The Gideon Affair

Minutes ticked by and the intense stabbing motion continued.

The guy texted like he talked…in one long, never-ending stream of consciousness. Edward chuckled. Mickey Fingers was about to become a new expression in his vocabulary. One he couldn’t wait to share with Paige.

Smoothing his tie for no apparent reason, he fingered the blue silk that Paige insisted complemented his eyes.

Paige. His thoughts, no matter how scrambled they got, always seemed to circle around to her eventually. Maybe he should text her. Let her know they weren’t kidnapped or sold off as sex slaves—something she insisted was a possibility anytime he went off on his own.

A smile lit him up remembering how he’d messed with her one time when they were out of the country on location. Thinking it would be hilariously fu

She’d almost killed him on the spot once he let her off the hook and ended the charade. But absolutely the best part of the memory was how quickly her anger had turned to amusement then eventually to fall down laughing. The girl was one of a kind.

A couple of grunts from Mickey brought Edward back from his mind trip. It didn’t require a surveillance report to clue him in that the day’s weirdness was in no way over.

“I hate cherry pie.”

The peculiar statement immediately earned a footnote in the Out-Of-Left-Field Hall of Fame.

“Say again?” he politely asked.

Stuffing the phone into the pocket of a tailored vest, his agent turned. The expression on his face was unusually sphinxlike.

That can’t be good.

“Cherry pie. Hate the stuff. Tastes like cough medicine.”

“Oookay … duly noted.”

“Gave her the upper hand and now she’s go

Taking a stab in the dark, he asked, “Shirley?”

The agent snorted like a bull and chuckled. “Shit, no! My wife is a goddamn saint.”

Jesus. This was getting out of hand. Typically bombastic and about as verbose as a person could be, navigating through the man’s curious mood was not easy. Who the hell was he talking about and what the fuck with the cherry pie?

“Who are you and what have you done with Mickey Klein?”

The guy huffed and shook his head. “I know, right?”

“Hey,” Edward said with a half a grin, “if it helps any, tapioca pudding makes me gag. Just seeing it. Blech!”

“Yeah, well … we have a meeting with Moira Ke

Edward froze. Ho-ly fuck. Moira Ke

“Here’s what we’re going to do …”

She was wearing a path in the carpet with her relentless back and forth pacing. Not that she cared. The guys had been off the radar for hours and Paige was at the end of her rope, so who cared about a little rug damage at this point?

After hobbling home on her banged up knee yesterday, she’d been less-than-happy to discover that she was being frozen out of whatever had Mickey and Edward by the throat.

They were both nice about it, but some serious shit had to have gone down after her visit to the gym. Without any explanation, both men rather sternly told her to take care of her injury and not to worry—that they had everything under control.

Pfft. Who the hell were they kidding? She knew damn well that Perry Waterman yanking Mickey Klein's chain was a huge deal. She’d worried and fretted all night about the ramifications of the unusual powwow.

Probably explained why she’d tossed and turned all through another restless night. She was worried about Edward. Worried about what the nasty minded media would make of the reignited scandal.

He’d made a lame attempt to cajole her out of worrying when he’d called her right before the late-night shows came on. Halfway through a pint of Chunky Monkey when the phone rang, Paige had gone on a roll. She’d demanded he keep her in the loop while he made light of the secret meeting on the next day’s agenda and cracked jokes about her clumsy crash and burn off a moving treadmill.

A monumental hissy fit had been gathering steam inside her when he changed the subject and threw her a curveball.

“Missed you today.”

“Yeah, well …” she spit out. “That’s what you get for keeping your assistant in the dark.”

She heard his sigh and stopped.

“I wasn’t referring to my assistant.”

The rest of the conversation didn’t matter. Not really. Not after his quiet admission that he’d missed her. Her. Not the employee.

Which would then totally explain the very sexy dream that had chased her throughout the restless night.

Eek. Just thinking about it …

She shivered slightly then rubbed her hands briskly up and down each arm.

Glancing at her reflection in the big mirror at the far end of the long conference room, she almost laughed. All that naughty talk about being tied up and naked for his pleasure had made Paige permanently horny.

Not even a steamy shower or the painful shock of the water hitting the rather nasty gash on her knee managed to cool her jets. Needing to be the unflappable professional she was under ordinary circumstances when she went to the closet to choose an outfit, her i

Her choice was a silky t-shirt style blouse tucked into a cute skater skirt that looked business-like without seeming stuffy. She ran her fingers on the cool silver balls of the Tiffany necklace Edward had given her then gently tugged on the matching earrings.

She swept her hair into a tidy chignon and slid on a pair of yummy shoes that were just short of being hooker heels to complete the look.

A noise in the reception area had her ru

Edward and Mickey were standing just outside the elevator in deep conversation.

Oh, thank god. Back in one piece. Well, at least there was that.

People were milling about in the office bullpen. From the corner of her eye, Paige saw Mickey’s curious junior assistants looking back and forth between her door peeking, the hot movie star, and the crazy Russian agent.

Quietly muttering, “Enough of this,” she straightened and strode confidently across the reception area, stepping right into the middle of the men’s conversation. “Gentlemen,” she stated in a no-nonsense tone. “Let’s take this to the conference room, shall we?”

Putting her hands up, Paige gestured for them to move along as if she was herding puppies. She ignored the surprised expressions and the faint gasps that wafted through the air at her blatant ‘handling’ of the super-agent and his number one client. Clearly, not something that happened every day.

Mickey’s deep laugh cut through her tension. “Tell me again why you don’t work for me.”

“Because I won’t put up with your bullshit, Mr. Klein. That’s why.”

Edward chuckled as he slipped off his suit jacket to the evident delight of an admiring audience of females and quite a few guys, too.

“It’d take a duel to the death to get her away from me,” he mocked. “That and the fact that you’re too damn tightfisted to afford her.”

Good grief. Their audience was enjoying this too much. Careful not to roll her eyes, she tugged on Mickey’s arm and whispered, “Ovaries are bursting and panties melting as we linger. Could you pleeez move it along?”

Both men simultaneously looked at her. It was like being in the bright lights of an interrogation coming at her from all sides. An odd feeling snaked through her system. Worry and a warning bell invaded her mind.