Mind Over Matter: the classic story from the queen of romance that you won’t be able to put down

“Oh, I’m so sorry to bother you at work, dear.”

“That’s all right. I’m in a meeting, so—”

“Oh, yes, I know.” Clarissa’s calm, apologetic voice came quietly in her ear. “With that nice David Brady.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t hit it off the first time.” Clarissa sighed and stroked her cat. “I’ve been giving that contract business a great deal of thought.” She didn’t mention the dream, knowing her agent wouldn’t want to hear it. “I’ve decided I want to sign it right away. Now, now, I know what you’re going to say,” she continued before A.J. could say a word. “You’re the agent—you handle the business. You do whatever you think best about clauses and such, but I want to do this program.”

A.J. recognized the tone. Clarissa had a feeling. There was never any arguing with Clarissa’s feelings. “We need to talk about this.”

“Of course, dear, all you like. You and David iron out the details. You’re so good at that. I’ll leave all the terms up to you, but I will sign the contract.”

With David sitting across from her, A.J. couldn’t take the satisfaction of accepting defeat by kicking her desk. “All right. But I think you should know I have feelings of my own.”

“Of course you do. Come to dinner tonight.”

She nearly smiled. Clarissa loved to feed you to smooth things over. Pity she was such a dreadful cook. “I can’t. I have a dinner appointment.”

“Tomorrow.”

“All right. I’ll see you then.”

After hanging up, A.J. took a deep breath and faced David again. “I’m sorry for the interruption.”

“No problem.”

“As there’s nothing specific in the contract regarding the Van Camp case, including that in the program would be strictly up to Miss DeBasse.”

“Of course. I’ve already spoken to her about it.” A.J. very calmly, very deliberately bit her tongue. “I see. There’s also nothing specific about Miss DeBasse’s position in the documentary. That will have to be altered.”

“I’m sure we can work that out.” So she was going to sign, David mused, and listened to a few other minor changes A.J. requested. Before the phone rang, she’d been ready to pitch him out. He’d seen it in her eyes. He held back a smile as they negotiated another minor point. He was no clairvoyant, but he would bet his grant that Clarissa DeBasse had been on the other end of that phone. A.J. Fields had been caught right in the middle. Best place for agents, he thought, and settled back.

“We’ll redraft the contract and have it to you tomorrow.”

Everybody’s in a hurry, she thought, and settled back herself. “Then I’m sure we can do business, Mr. Brady, if we can settle one more point.”

“Which is?”

“Miss DeBasse’s fee.” A.J. flipped back the contract and adjusted the oversize glasses she wore for reading. “I’m afraid this is much less than Miss DeBasse is accustomed to accepting. We’ll need another twenty percent.”

David lifted a brow. He’d been expecting something along these lines, but he’d expected it sooner. Obviously A.J. Fields hadn’t become one of the top in her profession by doing the expected. “You understand we’re working in public television. Our budget can’t compete with network. As producer, I can offer another five percent, but twenty is out of reach.”

“And five is inadequate.” A.J. slipped off her glasses and dangled them by an earpiece. Her eyes seemed larger, richer, without them. “I understand public television, Mr. Brady, and I understand your grant.” She gave him a charming smile. “Fifteen percent.”

Typical agent, he thought, not so much annoyed as fatalistic. She wanted ten, and ten was precisely what his budget would allow. Still, there was a game to be played. “Miss DeBasse is already being paid more than anyone else on contract.”

“You’re willing to do that because she’ll be your biggest draw. I also understand ratings.”

“Seven.”

“Twelve.”

“Ten.”

“Done.” A.J. rose. Normally the deal would have left her fully satisfied. Because her temper wasn’t completely under control it was difficult to appreciate the fact that she’d gotten exactly what she’d intended to get. “I’ll look for the revised contracts.”

“I’ll send them by messenger tomorrow afternoon. That phone call…” He paused as he rose. “You wouldn’t be dealing with me without it, would you?”

She studied him a moment and cursed him for being sharp, intelligent and intuitive. All the things she needed for her client. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Be sure to thank Clarissa for me.” With a smile smug enough to bring her temper back to boil he offered his hand.

“Goodbye, Mr….” When their hands met this time, her voice died. Feelings ran into her with the impact of a slap, leaving her weak and breathless. Apprehension, desire, fury and delight rolled through her at the touch of flesh to flesh. She had only a moment to berate herself for allowing temper to open the door.

“Ms. Fields?” She was staring at him, through him, as though he were an apparition just risen from the floorboards. In his, her hand was limp and icy. Automatically David took her arm. If he’d ever seen a woman about to faint, he was seeing one now. “You’d better sit down.”

“What?” Though shaken, A.J. willed herself back. “No, no, I’m fine. I’m sorry, I must have been thinking of something else.” But as she spoke, she broke all contact with him and stepped back. “Too much coffee, too little sleep.” And stay away from me, she said desperately to herself as she leaned back on the desk. Just stay away. “I’m glad we could do business, Mr. Brady. I’ll pass everything along to my client.”

Her color was back, her eyes were clear. Still David hesitated. A moment before she’d looked fragile enough to crumble in his hands. “Sit down.”

“I beg your—”

“Damn it, sit.” He took her by the elbow and nudged her into a chair. “Your hands are shaking.” Before she could do anything about it, he was kneeling in front of her. “I’d advise canceling that dinner appointment and getting a good night’s sleep.”

She curled her hands together on her lap to keep him from touching her again. “There’s no reason for you to be concerned.”

“I generally take a personal interest when a woman all but faints at my feet.”

The sarcastic tone settled the flutters in her stomach. “Oh, I’m sure you do.” But then he took her face in his hand and had her jerking. “Stop that.”

Her skin was as soft as it looked, but he would keep that thought for later. “Purely a clinical touch, Ms. Fields. You’re not my type.”

Her eyes chilled. “Where do I give thanks?”

He wondered why the cool outrage in her eyes made him want to laugh. To laugh, and to taste her. “Very good,” he murmured, and straightened. “Lay off the coffee,” he advised, and left her alone before he did something ridiculous.

And alone, A.J. brought her knees up to her chest and pressed her face to them. What was she going to do now? she demanded as she tried to squeeze herself into a ball. What in God’s name was she going to do?

2

A.J. seriously considered stopping for a hamburger before going on to dinner at Clarissa’s. She didn’t have the heart for it. Besides, if she was hungry enough she would be able to make a decent showing out of actually eating whatever Clarissa prepared.

With the sunroof open, she sat back and tried to enjoy the forty-minute drive from her office to the suburbs. Beside her was a slim leather portfolio that held the contracts David Brady’s office had delivered, as promised. Since the changes she’d requested had been made, she couldn’t grumble. There was absolutely no substantial reason for her to object to the deal, or to her client working with Brady. All she had was a feeling. She’d been working on that since the previous afternoon.

It had been overwork, she told herself. She hadn’t felt anything but a quick, momentary dizziness because she’d stood so fast. She hadn’t felt anything for or about David Brady.

But she had. A.J. cursed herself for the next ten miles before she brought herself under control.