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  But when he called, and she knew he would, she planned to suggest another meeting tonight, but this time for something simple like coffee. If they met early, around seven, she might still be able to drop in on her mom's basket party later. She wasn't into collecting baskets or any of that domestic stuff, but her mother was, and Kasey had decided to order something for her mom's birthday. It wouldn't be a surprise, but it would help her mother's sales count and give her a gift she really wanted, all at the same time.

  Sam needed a more domestic woman who cared about baskets and kitchen appliances and gardening. All Kasey cared about was sex. That might intrigue him for the time being, but eventually he'd expect her to develop more mature interests. After all, he owned a house. She kept coming back to that, hoping the thought of Sam Ashton, home owner, would blot out the thought of Sam Ashton, fabulous lover.

  Of course the great sex wasn't all of it, either. He was just plain adorable, with his water bottle full of wine and his box of crackers. He'd been so proud of his little house, and the yard where he'd created an oasis of calm. They hadn't been particularly calm last night. They'd made that hammock creak pretty loud.

  "Kasey? Kasey, are you still with us?"

  Startled, she glanced up and realized Beckworth had addressed her directly. And she'd been dreaming about Sam. She cleared her throat and hoped her cheeks weren't as rosy as they felt. "Sure am, Mr. Beckworth. Just now I was brainstorming how I might pull in some additional business."

  "And that was my question, Kasey." He peered at her over his reading glasses as light glanced off his polished head. His response to growing bald had been to shave the hair that was left. "All of us have contacts who could become clients—people in our congregation at church, friends we meet at our country club, even family members. So who have you come up with?"

  She should have known he'd pin her to the wall. He was convinced the younger generation had no attention span, and he'd just caught her staring off into space when she was supposed to be hanging on his every word. "I'm already talking to a potential client, and he may lead me to other accounts in that field," she said.

  "Excellent. Who would that be?"

  Of course he'd ask. She whipped out another line of BS. "I hesitate to announce who it is until I've worked out a few more details." She had no intention of following through with Sam, but maybe she could buy some time.

  Beckworth frowned. "Surely you could give us the name of the business, Kasey. We all understand that prospects can change their minds."

  "Well, he asked me to keep our negotiations quiet until he'd decided for sure. It's a delicate situation." Was it ever.

  "Very well." Beckworth obviously didn't like it, and he'd probably question her privately later, but he dropped the subject for now. "That means we've heard from everyone, then. I'll expect reports from each of you on your progress by the end of next week."

  Sure enough, he spoke up before she could leave the conference room. "May I see you a moment, Kasey?" He stood and began gathering his papers into a leather briefcase.

  "Of course." She straightened her shoulders and tried to look older.

  Beckworth waited until the others had left the conference room. "In general, I've been very happy with your performance," he said. "You show remarkable ability in one so young."

  "Thank you, Mr. Beckworth." She accepted his patronizing attitude because she owed him a lot. Beckworth was known throughout the Valley, and her work here would look great on her résumé if she decided to take a job outside Arizona. Her folks had begged her not to move for another couple of years, but someday she might try L.A. on for size.

  Beckworth cleared his throat. "In fact, this morning is the first time I've seen you distracted. I'm not sure I buy your explanation. Is anything wrong?"

  Omigod. He was showing his grandfatherly side, and she so didn't deserve it. She'd stayed out all night with a man and consequently wasn't at her best this morning. She didn't want him to be solicitous and kind.

  She took the coward's way out. "I think I might be coming down with something." Like terminal stupidity.

  "Then you should go home and rest." He looked as if he might even pat her shoulder, but seemed to change his mind at the last minute. "We're not running a slave galley, you know. And you do look a little flushed."

  No kidding. Anyone would look flushed when faced by a disaster that was getting worse by the minute. She couldn't go home because then she might miss Sam's call, or worse, the receptionist would say where she was and he might come over.

  When she had her talk with him they needed to be on neutral territory, someplace where he wouldn't be able to work his wiles on her. That expression had never made sense to her before, but it did now. Sam was loaded with wiles, and she was way too susceptible to them.

  "I'll take it easy today," she promised Beckworth. "Thank you for being concerned."

  "Of course I'm concerned. I'll admit I hired you against my better judgment, but you've proven yourself in the time you've been here. That's why I was so disconcerted by your behavior in the meeting today. It's not like you."

  "It won't happen again." Kasey realized he'd spoken abruptly during the meeting because he'd been worried about her. "And thank you for keeping the secret about my age. I think it helps with office dynamics."

  "I absolutely agree." He gave her a rare smile. "You have excellent potential in this field. Keep up the good work."

  "Thank you." He'd never praised her like this. How ironic that he'd choose the moment when she felt like a complete dunce. "And speaking of work, I'd better get back to it." She smiled as brightly as possible and hurried out of the conference room.

  Back in the main office she ignored the significant glances from Gretchen and Amy as she headed for her desk and switched on her computer.

  Within two minutes Gretchen approached, a file folder in her hand. Kasey knew it was a prop. Gretchen couldn't stand the suspense another minute.

  Tapping the file folder against the desk, she spoke in a low voice, no doubt worried about whether Beckworth might stroll through. "Please don't tell me that you spent your entire date with that hunk selling him on the idea of a PR campaign."

  Kasey bit the inside of her lip to keep from laughing. "Uh, no."

  "Oh, goodie. That means you had a hot time on the old town and you were thinking about that very thing when Beckworth nailed you for spacing out."

  "Something like that." No sense trying to fool Gretchen.

  "Oh, God. Listen, Myra says that Beckworth's taking off for a round of golf soon, which means that you can fill us in once he leaves. Deal?"

  Kasey coughed. "Well, there's really not a lot to tell." And most of it she'd take to her grave.

  "Not a lot to tell, my ass. I've never seen you as dreamy eyed as you were during the meeting. I'm guessing that—" Gretchen's eyes grew round at something on the other side of the room. "Hel-lo. If I'm not mistaken, Tarzan of the Chain Saw just walked in the office. And he's heading this way."

  Heart thumping, Kasey swiveled her chair around and stared straight into Sam's eyes.

  She watched as he headed over, looking fresh as a daisy in beige slacks and a white knit shirt with Ashton Landscaping embroidered on the pocket. A person would never believe that he'd been up most of the night, in more ways than one. Once again, she felt her cheeks grow hot as she remembered precisely what activities she'd enjoyed with him in his cozy backyard.

  "Hi," he said, giving her a warm smile. "I decided to come by this morning so we could discuss that PR campaign. The receptionist said it would be fine if I just came over here to talk to you, but if you're too busy right now, we can set up another time."

  "Hi, Sam." Kasey recognized Myra's handiwork. The receptionist had no doubt taken great pleasure in sending Sam right over without buzzing her desk first. Myra loved surprises.

  "Sam, I'm Gretchen Davies." Gretchen stuck out her hand. "All of us here really admire your work."

  "Thanks." Sam shook her hand. "I g
uess you had a bird's-eye view of the process yesterday."

  "That we did. Very inspiring."

  Kasey watched Gretchen bat her eyes at Sam and had an inspiration of her own. "About that project, Sam, I think Gretchen's the person to deal with you instead of me. She's had much more experience than I have, and I'm sure she'd have some great ideas for your new direction."

  "But you already have a grasp of my concept," Sam said. "No reflection on Ms. Davies, but you're the one I want to handle everything."

  "And you should handle everything, Kasey." Gretchen, the rat, actually winked at her. "I wouldn't dream of taking your hard-earned business, not when Mr. Beckworth asked us just this morning to bring in new clients. Obviously this is the lead you mentioned during the meeting, and he's all yours."

  "You mentioned me during the meeting?" Sam looked pleased.

  "I didn't mention you by name." Kasey hoped this was a nightmare and she'd wake up very soon.

  "You could have," he said. "I was absolutely serious about hiring you. I want to do that, and if you're being asked to bring in new clients, so much the better. Here I am."

  "I'll leave you two to discuss the next step," Gretchen said. "Nice meeting you, Sam."

  "Same here, Gretchen." Then he turned back to Kasey. "I really can come back later if now isn't a good time. You look a little harried."

  A little harried? She felt as if someone had tossed her insides into a blender. "Uh, no, this is fine. Please sit down."

  "Okay." Sam settled into the upholstered armchair next to her desk. Then he lowered his voice. "I really do plan to hire you, but mostly I wanted to see you again. Turns out the job we had scheduled for today canceled this morning, so I had some time on my hands. I wanted to apologize for making you rush out of my house this morning. We had no chance to talk."

  She didn't want to discuss that now. "It wasn't your fault."

  "It was my fault. I was the host, which meant I should have made sure we woke up in plenty of time."

  In spite of his low tone, Kasey worried that Sam's voice might carry to the neighboring desks. If any of her co-workers caught the phrase made sure we woke up, she'd never hear the end of it. She needed to put an end to speculation. "I understand that you want to wake up your company image," she said very clearly. "What sort of a budget are you looking at for your campaign?"

  He gave her a slow smile. "Whatever it takes."

  Her heart, not exactly steady in the first place, skipped a few more beats. She had to face the fact she was being wooed. She'd have to put a stop to it, of course, but it might not be easy. She eyed him nervously. In fact, the determination in his expression made it clear it would be damned tough.

  As if to drive the final nail in her coffin, Beckworth approached her desk. "Kasey, if I may interrupt for a moment?"

  "Certainly, Mr. Beckworth." She could guess what this was about. He wanted to be introduced to the man at her desk because he'd guessed this might be the mystery client she'd referred to, and he didn't like being kept in the dark.

  Beckworth confirmed that by pausing to glance pointedly at Sam.

  She had no choice but to make the introduction. "Uh, Sam Ashton, I'd like you to meet Arnold Beckworth, the head of our firm."

  Sam stood and shook the older man's hand. "Glad to meet you."

  Beckworth glanced at Sam's shirt pocket. "Pleased to meet you, as well. Ashton Landscaping, eh? Interested in having some PR work done, by any chance?"

  "Actually, yes. Ms. Braddock and I were just discussing some of the details. She's extremely creative. I probably don't have to tell you that."

  Beckworth smiled, obviously happy to have his curiosity satisfied and a new client on board so quickly. "Extremely creative," he said. "You couldn't be in more capable hands."

  "I couldn't have said it better."

  Kasey wanted to crawl under the desk. If Sam hadn't been thinking about sex before, he definitely was now after Beckworth's remark about capable hands. "I appreciate the confidence you both have in me," she said. Man, did that sound stuffy. Then she remembered that Beckworth still hadn't stated his alleged reason for coming over to her desk. She looked at him. "Was there something you needed to talk to me about?"

  "You know, it can wait. Sorry to have interrupted you. I have a ten-thirty tee time. I'll catch you tomorrow." He held put his hand to Sam. "I'm happy you've chosen Beckworth. I know you'll be pleased with our service."

  Sam returned his handshake. "Thanks. I already am. Very pleased."

  Kasey gulped. That's what she got for thinking she could play with the big boys. She was in so much trouble, it wasn't even funny.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  «^»

  "Were you on time this morning?" Sam asked. Kasey sure was acting strange, considering how sexy and open she'd been on their date.

  "I was, just barely." She turned away from him and typed in something on her computer. Then she swiveled back to face him and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Would you prefer to pay by the hour or put me on a retainer?"

  "What's the difference?" He tried to keep his mind on the business at hand, instead of the way her blue silk blouse clung to her breasts and how her blond hair rippled when she moved her head.

  "If we go hourly, I'll bill you every time we talk about the project. If you put me on a monthly retainer, you'll have unlimited consultation time. If you think we can wrap this up in five to ten hours, then hourly would be the way to go. If you expect it to take more than, say, fifteen hours, then you'd be money ahead to pay the retainer."

  "Then I want the retainer." Unlimited time with Kasey sounded perfect to him. Then he wouldn't feel guilty if the topic of business came up on a date. It wouldn't seem like he was trying to get free advice in a social situation.

  That was why he'd come into her office ASAP, so she wouldn't ever think he was trying to take advantage of their relationship to get PR help for nothing. He was confused about her attitude, though. Apparently she'd been interested enough in the project to mention it to her boss this morning, and yet a few minutes ago she'd fried to turn his account over to her friend Gretchen.

  "Retainer, then." She typed that into her computer. "I'll need your numbers—work, home, fax, cell."

  "I can't believe I didn't give you all that yesterday." He took a business card out of his wallet and slid it across the desk. "That's another reason I came in. I realized you couldn't call me because you didn't have any of this information."

  She scooted the card closer and filled in the little boxes on her screen. "Okay, then." Swinging back around, she faced him with all the eagerness of a mourner at a wake. "We need to do some preliminary work before I can outline a potential campaign for your approval. I can either ask you the questions now, or give you a questionnaire to fill out."

  He leaned in a little closer. "Kasey, why don't you want to do this?"

  "Of course I want to do this." Her jaw was rigid.

  "No, you don't. And I need to understand why. Can we go get some coffee and talk about it?"

  She looked wary. "Where?"

  "I was thinking Coco's down the street." He'd love to take her home with him, but that might get her into trouble.

  "Um, maybe that's a good idea."

  "Then let's go." He waited for her to grab her briefcase, although she left her suit jacket hanging on the back of her chair as if to signal that she was coming back shortly.

  Obviously she was a very conscientious worker, and he'd respect that. He paused by the front door while she spoke to the receptionist, a woman named Myra. Myra had been very nice to him when he'd arrived, much more welcoming than Kasey, come to think of it. Myra smiled at Kasey as if they shared some sort of secret. Maybe they did, because as Kasey turned and walked toward him, she was blushing.

  "All I have is my truck," he said as they left the office and headed for the elevator.

  "That's fine."

  He thought of her climbing into his truck in that short skirt and hoped h
e'd be able to control himself. A gentleman would help a lady up in a situation like that, but hoisting Kasey onto the seat could create a host of problems for him. He'd have to think about dissecting frogs again.

  Although they passed a couple of people in the hall, they had the elevator to themselves. Sam kept his distance, not wanting to start something he couldn't finish, but at least he could speak freely now. "I really am sorry that we were rushed this morning," he said. "When two people have shared as much as we did, they should have a chance to talk to each other before they go on about their day."

  Her expression had closed down again. "Maybe that was for the best."

  "Why would that be for the best?"

  "Because now you're a client."

  He didn't like the way she said that, as if he'd contracted a contagious disease. The elevator opened and he ushered her into the lobby. "And your point is?"

  "I'll explain over coffee." Then she turned a smile on two businessmen coming through the front door of the building. "Good morning!"

  They both greeted her in return, and Sam felt like a little boy who'd been chastised for talking during class. Once they were outside the building, he told her that.

  "I just don't want my colleagues to get the idea that I have a personal relationship with a client." She put on her sunglasses.

  "Why not?" Sliding on his own shades, he led the way to the parking lot, reaching for his keys as he walked.

  "It's unprofessional."

  "Oh, come on. Are you saying that if your dear uncle Morty wanted to hire you to do PR work, you'd refuse because you already know him?"

  "That's not the same thing."

  "Sure, it is." As they approached the passenger side of his truck, he clicked the button on his key chain and unlocked the door. "And I'm paying the retainer, so that simplifies our interaction, don't you think?"

  "No."

  He sighed. This was getting very complicated, but she was worth it. He opened the door. "I'll need to help you in."

  "I can do it." She stepped up on the running board. Then she turned to him. "Go ahead and get in. I can make it."