Page 114 of Paper Horses

“What should I tell him?”

“Does he have a name? Should I know who he is, or am I reading minds now?” It was still satisfying to be nasty sometimes. I’d bring him coffee in the morning to make up for it. Geez, who had I turned into?

“He won’t give it to me. Says it’s important though.”

I rubbed my temple, thinking of the handsy guy from the charity event. The one I’d made the mistake of breaking my rule of not dipping in that pool and hooked up with seven months ago. He’d shown up in the lobby two days later looking to take me out to dinner. I’d had him removed that day, and at last night’s event, I informed him he needed to remove his hand from my hip before I sued him for everything he was worth. He seemed the stalker type, and if he was down there, thinking I’d reconsidered, he would pay.

“Tell him to go away.”

“Yes, Miss Icinda.”

I disconnected and turned to my laptop, going through my plans once more. The number of days I’d have to travel, what kinds of meetings I could run remotely, if the Wi-Fi at Hudson’s was strong enough. Gabe’s offer snuck into my thoughts, derailing me just as the phone rang again.

“Bruce, please tell me you had the balls to remove the guy from the lobby.”

“He’s insistent. Says it’ll be worth your time to see him.”

“I’m not letting some stranger up to my office. Grow a pair and do your job.”

Concentrating now was going to be a problem. It already was with Hudson occupying my every thought. There was no way to leave the office early, though. Not with that man still in the lobby. He’d corner me, and it would get ugly when I pulled the power play and ensured his company didn’t see a profit for the next ten years.

The phone rang again, Bruce’s name flashing, and I lost my calm. I stood and stormed out of the office, ready to fire him and put the stalker in his place. My heels slashed the marble floor with aggravated thumps that continued as I tapped my foot on the elevator ride down.

I stalked to the desk, saying, “I’m not sure why we pay you so much, Bruce, when I have to do your job for you. Where is the creep?”

He pointed behind me, and I turned, my hand flying to the counter to stabilize myself when Hudson’s narrowed eyes met mine.

“I was expecting a reaction, but creep is a little extreme,” he said, sight unwavering.

My throat contracted as I tried to find my breath. “Hudson, I…” Words scattered because seeing him left my brain a mangled mess. He looked so different, handsome and sexy, but without the usual ruggedness. He wore a suit under a long wool coat, the black bringing out the golden hues of his hair. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Another man?” Creases formed around his eyes, hurt slashing them.

“Some creep who hit on me last night and has a habit of showing up uninvited.”

There was a tick in his jaw as his expression went rigid. “Can we talk?”

I nodded.

“After you apologize for treating Bruce so poorly.” He crossed his arms, his muscles pushing against his sleeves.

I squared my jaw, staring back at him. All the plans I’d had, the thought of surprising him at the ranch, of being calm and collected, showing him I was ready to let my walls down, slipped away.

“This is the way I am.” A weak attempt to defend myself, and one he questioned with the raise of his brow. It had been an excuse that harkened back to before I’d gone to Montana and found there was more to me. I turned to Bruce. “Thank you for doing such a good job. I appreciate it, and coffee is on me tomorrow.”

He stared at me as if I’d grown another head. This nice thing was going to take time.

“Um, okay. Thank you, Miss Icinda.”

I turned and waved Hudson toward the elevators, nerves clawing at me. He looked just as nervous, something he never was. We stood in front of the elevator, a strange, awkward silence between us, but as soon as the door shut, he let out a throaty, “Good girl.”

My eyes flew to his, my hand shaking as I held my keycard up. He reached over and took it, guiding it up as I pressed the button for our floor. He stepped up to me, pinning me to the elevator wall, and my knees went weak.

“Did you find yourself?” he asked, a desperation in his voice that reminded me of the day I’d left him.

“Did you get my journal?”

“Yes, but you didn’t answer my question.”