His Secretary's Little Secret

by Catherine Mann

  “Easton,” Portia’s voice jolted him out of his fog. “What did he mean by invention?”

  “Oh—” he shrugged “—it’s nothing.”

  “Clearly, it’s something—” she paused to sit upright again “—if it added to your family’s financial portfolio.” She held up a hand. “Wait. Forget I said that.”

  “Why? I encouraged questions today. Quiz Show, remember? The more outrageous the better.”

  “Most people find it rude to ask about another person’s finances.”

  “That’s not really a secret. And as for my invention...” He shot her a sidelong glance, trying to get a read on her. Truthfully, he felt exposed, talking about this aspect of his work. This idea felt more personal than any bank balance. “It’s... I created a shunt to go into the liver duct. It opens and closes in a way that enables multiple testing of a sick animal without multiple sticks.”

  A smile warmed her face, nose crinkling. “That’s really amazing and compassionate.”

  Eyes back on the road. He changed lanes, sunlight streaming into the car. “The animals I take care of, they’re my kids.”

  “Until you have children of your own.”

  He shook his head. “I’m not going to have them.”

  “But you’re so great with Rose, I never would have guessed you don’t like kids.” Shock entered her tone, and Portia cocked her head to the side.

  “I do like them. I just don’t plan to have any of my own. I’m crummy father material. Too devoted to the job. I expected you of all people to understand that.”

  She smiled quickly, fidgeting. What had he said wrong?

  “You do work long hours,” she said simply.

  He needed to get this conversation back on track. Heat filled him as he remembered his reason for this little outing in the first place—to romance her—to woo her. To get her back into his bed. “We have spent many, many hours together.”

  And he hoped to spend many more in a nonbusiness capacity, sooner rather than later. In fact, there was no moment like the present. The accident left him wanting to seize the day. Talk of the invention nudged him to take things in a new direction with Portia.

  He eased the vintage car over to the shoulder of the road and turned off the car.

  Portia looked around, confused. “What are you doing? Is something wrong with the Corvette?” She fished in her purse and pulled out her phone. “I’ll look up the number for auto service—”

  “Portia?” He started to lean toward her.

  “Yes,” she answered without looking up from her phone.

  “Stop talking.” He cupped her face in his hands and pressed his mouth to hers.

  Four

  The taste of Easton tantalized her senses, intoxicating and arousing. This was what she’d been trying to forget from their passionate encounter the night of the tropical storm. A night she hadn’t spoken of since then, except in vague references, but a night that had filled her dreams more often than not.

  His hand palmed her back and drew her closer until they were chest to chest. Her swollen breasts were especially sensitive and felt the contact all the more acutely. With a will of their own, her fingers crawled up his hard muscled arms to grip his wide shoulders. She wriggled to get closer, her mouth opening wider to take the bold sweep and thrust of his tongue.

  Warping her away from reality, the kiss unlocked Portia, electric sensations enlivening her awareness. Her normal laundry list of concerns were rinsed from her mind. Instead, she solely focused on the curve of his lips, his deepening kiss, the sweep of his tongue and the stroke of his hands. He pulled her closer, lifting her out of her seat and into his lap. Holding her in his broad arms, the scent of his amber aftershave mixing with faint sounds of ocean waves crashing to shore. Her fingers wandered into his long hair, silky beneath them and she relished every moment of making an even bigger mess of his normally tousled mane.

  She’d slept with him—albeit a hurried encounter. Still, she knew the full extent of his appeal, and so she couldn’t figure out why a simple kiss could turn her so inside out. Okay, not a simple kiss because nothing with Easton was ever uncomplicated.

  Still, she knew the risks of getting too emotionally involved, of depending too heavily on a man. How could her body betray her so, especially after what he’d said about not wanting children? As quickly as that thought hit her she shut it down again. She’d ached to be in his arms again for so long she was a total puddle of hormones in need of an outlet.

  In need of him.

  Now.

  His lips moved from her mouth to her jawline to her neck, until her head fell back to give him unfettered access as she reveled in his hungered frenzy. Back resting against the steering wheel, she slipped slightly, the car horn wailing into the moment. Snapping her into the present. Back to the fact that they were on the side of the road and not anywhere private enough for the thoughts shooting through her mind.

  As the car horn died, they both winced, a laugh emerging from Easton. He brought his hands to his face, running them through his dark thick hair. Returning to her seat, she laughed too, watching the way his hair fell back into a sexy disheveled mess.

  A smile still playing on his lips, he clicked the keys into place, engine warming back up. He steered the yellow Corvette back onto the road, and she settled deeper into the plush leather seat, warmed by their shared exchange of heated breath and hotter skin even as her worries returned.

  A calm silence descended, broken only by the slight rustle of tires on gradient pavement.

  An unquenchable need to understand what had just happened loosed her lips. “What made you do that?”

  Bright blue eyes met hers briefly before he returned his attention to the road. “Because we’re dating and you look incredible and I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Dating? This is one date. That’s all I agreed to, in case you’ve forgotten.” She felt the need to clarify, because the thought of more scared her. She couldn’t risk sliding into an emotional commitment of any kind, not with her and her brother’s future so uncertain, not with the secret still looming between her and Easton. This was about getting a sense of him for her child’s sake. Wasn’t it? Her baby had to come first.

  “One date? For today. If I’m not mistaken, you enjoyed that kiss as much as I did. Deny it. I dare you.”

  “What is this? High school? I’m not taking a dare.”

  He reached for her hand, the simple gesture sending pulses of interest through her body. Her stomach flipped, phantom traces of his lips echoing along her warming skin.

  Easton brought her hand to his lips, the five-o’clock shadow scratching her hand. Teasing. “Double dog dare you.”

  She choked on a laugh, but kept her hand in his. “That is so...silly.”

  “Yes, but you’re smiling. That’s as dazzling as kissing you.” He winked and grinned. “And make no mistake, kissing you, just looking at you, is mighty damn amazing.” His grin broadened.

  And stole her breath.

  Her guard was slipping too fast. He was clearly trying to draw her out, and he was succeeding. She needed to erect some boundaries. Fast.

  “You can be too charming for your own good sometimes.” Her grumble was only halfhearted, she knew. She turned to stare out her window at the dark plumes of violet-gray clouds in the distance. Chances were they would blow northward, but the unpredictability of storms in this state still made her nervous.

  “You say that as if it’s bad. I’m simply being honest with you.”

  “How about hush up and drive so we can enjoy the sunset.” Tugging her hand from his grasp, Portia leaned forward, watching the sun sink behind the whitecap crests. Easton’s declarations rocked her defenses and struck a nerve in her tender heart.

  “Can do.”

  The deep, dar
k clouds descended on the horizon, hungrily devouring the serenity of the sunset. Rain dripped onto the roof of the Corvette, faster and faster until the drops turned into a violent barrage of water.

  So much for that picture-perfect sunset.

  * * *

  The bad turn in the weather had literally and figuratively reduced their momentum.

  Easton gripped the Corvette’s steering wheel in tight hands. For the past two hours, the wall of tropical rain had brought traffic to a crawl. Red brake lights filled the road, their colors seeming to smear as the windshield wipers worked as a frenzied metronome.

  While this rain didn’t mount to tropical storm level, it was bad enough to back up traffic as people navigated slowly along the packed, narrow road. Many had just pulled off to the side. So many, in fact, the shoulder was lined with vehicles as tightly as the highway.

  Whatever electric moment that passed between them had fizzled, fading with each pelt of the rain.

  That could be due to the intensity of the storm. Portia’s eyes seemed heavy with inexplicable worry.

  From beneath his fingertips, he felt a tug on the low-slung Corvette’s steering wheel. A result of the piling rain and flooding streets. The tug shifted them slightly to the right, toward the shoulder of the road.

  Portia’s hand touched his arm, a gesture of reassurance. Her lilting voice contrasted against the harsh thunder. “This is almost as bad as the storm we drove in to rescue the Key deer that had been hit by a car.”

  He nodded, remembering well that night and how difficult it had been not to kiss away the tenderhearted tears she’d cried. Only the reminder that she was his secretary had kept him from acting on the moonlit impulse. “By the way, this rain is piling up and tugging on the steering—I think it might be slightly worse than the night with the Key deer.”

  “So more like the time we were transporting the pelican back from Pigeon Key?”

  Ah, he recalled that vividly too, how her hair had lifted with the crackle of electricity from the lightning, how his fingers had ached to stroke over the wispy, flyaway strands, how he had realized he was feeling more and more drawn to her the longer they worked together.

  So many experiences, long work nights, storms, had been shared between them. And now, another storm and more experiences brewed and crackled. The night she refused to address. That seemed to echo louder than the thunder.

  “I’d say so. I mean, just look outside the window, Portia. The water is building on the streets. I think a flood is imminent.”

  She peered out her window, lips pursing together. As lightening flashed in front of them, he recalled how electric their connection had been during the last tropical storm. The undeniable chemistry had sent them slinking into the bathroom together.

  He wanted to touch her like that again. To taste her. But his thoughts were interrupted by the extreme deluge. He could barely see the taillights in front of him.

  He had driven in worse when he had to, but right now he didn’t have to. They didn’t have to. It was more important to be safe.

  After the accident earlier today, he wasn’t taking any chances. He blipped on the turn signal, seeking shelter on the side of the road.

  She turned to him quickly, her lush brown ponytail bouncing, her eyebrows raised. “What are you doing?”

  “Pulling over. This is insane to keep driving.” He didn’t risk taking his eyes off the road as he steered into a tourist shop parking lot with dozens of other cars. “Any problems with that?”

  “You’re right. No need to risk us getting in another wreck. There are plenty of people who can take care of the animals.”

  “Maureen is definitely capable.” He pulled into an open spot and parked the car.

  “Then let’s stop for the night.” She leaned forward to pick up her purse from the floorboards. “I’ll start searching on my phone for a hotel.”

  “You have to know our chances of finding two rooms open are slim to none.”

  “I realize that.” She pulled out her cell, smiling smartly. “Luckily, you’re going to be fine with sleeping on the sofa.”

  * * *

  A tapestry of blues and oceanic greens flooded Portia’s vision when the door to the honeymoon suite—the only room available on such short notice—swung open.

  The Sheltered Crescent Inn sat twenty feet from the ocean, providing panoramic views of the storm. Flashes of pure white light made shadows dance across the room, revealing an array of coastal-themed decorations. Entering the room, a smile lifted Portia’s lips. The decorator seemed to have stuffed every free space with conch shells, sailboats and kitchy sayings about life being better at the beach.

  Shuffling over a kelp-green rug, she leaned against the solid tan couch, eyes drifting to the open door that led to a luxury bathroom, complete with a spa Jacuzzi built for two.

  Fresh-cut roses stood tall in a white vase on the driftwood coffee table. This, of course, was the most expensive room in the inn, and part of her felt bad about having to stay the night here, even though she knew money was no object for him.

  The other part of her desired this extra time with Easton. As if by staying in such close proximity, she’d figure out the right words to say to deliver her life-altering news.

  Turning her head, she surveyed his broad shoulders, the way his dark hair curled slightly. Ruggedly handsome with those bright blue eyes. His appeal, she tried to tell herself, had not motivated her decision to stay the night with him.

  A quick scan revealed a single king-size bed peeking out from the bedroom. But there was no second bed. Just the tan couch she leaned against.

  Easton’s voice rumbled, and she caught the scent of his spiced cologne as he moved past her to the minibar. “Can I get you something to drink? A snack?”

  “Just water for me, please.” She pulled her tablet from her purse, the fading, rain-drenched sun just barely reflecting off the screen. “We could work. I have my phone and tablet.”

  “Do you carry that with you everywhere?” he asked as he poured bottled water into two crystal goblets.

  “It’s a part of my life,” she answered defensively. “Organization is crucial.”

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean by that? It’s a positive trait.” Frowning, she tugged her ponytail tighter into the scrunchie. She’d been responsible for taking care of her brother when they lived with their mother and she’d found early on that it helped to make lists, to have everything laid out ahead of time, to leave as little as possible to chance.

  The crashing of waves echoed in the room blending with the tap-tap-tap of the smoldering storm. The deep sounds of thunder ebbed, becoming more and more distant.

  He passed her drink to her, their fingers brushing, static snapping like the lightning outside. “Crucial, though? Do you really believe it’s that important to be so regimented?”

  “Of course I do. It’s why you hired me.” She caught sight of her own reflection in the glass window. Her hair now perfectly coiffed in a ponytail, but her face bore the stamp of exhaustion she felt tugging at her more and more at the end of each day. “Why are you pushing the point now?”

  “Because I can’t figure you out.”

  “Well, the feeling is entirely mutual.”

  “How so? I’m an open book.”

  Sort of. And then not at all. “When I took this job, I expected a scientist would be more...scientific.”

  He clapped a hand to his broad chest. “Have I ever been anything other than effective at work?”

  “It’s not that. I just didn’t expect such a free spirit. Someone who doesn’t own a comb and climbs trees.” She couldn’t hold back her teasing smile even as she knew she was playing with fire by flirting with him.

  “I own a comb.”

  “Do you use it?” She crossed he
r arms, unable to resist teasing him.

  He smiled crookedly, lines of amusement fanning from his eyes into his tanned face.

  She nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

  He moved toward the radio, abandoning the work space. She moved past him, his body gently skirting hers, teasing her senses and awareness. Portia’s eyes narrowed, suspicious as she sat.

  She had to carefully construct her walls, to keep him out of her mind. It would be easy—far too easy—to become undone by his gaze. “Easton...”

  “What? We need to listen for weather alerts.” He stepped away from the radio. “And I don’t need a comb to organize my thoughts. As for organizing everything else, that’s what I hire you for. You’re stellar at your job, by the way, and I appreciate that more than I can say. I don’t want to lose you over...this,” he said, waving his hand between them, “either, so I’ve been taking things slow. But when I saw the look in your eyes after I fell out of that tree, I knew the waiting was over.” The corner of his mouth pulled upward, a cocky smile in place. He looked at her hungrily.

  “Oh really? This whole romance deal has been because in a weak moment I was actually worried about you?” She’d had no idea she was so transparent.

  To him at least.

  “Worried? I saw more than concern when you looked at me.” His sidelong glance unsettled her.

  And made her skin tingle with awareness.

  “Easton, is that ego heavy to carry around?”

  She tossed a sofa pillow at him. He easily deflected it with an arm.

  “Fair enough. Does it help if I say I’m incredibly attracted to you? Because I am.” He closed the distance between them, leaning on the other side of the couch. “You don’t believe me?”

  “I do—you’re just...over the top.”

  “I’m honest. Is that so difficult to believe?” He touched her chin and guided her face toward his. “You’re a beautiful woman. So lithe and elegant.”