But when Rafe gave her the details she was less than enthused. “We don’t do religious organizations,” she said drily. “You know that, Rafe. That could get us in trouble even though we might mean well. We don’t want to get tied to any religious group. You know that could backfire.”
“So okay, they’re a religious group. So what? They’re just like any of the other charities we support.”
“No, they’re not.” Sarah’s tone was adamant. “You give to one religious group then we get branded as Catholic, Baptist or some other thing we’re not. I don’t want to go there.”
But Rafe wasn’t taking no for an answer. In the end the buck would stop right at his feet and he was prepared to deal with the repercussions if and when they ever came. “So donate to ten different religious organizations then. That way we can’t be tied to any particular one. That’s part of what I hired you for, isn’t it? Diversity. Now go make it work.”
Sarah gave an audible groan. “This could come back to bite you, Rafe. But if you insist…”
“I insist,” he replied. “I feel strongly about this one, Sarah. They're making a difference in their community. We can help them do that. Now get cracking.”
She sighed. “All right.”
“And Sarah?”
“Yes, sir?” When she addressed him like that Rafe knew it meant she was not happy. Too bad. He was not about to change his mind because of her misgivings.
“Make sure it’s anonymous.”
“Of course, sir.” She grated out the last word.
Rafe didn’t give a hoot. When he clicked the phone off he was smiling. His mood had moved up ten notches in the space of ten minutes. Even though he’d never carried himself like a man with money now it felt darned good to be rich. He’d been able to work a well-needed miracle with one simple phone call. And, like he’d always known, the best remedy for a blue mood was to do something good for someone else. It felt good to do good.
And maybe it was because he was in a better mood, but where the thought of Anya’s rejection had depressed him now he was looking at things from a whole new perspective. So she hadn’t welcomed him with open arms. That was understandable. She must have been in shock at the sight of him.
And, just thinking about things, he now knew what he should do. He would back off and give Anya her space. For the rest of the week he would make no attempt to get her to meet with him. Give her time to get used to the idea that he was around – that was the best thing to do.
After all, he was going to be in Germany a whole three months. That was lots of time for him to work his way back onto her good side.
Because, if he knew anything about women, the one thing guaranteed to get them interested in you was to act like you weren’t noticing them at all.
CHAPTER NINE
Rafe Kent was back in Germany and Anya was scared out of her wits. Not only was he a womanizer but the last time they’d met he’d raised his hand in anger, a sign that below the surface he must have a violent temper. No matter how attracted she was to him he was not the kind of man she wanted in her life. Not now. Not ever.
After what she’d seen Helga go through she would be a fool to get involved with a man like that. And that was why it was so important for her to stay the heck out of his way.
Under the circumstances it would be a challenging task. After all, they were now co-workers. There was no way she could avoid him but what she could do was make sure he’d never catch her by herself. That way he’d never get the chance to make a move on her.
As Anya stripped and stepped into the shower she heaved a sigh. Why couldn’t things be simple and clear cut? If Rafe had an evil streak why couldn’t he look evil or at least not look so awfully delicious he made your mouth water?
After the shock of seeing Rafe Anya felt so emotionally drained she decided to make it an early night. It was just a little after eight when she crawled into bed then reached over and switched off the lamp. With the room bathed in darkness she breathed a soft sigh and sank into the pillows. She had no idea when sleep finally claimed her.
Anya’s body was soon lost in slumber. Her mind, though, could not have been busier. She was dreaming and the subject of her dream was tall and mysterious, his face hidden in shadows. But even as he was shrouded in darkness there was an aura about this mystery man, one that drew her with the pull of an all-powerful magnet. He was dangerous. She could feel it. The nearer she got the faster her heart raced but, try as she might, there was nothing she could do to resist him. She could not get away.
It was when she got close that she saw his eyes, the color of a fiery blaze, translucent and shimmering with the flickering light of a thousand flames. Like he was welcoming her home, he held out his arms and as he did she was enveloped in his warmth. Powerless to deny him she stepped forward, eager to fall into his embrace.
But as she took the first step she was jerked off her feet. The earth pounded beneath, shuddering and shaking, making her pitch forward and fall to the ground. Even as she clung to the ground, digging her fingers into the dirt, the pounding began again, louder this time, jarring her brain with the violent vibrations of a jackhammer.
“Uh, what?” Anya jerked awake and her eyes flew open but all she could see was darkness. She sucked in her breath, still shaking from the shock of her nightmare, her pajama top damp and clinging to her skin. Slowly, she exhaled.
“It’s only a dream,” she muttered. “Only a dream.” Then she drew in another deep breath, trying to steady her nerves.
Where had that nightmare come from? She hadn’t had one of those in years. This whole Rafe thing, with him showing up out of the blue, was having a serious effect on her. What was she going to do?
Anya threw back the covers. She was feeling too hot, too sticky to lie down and she badly needed a glass of water.
But just as her toes touched the floor the silence of the night was shattered by a horrendous hammering. Someone was downstairs pounding on her back door.
Eyes wide, Anya’s gaze flew to the digital clock on the nightstand. Three forty-three. Who could be at her door at this hour?
Her heart jerked in fright. It could only mean one thing. There must be a fire!
Heart pounding, she jumped off the bed and ran to the door then she flipped on the hallway light and flew down the stairs. She was dashing down the hallway toward the back door when she skidded to a halt. She’d thought there was a fire but where was the smoke? The hallway light partially illuminated the path to the kitchen but there was no sign of smoke and it didn’t smell like anything was burning. Could she have been mistaken?