“That’s Ada Lovelace,” she said.
“Ah, the pioneering computer programmer,” he said. “I knew I’d seen her before.”
“You know about her?” Alice sounded astonished.
“Just that she’s credited with creating the first computer program and was one of the very few well-known female mathematicians of her time.”
Alice unbent enough to give a little nod. “She was the daughter of Lord Byron. Her mother had Ada educated in math to counteract what she saw as Byron’s poetic madness.”
“She thought numbers would cure insanity?”
“She believed math encouraged rational, orderly thinking. Don’t you agree with her?”
Alice stood with her hands on her hips. She wore black trousers and a white blouse, but the bland clothing could not hide the rather sumptuous curves of her figure. Another surprise.
She continued to look at him with one eyebrow raised and a challenge in her eyes.
“Of course I agree with her,” Derek said, irritated by his wandering mind. “I work with numbers all the time.” Numbers were how he’d justified his career choice to his father. Numbers were what he had immersed himself in when his fiancée broke off their engagement. Numbers defined his life. He pushed aside the odd introspection her question had evoked. “In fact, let’s take a look at the ones we’re having an issue with.”
“Would you like some tea or coffee before we start?” Alice asked.
“No, thanks. I polished off a large coffee in the car.” While he wrestled with Argon’s vastly larger numbers.
She headed up the polished oak stairs and he followed, enjoying the way the wool of her trousers pulled taut over her nicely rounded bottom as she climbed.
He frowned. It was not professional to picture black lace bikini panties under the fabric. He needed to get to those numbers to keep his mind orderly and rational, like Ada Lovelace’s.
When they reached the top of the flight of stairs, Alice led him into a light-filled room fitted with sleek cream-colored office furniture as well as two high-end ergonomic chairs. He’d expected something much less modern and sophisticated because he’d made more incorrect assumptions based on her name, her location, and the fact that she worked for small businesses. This was why he and his partners needed the SBI: to keep them grounded.
He glanced around the room, thinking he wouldn’t mind working there himself. Neat stacks of papers were spread out on the work surfaces. Those included a couple of card tables, the only jarring notes in the well-laid-out space. She swept her hand around the office. “Each one of these is a different client’s paperwork from the month when the discrepancy occurred. Where do you want to begin? First or last in?”
“First.”
She shifted a laptop from her desk to a card table and then rolled one of the chairs up as well. “Here you go. Sparkle, a special-occasion clothing boutique. A discrepancy of $2.59 six months ago.”
“Are your clients concerned about these shortfalls?”
A guilty look crossed her face. “Not really, no. In fact, most of them couldn’t care less.” Her voice became passionate. “Look, I know it isn’t a lot of money, but the deficits shouldn’t be there. Numbers don’t lie. At least, they never have before.”
“I was just curious.” The crazy thing was that he understood her obsession with making the numbers add up all too well. “Will you walk me through it?” he asked, wheeling the other chair over and holding it for her.
Rather than sitting down, she looked surprised. “Sure, but that’s just going over the same erroneous path I took. Don’t you want to come at it fresh? I thought that was your preference.” There was a slight edge to her last words.
“I’m hoping the problem will manifest itself as you go through the records,” he said. “Remember, I’ve already looked at the computer files without your input and found nothing. So did a colleague of mine.” Both of them had been baffled and shocked by their inability to pinpoint the issue. He winced inwardly at his unconscious arrogance.
A fleeting look of approval crossed her face before she perched on the chair. “Okay, here we go,” she said, pushing a stack of papers in front of him.
Her movement sent a waft of scent to tickle his nostrils. It was something floral and old-fashioned, like her name, but he couldn’t place it. Asking her wouldn’t be any more professional than admiring her behind, so he inhaled deeply to draw it into his lungs and imprint it on his sensory memory.
“My first reaction was that someone had forgotten to record a withdrawal from petty cash,” she said. “However, the petty cash in the drawer matched the balance on the accounting system so that couldn’t be it.”
Derek pulled his attention away from the graceful movements of her ringless hands with their short, neat nails and focused on the numbers as she talked through her methodology. Her explanation was clear and logical. He could find no fault with anything she had done, which was unfortunate since she had to have made an error somewhere.
After twenty minutes of working beside Alice, he forgot that she was a small-town bookkeeper. Instead he treated her just like he would one of the senior associates at KRG Consulting, listening to her suggestions with respect and offering his own ideas without dumbing them down. He found himself exhilarated by the give-and-take with a mind that could keep up with his own.
That exhilaration did not explain why when she flicked her ponytail over her shoulder so the mass of chocolate-colored waves flowed down her back, he had an almost overwhelming urge to comb his fingers through it. That would be even less appropriate than asking her what kind of perfume she was wearing. Or speculating about the color of her panties.
As she and Derek worked through the numbers for Sparkle, Alice could almost forget how good-looking he was. But the yearning hollowed out her chest when he turned his head to ask her a question and she could see how his dark lashes contrasted with the silver gray of his eyes. A slash of sunlight glinted off the slight scruff of blond whiskers on his chin and cheeks. She imagined that soft roughness pressed against her skin.
She needed to fight down her reaction to his beauty and focus on the work. But even that didn’t help because his mind was as sexy as the rest of him. He didn’t treat her like a second-class citizen as they analyzed the books. His questions were incisively phrased and his ideas were complex. She had the heady feeling that he thought she was his equal, which was clearly ridiculous.
But the worst was when she handed him a pile of papers and their fingers brushed, the tiny friction sending sparks racing over her skin. From then on she was careful not to make contact, even though she longed to feel that delicious response again.
“That’s it for Sparkle,” Derek said, flipping the last page of the report over. “No explanation for the discrepancy.” He rubbed his forehead, bringing her attention back to the glorious thickness of his golden-brown hair.
“Ready for Work It Out?” She madly shifted papers to yank her unruly thoughts away from the shining waves that tempted her to touch.
As Derek opened the first report for the gym, Alice’s phone played its old-fashioned tinkling tune.
“Interesting ringtone,” Derek said as Alice rolled her chair over to the credenza where she’d left her phone. The caller ID was Natalie’s and Alice remembered her friend’s determination to make sure Derek wasn’t going to attack her in her home office. The irony was that she was more likely to attack him.