim hips and gave him the warning glare of a bantam rooster. Her lips were a straight stubborn line. "And I think we're done here."
    He looked down at her, watched the silk of her blouse pull enticingly over her breasts. He resisted the urge to touch her, stroke her back to good humor. Given time, he could learn to like this woman. A lot. The thought made him frown. He hadn't expected to like Simone Doucet.
    "Does that mean you want me to go?"
    "Another astute deduction," she said tersely. "I'm sure we can both find something better to do with the next few hours other than bait each other."
    "Can't think of a thing."
    "Try reviewing Hallam's sales projections. We'll discuss them over dinner." Her tone was cool and managerial.
    Smiling, Blue decided to give her the last word—he guessed she was used to it—and headed for the door. He was surprised when he heard her voice again, softer this time.
    "Blue."
    He turned, standing in the open door connecting their suites. "Uh-huh?"
    "About today. I appreciate your work. You reduced a complicated set of financials to a workable summary. I know that's a real talent. Thank you."
    He considered a wisecrack, but discarded it when he looked at her. She was sincere; he could see that, and her praise hadn't come easy. She stood, straight as a plank, rubbing her thumb tip along the shaft of a pen. The movement was rhythmic, the pressure strong enough to whiten her knuckle.
    He nodded. "No problem. See you at dinner."
    She dipped her delicate chin. "Dinner."
    * * *
    The table sat fourteen. Simone looked it over nervously. She'd never thought about the formality, the immensity of it before. Filled with guests or on one of her rare one-on-one dinners with Josephine, it seemed right. Now, set for two, with the length of a bowling lane between settings of priceless Minton dinner ware, it looked pretentious.
    "It's seven-thirty-three, madam. Shall I serve?" Mrs. Dreiser asked, giving a final nudge to a salad fork not quite parallel to the plate.
    "No, Mrs. Dreiser, we'll wait for Mr. Bludell. He won't be much longer."
    When Mrs. Dreiser left the room, Simone, wineglass in hand, drifted toward the adjoining parlor. She favored the odd little room. In the home's early days, it served the gentlemen of the house by providing a male haven to enjoy after-dinner port and an imported cigar. She'd claimed it for her own, and with only a nodding regard for its masculine history, decorated it in deep shades of plum and forest green, bringing in lighter accents with cheery damask and bold chintz. It was a happy mixture of colors and furniture and a room she truly enjoyed. Two high-back chairs flanked a fireplace whose summer-darkened center formed a backdrop for a lush bouquet of fresh hydrangea and roses.
    She sank into one of the chairs. Her attention caught by a perfect pink rose, she reached over, pulled it from the vase, and brought it to her nose.
    Blue. What was she going to do about him? Simone stroked the rose, then trailed the bloom over her cheek. She was attracted to him and knew that was dangerous.
    She had what she wanted—or at least would have when she became more comfortable doing business at the international level. She wouldn't let a misguided attraction threaten it.
    She plucked a rose petal and pressed it gently between her thumb and index finger. It was as light as Blue's feathery kiss of the night before.
    She crushed the petal and put it in a crystal ashtray. She didn't want to think about Blue's kiss, or where it might lead. An unexpected sexual tug, that's all it was. She'd cope. Sex. She hardly thought of it anymore, leaving it well behind on the learning curve she'd been on since Harper left and she