“Probably, except my breasts are slightly too big.”

“Gee, Ronnie will hate that,” Trish said drily. “Wear it.”

“I really want to knock his socks off.”

“Trust me,” Trish said, chuckling. “He’ll never know what hit him.”

The floor creaked.

Trish jolted and whipped around. “Mr. Duke.”

He stood several feet away by his office door. “I need the Mansfield file.”

She hung up the phone. Deb would understand. Then she stood, wishing the floor could swallow her up. She couldn’t believe he’d caught her on the phone. “It’s on your desk, Mr. Duke.”

He looked as if he were about to say something, but then he just nodded. “Good. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Trish stood rigidly, hating that she was ready to jump at his smallest command.

But he said nothing. Instead, he stared at her, then strode slowly around her area, glancing with suspicion at her desk, the files, the window. His presence was intimidating and chilling, so why did she feel as if she were burning up?

Finally, he met her gaze again. “What have you done?”

Taken aback, she said, “I-I didn’t do anything.”

He shook his head. “No, it looks different. You moved stuff around.”

Trish relaxed her shoulders slightly and exhaled. “I didn’t think you’d mind. I rearranged a few things on the desk and I moved that plant. It was blocking the view.”

He raised an imperious eyebrow. “Cheryl never had time to notice the view.”

“That’s a shame,” she said, glancing at the window. “It’s gorgeous.”

He stared at her intently. “Yes, it is.”

Trish felt her cheeks heat up. “You don’t have to worry that I’ll spend all my time staring out at the ocean, Mr. Duke. I’m here to work.”

“Good to know.” He seemed reluctant to leave. Did he not trust her to do her work despite the tempting view of the world outside her window?