Jonas rubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t see that this conversation will get us anywhere.’’
Stephanie couldn’t either. She was tired, Jonas was unreasonable and in pain. The best thing she could do now was to leave the conversation for a more appropriate time. “Good night, Jonas.” She didn’t wait for his acknowledgement before she headed for her room.
“Good night, Stephanie.”
It wasn’t until she had changed into her cotton pajamas that Stephanie realized that for the first time since meeting Jonas Lockwood, he’d used her first name. No longer was she a robot who responded to his clipped demands. Somehow, in some way, she had become a woman with flesh and blood. The realization was enough to send her spirits soaring. Hugging the extra pillow beside her, Stephanie held it to her breast and drifted into a sound sleep, content with her world.
“Good morning,” Adam greeted her early the following morning. From the looks of the table, Jonas and Adam had been at it for hours.
“Morning.” Stephanie walked across the room and poured steaming coffee into the dainty cup, then held it to her mouth with both hands.
“I trust you slept well, Miss Coulter,” Jonas inserted next.
So they were back to that. “Thank you, Mr. Lockwood, I slept very well.”
Jonas glanced up momentarily, and Stephanie recognized the glint of amusement in his eyes. A brief smile moved across his mouth.
“Would you like a croissant?” Adam asked, preparing to lift the flaky pastry onto a china plate with a pair of metal tongs.
“No, thanks.” Actually, she might have liked one, but feared a simple thing like accepting a breakfast roll would encourage Adam. She hadn’t noticed it the day before, but the eagerness glinting in his gaze revealed the truth of Jonas’s statement. Adam Holmes was interested in her. After she was done with her coffee, she’d eat something.
As it turned out, Stephanie barely had time to down the coffee before Jonas stood. “We have a lot of ground to cover today.”
He limped to the door without his cane. Stephanie noticed that he preferred not to use it, and did so only when absolutely necessary. His leg had kept him up last night and would soon be aching again without the cane.
“In that case,” she said, “you’ll want your cane.”
Jonas expelled his breath. “Miss Coulter, I require a secretary-translator, not a mother.’’
“Your leg was bothering you yesterday.” She knew she was on dangerously thin ice. Not once had she mentioned his limp. “I see no reason to aggravate it further.”
He didn’t answer her, but Stephanie noted triumphantly that he reached for his cane before they left the suite.
What followed was a day Stephanie was not likely to forget. The first meeting that morning was a marathon exchange of proposals and counterproposals. They adjourned briefly for lunch, and were at it again before she had the opportunity to take more than a bite or two of her salad.
The afternoon was just as bizarre. No sooner had she finished translating one statement than Jonas gave her another. He was tense, although he didn’t show it. Much of the conversation went completely over her head, but in the weeks since meeting Jonas, Stephanie had gained valuable insight into her employer. For the meeting, he almost seemed to wear a bronze mask that revealed none of his feelings or emotions. This was business, just as most of his life was business, with little room for fun and games. If Stephanie had accepted what she saw on the surface, Jonas would have frozen her out completely. But she’d seen a rare glimpse of the man inside, and she’d been intrigued.
The afternoon session was both complicated and challenging. Stephanie noted that Jonas was cool to the point of being aloof, as though what they were discussing was of little consequence to him. Like a gambler, he placed his money on the line for the pleasure of tossing the dice. He enjoyed the thrill, the excitement, and had poured his whole life into it.
During the long afternoon session, Adam Holmes drifted in and out of the room, returning with one document and then another.
It was early evening when the meeting came to an end. Jonas and his French counterpart stood and shook hands.
“We’re breaking until morning,” Jonas informed Adam outside the conference-room door. “Did you locate that paper on the export tax I asked about earlier?”
“I have them with me,” Adam responded, tapping the side of his briefcase.
“I’ll want to look them over tonight.’’
For her part, Stephanie was exhausted and hungry. After no breakfast, she’d barely had time to touch her lunch and her stomach protested strenuously.