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Her change of subject didn't entirely wipe the worry from Greg's face,
but he answered,
"Well, yes, I thought it might be a good time to go over those papers
I've been talking about, but I see you're ready to go out."
It suddenly occurred to Raine that she was standing in the very spot where she and Macauley had made love last night.
Color suffused her face, and she looked around surrept.i.tiously.
She released a relieved breath when she noted that the clothing they'd left strewn around had been picked up.
Then her eyes lit on her panties on the floor next to the staircase.
Although Greg hadn't seemed to notice, to Raine they seemed a banner
proclaiming last night's lovemaking.
Turning her gaze to Greg, she said with an over bright voice, "Actually, I was planning to go to the beach today. But if we can run
through this quickly, I can spare you half an hour or so. I'll join you in the den."
He looked at her a little oddly, but turned to precede her into the
room.
As soon as his back was to her, she bounded down the rest of the steps
and scooped the telltale sc.r.a.p of material up, shoving it into her beach bag with shaky hands.
Then, casting one more quick glance around for Macauley, she followed
Greg into the den.
"I'm glad we're doing this now,"
he was saying.
"You really can't afford to let this go much longer. Especially with
your new exhibit coming up. You're realizing some nice profits from your paintings, Raine, and since you won't let me talk you into some new deductions..."
"We've been over this, Greg,"
she said dryly as she ~at down on the couch.
"I don't need a second home. Or a boat large enough to house a
family."
"That's what I mean,"
he continued doggedly.
"So I've outlined some other ways that will help defer your tax load.
When your new pieces start selling, we need to have a clear plan for investing that money in a way that will reap the greatest return for you."
He sat next to her and laid his folder on the coffee table in front of them.
Spreading some sheets out in front of him, he explained his suggestions
enthusiastically.
Raine looked up in relief when Mac entered a half hour later.
Turning to Greg, she said firmly, "It sounds great, as usual, Greg.
You're a genius. Now, show me where to sign and you'll be able to get back to work."
"And we'll be able to be on our way to the beach,"
Mac drawled, drawing Greg's attention to him for the first time.
The man's gaze swung to the door, then to Raine, then to Mac again.
"O'Neill."
Greg's voice was confused.
"What are you doing here?"
"He's taking me out for some sun and sand,"
Raine told him.
At Greg's shocked expression, she added wryly, "I really do have a life outside of painting, you know, although it doesn't seem like it sometimes."
Her words seemed to finally filter through Greg's shock.
He looked at her, his puzzlement still obvious.
"What? Oh, I know. I just ... I didn't realize..."
He finally stopped stammering and looked at Mac, consternation written
all over his face.
"I thought you were finished with your work here."
"You did?"
Mac murmured, his eyes intent on the other man.
"I mean... the last time I was here it looked like you were getting
done. Is there still a lot left to do?""Just odds and ends,"Mac replied, smoothly forestalling a reply from Raine."My only job today is to get Raine away from here for a while. She needs a break."
It was obvious that his answer didn't satisfy Greg.
He shot a troubled look at Raine.
"Greg?"
she asked quizzically.
He always became fl.u.s.tered easily, but right now he was acting especially strange.
"May I sign now?"
"Oh, of course."
He hurriedly bent over the papers he'd been explaining t~her.
He indicated a few places, and she signed her name.
Then she smiled at him."Thanks so much for bringing these over today. You were right~ Ineeded to make some financial plans, but I kept putting it off. Luckyfor me you're so dedicated."
Greg seemed reluctant to leave, and Raine walked him to his car.
Mac grabbed the bag she'd packed and the cooler he'd set in the doorway and hauled them out to his truck.
Raine joined him, and a few minutes later they were on their way.
"Greg was acting odd this morning,"
she mentioned, a frown on her face.
Mac looked at her.
"How can you tell the difference?"
"Be nice,"
she scolded him.
"He's a very pleasant young man, and an excellent accountant. He just