Unsure of what else to do, Sam smiled widely. She knew she was probably in trouble, but she’d used her brilliant smile on more than one occasion to smooth over her mistakes.
He didn’t smile back. Instead, he turned and stomped back into his office without speaking. He slammed his office door so forcefully that Sam leaped in her seat.
And then…silence.
She kept waiting for a scolding from the speakerphone. An email telling her to pack up her things. Certainly she was due for a tongue-lashing via instant messaging at the very least. But it was silent in the office.
Maybe she did know how to handle him. Agnes certainly wasn’t the kind of woman to take orders barked at her. Perhaps he needed to know what his boundaries were with her. His boundaries were abundantly clear and she’d respect them. For now.
Finally she was able to relax and eat her own lunch. Or at least she tried. A few bites into her wrap, the headache and nausea from earlier had faded, but something else seemed to be gnawing at her.
Her mind kept straying back to those beautiful, deep blue eyes.
Given the stern warning from Agnes about his face, Sam had expected him to be…ruined, somehow. But he wasn’t. Yes, he was scarred terribly. It made her sick to her stomach to think of what he must’ve gone through to have scars like that. But that was only a part of him. The other side of his face was strikingly handsome. He was tall and muscular. She could easily imagine running her hands down the hard muscles of his arms and pressing her body against the wall of his chest.
And those eyes…
The tingle of anxiety from earlier had now become a tingle of another variety. Sam twitched uneasily in her seat and took a deep breath to wish away her misplaced desire.
“Enough of that,” she said aloud. “We are not doing this again.” Picking up her wrap, she took another bite and tried to force her mind onto her lunch and off of her boss.
If the fiasco of her last job taught her nothing else, it was that work relationships were bad. Relationships with your boss were catastrophic. Especially when they were married and conveniently left that fact out of every conversation they’d ever had.
Sam was naive when she had let herself fall for her boss, Luke. She’d let her guard down for the handsome, charming liar. But she’d learned a hard lesson she wasn’t about to repeat. Given the circumstances of this job, she never thought it would be a problem. Brody was a grumpy, scarred recluse. Not exactly sexual fantasy material. But now she had seen him and things had changed. Which was frustratingly pointless. Agnes said Brody wasn’t married, but he was as off-limits as any other employer.
Disgusted, Sam flopped her lunch back onto its wrapper. She needed to start focusing on work and maybe she’d forget about the whiff of his cologne and the full curve of his lips. Or not.
Maybe she should’ve just let him stay in his office.
* * *
Brody shouldn’t have gone out there. He knew it, and yet he did it anyway.
Now he sat at his desk, silently brooding. He hadn’t been able to touch his container of baked spaghetti for the past hour. It was his favorite, but he’d lost his appetite the minute he came face-to-face with Samantha Davis.
The surveillance cameras hadn’t done her justice. She was absolutely breathtaking in person. She had a glow of confidence—a radiance—that didn’t translate through the lens. Neither did her scent. Her sweater had left the smell of her floral perfume on his hands. When he got closer to her, he also picked up a hint of what he assumed was her cherry lip gloss. It had made her full pink lips shiny and alluring.
Brody was suddenly very warm. He kept his office cool to offset the heat produced by all his computer equipment, but it wasn’t enough. He leaned forward and shrugged out of his suit coat, tossing it aside. It barely helped.
He wanted to kiss her and taste those lips more than he had wanted to kiss another woman in his life. His body had quickly reacted to being so close to her. His pulse raced, his groin tightened and his grasp of the English language vanished. It was an instantaneous reaction. One that forced him back into his office before he made a fool of himself.
Samantha would never kiss him. At least not because she thought he was attractive and wanted to kiss him. On the one occasion in the past where a woman had appeared interested, it was his bank account, not his body that drew her in. Once she got what she came for, she was gone.
Truthfully, Brody had enough money for women to overlook the scars. He’d known women to put up with worse for access to the black American Express card. Every billionaire in Forbes magazine had some busty blonde twenty years younger than him clinging affectionately to his arm in photographs. It didn’t matter how old or ugly or unpleasant the men were because they were rich. But that’s not what Brody wanted.
He wanted more than arm candy or a trophy wife. He wanted more out of a relationship than what he could buy. He might get sex in a dark room. He might get companionship in exchange for expensive gifts. But Brody would never have love and he knew it. It only took one time getting burned to learn that lesson.
But Samantha gave him hope. She hadn’t reacted the way he expected her to. There was the initial draw of air into her lungs, but there the reaction stopped. Or changed, he should say. Instead of her gaze running over his scars, it had found its focus in his eyes. There had been a softness there, a comfortable warmth in her dark brown eyes. And then…she had smiled.
No disgust. No pity. No irritation. If he didn’t know better, he might think it was actually attraction. He’d seen the same look in a girl’s eyes as she admired one of his brothers in high school. Or the way his foster mother, Molly, looked at Ken. But it had never been directed at him.
The problem now was figuring out what to do next. He was tempted to drop the rude act and actually try talking to her. Maybe from there he could consider asking her out. His gut warned him to stay away while his body urged him closer.
Turning back to the monitor, Brody lamented his inexperience with the fairer sex. The past few years with Agnes hadn’t helped much. What if he was wrong about Samantha’s reaction? He’d feel like a fool when she rejected him. And she would. The work relationship would be even more strained then. So he would keep his mouth shut on the subject.
But at least the worst was over. Samantha had seen him. The veil had been lifted and the awkward moment was behind them.
The chime of his email program turned his attention back to his computer. He had a teleconference with his executive staff in fifteen minutes. Not even his most trusted and senior employees ever spoke to Brody in person or saw his face. Typically his employees spent the entire time talking to a red curtain backdrop while he sat to the side. He could’ve just called a conference call, but he liked to see their faces during meetings. He could get so much more from their expressions than just their voices.
Before the meeting started, he needed the agenda and financial reports he’s asked Samantha to pull together earlier.
Brody reached out to press the speaker button and hesitated. There was absolutely no reason to go out to Samantha’s desk aside from the fact that he wanted to see her again. He almost wished she had recoiled in horror so he could return to focusing on his work instead of the sway of her hips as she walked.
Perhaps he’d read her reaction wrong. She might just have a good poker face. If he went out there and she avoided looking at him…if she shied away from his scarred hand…then he could return to his life in progress and know all was right with the world again. Yes, that was why he was going out there.
He pushed away from his desk and walked past the vintage pinball machine to the door. His hand rested on the knob for a few moments before he worked up the nerve to turn it. Earlier, he’d been angry and hadn’t thought before he reacted. Now he couldn’t shut his brain off long enough to make his wrist rotate. What if he was wrong? He did
n’t want to be wrong, but what would he do if she was attracted to him?
“Coward,” he cursed at himself and forced his way into the reception area.
Samantha immediately shot to attention at her desk. She looked at him with wide-eyed surprise as he came out and approached her desk. Under the initial shock was a bit of apprehension. Her delicate brow furrowed as she fought a concerned frown. Was she afraid of him? She wouldn’t be the first, although he hated to think so.
“Is s-something wrong, Mr. Eden?” Samantha leaped up from her chair, nervously straightening her blouse and fidgeting with a ring on her right hand. “I apologize for earlier, sir. That was unprofessional of me. You’ll come out of your office when you want to.”
That explained it. She thought he was mad over her little stunt. She had probably been stewing at her desk, worrying she was about to get fired while he was thinking of kissing her. That only proved how far off base he was. He hadn’t been thrilled at the time, but it was just as well that they got over that first hurdle. She wasn’t about to be fired. Nor, sadly, was she about to be kissed. Brody shook his head dismissively. “No apology is necessary, Miss Davis.”
She breathed a soft sigh of relief and every tense muscle in her body seemed to uncoil at his words. He couldn’t help but notice every detail of her body from the slight movement of her full breasts as she breathed to the curve of her throat.
“Sam, please,” she said, distracting him from surveying her body.
Sam. He liked that. There was something sassy and decidedly feminine about the nickname despite its traditionally masculine use. “I should’ve come out sooner. I’m very busy.”
Sam nodded with understanding, but his excuse sounded lame to his own ears, so he figured it had to seem hollow to her, as well. “Of course.” She reached down to a file on her desk and handed it to him with a wide smile. “Here’s the report for your one o’clock meeting.”
Brody froze in place, momentarily entranced by the stunning beauty of her smile. Full, pink lips. Dazzling white teeth. It seemed so sincere, begging him to trust her. It lit up her face, making her even more attractive. His foster mother had always insisted that he was so handsome when he smiled. He never believed Molly—moms had to say things like that—but it was never a truer statement than with Sam.
He reached out and took the file from her, tucking it under his arm. At this point, he knew he should return to his office, but something kept him anchored to the spot. He wanted to stay. His mind raced for an excuse.
Brody sucked at small talk, so he wouldn’t even try. Instead, he thrust his hand into his pants pocket and found his USB flash drive there. The tiny memory stick held most of his important files, and he carried it with him everywhere he went. It was perfect, he realized. Just the thing he needed to help him figure out if his new secretary was sincere or a really good actress.
Grasping the flash drive in his scarred hand, he reached out to her. “I need you to print a file off this drive while I’m in my meeting.”
He watched as Sam looked down at the small device on the open palm of his hand. She hesitated for a moment and then reached out for it. Using her shapely, pink glittery fingernails, she plucked it from his hand without touching his skin. He might not have noticed how deliberate the movement was if he hadn’t been watching for just such a thing.
Brody tried to swallow his disappointment. She didn’t mind looking at him, but she didn’t want to touch him. It wasn’t surprising, but it was a letdown. She was polite and friendly to him because he was her boss. Nothing more. He should’ve known better than to let his mind wander to places it didn’t need to be. “There’s a white paper I’ve written on there about our latest database management innovations. Please print it out so I can redline changes later this afternoon.”
“Yes, sir.”
Brody turned on his heel, ready to return to his office and lick his wounds, when he heard her voice call out to him again.
“Mr. Eden?” she asked.
“Yes?” He stopped and turned back to her.
Sam rounded her desk and approached him. His body tensed involuntarily as she came closer. She reached up to the scarred side of his face, causing his lungs to seize in his chest. What was she doing?
“Your shirt…” Her voice drifted off.
He felt her fingertips gently brush the puckered skin along his neck before straightening his shirt collar. It must’ve flipped up when he took his suit coat off earlier. The innocent touch sent a jolt of heat through his body. It was so simple, so unplanned, and yet it was the first time a woman had touched his scars.
His foster mother had often kissed and patted his cheek, and nurses had applied medicine and bandages after various reconstructive procedures, but this was different. As a shiver ran down his spine, it felt different, as well.
Without thinking, he brought his hand up to grasp hers. Sam gasped softly at his sudden movement, but she didn’t pull away when his scarred fingers wrapped around her own. He was glad. He wasn’t ready to let go. The pleasurable surge that ran up his arm from her touch was electric. His every nerve lit up with awareness, and he was pretty certain she felt it, too. Her dark brown eyes were wide as she looked at him, her moist lips parted seductively and begging for his kiss.
He slowly drew her hand down, his eyes locked on hers. Sam swallowed hard and let her arm fall to her side when he finally let her go. “Much better,” she said, gesturing to his collar with a nervous smile. She held up the flash drive in her other hand. “I’ll get this printed for you, sir.”
“Call me Brody,” he said, finding his voice when the air finally moved in his lungs again. He might still be her boss, but suddenly he didn’t want any formalities between them. He wanted her to say his name. He wanted to reach out and touch her again. But he wouldn’t.
Sam looked away to glance down at the pink and crystal watch on her delicate wrist. Brody couldn’t help but notice how every detail about her was so…sparkly. Her watch was simply the latest piece. The large cocktail ring on her right hand made her earrings look demure. The stitching on her silk blouse reflected the light as did the glitter that seemed to be embedded in her pink eye shadow. Her heels had a pattern of sequins and stones across the toe shaped like a daisy. Even the buttons on her sweater looked like dime-sized diamonds.
He wasn’t used to that. His sister, Julianne, was feminine, but she was also raised in a house full of boys. She could hold her own and very rarely, if ever, sparkled. Most of the time, she was actually covered in sculpting mud from her pottery.
“You’re going to be late for your executive meeting, Brody.”
His name coming from her lips sounded wonderful to his ears, but he couldn’t dwell on it. He looked down at his own watch, which was expensive, painstakingly accurate, but not at all flashy. She was right. He reluctantly took the file out from under his arm and held it up as he backed away. “Thanks.”
Returning to the safety of his office, he closed the door and flopped his back against the solid wood. He took his first deep breath in five minutes, the scent of her perfume in his lungs. It made his head swim, the blood rushing from his extremities to fuel his desire with a restless ache he’d grown accustomed to over the years.
No woman, sparkly or otherwise, had ever deliberately touched his scars like that. With every fiber of his being, he wanted her to do it again.
Three
The house was empty. It always was when Brody came home. At least as far as people were concerned. He hung his overcoat on the hook by the garage entrance, tossed his laptop bag onto the kitchen table and whistled loudly.
His answer came in the form of excited clicks of toenails on the hardwood floor and thumps down the stairs. A few moments later, a large golden retriever rounded the corner and bounded straight for him. Brody braced himself as the dog stood up onto her hind legs and pla
ced her paws on his chest. Normally she met him at the door, so she must’ve been sound asleep on her giant beanbag pillow upstairs.
He leaned down to let her lick him and scratched gently behind her ears. “Hey there, Chris. Did you have a good day with Peggy?”
The dog jumped down and danced around his feet, her tail wagging enthusiastically. Chris was a very happy dog and a great companion for Brody. It was impossible for him to sulk with her around. His foster sister, Julianne, had gotten the puppy for him as a birthday present three years ago. She decided that he needed a hot blonde in his life, so he named her after sexy pop singer Christina Aguilera as a joke.
Admittedly, she had been a great gift. She kept Brody company in his big empty house. His housekeeper, Peggy, walked and cared for her during the day, and the dog occasionally stayed with Agnes if Brody had to travel. It wasn’t much of a burden. Everyone loved Chris.
“Did Peggy feed you dinner yet?”
Chris darted over to her empty bowl and stared up expectantly. Brody looked down into the dog’s big brown eyes and knew she’d never admit it, even if she’d already eaten. She was a canine garbage disposal. “Here you go,” he said, filling her bowl with her favorite kibble. “I wonder what Peggy left for me to eat?”
He had a good guess. Tonight, the air was filled with the spicy scent of Mexican food.
Peggy arrived after he left for work and was gone before he came home. She kept his place tidy, took care of Chris, handled the laundry that didn’t go to the cleaners and did all his grocery shopping and cooking. Peggy was an excellent cook. She made a pot roast so good it could make you cry. It was even better than Molly’s, although he wouldn’t admit to that even if one of his brothers had him in a headlock.
Peggy had worked for him for five years, but Brody wasn’t entirely sure what she looked like. There was a copy of her driver’s license photo in her file from her background check, but few people actually looked like their pictures. Agnes had interviewed her, so he’d never met Peggy in person. All he knew was that she could deal with his idiosyncrasies, and that made her perfect.
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