Free Falling For Her Boss by Karen Rose Smith Page A

would have stopped drinking, maybe she would have settled in one place, maybe she'd still be alive.
    "What's next?" Francie asked almost impatiently.
    "Plumbing," he answered.  "Have you had any problems with the bathrooms or kitchen?"
    "No," Francie sighed as she restlessly crossed her legs. 
    When Noah looked up from the form, her eyes met his.  A stream of excitement shot through her as she remembered his arms around her in the garage apartment.  His eyes darkened to deep jade, and she knew he was remembering, too.  The tension between them was making her jumpy.
    She tore her gaze from his and looked down at the disclosure paper.  But instead of the form, her eyes fell on Noah's hand as it lay across the top corner.  He had long fingers.  The middle one on the left hand looked as if it might have been broken at one time.  It was slightly crooked.
    "I caught it in a car door."
    She looked up, embarrassed.  "Don't you miss anything?"
    He smiled.  "I try not to.  If I'm on top of everything that goes on around me, I can be prepared for what happens next."
    When his lips curved like that she wanted to touch them. "Always?"
    His brows drew together and the line of his jaw became sharper.  "No, not always.  Sometimes I miss what's right under my nose."
    She tried to draw her attention away from his lips by staring into his eyes, but they were just as intriguing.  They were deep green and secretive.  "You have something specific in mind?"
    "Yes, I do."
    "But you're not going to tell me what."
    "No."
    It annoyed her that, though she had confided so easily in him, he was so guarded with her.  "Do you share your personal life with anyone?"
    "Maybe I don't have a personal life."
    "Surely you have friends, people you care about."
    He picked up the pen, clicked it open and shut.  "A few.  But you have to remember my life is on the road.  I might be at my home base in Richmond a month at the longest, three or four times a year.  During the rest, I just stop in for a weekend or a few days."
    Francie shook her head.  "I don't see how you can live like that.  I never got used to traveling for competitions, living out of a suitcase.  Brent seemed to thrive on it.  I...I missed my family."
    Noah settled back in his chair, his elbows on the arms.  "When did you first leave home?"
    "When I was thirteen.  A coach saw me at a regional competition and told my parents she could take me further than my present coach.  So I moved to Boston to train with her."
    He laid the pen on the desk and focused his full attention on her.  "That must have been hard for your parents."
    She shifted in her chair; his compelling green eyes seemed to see through her.  "It was.  But they wanted me to succeed.  Sometimes I think Mama wanted it more than I did.  I simply wanted to skate.  She wanted to see me at the Olympics."
    "When did McIntosh come into the picture?"
    Noah's voice was neutral, but there was a quality there that made her wonder what he was thinking.  "When I was eighteen.  It's hard to believe we skated together for almost six years."
    "He took the place of your family."
    Noah's intuition was at work again.  She shouldn't be surprised.  "I guess he did.  I depended on him too much.  I'll never make that mistake again."
    "Depending on people is hard for me, too," Noah admitted, leaning forward.  "If you depend on someone, they can let you down."
    "Exactly."  A bond of understanding surrounded her and Noah.  Brent had let her down.  But who had hurt Noah?  His mother?  Craig?  A woman?  Francie's heard pounded.  She didn't like the idea of another woman with Noah.  "Have you ever been married?"
    Noah looked surprised by her question.  "No.  With my lifestyle it wouldn't be feasible or fair."
    "You don't see that changing?"
    "Not in the near future."
    Well, that was plain enough.  Settling down was definitely not in Noah's plans.  Why had she even entertained the possibility?  Because she was thinking