Confessions of the World's Oldest Shotgun Bride by Gail Hart Page B

like underwear models. No doubt the flowers had already fired up the rumor mill; a Steve sighting would send it into overdrive.
    “You weren’t kidding when you said you had a great vacation,” Janelle continued, nakedly curious.
    Kathryn tried to look as if the flowers were no big deal, which was difficult, since just the thought of Steve made her nipples pucker and her heart race as if it might pound out of her chest. “It’s not like that. He’s an old family friend.”
    “Riiight.”
    Kathryn rested one hand on her hip and jutted her chin out. “What?”
    “A friend who sends you about a gazillion roses?”
    Kathryn scowled. “Don’t you have something to do? If not, I must be paying you too much.”
    “Message received.” Her assistant smiled and left, pulling the door closed behind her.
    Kathryn held a flower to her nose, closed her eyes, and breathed in deeply. The roses were lovely, and there were so many of them. The florist’s bill must have taken quite a dent out of a Second Lieutenant’s paycheck. Apparently Steve had meant business when he said he wouldn’t let her go without a fight.
    Returning to her desk, Kathryn tried to turn her attention to other paperwork, but she couldn’t concentrate. She kept getting distracted by the fragrance of the flowers. And to be honest, by thoughts of the flower-sender. She imagined him coming up behind her and kissing her neck, his breath warm in her ear as he whispered words of comfort, his powerful hands massaging the knots out of her shoulders, then sliding lower...
    Oh for God’s sake, what was wrong with her? She was acting like a teenager, letting her hormones take over her brain. Steve had that effect on her. She’d played with fire when she seduced him, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d get burned.
    * * *
    Six thirty. Only a few stragglers seemed to be left in Kathryn’s building, judging by the mere trickle of people coming out of the elevators as Steve arrived. Going against the flow, he let the elevator deposit him a few feet from Kathryn’s outer office, where to his surprise, a young blonde still sat behind the desk. Must be Kathryn’s personal assistant. It couldn’t hurt to get on her good side. He gave her his most brilliant smile. “Is Kathryn in?”
    She blushed under the heat of his smile and stared at him with unabashed curiosity. “Su... sure. Are you Steve?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” So Kathryn had told her to expect him. That was a good sign.
    Continuing to stare at him, the woman pressed the intercom button. “You have a visitor, Ms. St. John,” then a pause, then “No, it’s the flower guy.” After another pause, she turned her attention back to him. “Let me show you in.”
    They entered Kathryn’s office, and he nearly shivered. The place was cold with a capital C. All metal and glass, very little color, and no clutter. The white leather sofa looked so stiff and uncomfortable, he couldn’t imagine making love on it. Even to Katie.
    Kathryn herself, dressed in a forest green wool business suit and white silk blouse, looked just as cool. So businesslike, so calm, so unaffected by his presence. She rose from her desk chair and looked at her assistant. “You can go now, Janelle. I’ll see you in the morning.”
    “Good night, Ms. St. John. Have a nice evening.” Janelle smirked and left, closing the door behind her.
    In the awkward moment that followed Janelle’s departure, Steve noticed a framed poster on the near wall. He did a double take. “Wonder Woman?”
    Kathryn blushed. He was grateful for this small sign that she was human. “It was a gift. My team gave it to me after we made the final delivery on the Madison project, the contract from hell.”
    He looked from the poster to her and back. “You do look a little like Lynda Carter. You’d look great in that outfit. Or out of it. We should get you one. Think of the games we could play.”
    She ignored his comment and fixed him with a direct stare. “The