Ulterior Motives by Laura Leone Page A

carrying on an animated conversation nearby. Shelley had already demonstrated the extent of her German vocabulary, so she had no idea what they were saying. Ross’ German was obviously fluent, and she wondered where he had learned it. She had the impression that that was what Ute was asking him.
    “Yes, I’ve examined the contents of the boxes. According to the English on the cover, they’re definitely Mandarin and not Cantonese,” Shelley told the distressed director in Portland. “Well, I’ll send these back to distribution. You’d better give them a call and explain the problem. No, I don’t know why these things always happen to you.”
    Shelley hung up the phone with a rueful smile. However bad her day was, it sounded as if the director in Portland was having a worse one. Shelley shook her head. She really liked this job, but she hated the bureaucracy involved in such a big organization.
    Once off the phone, Shelley caught Ross’ eye. They’d better get this conversation under way before something else happened. He tore himself away from an enamored Ute, evidently saying he had enjoyed chatting with her, and followed Shelley into her office.
    Shelley sat at her desk and put the faxed report about Ross Tanner behind her, out of view. She had intended to be all business, but curiosity got ahold of her.
    “Where did you learn to speak German so well?” she asked.
    “I worked in the Elite school in Munich early in my career.”
    “What other languages do you speak?”
    “French and Arabic. The French doesn’t really count, though. I was raised bilingual. My mother’s French. I spent a lot of my childhood over there.”
    “I see.” That would probably explain his educated, carefully neutral accent, particularly if he spent most of that time in France among friends and relatives who didn’t speak English.
    “You look lovely today,” he said in a more personal tone of voice.
    “You look quite... well, you know... you always do.”
    “Thank you, I think,” he said dryly.
    Shelley cleared her throat. She suddenly had a vivid mental image picture of the two of them locked in each other’s arms on Saturday morning. She couldn’t have something like that happening here in her office.
    “I thought you said you came here to discuss business,” she reminded him.
    “Actually, I did. I just find you so distracting.”
    “Sublimate,” she suggested.
    “Very well.”
    Ross tilted his head to one side and studied her for a moment. An aura of feminine sexuality surrounded her, even in a business setting. She could certainly use it to her advantage, as Charles had intimated, yet it seemed to be quite unconscious and natural. Charles had suggested—no, specifically stated—that Shelley used all her attributes in an unprofessional way to ensure her professional success. Since that was a type of competition that Charles obviously wouldn’t enter into, it could explain Shelley’s remarkable success this past year and exonerate Charles.
    If it were true, Ross wouldn’t have to fire Charles and thus throw a middle-aged man out of work. Yet the thought of Shelley behaving as Charles claimed disturbed him more than he cared to acknowledge. Now, looking at this small woman with her ivory skin, her tumbling copper hair, and her candid gray eyes, he felt stronger, more compelling needs stir inside him. And so he wanted her to convince him it wasn’t true.
    He felt caught in the middle, confused and uncertain. This was all the more disturbing because it was unfamiliar and uncharacteristic. In the past he had been headstrong, rebellious, selfish, and careless, but never indecisive. Could he be losing his touch? He frowned, willing himself to take charge of the situation, to use that combination of ruthlessness and charm that had always been his strength.
    Shelley watched Ross curiously for a moment, aware he was fighting some sort of an internal battle. She wasn’t vain enough to assume he was having that much