He looked up from his place on the couch at the sound of the door opening. No longer in his work clothes, he was no less appealing. A t-shirt stretched across his chest, reminding me all too well what he looked like without one. The sweat pants that had replaced his slacks hung low on his hips as he stood, anxiously watching me from my position at his bedroom door.
Gesturing to his left, it took me a moment to peel my gaze from evidence of his semi-aroused state to see what he was pointing at. When I did, I noticed my clothes folded neatly on the coffee table. He ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to surprise you or interrupt. So, I just folded them and set them here.” His bare feet shuffled against the carpet. “Not that you have to put them on right now. God, you look amazing wearing my bathrobe.”
He flinched, as though he worried he shouldn’t have said that and was afraid I’d be upset. Honestly, I was too off balance to even react.
“I can get you something to sleep in, if you want. If you want to stay, I’ll have Claudette’s send something over in the morning. Or, if you want to leave, you can get dressed and I’ll drive you back to your car.” Dropping his head, he muttered, “Marie is going to kill me.”
“What?” I couldn’t help asking. “Why would she ever know about this?”
Mr. Gabriel flinched. “Trust me, she’ll figure it out. She knows me too well and just about threatened to beat me bloody if I screwed up your job situation. I told her I wouldn’t, but I’m afraid…”
I clutched at the front of my robe. His robe. “You don’t want to work with me anymore?” I sucked in a short, terrified breath. “Are you firing me?”
His head snapped up to spear me with his gaze. “What? No. Of course not, Reagan. Is that really the type of person you think I am?” He shook his head, seeming somewhat angered by the insinuation. “I just meant I’ve screwed things up and made things awkward for you. I acted like an asshole tonight and I don’t know how we’re going to get through work tomorrow. I can’t stop thinking about how goddamn amazing you felt tonight, and you probably want to avoid me as much as possible.”
“I don’t want to…avoid you,” I said. “I just…you seemed so upset earlier.”
“Not at you,” he said, taking several steps toward me. “At myself. I’ve wanted you so long, but fucking you against the wall of my kitchen isn’t how this should have happened. You deserve better than that.”
I laughed. It bubbled out before I could stop myself. Mr. Gabriel paused, seeming uncertain. Seeing my feelings from a few minutes ago transferred to him gave me a shot of boldness. I spoke before it wore off. “Do you really think being taken like that by a man you’ve been fantasizing about for a year, because he wants you so badly he simply can’t wait, is somehow less erotic than a romantic dinner and rose petals?” I laughed again, when his eyebrows rose at my frankness. “That,” I said, gesturing toward the kitchen, “was exactly what I’ve wanted since I started working for you. Please, don’t feel guilty about giving it to me.”
He blinked several times without speaking. Slowly, a smile crept back onto his delicious lips. “What else do you fantasize about?” he asked.
Chuckling, I shook my head.
“What?” he asked. “You get to have these insanely sexy moments where you say and do things I never expected, but I don’t get to ask what you’ve been picturing when you think of us together?” He moved closer, slowly like a predator. “You’ve never shown me any hint of your sexual inclinations before tonight. Before those pictures Brandon sent. You surprise me and amaze me, and I want to know what’s going on inside your head right now.”
My body responding to his approach, desire fizzled the majority of my boldness. What little remained, I held onto tightly. “Maybe I’m just not the kind of girl who likes to kiss and tell, even when it’s all fantasy.”
“It’s not fantasy anymore,” he growled. His hand slid over my side and onto my back. I gasped at the contact, fighting against the arousal his touch caused.
“I don’t…know what this is yet,” I said honestly.
His brows knitted together, but he didn’t step away. “What do you want it to be?”
Pure, molten lust shot threw me as he shifted and his erection brushed against my thigh. Scared by the intensity of my reaction and his desire, I said, “I don’t know. Everyone will think…”
“No one will think anything,” he practically barked. His fingers pressed into the small of my back, almost painfully. Feeling me tense, he forced himself to speak. “Marie already knows about my interest in you, and she had no problem with me pursing you if you were interested, so long as it didn’t affect our work relationship. Nobody else matters.”
Pulling back, I pressed my hand against his chest to keep the space between us open. “Other people matter to me. I have to work with them more closely than you. I’ll be the one hearing whispers from around the corner or getting these knowing looks and sideways glances. Sleeping with you won’t make me quit. Being the butt of all the office jokes will be.”
“You won’t be,” he insisted.
I shook my head and pulled out of his arms. “You can’t promise me that.”
He startled me by closing the distance between us in a flash and yanking me against his chest. “Would you like to bet me on that?”
“What?” I asked, breathing hard, surprised by his forcefulness and his words. “Bet you on what? What are you talking about?”
“I’ll take care of it. No one will talk about you behind your back, or assume our relationship has anything to do with your career.”
I tried to loosen his grip, step back so I could think, but he held me firmly. “For one, relationship?” I asked. “Right now, all we have is one night of mind-blowing sex.”
“I don’t intend it to be the last,” he growled, grinning at me.
Rolling my eyes, I said, “Regardless, you’re jumping way ahead of yourself.” He tried to say something else, but I held up a finger to stop him. “Secondly, there is no way you can control what other people say or think. Your bet is ridiculous.”
He shrugged. “Says you. I know I can deliver.”
Realizing I wasn’t going to win that argument, I went back to my original problem. “I don’t want anyone else to know about this.”
He was shaking his head before I finished the sentence. “There is no fucking way I can keep you a secret. If you want to walk away, I’ll respect that decision. I will never bring this up again, and even though it would kill me, we’d go back to how things were a few days ago. I value you too much as a person and an employee to fuck that up.” He leaned in and kissed me hard before continuing. “But, if you want to live out your fantasies with me, it won’t be in secret. I’d never be able to keep how much I want you hidden while you’re bringing me to my knees every night. I don’t want to break a promise to you, so it’s either out in the open, or not at all.”
Heat, passion, desire all reflected in his eyes, but so did conviction. He didn’t want a mistress, a secret fuck buddy he could ignore unless he wanted his needs met. On one level, that amazed me and left me shaky. On another, it terrified me.
“What would you have done if I hadn’t been on the pill?” I asked, the words bursting from my lips before I could think twice and talk myself out of the question.
He seemed confused, but said, “What would I have done?” He shook his head. “Nothing, I guess. We would have just had to wait and see, I suppose.”
“Wait and see?”
Now he really didn’t seem to understand what I was getting at. “Yeah, I mean, it’s not like you can find out that soon, right? Either it would end up being nothing to worry about, or it wouldn’t.”
“And then?”
He shrugged. “And then we’d talk about what to do next.”
“You wouldn’t have been angry? Blamed me?”
Running his palm across my cheek, he said, “Reagan, I take full responsibility for not thinking clearly tonight. If you told me two or thr
ee weeks from now that you were pregnant, I’d probably be scared shitless, but I wouldn’t be angry at you. Why would you think that?”
Every muscle in my body tensed. I hadn’t intended my question to lead anywhere other than making sure he meant what he’d said about any relationship we might have being out in the open. His question stole the warmth from my being. He felt it and worry sprang to his face. Fear that he’d press me, want to know the reason behind my reaction, pulled past hurts back to the surface. Tears burned at the backs of my eyes, but I blinked them away as fast as I could.
“Do you want to leave?” he asked softly.
I started to nod, stopping when I considered losing his warmth. It felt so good to be with him. Not just on a carnal level. In that moment, as old wounds threatened to reopen, the gentle caress of his thumb running across my cheek kept me from giving in to the pain. “No,” I whispered, even though I knew it might be a mistake.
He pulled back from me, his hand slipping from my cheek to gently take my hand. I didn’t resist when he started leading me. We had already crossed into his bedroom before I realized where we were going. Panic and heat welled in my center. I didn’t have the strength to resist him, despite being almost positive this was a bad idea. I was already so far gone when it came to him on a sexual level. Sleeping with my boss was likely to go horribly wrong. Falling in love with him would almost certainly lead to disaster.
I was still wearing his bathrobe when he left me standing at the edge of his bed to pull the sheets back. When he straightened and faced me again, I said, “I can sleep in the other room.”
He shook his head. “I want you in my bed, whether I’m here with you or not. I’ll take the couch if you’re not comfortable sharing a bed with me.”
Not wanting him to leave, or to be alone, I reached forward with shaking fingers and touched his hand. Taking that as all the invitation he needed, he swept me into his arms and set me on the bed. A few seconds later, he had walked around to the other side and was lying down beside me. I thought perhaps he’d give me space to process everything. If that had been his intention, he lasted less than half a minute before rolling toward me and pulling me against his body. My back to his front, I pulled in a shuddering breath. Scared of what it meant, yet utterly at peace in his arms, I closed my eyes.
SEVEN
Paying Up
Reagan woke less upset than she had been the night before. I had no clue about the reason behind her sudden melancholy, but she had been smiling in her sleep when I woke with her in my arms. I only wished it had lasted. All through breakfast, her anxiety rose. By the time we made it to the office, her hands were shaking. It was as if she thought simply walking through the halls would be enough to tip everyone off that we’d slept together.
In all honesty, she might have been right when it came to myself, at least. More than one person commented on my good mood in the hour leading up to our team meeting. Normally this close to the print deadline, I became increasingly distracted and short with people. A week away and the meeting was going unusually well. Several of my employees were giving me curious glances.
While Pedro gave a progress report on his sections, I held my phone in my lap and texted Reagan. Have you decided? Was last night a once in a lifetime sort of thing, or will you trust me to handle things?
She jumped when her phone buzzed on top of her stack of file folders. I doubted she was really listening that closely to Pedro. Her gaze bounced down to the phone. I’d never seen her reply to a text or email in the middle of a meeting like some of the others might, but she caught sight of who the text was from and her gaze flitted over to me. Frowning, she turned back and open the text message.
Tension pulled her shoulders together. She hesitated responding. Finally, she huffed and typed back: Can’t this wait?
No.
Even only seeing her in a side view, I caught the roll of her eyes. Francine glanced over at Reagan, making her pull her phone closer to her body. The text I got back almost made me laugh.
Fine. I trust you. If you’re wrong, you owe me big time.
I knew I wouldn’t be wrong, so I just smiled and set my phone back on my desk. Pedro finished up a few minutes later and I took control again. “Thank you, Pedro. It sounds like everyone is on track to meet the deadline. Melanie, since you’re pretty much in the clear with your sections, if you could help Adam get caught up on his after being out sick most of last week, that would be great.”
Melanie nodded, much to Adam’s relief. Papers started shuffling, people beginning to move in anticipation of being dismissed.
“I have one other quick item I wanted to cover before you all take off,” I said. Everyone stopped moving. Most expressions were merely curious. Emily’s gaze darted between myself and her friend. Reagan looked as though she were going to be sick as suspicion made her wary. Fighting back a smile wasn’t easy.
“Most of you have been here long enough to know I try to keep my personal and business life as separate as possible. Given that expectation, I felt it only right to be upfront about the fact that Reagan and I are dating, that way there’s no whispering, guessing, or awkwardness regarding the situation. Everyone in this office has always been professional about their relationships, whether they’re with someone at the magazine or not, and we intended to do the same. If anyone has an issue with this, my door is always open.”
Now the expressions in the room ranged from mild shock, to surprise, to happiness, to Emily in the back quietly clapping and grinning like an idiot.
“If nobody has anything else, you’re all free to get back to work.”
Emily bounced over to Reagan as soon as she stood, babbling in a hushed voice that I was sure Reagan wasn’t listening to in the least. She was searing me with her gaze instead. I was forced to stop looking at her when Isaac, a typographer who’d been with the magazine longer than I had, approached my desk. He reached up and clapped me on the shoulder.
“Nice to see you getting out there again,” he said. That was where he left it before walking off, but the brief comment had an effect on me. Reagan had mentioned Emily saying something about my past and why I hadn’t dated recently, but seemed not to know any details. Isaac did know. My playful mood had mellowed by the time my office cleared and Reagan was suddenly standing in front of my desk.
“I can’t believe you did that!” she hissed. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I told you I would handle it.”
“You could have at least warned me!” Blowing out a frustrated breath, she parked one hand on her hip. “Besides, when did we actually decide we were dating? One night doesn’t make me your girlfriend, Mr. Gabriel. I thought…”
Her words trailed off when I pinched her chin lightly between my fingers. “Quit calling me Mr. Gabriel. I have a first name. I thought I’d already explained my feelings on this matter.”
“We are at work,” she snapped as she batted my hand away.
“Yeah, and at work everyone else calls me Donovan.”
Shaking her head at me, she was far from done. “You seriously jumped the gun here! What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that I plan to make you a regular fixture in my personal life, and in order to do that, I had to make sure it wasn’t going to be an issue at work. I said I would handle it, and I did.”
“You are impossible,” she snapped.
“No, I just want you more than you seem to understand,” I said, leaning over my desk to meet her gaze head on. Before she could stop me, I kissed her.
She pulled back immediately, gaze bouncing around as if someone might have seen us despite my blinds being closed as they usually were during our team meetings so the projector many of the managers used for their progress reports could be seen more easily. “Don’t kiss me at work!” she squeaked.
“Why not?” I asked as I came around the desk and crossed my arms.
“Someone might see,” she pleaded.
“So? They all know we’re
dating now.”
Reagan threw her hands up. “I never agreed we were dating and it’s unprofessional!”
“Not in the privacy of my office. I promise not to kiss you in front of other people, but in here, or out to lunch, no promises.”
I couldn’t resist grinning at her when she rolled her eyes, but her stance softened by the smallest degree. Before she could find another reason to be annoyed at me, I pulled her against my body and kissed her as a surprised gasp escaped her lips. She swallowed a soft moan as I deepened the kiss, her body melting against mine.
A short burst of knocking sounded on my door before it pushed open. Reagan jumped away from me in surprise, red flooding her face as Marie breezed into the room. I stifled a laugh while Reagan’s lips moved soundlessly.
“Pull yourself together, Reagan,” Marie said with a wave of her hand. “I’m glad to see Donovan finally got his head out of his ass and made a move. Just don’t let it affect your work and you’re more than welcome to do whatever the hell you want outside of work…” Her gaze darted around the darkened room. “Or with the blinds drawn.”
“Marie, good morning,” I said when she approached my desk. Reagan was still standing next to me, no less panicked after what Marie said. “What brings you down to the third floor this early?”
She pointed a finger at each of us, one at a time. “When I got here this morning and saw Reagan’s car never got picked up last night, I figured you’d be needing these.” She dropped a packet of paperwork on my desk. “Get it back to HR by the end of the week.”
“No problem.”
“Good,” she said, then turned and walked back toward the door.
Reagan didn’t say a word until Marie had disappeared and closed the door behind her, though I didn’t think she saw the grin and wink my boss threw me before leaving. Only once we were alone again did Reagan ask, “What is that packet for?”
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