Dylan did a double take. "You stood up for me?"
"In no uncertain terms. I told them they were blind if they didn't see how much you cared about Carson, and that no size inheritance would motivate you to harm him. I told it like it is. Then again, I usually do." She saw the astonishment on Dylan's face and smiled faintly. "You're surprised."
"Not about your telling it like it is. About your defending me? You bet I am. At the time, you didn't even like me. And you sure as hell didn't trust me."
"I didn't trust you not to manipulate me into helping Carson," she corrected. "I never doubted your feelings for him. As for liking you..." She shot him a teasing look. "You kind of grew on me."
His gaze darkened a bit. "Did I?"
"Um-hum."
"That's nice to hear. So's the fact that you defended me. Thanks."
"No problem."
There it was again. That overwhelming sexual magnetism that kept pulling at them. It was almost impossible to ignore.
Sabrina didn't try to ignore it. But she did have to nip it in the bud. It was definitely the wrong time, wrong place.
She accomplished her goal by glancing around the room in a long, exaggerated motion. "It just occurs to me that we're alone. I seem to recall your saying we shouldn't tempt fate that way. Maybe it's time to head down to the conference room." She placed her coffee mug on the table.
"Point taken." Dylan's crooked smile was back again, and he, too, set down his mug. "But before we go to the conference room, why don't I show you your new office. Don't worry," he added, half-teasing, half-serious. "Your office is closer to Carson's than it is to mine. That means there are at least a dozen walls and a long corridor separating us."
He rose, waiting while she followed suit. "As for the walk down there, you're safe on that score, too. It's a quarter to nine. The office will be bustling by now. So there's no fear I'll give in to my libido."
Biting back a grin, Sabrina picked up her briefcase and headed for the door. "I can't tell you how relieved that makes me."
"I thought you'd feel that way." He reached past her to open the door, and they both ignored the sparks their proximity ignited. "Let's get moving," Dylan said without meeting her gaze. "Stan should be here by the time you've given your new office a quick once-over." He paused, then abruptly seized her forearm and brought her wrist to his nose. "By the way," he said huskily. "You don't need it."
CHAPTER 18
9:20 A.M.
Mt. Sinai Hospital
Gloria purposely chose this time to arrive.
She entered the hospital through the rear entrance, wearing dark sunglasses and a hat—just in case any fashion reporters were around. Perfume and fashion were frequently linked, so it wouldn't be too much of a reach to think that someone covering Carson Brooks's shooting might also recognize her. And that was the last thing she wanted, at least until any formal announcements were made.
She took the elevator up to ICU, then made her way down the corridor to the nurses' station. She approached the desk tentatively, wondering if she'd be turned away, hoping this idea hadn't been a huge mistake.
"Yes?" a
stout, efficient-looking RN inquired.
Gloria removed her sunglasses and hat, and smiled. "Good morning. My name is Gloria Radcliffe. I'm here to see Carson Brooks. I know he's weak, so I'll only stay a few minutes."
The nurse looked at her as if she'd announced the world was square. "I'm sorry, but visitation is highly restrictive. Do you have Mr. Brooks's doctor's permission?"
"No, but I'd be happy to get it. It's Dr. Radison, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Is he available? I'll only take a moment of his time."
The nurse was still eyeing her as if she were an escaped lunatic. "He's scheduled for surgery at nine-thirty."
"Perfect." Gloria gave her a bright smile. "Then he can poke his head out for just a minute. Please, this is personal—and very important. All I ask is that you tell Dr. Radison I'm here. If he refuses to see me or to let me visit with Mr. Brooks, I'll leave."