A Lyon's Share by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online Page B

once paid any attention to me as more than your secretary."
    Brandt's knee was hooked over the corner of her desk as he half sat and half stood against it, his hands folded complacently on his thigh.
    "You have only yourself to blame for that. The "No Trespassing" signs were so boldly displayed and your manner was so briskly efficient and businesslike that I couldn't guess that you wanted to be treated as a woman. Besides," a latent harshness crept into his strong features, "I've always lived by the rule that business should never become mixed with pleasure. I don't want my personal life to be intertwined with my work."
    The precise clearly spoken statement sent prickles up her spine. Joan no longer doubted that he was sincere. Brandt Lyon did consider her attractive. At the same time, he made it clear that her looks made no difference. He would never want her as more than his secretary. And she had to accede to the advisability of his stand. If a man-woman relationship had developed between them and later burned itself out her position in his office would have become untenable for both of them.
    She averted her gaze from the determined line of his jaw. "I agree with you completely." Her mouth moved stiffly in resistance to the words she uttered.
    A heavy sigh of exasperation sounded behind her and she faintly caught a whispering, "Do you?" that was mockingly derisive. Pushing aside her long hair, Joan glanced over her shoulder, a bewildered frown knitting creases in her forehead. His back was turned to her as he tilted the chair back, then completely turned it upside down.
    "Do you have any all-purpose oil here?" he asked.
    The detached voice forced Joan to conclude she had only imagined the previous question, a trick of her imagination that was so susceptible to Brandt's masculinity.
    "In the middle desk drawer," she answered.
    While Brandt worked at oiling the squeaky springs of the swivel chair, Joan began sorting through the file cabinet, removing the inactive folders and placing them on a nearby straight chair. Only one part of her mind was devoted to the task. The rest was trying to draw comfort from the discovery that Brandt thought she was attractive.
    Her preoccupation made her less thorough in her actions. She barely noticed that the top drawer didn't close tightly when she pushed it forward to go through the second drawer. Her mouth twitched in amusement as she found a folder misfiled. It was one she had given Brandt the other day and he had replaced it in the wrong drawer. Removing it from its incorrect place, she reached down for the third drawer of the four-drawer cabinet.
    The instant her fingers released the catch on the drawer handle and began to pull it open, the unlatched top drawer began sliding forward. A protesting groan sounded as the combined weight of the three drawers was exerted on the metal cabinet. That was the only warning Joan received before it tilted forward. Her hands reached out uselessly to try to check its fall, succeeding for a second to keep it at an angle.
    Then strong arms were lending their power to hers, righting the cabinet and pushing the drawers back into place. The after-shock of realizing how very near she had come to having the cabinet fall on top of her sent shudders of fright through her now trembling limbs. Her knees felt incredibly weak and incapable of supporting her. Then those same strong hands that had saved her were gripping her shoulders.
    "Are you all right, Joan?" There was a frown of sincere concern in the face bending towards her.
    A trembling hand brushed her brow. "Yes," she answered shakily, "I think so." His shirt button blurred in front of her eyes as she unconsciously swayed closer to him. "It … It all happened so quickly!"
    "Why did you try to stop it?" There was a hint of anger in Brandt's husky voice. "You should have let it fall and worried about cleaning up the mess afterwards rather than risk injuring yourself!"
    "I didn't think," Joan answered with