Virgin's Dirty Boss

by Nicole Elliot

  Taking a deep breath, Scarlett plastered on a fake smile and said, “I seem to have forgotten his number, Dr. Weiss. Would you be able to get it for me?”

  The doctor agreed and left Scarlett to attend to his paperwork. Twenty minutes later, a nurse brought her a tray of bland hospital food and a slip of paper. “Here’s that number,” she said while drawing the bedside table forward for Scarlett.

  “Thank you.” Scarlett grimaced at the poached egg glaring balefully up at her, then turned her attention to the runny oatmeal and barely toasted toast. The nurse left, and Scarlett ate as much of the food as she could tolerate. Then, feeling nervous, she took the phone off the side of the railing and dialed Carter’s number from the slip of paper.

  Kent answered, and Scarlett told him she was being released. “I’ll send the car for you, madam,” was his rather uninterested reply. After hanging up, Scarlett rose from the bed on slightly shaky legs and hobbled her way to the closet where her t-shirt and shorts were neatly folded.

  It took some time to get dressed, as she had to sit on the bed for most of the process. Her ankle hurt too much to bear any weight, so she had barely finished dressing when Dr. Weiss returned with her discharge papers and a strange-looking contraption. “This is a brace,” he explained. “You’ll need to keep it on for at least a week, except for showering.”

  Scarlett wrinkled her nose when she saw the mass of purple and black bruising on her horribly swollen ankle after the doctor removed the bandages he’d placed on last night. He slid her foot into a shoe-type brace before bringing up the sides around her leg and fastening the Velcro straps to keep them in place. “When can I walk on it?”

  “Oh, I imagine you’ll feel up to walking in three or four days. If it hurts when you try, you aren’t ready. I want you to rest it completely for the next three days.”

  Scarlett nodded, accepting the papers from Dr. Weiss. He wanted to see her again in his office in a week, and Scarlett assumed Carter or Darren would know where to take her. She was ready to go when Darren arrived thirty minutes later. A nurse wheeled her out to the town car, and Darren lifted her inside. Scarlett told herself that sudden drop in her stomach was not disappointment when she realized Carter was not in the car with her. It was relief, she assured herself. Why would she want to see Carter?

  When they returned to the mansion, Darren carried her inside and left her in a small entertainment room. Scarlett flipped on the television, but quickly found it boring and soon switched it off again. She was twiddling her thumbs when Carter came in the room a short time later. “Hi.” She felt shy with him after last night’s talk.

  “How are you this morning?”

  “Much better, but I’m bored out of my mind. There’s nothing on television, and all my books are upstairs.”

  “I’ll get them for you before I go to my meeting.” She was surprised he offered to retrieve them himself. “Once I’m gone, if you need anything, please feel free to ask Darren or one of the other staff members.” His eye kept wandering to her legs, and Scarlett watched him with interest.

  What was it about him?

  Scarlett spent a boring day just lying around the entertainment room. Later in the afternoon, she had Darren carry her upstairs to her room, and a tray of food was brought up. After eating and taking a pill for the pain, she found the yawns increasing in frequency and turned in for an early night.

  Upon awaking the next morning, Scarlett hobbled into the bathroom and drew a tub of hot water. There was a tickle in her chest and her throat was sore, but she was not unduly concerned. She’d expected to catch some type of bug after being in the rain for several hours.

  The bath consumed a large portion of her time, but it was still only ten when Darren came across her trying to make it down the stairs. “Why didn’t you ring me?” He gently carried her down the stairs, into the breakfast room.

  “I didn’t want to disturb you,” said Scarlett as the maid came in the room to take their requests for breakfast. “Will Carter be joining us?” Scarlett inquired casually.

  Darren shrugged. “He usually does.”

  Scarlett peered behind her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t behind her. “Why am I here, Darren? What’s going on?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “That’s not my place to say, Scarlett. It’s between your father and the Carter.”

  “Don’t you think it concerns me too?” Scarlett frowned. “I’ve been signed over as collateral for six months, and I don’t even understand what’s going on.”

  “I can’t tell you anything except you wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t agreed to the deal.”

  “Well that isn’t any help, Darren.” Pursing her lips, Scarlett decided to try a different track. “How did you come to work for Carter?”

  “He saved my life.” Darren rose to help the maid as she returned with a large tray bearing their breakfast. “My motorcycle crashed, and he dragged me out of the wreckage seconds before it exploded.”

  “Oh so he’s a hero?”

  “I don’t think he would agree with you there.”

  “What’s the big secret?” Scarlett asked impatiently. “I’m just trying to find out a little background on my captor.”

  “Your captor?” Carter asked coolly from the doorway. “I thought I was the man who held the lien on you, but I guess captor works.”

  Scarlett frowned at him. “How long have you been lurking there?”

  “Long enough.” Carter walked farther into the room. “Darren, would you excuse us for a short time?”

  Without complaint, Darren gathered up his plate and left the room. A heavy silence descended behind Darren, and Scarlett swallowed. Her throat hurt, and she took a gulp of grape juice to relieve the pain, which had the added advantage of breaking their eye contact.

  Carter smiled, with just a hint of coldness in his eyes. “I’d appreciate you not grilling my employees for information about me. They are completely loyal, but it’s possible that someone as devious as you may be able to trip them up. I would hate to have to fire anyone over you.”

  “Devious?” Scarlett hissed in outrage. “I’m not devious, but I am in the dark. I was just trying to get a little background on you.”

  “My life and my past are none of your concern. You’ll mind your own business in this house, Ms. Terini. Perhaps it won’t hurt you to learn to respect others while you’re with us. Maybe I can send you back to that worthless rat-bastard a better person.”

  Scarlett blinked at the tears that suddenly filled her eyes. No one had ever spoken to her in such a hateful way before. “Why are you speaking to me like this? Where did you get the impression that I’m devious and have no respect for others?”

  “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Carter said cryptically. “I know you and your type, and I’ve never liked it. You’re a spoiled rich girl who’s always gotten her way, and you don’t know how to treat people who you feel are beneath you.”

  Shaking her head in confusion, Scarlett whispered, “That’s not true. I’m nice to everyone, except you,” she said with sudden spunk.

  “Yes, I’ll bet you’re real nice.” He snorted. “Tell me, have you ever given any of your old clothes away to the maids, or the servants’ children? I’ll bet you also make sure they get at least half a day off on Christmas, and one day off a week,” he said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

  Scarlett shifted uncomfortably. She did pass along her clothes to Marcia and the other staff, and she always tried to make sure they alternated who worked Christmas. He was making her good deeds sound selfish and unimportant. “What’s wrong with that?” Her chin inclined a notch.

  “Did it ever occur to you to make sure your maid had enough money to buy her own clothes, or even to ask her if she wanted your cast-offs? Did you ever think that your staff has a family and a life too, and they might not want to spend their holidays waiting on your family?”

  “Look at this house.” Scarlett swept a hand around. “It doesn’t run without
a large-sized staff either. Can you say that all of your servants have Christmas off?” she queried in a biting tone.

  “No, but when they are forced to work holidays, they’re allowed to participate in the festivities. Have you ever invited anyone in your father’s employ to join you for dinner?” Carter lifted brow his brow, his expression skeptical.

  Scarlett dropped her eyes, unable to say that she had.

  Carter’s voice returned to its normal cool drone. “I didn’t think so after seeing your surprise the night of your arrival when Darren joined us for dinner.”

  “So, I’m just shallow and spoiled?” Scarlett asked in a choked voice.

  “How can you be anything else when you are Rocco Terini’s daughter?”

  Scarlett nodded, folding her napkin in deliberate squares. “Will you please have Darren return me to my room?” She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

  He didn’t respond for a moment and she looked up at him, his eyes had softened but there was still anger beneath the surface.

  “I want to go to my room. I don’t want to sit down here with you anymore, don’t you see that? Or you can’t, because you’re so cruel?”

  The last line made him move. Darren appeared only a few moments later and helped her to her room where she found herself crying into her pillow.

  By the next morning, Scarlett was truly miserable. She’d spent the rest of yesterday in her room to avoid running into Carter. To her humiliation, his words had wounded her, and she’d spent an hour weeping over them. After the tears abated, she felt even worse, and her throat was so sore she couldn’t eat her dinner.

  Ann, the maid, whose name she finally asked, brought her another tray for breakfast, but Scarlett waved her out after asking for her to bring a glass of apple juice instead. She was huddled under the covers a few minutes later when there was a knock at her door. Carter entered imperiously without waiting for an invitation. “Listen, princess, Ann has better things to do than wait on you hand and foot. If you don’t want to eat what you’re offered, you can come downstairs and get it yourself.”

  “Get out of here,” Scarlett managed to croak out, keeping her back turned to him.

  “If you’re on a hunger strike, it won’t work,” Carter said blithely. “All you’ll do is lose your pretty figure and make yourself ill, but you won’t soften my attitude. Fits and tears won’t get you home any sooner.”

  Tears seeped from her eyes again, and Scarlett wondered why he was being so harsh with her. That night at the hospital, he’d been so kind to her, had even apologized for letting her get lost. Now he seemed determined to tear her down and hurt her at every opportunity. “I’m already sick,” she managed to force through her swollen throat.

  Carter’s mouth snapped shut, and he sat down on the bed beside her. She felt his presence but didn’t respond. He gently rolled her over to face him. Carter placed a hand on her forehead. “You’re warm. I’ll call Dr. Weiss,” he said in a gentler tone.

  6

  Carter

  Dr. Weiss examined her while Carter was waiting outside her room, pacing nervously. “How is she?”

  “It’s pneumonia, but a mild case. She’ll be fine, Mr. Braxton. I’ve left her some tablets, and she should recover in a few days. Just keep an eye on her fever. If it gets above one-hundred-and-three degrees, I want you to call me.”

  “You aren’t taking her to the hospital?”

  Dr. Weiss shook his head. “There’s no reason unless she worsens. She’ll be just as comfortable here at home. In fact, she begged me not to admit her.” He ignored Carter’s arguments, battling his way to the front door a short time later.

  His words played through Carter’s mind, and he laughed bitterly. Yes, Scarlett would probably be more comfortable at home, but she was here, in the house of her adversary, whether or not she realized Carter was her enemy. Shaking off his strange mood and his worry, he instructed Ann to keep a close eye on Scarlett, and closeted himself in the study for the rest of the afternoon.

  Later that evening Ann came downstairs. “She’s thrashing, and her fever is up, Mr. Braxton.”

  “How high?” He removed his reading glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose.

  “One-hundred-and-two, sir. Dr. Weiss left a page of instructions, but I’m concerned.” Ann wrung her hands helplessly.

  He took the stairs two at a time. Why hadn’t he checked on her sooner? Scarlett was lying in the bed, her face flushed and sweaty. He looked at his watch, realizing Ann had already stayed on an hour past her shift. “You can go home. I’ll deal with this.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Ann nodded her head and left the room as Carter returned his attention to Scarlett.

  She was sweating and had soaked through her thin cotton nightshirt. Carter read the instructions Dr. Weiss had left, deciding a tepid bath was in order. He left the water running and returned to the bedroom. With a determined expression, he stripped the gown from her body and forced himself to ignore the tempting flesh displayed underneath.

  He knew Scarlett would be furious with him when she regained her senses, but there was no other choice. He lifted her from the bed and carefully carried her into the bathroom. Her skin was silky against his, even with the sweat beaded on her forehead.

  After sponging her in the cooling water for half an hour, Carter took her temperature again, pleased to see it had fallen by a degree.

  Gratefully, he laid her on the bed and rummaged in the dresser until he found a pink cotton nightgown, which he slipped over her head. He tucked her under the covers and sat with her until her eyes opened a few hours later.

  “Carter,” she said in a soft, dreamy voice. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes shone from fever, but for just a moment, he allowed himself to pretend it was desire that had wrought the change. He wanted to lean forward and kiss her sweetly pouting lips, but restrained himself.

  “Yes, Scarlett?”

  “I don’t feel well. Can I have some water?” As a result of the inflammation, her voice held a smoky, seductive note.

  Resisting its siren song, knowing it was the illness that made her sound so sexy, Carter rose to his feet to bring her a glass of water from the bathroom. He supported her as she drank from the cup, and when he set it aside, his face was inches from her own. He stared into her fascinating purple eyes and grew hard with desire. He hadn’t held a woman for over a year, and none of the women in recent years had ever been this tempting. “Scarlett,” he said, clearing his throat.

  She closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his, moaning low in her throat. “Carter,” she whispered against his lips.

  He pulled away from her as she fell back to sleep. This wasn’t real, it was just the fever.

  None of this was real.

  It couldn’t be.

  This was a business arrangement, nothing more.

  7

  Scarlett

  For three days, Scarlett stayed in her room, recovering from her illness and dealing with the humiliation of kissing Carter. She still did not understand why she’d done such an impulsive, stupid thing, and was perfectly willing to chalk it up to her weakened state.

  Carter had made a point of avoiding her for the past three days, and Ann had been her only companion, bringing her meals and taking care of her. She protested when she came in to find Scarlett dressed and walking to the door. “I’m much better now,” Scarlett said in a still-scratchy voice. In truth, her ankle hurt more than her throat, and though she felt slightly light-headed, she needed to escape the room for a while.

  Ann hovered behind her as Scarlett limped down the stairs and into the breakfast room. She left to bring in the food, and Scarlett was sitting in silence when Darren joined her a few minutes later. “Morning,” she said with a ghostly smile.

  “You’re up,” he said with some surprise. “Are you sure you feel like—”

  Scarlett waved her hand, “Yes, I’m much better, and so is my ankle. I’ll be taking this thing off in the next couple of days
.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Darren said, looking pensive. “Uh, Carter hasn’t been in a good mood the last three days,” he said abruptly.

  “Really?” Scarlett inquired in a cool tone as Ann placed a steaming bowl of oatmeal before her. “Maybe he was deathly concerned over my illness. He wouldn’t want to lose such a large investment,” she mocked.

  “I was just warning you,” Darren said and turned his attention to the food. They were eating in silence when Carter came striding in.

  Scarlett didn’t look up from her oatmeal, but noticed the room temperature seemed to drop. She forced the ball of paste down her throat and sipped at her juice before finally lifting her head. “Good morning,” she said stiffly.

  Carter ignored her greeting, and Darren’s as well, as he took a seat at the head of the table. Ann bustled in with a tray for him, and they maintained an uneasy silence. Darren finished his meal quickly and left them with a nod. The room grew even colder.

  “Feeling better?” Carter sounded disinterested in her reply, making it plain he only inquired because it was expected.

  “Yes, thank you.” She strove to match his distant tone.

  “We need to get something straight.”

  Scarlett lowered her spoon and looked at him. “What’s that?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  “You can’t soften me up.” He glared at her.

  “Excuse me?” Scarlett inquired, but she knew he was referring to the kiss.

  “You heard me,” he bit out. “I don’t know what kind of scheme you hatched with your father, but I’m not relenting, and I’m not relinquishing my claim to the house.”

  “I never thought you would be so kind,” Scarlett said blandly.

  Carter snorted. “Of course not. You just decided to kiss me for other reasons,” he mocked. “I suppose you fancy yourself as Beauty?”