A Matter of Trust by Radclyffe Read Free Book Online Page B

was not in the drive. She also realized for the first time how much she did not want to lie down next to him and wondered why she hadn’t felt it sooner. They had been estranged emotionally for years.
    Sloan came around the front of the car and opened the passenger door. “I was planning on spending some time in your offices tomorrow,” she said as Michael stepped out. “Can you notify security in the morning and let them know to expect me—just in case the guy on the day shift is a little more cautious than the one tonight?”
    “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll be there working. Just tell him to call up for verification when you come in if there’s any question.”
    Ignoring the slight surge of pleasure that the thought of seeing Michael in the morning provoked, Sloan simply nodded. “Good night, then, Ms. Lassiter,” she said, her deep voice oddly husky. She resisted the strong urge to brush her fingers across Michael’s cheek.
    Michael hesitated for a moment, leaning forward almost imperceptibly, drawn by the quiet intensity of Sloan’s tone. Finally, she simply smiled and walked away.
    Sloan climbed back into her car, but she did not drive off until the massive front door had closed firmly, eclipsing Michael Lassiter’s figure. Even then, the memory of that parting smile lingered in her mind.

Chapter Four

    At 9:00 the next morning, Sloan walked down the brightly lit, cavernous central corridor of Michael’s high-tech corporate complex. Small warrens of offices, conference rooms, and lounges branched off the main hallway at irregular intervals. The passage terminated on the east side of the building, with Michael’s corner suite occupying a large part of that section. A woman stood behind a large horseshoe-shaped reception desk sorting through a deep file cabinet, her back to Sloan.
    “Excuse me,” Sloan called, assuming that this was Michael’s secretary. “Ms. Lassiter is expecting me.”
    The woman turned and uttered a small startled cry, her eyes wide. A faint blush stole across her attractive features. “Oh my God. Sloan. What are you doing here?”
    “Hello, Angela,” Sloan replied calmly, hiding her astonishment with a cool expression. “I’m working.” Hopefully that explanation would suffice. She wasn’t certain exactly how much Michael had confided with members of her staff about her plans to restructure the company, and she didn’t want to go into detail. “I didn’t realize that you work here.”
    “Considering that I haven’t talked to you in almost two and a half years, how would you know?” A slightly bitter smile tugged at Angela’s lips. “Of course, you were never particularly interested in the details of my life, even before. As I recall, your interests were somewhat more limited.”
    Sloan thought she probably deserved that jibe, considering that she had rather abruptly ended her liaison with Angela Striker. They had dated a few times after meeting at a local political event. Angela, however, demanded a degree of exclusivity from her romantic partners that Sloan found impossible to provide. At the time, she’d thought the better part of valor was to end the relationship quickly before both of them regretted it.
    Nevertheless, she said nothing now. She’d learned over the years that attempting to defend her actions where bruised egos and dashed dreams were concerned was futile. It was simply easier to let others believe that she didn’t care.
    “So, is she ready for me?” She indicated the closed door behind Angela.
    “I don’t know. Let me check with her and see.” Angela knew she probably looked as irritated as she sounded. Nothing had changed. Sloan always was good at deflecting anything personal by using work as an excuse.
    A minute later, Sloan strode once again across the wide expanse of luxurious office space toward Michael, who was looking casual that morning in beige slacks and a cashmere V-neck pullover of darker rust. Sloan tried hard to