by Penny Jordan
“We’ll do this tomorrow. Now’s not a good time.” The quiet words carried a husky edge that caused a shiver of something visceral to brush over her.
She didn’t understand her reaction, certainly didn’t know why she was unable to stop staring into his eyes even when a flush of heat washed through her.
“I can’t take advantage of your work ethic,” he added. “It could undermine our employer-employee relationship.”
Appalled, she jerked her gaze to the floor, blushing anew as she processed that she’d been in the throes of a moment and hadn’t even properly recognized it as one until her mooning became so obvious he had to shut her down.
How? In the past few years, any sort of sexual aggression on a man’s part had stopped her heart. Terror was her reaction and escape her primary instinct. Wistful thoughts like, I wonder how his stubble would feel against my lips, had never happened to her, but for a few seconds she’d gone completely dreamy.
Her body flamed like it was on fire, but not only from mortification. There was something else, a curiosity she barely remembered from a million years ago when she’d been a girl talking to a nice boy at school.
If she had the smarts she always claimed to, she’d let his remark stand. She’d excuse herself to Marseille and never be seen again.
At the same time, as discomfited as she was, her ability to have a moment was so heartening she couldn’t help standing in place like someone testing cold waters, trying to decide whether to wade farther in.
Not that she’d come here for that. No, she wanted to say goodbye and he’d given her an opening.
“Actually, we don’t have that kind of relationship anymore.” With jerky movements she set his laptop on the coffee table and pressed the lid closed. “Today was my last day. I should have changed, but I’m having trouble letting go.”
He sat back, hands on his knees, taken aback. “Why wasn’t I informed? If you’re moving to the competition, we’ll match whatever they’re offering.”
“That’s not it.” She sank onto the seat opposite him and grasped her hands together so she could portray more composure than she actually possessed. Emotions rose as she realized this was it, no more uniform, no more career with the Makricosta hotel chain, no more Theo. Her voice grew husky. “You—I—I mean the company—have been so good with training me and offering certifications. I would never throw that in your face and run to the competition.”
“We believe in investing in our employees.”
“I know, but I never dreamed I could go from chambermaid to the front desk in that kind of time, let alone manage the department.” She remembered how frightened she’d been of getting in trouble for leaving her cleaning duties when she’d brought a lost little boy to the office, hovering to translate until his parents were located. Theo happened to be conducting one of his audits and was impressed by her mastery of four languages and ability to keep a little one calm.
“My confidence was at a low when I began working here,” she confessed with a tough smile. “If you hadn’t asked me if I planned to apply for the night clerk job I wouldn’t have thought I’d even be considered. I’m really grateful you did that.”
There. She’d said what she had wanted to say.
“My sister would disown me if I turned into a sexist,” he dismissed, but his gaze went to his phone. His despondency returned to hover in the room like a cloud off dry ice. She sensed that whatever news was affecting him, Adara Makricosta had delivered it.
“Where are you going, if not two doors down?” he asked abruptly.
She lifted her gaze off the strong hands massaging his knees. He wasn’t as collected as he was trying to appear. For some reason, she wanted to take those hands and hold them still and say, It’ll be okay. You’d be surprised what a person can endure.
“France,” she replied, not wanting to talk about her situation, especially when it appeared he was only looking for distraction from his own troubles. “Marseille. It’s a family thing. Very sudden. I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sure why she tacked on the apology. Habits of a woman, she supposed, but she was sorry. Sorry that she had to leave this job, sorry she was inconveniencing him, sorry that her cousin was dying.
She felt her mouth pulling down at the corners and ducked her head.
“You’re not getting married, are you? This isn’t one of those arranged things?” He sounded so aghast she had to smile. Westerners could be so judgmental, like all his relationships were love matches rather than practical arrangements.
“No.” She lifted her head and he snagged her into another moment.
It occurred to her why she didn’t feel threatened by this. They’d had a million of these brief engagements, all very short-lived. For over four years, she’d been glancing up to catch him watching her and he had been looking back to his work so smoothly she had put the charged seconds down to her imagination, convincing herself he didn’t even know she was alive.
Our employer-employee relationship...
Was that what had kept him from showing interest before? It wouldn’t surprise her. He held himself to very high standards, never making a false move.
But if that was what had held him back, what did it mean for her right now, when she was alone with him in this suite and he knew she was no longer off limits?
Ingrained caution had her measuring the distance to the door, then flicking a reading glance at him.
The air of masculine interest surrounding him fell away and her boss returned. “This is a blow to the company. I’ll provide you a reference, of course, but would a leave of absence be more appropriate? Should we keep your job open for you?”
His sudden switch gave her tense nerves a twang, leaving her unsettled. Men never seemed to get her messages to back off. Having Theo read her so clearly was disturbing.
“I—No.” She shook her head, trying to stay on topic, tempted to say she’d return, but Saranya’s cancer made it very unlikely. She hated to even think about it, but she’d been through it with Human Resources and had to get used to reality. “I’m moving in with my cousin and her husband. She’s very ill, won’t survive. I’m close with their daughter and she’ll need me.”
“I’m sorry. That’s rough.”
She absorbed the quiet platitude with a nod.
“I don’t mean to sound crass, but would money help?” he added.
“Thank you, but that’s not the issue. My cousin’s husband is very well-off. They were extremely good to me when I left India, taking me in until I was able to support myself. I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t with them through this.”
“I understand.”
Did he? His family seemed so odd. Estranged almost. His remark about his sister a few minutes ago was as personal as she’d ever heard him speak of her. The few occasions when she’d seen any of them together, none had shown warmth or connection.
Who was she to judge, she thought with a jagged pain? She’d been disowned by her family.
He seemed to have equally dismal thoughts. His gaze dropped to the papers still scattered across the floor. He picked up his drink, but only let it hang in his loose fingers.
“Do you want to talk about...whatever is troubling you?” she asked.
“I’d rather drink myself unconscious.” He sipped and scowled, “But I only have watered down soda, so...” He set it aside and stood, giving her the signal that heart-to-heart confessions were off the table.
She tried not to take it as a slight. He was a private man. This was the most revealing she’d ever seen him.
“I’m sorry we won’t be working together any longer, Jaya. Our loss is the hoteliers in Marseille’s gain. Please contact me if you’re interested in working for Makricosta’s again. We have three in France.”
“I know. Thank you, I will.” She swallowed and wondered if she would turn into a co
mplete fool and start to cry. Standing, she put her hand in his and tried for one firm pump with a clean release.
He kept her hand in his warm one. His thumb grazed over the backs of her knuckles.
Her skin tingled and her stomach took a roller coaster dip and swoop.
She looked at his eyes, but he was looking at their hands. Her fingers quivered in his grip as he turned her palm up. She almost thought he was going to raise it to his lips. He looked up and the swooning dip hit harder. That was a sex look.
But it was Theo’s eyes, Theo’s expression that was always so aloof but now glowed with admiration and something else that was aggressive and hungry. He skimmed his gaze down her cheek to her mouth and sensations like fireworks burst through her. Zinging streaks of heat shot down her limbs and detonated her heart into expansive pumps.
She was experiencing sexual excitement, she interpreted dazedly, and the sensations grew as he stepped closer and lowered his head. He was going to kiss her!
She stiffened with apprehension and he straightened. Her hand wound up hanging in the air ungrasped as he pulled in a strained breath from the ceiling. “You’re right. It’s not appropriate.” Weary despair returned like a cloak to weigh down his shoulders. “I apologize.”
“No, I—” Please let her dark skin disguise some of these fervent blushes. “You surprised me. I came in here reminding myself not to call you Theo. I didn’t think you thought about me like that. I would—” Was she really going to risk this? She had to. She’d never get another chance. “I’d like it if you kissed me.”
CHAPTER TWO
“JAYA—”
The gentle let-down in his tone made her cringe. She’d lost him to her habitual rejection of male closeness, but wanting a man to touch her was so new. She couldn’t help that it scared her.
He searched her face with his gaze. “You have to know how pretty you are. Of course I’ve noticed you. I’ve also noticed you don’t party like the rest of your age group. You’re not the one-night stand type.”
“I said a kiss, not that I wanted to sleep with you.”
Her swift disdain amused him. He quirked his mouth and tilted back his head. “So you did. You can see what a philanderer I am, it didn’t occur to me you weren’t offering to stay the night.” He made a noise of disparagement that seemed self-directed. His wide shoulders sank another notch.
He appeared so tired and in need of comfort. Conflict held her there another minute. She wanted him to see her as available, yet wanted to self-protect. It was frustrating.
“What age group?” she challenged, pushing herself as much as him. “I’m twenty-five. What are you? Thirty?”
“Are you? You look younger.” His mouth twitched again as he reassessed her in a way that incited more contradictory feelings all through her.
Just go, her timid self said. It’s safer. Her more deeply buried self, the girl who had grown up determined to make something of herself, believing in things like equal rights and reaching her own potential, stood there and tried to make him see her as someone who shouldn’t be dismissed. Someone with value and values.
“Having a career is important to me. Makricosta’s has been a second chance to build one and I haven’t wanted to do anything to jeopardize it. You won’t be surprised to hear I send money to my parents. I can’t afford to drop shifts because I’m hung-over.”
“I’m not surprised at all. You’ve always struck me as very loyal. And sweet. Virginal even.” It was almost a question.
The backs of her eyes stung and she lowered her gaze to her clenched hands. “I’m not,” she admitted in a small voice, not wanting those memories to intrude when she felt so safe with him.
“And you’ve been judged for that? Men and their double standards. I hate my sex. Judge me. I sleep with women and never talk to them again. I really do that, Jaya,” he confessed with dark self-disgust.
She heard the warning behind his odd attempt to reassure. She appreciated the effort—even though he had it all wrong. Yes, she had been judged, but for a man’s crime against her, not any she’d committed.
“I hate men, too,” she admitted. But not you, she silently added.
“Ah, some bastard broke your heart. I excel at being the rebound guy, you know.” Here was the generous tycoon with the hospitable expression who asked a guest if she was enjoying her stay and wound up sharing her table along with further amenities.
“Is that why you pick up those tourists?” she couldn’t help teasing, amused by this side of him in spite of her exasperation. “You’re offering first aid?”
“I’m a regular paramedic. ‘He cheated? He’s a fool.’” He shook his head in self-deprecation. “I should be shot.”
“Are you really that shallow?” She didn’t believe it. The women were always relaxed and euphoric, never morose, when they checked out. She was envious of that. Curious.
“I’m not very deep.” He rubbed his face. “But I don’t lie. They know what they’re getting.”
“One night,” she clarified, wondering why he thought he had nothing to offer a woman beyond that.
“One night,” he agreed with an impactful look. His hands went into his pockets and he rocked back on his heels, saying, “And apparently you restrict to one kiss. But I’ll take it if you’re still offering.”
The craving in his gaze was so naked, she blushed hard enough her cheeks stung. Covering them, she laughed at herself and couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m not a certified attendant.”
“There’s not a woman in the world with enough training to fix me. Don’t try.” Another warning, his tone a little cooler.
She shook her head. This was about fixing herself, not him. “I just keep thinking that if I leave without kissing you, I’ll always wonder what it would have been like.”
That sounded too ingenuous, too needy, but his quietly loaded, “Yeah,” seemed to put them on the same page, which was remarkable. He stared at her mouth and hot tingles made her lips feel plump. She tried to lick the sensation away.
His breath rushed out in a ragged exhale. He loomed closer, so tall and broad, blocking out her vision, nearly overwhelming her. But when his fingers lightly caressed her jaw and his mouth came down, she was paralyzed with anticipation.
There’d been a few kisses in her life, none very memorable, but when his mouth settled on hers, unhurried and hot, she knew she’d remember this for the rest of her life.
The smooth texture of his lips sealed to hers. He didn’t force her mouth open. She softened and welcomed his confident possession, weakening despite the nervous flutters accosting her. He rocked the fit, deepening the kiss so she opened her mouth wider, bathed in delicious waves of heat. Their lips dampened and slid erotically. His tongue was almost there, then not, then—
He licked into her mouth and she moaned, lashed with exquisite delight. This was the kind of kiss she’d only read about and now she knew there was a reason they called it a soul kiss. Her hand went to his shoulder for balance. She lifted on her toes, wanting more pressure, more of him settling into her inner being.
With a groan, he slid his arm around her and pulled her tight against him, softly crushing her mouth while digging his fingers into her bound hair. It was good, so good. She reached her arms around his neck, loving how it felt to be kissed and held so tightly against his hard chest and—
He was hard everywhere.
Like hitting a wall, she pushed back, perturbed by how intensely she had been responding and the dicey situation she’d put herself in.
He didn’t let her go right away, kind of steadied her first while staggering one step himself, then he ran a hand through his hair and swore under his breath. “Hellfire, Jaya. I suspected it’d be good, but I didn’t know it’d be that good. Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night?”
“I—” Say no
. Go. But what if he was the one? The man who would get her past the hurdle of burying her sexuality out of fear? “I really wasn’t expecting this.” Liar, an inner vixen accused. “You’re right that I don’t have affairs. I don’t know if that’s what I want right now, but...” She found herself wringing her hands like the virgin he’d accused her of being. “I really liked kissing you.”
“Are you trying to let me down gently? Because it’s not necessary.”
“No! I’m genuinely confused about what I want.” It was almost a wail of agony she was so frustrated with herself.
His mouth pulled up on one side in a half grin that might have been patronizing if he hadn’t softened it by saying, “You’re not the one-night stand type, but your life has been derailed and sex would take your mind off things. Believe me, I sympathize.”
She cocked her head, intrigued by these glimpses into the man behind the aloof mask. “Is that why you’re asking me to stay?”
“That obvious, am I?”
“You’re making me worry for my friends. Is there a problem with Makricosta’s?” she probed.
“No,” he assured promptly, then sighed and scratched at his hair like he could erase whatever was going on inside his skull. “Mine is a personal derailment. A family thing, not an illness like yours. I’ve been angry with someone for a very long time and learned today that I have no reason to be. I’m running out of people to hate and blame. I don’t know what to do about that.”
Kiss me, she thought. She couldn’t believe he was opening up to her like this and way in the back of her mind, she suspected he would regret it, but right now it softened her into wanting to heal him. Madness. She was more broken than he was.
“You told me not to try fixing you,” she reminded gently. “It’s good advice. I honestly don’t know if I can be what you’re looking for tonight.” She wanted to be, but the thought of that kind of intimacy opened such a gaping vulnerability in her, she could hardly breathe. “I keep telling myself to leave.” She gestured toward the door.
“But you’re still here.”
