“Emily, that ship has sailed.”
“Oh, baloney,” Emily snapped.
“Baloney?”
Emily waved a hand. “Nothing has sailed
anywhere until we—”
“When,” Derian said comfortably, popping a
piece of carrot muffin into her mouth. “When we make love.”
“Are you always so damn sure…never mind, I
know you are.” Emily blew out a breath. “But things have changed at the agency.
You’re there now, you’re in charge. You’re my boss.”
“Oh, baloney.” Derian tamped down a wave of
irritation. She couldn’t discount Emily’s feelings, as ridiculous as she found
that whole argument. If it was important to Emily, it had to be important to
her. “First of all, I’m not your boss. I’m Henrietta’s temporary stand-in, and
you are more my
boss than the other way around. Everyone knows it.”
“Derian, you’ve been at the agency half a
week. You catch on quickly. And even if you were an utter failure, you’re still
Derian Winfield, Henrietta’s niece, and you are very much everyone’s boss.”
“Is that how you think of me?”
Emily sighed. “I’m trying to.”
“What’s stopping you?”
“You. You confuse me. I have trouble thinking
clearly when I think about you.”
Derian grinned that self-satisfied grin.
“Good.” She glanced at her watch. “I guess we should probably get going if
we’re going to make those appointments.”
“The problem isn’t going to go away,” Emily
said, taking her tea with her as she rose. “I’ll be ready in just a few
minutes.”
“The problem isn’t a problem unless we make
it one,” Derian called after her. “Do you think you could wear the slippers?”
Emily muttered something under her breath
Derian couldn’t catch, but the intention was clear. Derian laughed. She’d never
met a woman who could make her laugh as easily as she could make her insane
with desire. Emily was unique. She wouldn’t let a tangle of government red tape
or her father’s ego threaten Emily’s happiness, especially not when she could
do something to solve the problem.