The Dakota Man by Joan Hohl Read Free Book Online Page B

down on the caffeine, either.” Other than to further irritate nerves already jangling like discordant bells.
    “Have a cup,” Karla invited as she headed for the door to the inner office. “And a pastry.” A wave of her hand indicated a selection of Danish pastries and sweet rolls arrayed on a tray next to the coffeemaker.
    Mouth watering, stomach rumbling, Maggie was perusing the goodies on the tray when she heard Karla tap on the door and speak to “the boss.”
    Mitch knew the minute Karla and Maggie entered the outer office. He knew because he had planned it that way, by leaving his own office door open a crack.
    Karla and Maggie were chatting. Mitch caught Karla say something about the first day being the hardest. The statement was certainly true in his case: it was his first day with Maggie in the office, and he was already getting hard.
    Damn fool, Mitch cursed himself, disgusted with his body’s immediate response to the muted sound of her voice, the mere idea of her presence. It had been years, long years, since his body had broken free of his mental control.
    Sitting still, Mitch blanked out the chatter from the other room and drew slow, deep breaths, exerting his considerable willpower over his physical reaction. It required a lot of deep breaths, but he won the battle.
    And not a moment too soon, for he had just returned his attention to the printout sheet on his desk when Karla tapped against his door and pushed it open another inch.
    “Ready for coffee, Mitch?” she asked.
    “Yes, Karla. Thank you.”
    Mitch was beginning to absorb the data on the sheet when Karla entered the room. He raised his head to smile and again thank her, only it wasn’t Karla, it was Maggie crossing to his desk, a steaming cup in her hand.
    “Good morning,” he greeted her, slightly amazed by the cool, even tenor of his voice, considering the zing of intense awareness that shot through him.
    This morning, Maggie definitely had dressed to impress; at least, her appearance impressedhim. Her glorious mass of red hair had been tamed, smoothed back, away from her face. Her pin-striped navy suit was businesslike and smart, the jacket tailored, the skirt not too short, not too long. Beneath it she wore… What? All Mitch could see in the open vee of her buttoned jacket was skin, pale skin, as soft and creamy-looking as her face.
    He was nearly undone by the sight of her.
    “Good morning.” She smiled.
    Mitch had to fight against the urge to jump from his chair, leap over the desk, take her in his arms and claim her smile with his mouth.
    Craziness. Pure craziness.
    “Where do you want this?”
    “Wherever.” Coming to his senses, he motioned for her to set the cup anywhere on the desktop.
    Maggie bent to set the cup near to hand and Mitch caught a brief glimpse of the shadowed valley between her breasts revealed by the slight gap in the jacket lapels.
    Moisture rushed to his mouth. Heat pooled in his loins. Mitch told himself he was in big trouble.
    “Will there be anything else, sir?” Her voice was too cool, too composed. It rankled him.
    “Mitch,” he said with firm determination, wanting to hear his name from her lips.
    She blinked…with patently contrived surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
    Sure you do, Mitch thought, feeling that exciting sense of challenge surge through him.
    “I prefer working on a first-name basis… Maggie.”
    “But… I… I just started today,” she said, as if that said it all.
    Mitch cocked an eyebrow. “Your name will change tomorrow, or the next day, or next week?”
    “Of course not.” Her gorgeous green eyes glittered, shot fiery sparks at him.
    Mitch loved it. “Neither will mine,” he pointed out in tones designed to add fuel to her fire. “You’ll still be Maggie. I’ll still be Mitch.”
    She narrowed her eyes. He fought an impulsive bark of laughter. Oh, yeah, they were going to clash, and he was going to enjoy every minute of it.
    “If you insist… Mitch,” she said