by
Diane Maxwell
Manuscript Complete / 200,000 words / Contemporary Romance
Copyright 2001 All rights reserved to the author
No copying in any form electronically or by any given means without the expressed written consent of the author
Chapter 9
Rose leapt from Michael's lap. "What are you doing here?"
Tall, elegant, the very picture of a runway model, Annie Swain picked her way into the room. She took small mincing steps, hampered by six inch spike heels and an extremely short, tight leather skirt. A cloud of Chanel reached with gagging grips out from her. Her gaze took in the room with the swiftness of a striking cobra.
"I came to tell you those fabrics you wanted will be delivered once the cleaning crew finishes." She tossed her head. Waves of fiery red hair tumbled down her back. "Am I interrupting?"
"Of course not," Rose said quickly, probably too quickly. "We, I mean, I was just doing some sketching--"
"From his lap?" Annie narrowed heavily made up, black as sin eyes on Michael. "You've never said anything nice about him. Now I know why."
A stab of jealous fury shot through Rose. Annie gazed at him with open invitation. Her hands ran over her body from shoulder to hip and back again. Her tongue stroked her lips in what was supposed to be an unconscious movement. She all but undulated as she stood directly across from him.
Would Michael fall for it? Just as all her other conquests?
"No wonder you didn't want me around," Annie continued. Her eyes never left him. "You wanted this little project all to yourself."
Rose gritted her teeth. She couldn't make Annie mad. She'd practiced this control for eight months. It was time to practice it again. "This beam fell and--"
"Really? You don't say," Annie bit off the words. "How?"
"I imagine gravity played a major part," Michael inserted. "It certainly doesn't take a physics major to see that."
Rose almost grinned at his clipped, abrupt tone. He wasn't at Annie's feet? Lord, a first for everything. "If Mich-- St. Lawrence hadn't knocked me out of the way, the beam would have landed on me."
Annie finally stopped moving and glared at her. "You never said he was so attractive. Now he's a hero, too?"
"I suppose he. . ." Rose's words ended in a tight gasp. She dropped to her knees beside the lifeless form on the floor. "Michael, help me! We've got to move this thing off of him!"
He reached her side instantly, just as he had been when she first encountered the dog. "It won't do any good."
She shook her head as guilt filled her. "It's my fault. If I hadn't been trying to get him to come to me, he wouldn't be dead."
"Rose, sweetheart, of course it isn't your fault," he whispered as he rubbed her shoulders. "You didn't make this beam fall."
"But I was trying to make him come to me. If I'd just let him go, called animal control like you suggested then--"
"Oh, for hell's sake!" Annie shouted, rapping one sharp heel on the wooden floor. "Quit being so damned sentimental about some stupid animal and worry about that mess it's made."
"Be quiet," Michael growled at her while Rose struggled to get herself under control. "It's not your fault, sweetheart. You know it's not."
For a moment, a very brief moment, she thought about snuggling against him again and letting his strong arms shut out the world as they had after the beam first fell.
But she wasn't in shock anymore. And she wasn't a fool. "I have to bury him." She pushed his hands off her shoulders and got to her feet. "I'll call Mark. He and the crew can help me move the beam."
"I'm not helping," Annie announced as she turned to teeter away. "I'm not staying, either. When you're ready to be serious about your job, Rose Anderson, a job I provide the money for, you know how to reach me."
"Yes I do," Rose murmured. Lord, she wished she didn't need a partner. Especially this particular partner. But she did. And because she did, she said nothing else.