The Cowboy

for her resignation. It had been her idea to leave the firm. "All right. Coffee. I'll be finished here in another fifteen minutes or so."
    "I'll wait."
    Twenty minutes later Margaret bid goodbye to the bookstore manager and the last of the readers who had dropped by the store to say hello. Slinging her stylish leather shoulder bag over her arm, she went to join Jack Moorcroft who was waiting patiently at the entrance of the store near the magazine racks.
    He smiled when he saw her and put back the copy of
Forbes
he had been perusing. She studied him objectively as he held the door for her. Moorcroft was five years older than Rafe, which made him forty-three. On the surface he fit her mental image of a hero better than Rafe ever did. For one thing, there wasn't a trace of the cowboy in Moorcroft's attire or his accent. He was pure corporate polish.
    Moorcroft was also a genuinely good-looking man. He kept himself trim by daily workouts at an exclusive health club and he dressed with impeccable finesse. His light brown hair was streaked with silver and thinning a bit, but that only served to give him a distinguished look. His suit was European in cut and the tie was silk.
    By right Moorcroft should have been a living, breathing replica of one of her heroes but Margaret had never once thought of him that way.
    In addition to his beautifully cut suits, Jack Moorcroft also wore a wedding ring. He was married and that fact had made him off-limits from the day she had met him.
    But even if he had not been married Margaret knew deep down she could never have fallen for him the way she had fallen for Rafe. What she couldn't quite explain was why Moorcroft could never have been the man of her dreams.
    "All right, Jack, let's get the cards on the table." Margaret sat down across from her former boss at a small espresso bar table. "We both know you're not in Seattle to rehash old times."
    Jack toyed with the plastic stir stick that had come with his latte. He eyed Margaret thoughtfully for a long moment. "You've changed," he said finally.
    She cocked a brow, amused. "Everyone does."
    "I suppose. You like the writing business?"
    "Love it. But that's not what you're here to talk about, is it?"
    "No." Moorcroft took a sip of the latte and set the cup down on the small table. "My information says Cassidy came to see you this week."
    Margaret shrugged. "Your information is good. He was here Thursday night. What does that matter to you?"
    "He wants revenge, Margaret. You know him as well, if not better than I do. You know he always gets even."
    "He's already had his revenge against me. You were there that morning. You heard him tell me to get out of his life."
    "But now he's back, isn't he?" Jack's mouth twisted. "Because he never got his revenge against me. He kicked you out of his bed but there wasn't much he could do to me."
    Margaret felt her cheeks burn at the blunt reference to her relationship with Rafe. "Why should he want revenge against you? I was the one he thought betrayed him."
    Moorcroft's eyes narrowed. "Ah, but you betrayed him to me, remember?"
    "Damn it, I didn't betray anyone. I was caught in the middle and I did what I had to do."
    "The way he saw it, when the chips were down, I was the one who owned your loyalty. He was right in a way, wasn't he? But he didn't like that one bit, Margaret. I think he saw me as the other man in your life."
    "You were my employer, nothing more. Rafe knew that. Tell me something, Jack, did you really lie to him about us?"
    Moorcroft shrugged apologetically. "Cassidy was out of control that morning. He thought what he wanted to think, which was that you felt loyal to me not only because you worked for me but because we'd been involved in an affair."
    Margaret shook her head in sheer disgust. "You did lie to him."
    "Does it matter if I let him think what he was already thinking? The damage had been done. He'd already thrown you out and he knew he'd lost Spencer to me."
    "So you decided to take advantage of the situation and gloat over your victory."
    Moorcroft smiled cryptically. "I'll admit I couldn't resist the chance to sink the knife in a little deeper. Two years ago Cassidy cost me a bundle when he wrecked a merger I had set up. I owed him."
    "And I just happened to get caught in the middle this time."
    "You probably don't believe this, but I'm sorry about what happened, Margaret."
    "Sure. Look, let's just forget this, all right? I've got better things to do than talk over old