Page 5 of Tristan’s Temptation

He had to get out of here. Now.

He desperately needed to be alone.

Hell, what he really needed was to get laid.

But none of the usual suspects interested him. Not anymore.

The only woman he wanted was Shannon. And she was beyond his reach.

Chapter Two

Tristan checked his watch—for the tenth time—and frowned. It was after nine and she wasn’t here. He tried not to let Shannon’s absence dominate his attention but it was hopeless.

Besides, she was late.

She was never late.

He felt unaccountably like a child promised a treat and then, at the last minute, deprived of it. It was damn annoying. He glared at his computer, at the quarterly report he was pretending to write, and snorted in disgust. Clearly he wasn’t going to get anything substantial done until he discovered where she was.

As always when there was a mystery to solve regarding one of his employees, he went directly to the source of the rumor mill. He found Sara in the lunchroom cussing at the coffeepot.

“Damn.” She flipped the switch several times in rapid succession and glared at the appliance as though it had mortally offended her.

The pot was empty. “No coffee?” he asked ingenuously. Shannon was in charge of the coffee. That was as good an opener as any.

“No. Shannon’s not coming in today. Didn’t I tell you?”

“No.” She hadn’t. Damn it. Damn it all anyway.

She smacked the pot. “Do you know how to work this thing?”

Tristan ignored Sara’s question about the idiotic coffeepot. He shoved his fists into his pockets and frowned. Shannon never missed work. Not ever. He didn’t relish the idea of not seeing her for a whole day. Weekends were bad enough. By Monday he was like an addict with the DTs, finally moving closer to his next score.

“Is she okay?”

Sara fiddled with a knob. Flicked a switch. Punched random buttons in rapid succession.

“Sara? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. It’s Bos. He’s sick. Barfing all over the place.” She tugged out the basket and scowled at the grounds before slapping it back into place with a grunt.

Ah. Bosco. Tristan frowned at the reminder of Shannon’s lover. The douche bag. He was probably a mooching deadbeat partier. “Late night, huh?”

Sara blew out a breath and frowned at the machine. “Yeah. Anyway, she said she can finish editing the quarterlies if someone can bring her laptop.”

Hmm. That sparked his interest. Perhaps he might finagle a way to see her today after all. “Where does she live?” God. She’d been working for him for five years and he had no idea.

“Villa Toscana. Off Ventura Boulevard. In Encino.”

Tristan stilled. His heart thudded in his throat. “Really?” Villa Toscana was the development just down the hill from his place. They lived so close to each other and he’d never even known. “Huh. Well, that’s on the way to my house. I can take it to her.”

“Great.” Sara seemed relieved. She probably had a hot date tonight and didn’t want to waste time wandering all over creation delivering computers to wayward coworkers. Normal people had dates. Or so he’d heard.

He cleared his throat. “If you can get me her address, I can take care of it.”

“Sure thing.” Sara stood back and placed her hands on her hips, woebegone and perhaps a little desperate. Sara needed coffee like koalas needed eucalyptus.

Tristan glanced at the thing and immediately saw the problem. He picked up the cord and stuck it into the outlet. “You might try plugging it in.” He grinned as he sauntered out of the room, his mood suddenly lifting.