Falling For Her Boss
Page 22
Zack kept his eyes closed, stealing a few more precious moments of peace.
***
Skye sank into the chair at the front desk and blew at her bangs. She'd done it--treated him exactly as she treated every client. But it had been a battle! When her hands touched his skin, his sinew, his taut strength.... She'd told herself she was simply having a chemical reaction. Yes, she was attracted to him physically. She'd be a fool not to admit it.
She was also old enough and wise enough at twenty six to know chemistry could be ignored, dismissed, or insignificant depending on a man's nature, attitude, or mindset. She was careful about the friends she chose. She was no less careful selecting men she spent time with. It was obvious Zachary Clark didn't have time to nurture himself, let alone a relationship.
Sighing, she pulled her appointment book to the front of the blotter. Hearing Zack's footfalls, she looked up to find him smiling at her.
"I feel great! I never thought I could feel so...calm."
He looked terrific. The lines on his face were less pronounced, his body stance not so tense. She knew posture wasn't his problem. His shoulders were broad, held straight so there was no slouch. So many tall men had never been taught how to stand properly to carry their height and weight. That wasn't Zack's problem. His situation was probably caused by spending too many hours in an inadequate chair while he hunched over his desk. Add daily stress...
"That calm is what you need heavy doses of." She took a business card from the top drawer and held it out to him. "This store sells office furniture designed by orthopaedic doctors and physical therapists. The chairs are made to support the back. What are you using now?"
He took the card and stopped to think. "Just a standard desk chair."
"Try several of these chairs and you'll find one perfect for you. You'll never want to sit in anything else." She ran her finger down the blocks on her appointment calendar. "I had a cancellation for Wednesday at three."
"I have a staff meeting at two thirty. You don't have anything Thursday?"
"No, I'm going out of town."
He frowned. "Wednesday it is."
"There are a few exercises I'd like to show you."
He pulled out his checkbook and tore out a check he'd apparently written beforehand. "I don't have the time now. Wednesday will be fine."
"Mr. Clark..."
He laid the check on the desk. "Chad's practice was over ten minutes ago. I have to run." Raising his hand in farewell, he said, "Thanks. I'll see you Wednesday."
Skye stared at the screen door as it slapped behind him. Zachary Clark might be one attractive, well built human specimen, but if he didn't soon make his own health a priority, his stiff neck might become a permanent part of his everyday life.
***
Tuesday afternoon, Zack wolfed down a sub at his desk while he examined the accountant's projected profits for April, May, and June. They looked good. He leaned back in his chair and smiled. And he felt good. Hardly any stiffness.
Wednesday's schedule stared up at him from his desk. He didn't have time for a massage tomorrow, and he didn't need it. His smile thinned to a frown. Yes, the massage had gone well. And he'd felt more relaxed than he'd ever felt in his life. Her hands were magic. But...
He didn't like the idea of becoming dependent on Skye Delaney. Everything about her seemed a little too magical. Especially the serenity that flowed from her. She moved...quietly. She talked slowly. Nothing about her rushed. Not even her smile. It settled on her mouth and bloomed, then lingered. More than once he'd wondered what those lips would taste like, whether or not she'd be so peaceful when aroused.
He reached for the phone to cancel his appointment.
By the time Zack left work and picked up Chad at a neighbor's, he was rubbing the back of his neck. By the time he tucked his son into bed, the nagging pain told him to reject the idea of balancing his checkbook at his desk. By the time he woke up Wednesday morning, he again could not turn his head far. But pride and determination kept him from calling Skye Delaney.
Until he sat in a straight backed chair through the staff meeting. Afterward he realized pride was an unworthy price to pay for discomfort. He dialed Skye's number.
The receptionist informed him Skye had left for the day. She would not give him Skye's home phone number but offered to call Skye at home and ask her to call him.
Impatient, Zack looked up Skye's name in the phone book. She wasn't listed. He had no choice but to wait and hope she hadn't left town yet.
When his secretary buzzed him, Zack snatched up the receiver.
"Mr. Clark? My receptionist said this was an emergency."
As before, her voice was friendly, soft and calm. Now that he had her on the phone, he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted. "I was hoping you had office hours this evening."
"Usually I do. But I'm leaving for Philadelphia tonight. In fact, I'm on my way out the door."
He wondered how he'd feel if a client delayed him from leaving on a business trip. "Uh, I'm sorry to hold you up, but I don't suppose you could give me a quick massage?"
He expected some type of eruption. He was met by silence. "Skye?"
"You're uncomfortable again."
He couldn't decipher the tone of her voice. Resigned was the only word he could think of to define it. "Yes. It's as bad as when I came in to see you." Plus, he now had a pounding headache.
"That's why I scheduled you for an appointment today. An appointment you cancelled."
Her reminder annoyed him. "You knew this would happen?"
"I told you you needed more than a massage. But you felt better so you decided you didn't need any of it."
"So sue me! I didn't realize--"
"Mr. Clark--"
"Zack," he snapped.
"Zack," she acknowledged, obviously to placate him. "I have to leave now because I'm picking up a colleagues in Lebanon. We'll have to check in at the hotel tonight and I hate to be the one to delay us all. I'm sorry but I can't give you a massage tonight."
She sounded as if she cared. But there was nothing she could do, and he wouldn't let her know the extent of his pain. "That's okay. I shouldn't have bothered you at home."
"Do you have a headache?"
Lying had never been his style. "Yes."
Silence again.
He ventured, "Will you have office hours Friday?"
"No. I won't get back until Friday around four." She paused. "But I'll make you a deal."
"What kind of deal?" he asked warily.
"I'll agree to schedule you for a massage Friday after I get back, if you promise to attend the workshop I'm giving Saturday morning on stress reduction and relaxation techniques."
"That's blackmail!"
"That's my offer. What will it be, Zack?"
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