Circle Of Gold

He said a word that caused Kasie’s face to grow bright red. That disturbed him, but he didn’t allude to it. “I’ve made modifications to improve what seemed like a deficiency in diet. Now it looks as if it wasn’t even necessary. How long will it take you to get the breeding herd information transcribed?”

“Well, I’ve done about a third of it,” she said. “But John has letters and information to be compiled for this new show…”

“You’re mine until we get this information on the computer. I’ll make it all right with John.”

“What about Pauline?” she asked worriedly.

“Pauline is my concern, not yours,” he told her.

“Okay, boss. Whatever you say.”

He made an odd gesture with one shoulder and gave her a long scrutiny. “I told you to let me know if there was too much work. Why didn’t you?”

“I thought I could keep up,” she said simply. “I wouldn’t have complained as long as I could do it within a couple of weeks, and I can.”

“Working fourteen-hour shifts,” he chided.

“Well, work is work,” she said. “I don’t mind. It’s not as if I have an active social life or an earthshaking novel to write or anything. And I get paid a duke’s ransom as it is.”

He frowned. “Why don’t you have a social life?”

“Because cowboys stink,” she shot right back.

He started to speak, burst out laughing and walked to the door. “Stop that and go to bed. I’ll have you some help by morning. Good night, Kasie.”

“Good night, Mr. Callister.”

He hesitated, turned, studied her, but he didn’t speak. He left her tidying up and went upstairs to change out of his work clothes and have a shower.

The next morning, when she went into the office, Pauline was there and so was Gil. They stopped talking when Kasie walked in, so she assumed that they’d been talking about her. Apparently it hadn’t been in a friendly way. Pauline’s delicate features were drawn in anger and Gil’s eyes were narrow and glittery.

“It’s about time you got down here!” Pauline said icily.

“It’s eight twenty-five,” Kasie said, taken aback. “I’m not supposed to be in here until eight-thirty.”

“Well, let’s get started, then,” Pauline said, flopping down at the computer.

“Doing what, exactly?” Kasie asked, disconcerted.

“Teach her how to put information on the computer,” Gil said in a voice that didn’t invite argument. “And while she’s doing that, you can tackle John’s work.”

Kasie grimaced. Her pupil didn’t look eager or willing. It was going to be a long morning.

It was, too. Pauline made the job twice as tedious, questioning every keystroke twice and grumbling—when Gil was out of the office—about having to work with Kasie.

“Look, this wasn’t my idea,” Kasie assured her. “I could do it myself if Mr. Callister would just let me.”

Pauline didn’t soften an inch. “You’re trying to get his attention, playing up to those kids,” she accused. “You want him.”

Kasie just looked at her. “I love children,” she said quietly. “But I don’t want to get married.”

“Who said anything about marriage?” Pauline chided.

Kasie averted her eyes. “I needed a job and John needed a secretary,” she murmured as she turned a spreadsheet page.

“Funny. You call him John, but Gil is ‘Mr. Callister.’ Why?”

The younger woman blinked. “John is just a few years older than I am,” she replied.

Pauline frowned. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

There was a long pause. “Well!” she said finally. She pursed her lips and entered a number into the computer. “You think Gil is old, do you?”

“Yes.” She didn’t, really, but it seemed safer to say so. She did, after all, have to work with this perfumed barracuda for the immediate future.

Pauline actually smiled. But only for a minute. “What do I do now?” she asked when she finished entering the last number.

Kasie showed her, faintly disturbed by that smile. Oh, well, she’d figure it out later, maybe.

Pauline went home at five o’clock. By now, she had a good idea of how to use the computer. Practice would hone her skills. Kasie wondered why Gil, who had the lion’s share of the work, only had a part-time secretary.

When he came back in, late Saturday night, dressed in evening clothes with a black tie and white ruffled shirt, Kasie was still in the office finalizing the spreadsheets. She looked up, surprised at how handsome he was dressed like that. Even if he wasn’t really good-looking, he had a natural authority and grace of carriage that made him stand out. Not to mention a physique that many a Hollywood actor would have coveted.

“I thought I told you to give up this night work,” he said curtly.

She spared him a glance while she saved the information onto a diskette. “You won’t let me play with the girls. I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Watch television. We have all the latest movies on pay-per-view. You can watch any you like. Read a book. Take up knitting. Learn Dutch. But,” he added with unnatural resentment, “stay out of the office after supper.”

“Is that an order?” she asked.

“It damned well is!”

He was absolutely bristling, she thought, frowning as she searched his pale blue eyes. She closed the files and shut down the program, uneasy because he was glowering at her.

She got up, neat and businesslike in her beige pantsuit, with her chestnut hair nicely braided and hanging down her back.

But when she went around the desk to go to the door, he blocked her path. She wasn’t used to men this close and she backed up a step, which only made things worse. He was so tall that she wished she were wearing high heels. The top of her head barely came up to his nose.

His pale eyes glittered even more. “Old age isn’t contagious,” he said with pure venom in his deep voice.

“Sir?”

“And don’t call me sir!”

She swallowed. He was spoiling for a fight. She couldn’t bear the thought of one. Her early life had been in the middle of a violent battleground, and loud noises and voices still upset her. “Okay,” she agreed immediately.