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.He turned to the two beside him.“Mother, Tom, why don’t you go into the dining room and wait there? I’ll be along in a minute.”“Is there anything I can do?” his mother asked with a furtive glance down at Whitney.“I don’t believe I know your friend.”Whitney crawled to her feet.“I’m—”“She’s Sara Jones, Mother,” Daniel said quickly, “my new maid.Sara, this is Rebecca Graham, my mother, and Thomas Walker, a friend of the family’s.”“Delighted to meet you, Miss Jones,” Thomas said.“Likewise,” Rebecca said politely: “I’ve been telling Daniel for months he should get someone in full time to help with this place.If you’ll excuse us…”“Well,” Daniel said when they’d gone, “did you find anything?”“My earring, you mean? Nope.”“You have two darling little pearls in your ears, sweetheart.”She rinsed her hands off in the sink.“You shouldn’t call your maid sweetheart.”“Damn it, Whitney,” he said sharply.“Sara,” she corrected, taking a hand towel and turning to him.“Remember?”“I could wring your neck!”His voice was low and menacing, but for some inexplicable reason Whitney wasn’t the least nonplussed.He glared at her, and all she could think of was how spectacular he looked all dressed up in his tan gabardine suit.“And I thought the real Daniel Graham was not interested in kissing my neck,” she said lightly.“Don’t push your luck, Whitney,” he grunted.“You searched my house, didn’t you?”She took great care in wiping her hands.“What gave you that idea?”“That’s my record playing, isn’t it?”“And your trash I picked through—not enough evidence for your conclusion, Mr.Graham.And I’ll have you know you threw away a perfectly good set of clothes.I rescued them.”“You’re trying my patience.”“So fire me.”He sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead as if he had a migraine.She noticed the fine yellow cotton of his shirt and the understated madras tie he had added.The tanned skin above his collar drew her eye, and she noted every last detail of his lean, muscular physique.This has to stop, she thought, wondering if another piece of toast and marmalade would help the funny feeling in the pit of her stomach.“I’d like to stick your butt on a plane back to Schenectady,” he grumbled, “but things are in enough of a mess as it is.”Whitney draped the towel over the edge of the sink.“I appreciate your concern,” she said dryly, “but I assure you I can handle my own butt.”For an instant she saw the glint of humor in his eyes.“Can you now?”She couldn’t resist an answering glint of humor in her own eyes.The man didn’t need to resort to nasty tricks to drive a woman crazy! “Why did you lie about me?” she asked, sounding much more placid than her insides suggested she was.“They’ll find out sooner or later I’m not your maid, you know.”“Same reason you’ve been lying to me, Whitney,” he replied, pushing the tails of his jacket back in yet another pose Whitney found impossibly sensual.She could see the expensive leather belt and the enticing line of his narrow hips.“Expediency.And, by the way, don’t think I’ve forgotten about your lies.You still owe me one hell of an explanation, sweetheart.”‘‘I’ve been trying to think up a new one all morning,” she said airily.Daniel was not amused.“I want the truth this time, Whitney.And you are going to tell me.”“Or?”“Pray it doesn’t come to that.”“You’re not as intimidating without your assorted weapons.”“Shall I get them out?” But he couldn’t hold back a smile.“There’s no need,” she said with a sniff.“I know where they are.”“Damn it, you did search my house!”“Every nook and cranny.I like your bathroom, by the way.But I thought everyone in Florida was water-conscious.You could bathe an entire harem in that tub.Who knows, maybe you have.”Daniel sucked in a deep, sharp breath.“I can’t wait to see you go up against Dr.Paderevsky,” he muttered.“After you, Harry will seem downright tame.Whitney, you know I won’t hurt you—I only want you to talk to me.”“The feeling’s mutual, Daniel.”“All right, then we’ll talk, but first I have another mess to sort out.My mother and Thomas both sit on the orchestra’s board of directors.Why I ever agreed to become chairman is totally beyond me, but I suppose it’ll be good for our community image—unless Dr.Paderevsky doesn’t straighten out.” He broke off with a clipped hiss.“Look, Whitney, in about ten minutes several people from the orchestra are going to be here.As far as I know, they still think you’re not arriving until this afternoon.My life would be much simpler if they continue under that impression.”“Frankly, so would mine.”“I had a feeling you’d agree,” he said coolly.Whitney sighed.“One minute the man’s cursing me to the rafters and the next he wants a favor—”“Would you prefer I tied you up and stuffed you in the pantry? This is not a game, Whitney.”“You’re telling me? Who, may I ask, has been physically assaulted and interrogated at gunpoint?”“I did not assault you.”“You—”“Whitney, I don’t have time.Will you please make yourself scarce?”She folded her arms stubbornly across her chest.“What ‘s the meeting about? Has Dr.Paderevsky—”“None of your damned business.Now go on and get, will you?”She just managed to dodge a motivating slap on the rump.Or, as he would say, butt.“Okay, okay,” she said “but who’s going to make coffee?”He shook his head, exasperated.“I can manage.”Whitney grinned on her way out the kitchen door.“With a full-time maid at your beck and call? I’d like to hear you explain that one to your mother.”She was quite sure only the sound of a car engine in the driveway prevented him from coming after her.Chapter FiveFrom a crack in her bedroom door, Whitney watched the people parade into the dining room for Daniel’s mysterious meeting.She felt a great sense of foreboding as she began to recognize faces.She instantly spotted Yoshifumi Kamii, the brilliant concertmaster of the CFSO, and Angelina Carter, the principal flutist, both of whom Whitney had known during her days in New York City.There were also associate conductor and principal violist Bradley Fredericks, whom she thought she recognized, and a tall, lanky black man she suspected might be principal cellist Lucas Washington.A youngish tawny-haired man followed them into the hall, greeted everyone in a friendly drawl, and, beaming, held the swinging dining room door open for Angelina.Whitney assumed him to be the likable Matthew Walker, general manager of the CFSO.Now he, she thought, was handsome and chivalrous.Normally Whitney didn’t spy on other people’s conversations, but this time she knew she had to.The one person who should have been at any meeting between members of the orchestra and the board of directors wasn’t there: Victoria Paderevsky.And as irritating as the woman could be, Whitney was very definitely on her side.So, like any good maid, Whitney tiptoed out to the closed double dining room doors and listened at the keyhole.“You must understand,” Yoshifumi was saying in his distinctive Tokyo accent, “that we are acting out of concern for Dr.Paderevsky.We are not trying to undermine her authority.”It was almost twelve-thirty, Whitney thought.They must have come directly from rehearsal—at Paddie’s request? It didn’t sound like it.“But you’re meeting here without her knowledge,” Daniel Graham pointed out [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]