Page 18 of Desperate Temptations

“Owens, but call me Cain.”

“Mr. Owens can get some answers.”

He could tell she was still leery of him, but he liked how much the secretary worried about her.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Do I look that bad?” She held up a hand that shook with fatigue and nerves. “Don’t answer that. I’m fine. I promise. I just need a good night’s sleep.”

Leona grumbled, crossing her arms over her ample chest.

“We’ll see about that, young lady. You have the weekend to rest up, but if you come in on Monday like this, expect to get harassed by me.”

Jessa’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open.

“What? You thought we wouldn’t notice you don’t look well, or that we wouldn’t care? We have always cared, so get used to the idea, Ms. Walker.”

Jessa was embarrassed, a light blush tinting her cheeks. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now the jury is still out on this young man, but if he can get you healthy and happy again, I’ll let him be.”

Cain’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his lips turning up at the corners.

“Thank you, Leona.”

She threw a frown his way and turned her attention back to Jessa.

“You need to get her out of here.” She looked at Jessa. “Have a good weekend, and I’ll see you Monday. I’m heading out now,” she said and waved a hand over her shoulder.

“Night, Leona,” they both replied.

After she left, they turned to each other. Her eyes held nervousness, while he knew his eyes held a sheen of purpose. Cain stood, grasped her hands, and pulled her up.

“Grab your stuff, Baby, and let’s head out of here.”

Jessa started to put papers in her briefcase and picked up her purse. A thought occurred to her, and she turned to look at him.

“Why are you here, Cain? Do you have any new information?” she asked hopefully.

Cain grabbed her briefcase with one hand and put his other on the small of her back, gently maneuvering her out of the office.

“Let’s get you home, and then we’ll talk. What are your plans for dinner?”

She felt sluggish, uncoordinated.

“I haven’t thought about it. I’m not really hungry.”

His concern for her was growing.

“Do you have food at home so I can make dinner for us?”

Wide-eyed, she stumbled, her heart skipped at the thought of this man in her house again. Cooking for her?

“What? Can you just tell me here? Right now?”

His jaw bunched as he kept her moving. “No, I want to talk in private, but first I need to take care of you.”

She tried to stop, digging her heels into the carpet, panic rioting through her at the thought of being alone with this man.

“No, wait. Just tell me here. You don’t need to come home with me. I can take care of myself...”

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