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“What the blazes do you want now?” Dexter's angry voice drew her attention. “Cara, isn't it a practice in this office to buzz for callers?”
Laura watched as he continued to sit there, obviously enjoying his position far too much to bother getting up.
“Excuse me.” She at last found her voice, surprised at the controlled tone it held. “It's obviously a bad time. I'll come back another day.”
Dexter watched as she turned leisurely on her heel and left his office. It piqued him she had not been effected by what she walked in on. He wasn't sure why, but he definitely felt she should have appeared at least angry or upset, not this apologetic, uncaring woman.
True, she really didn't have anything to feel jealous over; she simply walked in at a bad moment. Bridget was always showing her affection in this lurid manner, and if he had any heart he would actually enjoy her unwanted attention. At the least, his male urges should have shown a spark of interest; after all she was a very beautiful, very desirable woman who was more than just willing. But, as always, she left him feeling cold and disgruntled.
He found himself in the process of brushing her legs away, as he would have done moments before Laura made her unexpected appearance, and got to his feet. Damn the woman, when she walked in he felt a spurt of haughtiness that at last this was what it would take to get her out of his life, and for good. However, the only thing that came out of her mouth, was a promise of returning. Now he had to go, stop her, and reinforce what she walked into, really was what it wasn't. Lord, he confused himself!
Ignoring Bridget's cry of abandonment he rushed out of his office in pursuit of Laura. He found her just as she was in the act of boarding the elevator. With a determined gesture he reached out and intervened the doors closing with his arm. She turned around startled, and that was when he felt a blow directly to the pit of his stomach.
The color had returned with a vengeance to her pale skin, her beautiful green eyes sparkled like emeralds from the pool of tears flooding them. That uncharacteristic, far from needed emotion of wanting to comfort, had him regretting his decision to come after her.
Gathering up his dispassionate attitude, he said impassively, “I thought I told you not to come back here.”
She swiped angrily at a tear. “No, that's not what you said.”
His brows dipped toward his nose. “Pardon?”
The elevator door bucked against his hand. “Would you kindly release the door so I may continue downstairs?”
He gestured past himself with a sweep of his hand, indicating for her to exit the elevator before him.
“I'm not coming back out.” Stubbornly, she remained where she was.
He scowled at her before boarding the elevator and allowing the door to glide shut behind him. “Happy?”
It was sarcastically snapped but Laura felt far from it. She couldn't remember feeling this miserable since—no, she absolutely refused to give Dexter the receiving end of an emotion equal to the death of her father. He most definitely did not deserve it.
With a purposeful sigh, she reminded herself what Dexter O'Reilly was good at. “You said not to come back to your office unless I had some real business to deal with.”
His look turned interested. “All right, what have you got?”
“Money.” It was blandly stated, the way she felt. The smugness, the gloating she had been looking so forward to, found no place in her heart.
He looked at her, waiting for her to continue and when she didn't he persisted, “Exactly how much? I can't imagine you raising much money from—”
Sticking her hand into her handbag she withdrew a wad of cash and checks, secured tightly in an elastic band. “This isn't all of it. I kept some back to pay prior bills, but I'd like to invest most of this.”
He let out a small whistle as he retrieved the bundle and began to flip through it with his thumb. “Now you're beginning to make some sense.”
She watched as he reached out and pressed the button to the tenth floor, a feeling of gloom shadowed her heart. The only time he wanted anything to do with her came with a price.
“They were charity donations. Tax right offs. Is that what you meant when you said I wasn't thinking big enough?”
“Basically. The type of clientele you should be looking for, wouldn't be showing up in a bingo hall.”
“But they did.” She pointed out, the beginning of pride slipping in.
He glanced down at her and their eyes locked before he turned away muttering, “You were lucky this time.”
“Why didn't you just tell me this in the first place?”
“I've told you from the beginning, I think your shelter is a business disaster and you should close down.”
“So you hoped I would fail.”
