“Get the works.” She laughed. “But no anchovies.”
“Gotcha.” He pointed his finger like a gun and pulled an imaginary trigger.
Yes, you do.
He dialed the number to a pizza delivery service. She sighed and sank down into her chair. The guy did not take no for an answer. Fine. He could sit there and be bored to death while she worked.
Except Sophia was all caught up and had absolutely nothing to work on.
What if one of their co-workers came by, she fretted, and caught them having pizza together in her office? That would only add fuel to the already flaming office grapevine. And what if Michael got wind of this innocent tryst? Would he think she had lied to him about having someone special in her life?
Sophia winced.
“Something wrong?” Mike cocked his head inquisitively, giving him an endearing quality.
You.
His gaze snared hers. He leaned closer across her desk. His tangy scent caught her nose, tantalized her. His warm breath lightly tickled her skin.
Sophia realized with a jolt that he’d splashed on fresh cologne before coming into her office. Was he trying to seduce her with his intoxicating aroma?
He narrowed his gaze. Sophia noticed his eyes had turned a darker shade of green, murkier, colored by desire. Her glance traveled down his face, caught and paused at his mouth.
The mouth that had caused her so much trouble. Would Michael Barrington kiss like Mike the mailman? Would his lips send red-hot rockets shooting to her toes? Or would they be soft and gentle? Would his mouth be hot and hard like Mike’s or kind and understanding?
Which did she prefer? Fireworks or comfort?
“See something you like?” Mike asked, his sexy voice rasping against her eardrums, driving her crazy.
Sophia yanked her eyes from his face and stared down at her desk. She felt her pulse quicken at her neck. Was the man a magician or a mind reader or both?
“You’re in my way.” She pointed at a sky-blue chair located halfway across the room. “Go sit over there.”
He smirked but did not move.
“Shoo.” She motioned him away with both hands.
Still he didn’t go.
“I can’t work with you staring at me like that. If you don’t want to spend the night here with me, I suggest you get off my desk and let me get this stuff taken care of.”
“I’d spend the night with you anywhere, Sophia.”
She did not want to blush! Oh, no! But her cheeks heated anyway.
“Why are you so shy? You’re a beautiful woman.” Mike reached over and took her hand.
“Please don’t,” she whispered. “What if someone passes by in the corridor and sees us?”
“What if they do?”
“We’ll be the talk of the office.”
“So? Let them talk. I don’t care. Do you?”
Sophia wrenched her hand from his. “Yes. I do care. Very much. And that is exactly the reason I can’t become involved with you, Mike. You don’t care. About your job, the impression you make on people, anything.”
That seemed to sober him for a moment. He drew back and slanted her a sultry look. Her heart leapt into her throat.
“Is that the real reason, Sophia, or is it because you’re determined to marry Michael Barrington and don’t want to blow your chances by dating me?”
She sat up straight, and even though it took every ounce of courage she possessed, Sophia stared him in the eye. “I care for Michael a great deal, yes.”
“Tell me something.” He reached out to caress her cheek with one finger. “If I were the rich one, the one with all the money and cars and homes, would you forget all about Michael Barrington?”
“No,” Sophia said sharply, but she feared it was true.
No man had ever set her body ablaze the way Mike did. She wanted him desperately. Her body ached for him twice as much as her heart longed to be Mrs. Rex Michael Barrington III. But Mike wasn’t rich, he wasn’t ambitious. He could not provide for a family. He had no desire to settle down. He liked to play and party just as her father had. How could she choose a man like that? She could not, would not follow in her mother’s footsteps and fall into bed with a man simply because her hormones were raging.
And yet she wanted him! Blindly, stupidly, with every fiber of her being.
“Are you telling me the truth, Sophia?” He lowered his head and his voice. “You seriously find that uptight Harvard graduate more attractive than me?”
“Attraction has nothing to do with it.”
“Sweetheart,” Mike said, and that single word sent a shaft of delight arrowing through her. “Attraction has everything to do with it. Deny that what happened in your car this morning was anything less than earth-shattering.”
“I don’t base important decisions on the surge of passion,” Sophia replied primly. “I prefer to rationalize my choices with a well-thought-out plan of action.”
“You think too much,” he said, moving closer until mere inches separated them. Just when Sophia feared Mike was going to kiss her, the pizza delivery boy showed up, bringing with him the smell of yeast and tomato sauce.
Grateful for the interruption, Sophia hopped up from her chair and smiled at her teenage savior. She rummaged in her purse then extended the delivery boy a twenty-dollar bill. He swapped her the pizza and some change.
She watched the delivery boy go with lingering anxiety. Two seconds later she was left alone again with Mike.
“I’ll go for sodas,” Mike said. “Diet cola, right?”
She nodded.
Mike left Sophia’s office and went to catch the elevator to the break room. What did he want from Sophia? he asked himself as he strolled the hallway, his hands in his front pockets.
He wanted her to want him for himself. Not his money. Not his name. Not for the stability he could provide. He wanted to know that he, ordinary Mike, could please her without having to be Rex Michael Barrington III, successful corporate executive. He wanted to be responsible for putting a smile on her face and a song in her heart. He wanted to make her moan with delight. He wanted for her to call his name in ecstasy.
But Sophia resisted his every effort, so hung up was she with the thought of marrying her boss.
Mike wandered into the break room, fed quarters into the soft drink machine.
She was such a sexy woman. She carried herself with a calm confidence. Like Cleopatra or a much-sought-after movie star. He knew her potent sexuality was natural, not some put-on. He also knew she did not know how to deal with the desires she unintentionally raised in men.
What should he do? Give up pursuing her? And turn his back on what could possibly be the love of his life? Mike wasn’t getting any younger, and lately, whenever he gazed at Sophia, he experienced the most overwhelming longings that included weddings and honeymoons, babies and happily-ever-after.
Yes. He was falling for her. But was she falling for him?
He could, of course, reveal his true identity. She’d sure as heck want him and then he’d never know for sure if she loved him for himself, or if, like his ex-fiancée, Erica, she was simply seeking a trophy husband.
Mike winced.
There was really only one alternative. And it was a dangerous one. He must seduce her as Mike the mailman and yet he had to keep a firm grip on his own emotions in case she did turn out to be like Erica. Mike never wanted to go through pain like that again. But Sophia was worth the risk. If she could surrender herself to a man she believed too irresponsible and unambitious, if she could give up her desperate need for security in order to obtain real love, then and only then would he know the truth.
Sophia heard him coming down the corridor. The building was silent except for his footsteps.
Her heart thumped in response—wham, wham, wham.
Dammit, but she wanted him. Wanted his kisses, his hands on her skin, his body pressed against hers.
When he was near, Mike dominated her senses, wove his spell,
made her forget all about Michael Barrington and her vow to woo and win her boss.
No matter how illogical it was, her body longed to be joined with Mike. The man from the mail room. The here-today, gone-tomorrow rolling stone who could promise her nothing.
Despite all that, she still wanted him.
Remember what happened to your mother!
The sad tale Jannette had narrated a thousand times throughout Sophia’s childhood rang with brilliant clarity. She could not depend upon her heart to lead her in the right direction. If she followed her body’s basic urgings, and allowed herself to make love with Mike, what then? Did they have a future together? What if she got pregnant? Would he run out on her the way her father had abandoned her mother? Or worse, would he feel obligated to marry her, but be unwilling to make a real career for himself. Would she and the baby be forced to live in the sort of poverty she’d grown up in and had vowed never to bring a child into?
Use your head, Sophia. Forget you have a heart. One of Jannette’s frequent phrases spun through her mind. Hearts are made for breaking, heads for thinking.
Mike’s footsteps quieted on the carpet. He carried two soda cans and paper plates.
Sophia looked up. Her breath left her body. He was so incredibly handsome!
She had to get out of here, run away from him before she did something too stupid to consider.
His body filled the doorway, blocking her escape. Sophia gulped, startled at her physical reaction to him. Desire stole over her like an illness. Her palms were slick with perspiration, her brow feverish. She felt dizzy and her stomach fluttered.
Who was this man who affected her like no other? Even when she tried to focus on Michael Barrington, to mentally list his good qualities, she could not concentrate while looking at Mike.
She knew almost nothing about him save he had a reputation for partying and he rode a motorcycle. He had a killer grin and a nonchalant way of walking that made her want to jump his bones. Beyond that, she had no knowledge of the man. Not who his folks were, nor where he came from. She had no idea what his dreams were, his hopes, his plans for the future, if indeed he even possessed any. She didn’t know his favorite color or his favorite food.
Strangely enough, she knew all these things about Michael Barrington even though she didn’t know what he looked like. Over the past four months these little details had come up in conversation, or in e-mail posts.
Michael was the only child of Rex Michael Barrington II who had built the Barrington Corporation from the ground up back in the sixties. His mother had been Freda Heidler Barrington, originally from West Germany. That was the reason Michael spoke fluent German. His mother had died fifteen years ago of breast cancer and her death had struck Michael a hard blow. In reaction, Michael had poured himself into the company, opening and overseeing the European division. His dream was to take his father’s corporation and turn it into the largest hotel chain in the world. He wanted a wife and children someday. His favorite color was cherry red and his favorite dish was lamb chops with mint jelly, glazed carrots, new potatoes and green beans. He liked jogging, in-line skating and baseball. He was steady, reliable and an excellent provider. What more could anyone ask for?
Chemistry.
Just like the power surging between her and Mike, right here, right now.
“Sophia,” Mike said softly. She knew he felt it, too.
Too bad both men couldn’t be one and the same, Sophia thought regretfully. Everything she’d ever wanted rolled into one package. Hot good looks and a steady personality. A rebel with a future.
But she could not have both. Life wasn’t that kind. Mike was Mike and Michael was Michael. Even if they shared a common name, they were two very different men.
And Mike was the one gazing at her with a desire so strong, she felt as if her clothing was being torn from her body by his bold stare.
A long moment stretched into painful silence.
“Are you afraid of me?” Mike asked at last, still standing in the doorway clutching the cola and paper plates, the smell of onions and garlic wafting in the air around them.
“Don’t be silly,” Sophia said, but she refused to look at him. “Why would I be afraid of you?”
“Because you’re so darn attracted to me you don’t know what to do about it.”
Was she afraid of him? Or was she afraid of herself and the feelings that threatened to riot and overthrow her good sense?
He stalked across the room, set his burden on her desk, then shut the office door tightly closed. He turned around to challenge her.
“Are you afraid you like me more than you like Barrington?” he asked. “Are you worried that what you feel for me disturbs the neat little scenario you’ve got planned for your life?”
Afraid, no, terrified, yes.
“Let’s eat,” Sophia chirped, anxious to derail this particular topic of conversation. She reached for the pizza box but he stopped her by placing a hand on her arm.
“You didn’t answer my question.” His fingers splayed across her skin, branding her with the intensity of his touch.
“No,” she denied. How could she admit her weakness to him, when she scarcely dared admit it to herself?
“Then kiss me, Sophia. Prove to me that I don’t drive you crazy with desire.”
“Mike...” she began but got no further.
“Deny this, Sophia Shepherd.”
He grabbed both her wrists and pulled her flush against his chest. He stared into her face, gobbling her up with his moss-green eyes.
Sophia gasped. Shocked but excited.
His mouth swooped down on hers like a nighthawk claiming its helpless prey—powerful, strong, demanding.
It made the kiss in the car seem like a grandparent’s affectionate peck on the cheek.
Push him away! her mind urged. Now. Before it’s too late.
But her rebellious body disobeyed her warnings. She did not care about chastity or restraint. She craved satisfaction like a dieter craved chocolate-chip cookies. Tossing all caution into the face of that raging tornado that was her accelerating passion, Sophia melted into Mike, molding herself around his hard form, pressing as close to him as she could get.
He groaned and clutched her tighter.
Sophia arched her neck upward, exposing her throat to his hungry mouth.
His firm, masculine hands pulled her blouse from the waistband of her pants. He slowly, seductively unbuttoned the garment, his nimble fingers grazing her bare skin.
A trail of fire.
He kept exploring, gently pushing aside her bra until he discovered the prize he had been searching for.
Her nipples beaded instantly against his touch. He strummed them softly with his thumbs. The sensation was exquisite.
Sophia hissed in her breath. Her groin ached with a heaviness that begged release.
Mike buried his face in her hair. “Sophia,” he whispered. “Sophia, Sophia, Sophia.”
Her name sounded so beautiful tripping from his tongue. She savored his sweet utterance, committing it to memory.
Like mountaineers scaling Mount Everest, they climbed the peak of passion together. Higher, harder, faster their need escalated as they drank thirstily from each other’s parched lips.
Mike eased her backward as if they were dancing until he pressed her securely against the wall. His tongue plunged deep, exploring the cave of her mouth, while his hand still tenderly massaged her breasts.
Sophia never fought, never argued with his trespass. She allowed him full entry, courted his deep-throated kiss.
Day was night. Night was day. She lost all sense of time, all reason or rhyme. Nothing mattered but him. His touch. His smell. His taste.
His head descended, low, then lower still. A hundred kisses fell from his lips to her chin, her neck, the hollow of her throat and beyond.
The next thing she knew he had dropped to his knees and was eye level with her chest.
Sophia gasped when she realized his intention
. Groaning, she arched her back and splayed her palms against the cool tile walls.
His tongue, hot and wet, flicked tantalizingly over her straining pink buds.
His actions sent daggers stabbing into her groin, increasing her delicious agony. Inside, she grew damp.
Sophia caught a glimpse of their reflection in the window. She was writhing against the wall, her blouse hanging open, Mike on his knees suckling at her breast.
What would Jannette say if she could see her daughter now? The thought grabbed Sophia and shook her. How many years had Jannette preached against such behavior? How often had she been warned that the price of runaway lust was simply too high to pay.
Oh, dear, what was she doing? She had to stop this now, before there was no turning back.
But the impulse to cease her activities came and went unheeded. The pleasure was simply too great to be denied. It was as if Sophia were glued to that wall, helpless to move or change the course of her destiny.
Instead, she peered down at the top of Mike’s head. His hair was so thick and brown, like a field of chocolate. Reaching out, she threaded her fingers in it.
She laughed with the joy.
All these years this is what she had been missing by holding herself back, remaining wary, honoring Jannette’s experiences and making them her own. She had been wrong and foolish.
Sophia closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
“Oh, Michael.” She sighed. “That feels so good.”
As if he’d been doused with ice water, Mike instantly ceased what he was doing.
“I’m Mike,” he said coldly, pulling back from her and staggering to his feet.
Sophia’s eyes flew open. “Oh, Mike, I’m sorry. I...” She reached out to him, but he shunned her.
“No need to explain. I know Barrington is the one you were fantasizing about.” Mike looked hurt. Wounded. “The one you really want.”
“That’s not true!” she denied.
“Oh, spare me.” Mike’s chest rose and fell angrily. “No matter how much you might want to make love to me, you can’t get over Michael Barrington’s checkbook, can you?”
Tears stung her eyes. Blindly Sophia fumbled with the buttons on her blouse.
I Married the Boss! Page 7
