Jenny was thinking how absolutely adorable he was, but her mind snapped back to the problem at hand. "Yes. How am I going to tell your parents?"
"Don't give them a choice." He stuck out his hand. "Is that it? Do we have a deal?"
"Deal." She gave him her hand, but instead of shaking it, he drew it up and placed it on his chest.
"A handshake is no way to finalize a deal with a gorgeous woman."
Before she could react, he bent his head down and slanted his mouth over hers. The hand now pressing hers to his chest went to her waist, where it settled lightly. His thumb gently stroked her lowest rib.
The kiss was long. His lips were open over hers, but he didn't use his tongue. He only kept her held in breathless suspension, teasing her with the possibility that at any moment he might send it delving into her mouth. But he didn't. And when he raised his head, he merely smiled.
Later, after he had deposited her back at the grocery store and she had finished her shopping, she wondered why she hadn't done something, anything, to stop the kiss. Why hadn't she slapped his face, or stamped her foot, or even laughed? Why, when he finally lifted his mouth off hers, had she just gazed up at him with limpid eyes and throbbing dewy lips, a pounding pulse, and melting thighs?
The only answer she could provide was that her limbs had felt leaden, deliciously so. And weak with pleasure. She couldn't have raised a finger to protect herself from Cage's kiss if she had wanted to. And she really hadn't wanted to.
The Hendrens didn't take the news of her job too well. Sarah dropped her fork on her dinner plate when Jenny made her announcement. "I start Monday."
"You're going to work—"
"For Cage?" Bob finished for his wife.
"Yes. If you have any projects for me to do before then, let me know."
She left the kitchen before their dumbfoundedness wore off. As Cage had advised her to do, she hadn't given them a choice in the matter.
* * *
One minute before nine o'clock the following Monday morning, Jenny entered the office. The door had been left unlocked. For a moment, she thought she had gone in the wrong door. The office hadn't only been cleaned, it had been transformed.
The gunmetal-gray walls were now painted a soothing cream. The hideous sofa had been replaced by two leather armchairs in a rich shade of chocolate brown. A walnut table was tucked between them.
The linoleum tile floor had been covered with parquet wood. An area rug of ethnic origin took up the center of the floor. Where the metal shelves had been, there was now a wall of wood shelves and cabinets. All the components had been tastefully arranged to maximize space so that everything was stacked neatly.
The surface of the desk now dominating the room was as glistening as an ice rink. Behind it was a leather chair of thronelike proportions. On the desk's shiny top was a bouquet of fresh flowers, still beaded with moisture from the florist's refrigerator.
"The flowers are for you."
Jenny spun around to see Cage standing just inside the closet. The door was open. "How did you do it?" she asked, aghast.
"With my checkbook," he said wryly. "That works better than magic wands these days. Do you like it?"
"Yes, but…" Jenny was suddenly contrite. "I shouldn't have criticized. You've gone to tremendous expense."
"Hey, don't go soft on me. You spurred me on to do something I should have done years ago. I've been entertaining clients at the drugstore's soda fountain because I was ashamed of this 'trash heap,' as someone we all know and love called it." He grinned when her cheeks flushed. "By the way, I have a selection of calendars for you to choose from."
He held up the first one and she gasped softly. "Buns of the Month," Cage said solemnly, trying hard not to smile. The muscular model, posed lying on his stomach, was wearing a jock strap, a football helmet, and a wicked grin. "This is Mr. October. Football season, you understand. Would you like to see the other months?" he asked guilelessly, thumbing through the calendar.
"That will be sufficient," Jenny said hoarsely. "What else do you have?"
Cage set that calendar aside and picked up another. "A Hunk a Day. No heads, just bodies." An oiled chest, bulging biceps, and a washboard stomach graced the picture he held up. Jenny made a squeamish face and shook her head. "Or," Cage said, spreading open the third choice, "Ansel Adams."
"Hang the Ansel Adams." Cage looked pleased and turned to do her bidding. "But leave the others in the closet," Jenny added mischievously. He gave her his most crestfallen expression, then they both burst out laughing.
"Cage, the office is beautiful, really. I love it."
"Good. I want you to be comfortable here."
"Thank you for the flowers," she said, moving behind the desk and tentatively sitting down in the leather chair.