Free Yesterday's Love by Sherryl Woods Page A

evening with the Marshalls, going over and over everything that had happened in his usual methodical way, trying to figure out why Victoria’s impish humor had vanished. The evening had started out so well, and he hadn’t been mistaken about those kisses in her kitchen. She was more than attracted to him. She had wanted him as much as he wanted her. Yet when they’d returned to her house, alone again at last, she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
    He spent all morning at his desk shuffling papers and thinking about Victoria. His frustration and confusion, along with the sharp sexual tension in his abdomen that threatened to embarrass him, mounted all afternoon. He glanced up at the clock. It was 2:30 and Victoria was late again.
    â€œDamn it,” he grumbled moodily. “Why the devil can’t she at least learn to be on time? Doesn’t she own a watch?”
    â€œProblems?” Pete Harrison inquired from the doorway in his gruff, raspy voice. That voice, combined with his perpetual scowl, gave the impression that he was always angry. Tate was one of the few people on his staff who suspected he wasn’t.
    â€œI thought that crazy dame who wanted the refund was due in here this afternoon,” he said, staring at Tate pointedly. “Where is she?”
    â€œShe’s late.”
    Pete seemed about to growl, then said mildly, “Hey, McAndrews, don’t worry about it. What’d you expect from a kook?”
    Tate had expected this particular kook to at least make an attempt to be on schedule just this once, since it was her taxes they were trying to straighten out. For Pete’s benefit, he simply shrugged his agreement. There was no point in letting his boss know that he’d like to wring the woman’s pretty little neck. Pete would think the uncharacteristic display of emotion highly suspicious. He’d moved Tate quickly through the ranks precisely because of his cool, calm, objective demeanor. Murdering the subject of an audit simply because she was late for an appointment did not qualify as objective—much less rational—behavior.
    Despite his efforts to control it, some of his irritation apparently showed on his face anyway because Pete was regarding him suspiciously. “You okay, McAndrews? Is there a problem with this case I ought to know about?”
    â€œWhat kind of problem could there be? You said it. The woman’s a kook,” he said, immediately feeling disloyal. If she was that much of a kook, then why was he so damned attracted to her? Why had he been sitting at his desk all morning watching the clock and counting the hours until her arrival, instead of working on another file? Much as he hated to admit it, he could hardly wait to see how she’d look today. He wondered if he’d find her as alluring as ever. Even worse, he could hardly wait to see what crazy, quirky tangent her mind would take. None of this he could admit to Pete.
    Aloud, he said only, “I’ll have the whole thing wrapped up in a day or two.”
    Pete nodded. “Good. I need you on something else next week, so don’t waste any time.” Pete muttered something else about wasting taxpayer dollars investigating dingy females as he wandered away, leaving Tate to glare angrily at the sweeping second hand of the clock as though it were responsible for Victoria’s tardiness.
    He had started pacing around his office like a caged lion when the door swung open, and Victoria breezed in wearing a dress that must have been in vogue at the turn of the century. Tate was getting used to these out-of-date costumes of hers. He realized it somehow suited her with its puffed sleeves, fitted waist and mid-calf skirt. Still, he glanced cautiously down to check for high-button shoes, but her feet, thankfully, were clad in perfectly ordinary black patent pumps. From those tiny feet and well-turned ankles, his gaze rose to her face, hoping for at least some