“A martini with two olives,” she said as she walked past him. She was too tired for polite conversation.
“Right away.”
Lost in her analysis of Holderfield’s unexpected defiance, she drifted down the hall leading to her master suite. She needed a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow was another day. She would find a way to turn this around.
Shrugging off her jacket, Annette kicked off her shoes, then peeled the camisole from her torso and wiggled out of her narrow skirt.
This day had been far too long without nearly enough accomplished.
She padded to the en suite bath and adjusted the spigots in the tub. As the water flowed and swirled, she freed her hair and let it tumble down her shoulders. She shook it, then massaged her aching scalp. Despite all that had happened, sleep would come easy tonight. She was exhausted.
A tap on the open door drew her attention to Daniel, who had arrived with her drink. Good. Her faithful assistant placed the drink on the rim of the tub.
“Thank you, Daniel.” She was more than ready for the escape. “That’ll be all tonight.”
“Ms. Baxter.”
Annette recognized that tone all too well. Another problem. She sighed. Would this day never end? “Yes?”
“You have a private call.” He pulled the untraceable cell she reserved for personal communications from his jacket pocket.
Her heart bumped her sternum as she accepted the phone. She didn’t have to ask who it would be. She knew. And it would not be good news. “Thank you, Daniel.”
When he left her alone, she pressed the necessary button to take the call off hold. “This is Annette.”
The hospital.
She listened to the doctor’s report, her heart sinking a little more with each word.
“I understand. Thank you.” Annette severed the connection and placed the phone on the counter. She closed her eyes and searched for that calm place that had eluded her for days now.
Nothing scared her ... but this.
Her sister, Paula, had suffered another episode. This one worse than the last. If the outbursts continued, there would be no choice but to isolate her.
The worst possible scenario. Annette remembered all too well the locked rooms ... and that basement. She shuddered. She couldn’t let that happen.
For years her sister had been fine and now, suddenly, everything was spiraling downhill.
Whatever happened, Paula’s well-being was her primary concern.
The problem was ... if everything else fell apart, then Annette couldn’t properly take care of her sister.
Filling her lungs with a deep, bolstering breath, Annette opened her eyes and stared at her reflection. She was strong. She could do this.
She had to do this.
Tomorrow she would accomplish more. She dropped her leopard-print bra on the tiled floor, then shimmied out of her panties. The bruises from her interlude with Carson Tanner lured her attention to her naked body. She touched the one on her hip. A frisson of heat lit deep inside her. Startled her. Ridiculous. Tanner roused her curiosity, nothing more. Sex was never enjoyable for her. Never had been and it was highly unlikely it ever would be. Not with her screwed-up history.
What would Carson Tanner think of his precious manhood if he knew she had faked every single orgasm she had supposedly had in her life? Not even he had managed to bring her to that prized place. He had, however, managed to stir a smattering of interest. Most unexpected.
That wasn’t supposed to have happened.
Watching him exit the grounds of the revered Federal Bureau of Investigation offices today had been a ploy designed to make himwonder, to make him doubt. To trouble that fiercely analytical mind of his. What she’d succeeded in doing was making herself wonder ... how would it feel to have a man like that care about her?
All that shiny integrity. Ambition ... and heart.
Utterly ridiculous. She didn’t need a man. Annette Baxter needed no one. Except her sweet, sweet sister.
