“I think we both know you’re more than that,” she replied, her voice soft. “But the point is, I’m here if you need me.”
“I always need you,” he replied. “And not just because of my head.”
Those hazel eyes flicked to his before sliding away.
Knowing he had to be careful how far he pushed her, he added, “You could always try needing me, too.”
Her gaze flew back to his, eyes wide with that same longing he’d noticed before. His pulse sped up at the sight.
Lori opened her mouth but no sound came out.
She’s not sure what to do.
His assistant who always had an answer to everything. Except, it seemed, when it came to him.
Reaching out, he smoothed a flyaway strand of hair back behind her ear. “How do we adjust my office presence?” he asked, giving her a lifeline. Because while he may never have tried to get to know her before, he did now. And work was a safe haven for her.
Relief flooded her features. Clearing her throat, she said, “I need you to be…”
He waited.
“Colder,” she said.
Colder. Because I’m an uncaring ass and everyone knows it. “How?”
She was looking anywhere but at him. “Don’t take a personal interest in your employees. Don’t say good morning to anyone below the C-suite. Ignore the interns whenever they’re near you. And…”
“Go ahead,” he said when she hesitated. “Teach me how to be the bastard I used to be.”
“And ignore me, too,” she finished in a hushed tone.
The breath left him in a huff. “That’s why you keep running in the opposite direction,” he said, anger churning inside him. “Because I treated you like a convenience, right?”
“There are other factors here—”
“Bullshit. I hurt you, and now you don’t trust that I can be any different.”
“No,” she said, reaching out to him. “It’s not like that at all. We had a fine working relationship. You treated me the way any CEO would treat his staff. I don’t hold any of that against you.”
“But you should. If we worked together for years, I should have seen you the way I am now. I should have cared about you.”
A pained little laugh escaped her. “This is exactly what you can’t do. Jackson Sinclair can’t have a personality facelift in the middle of a corporate threat. You can’t be this new man.”
“A man who cares about those around him.”
“Exactly,” she said with a snap of her fingers. “You are a CEO people fear and revere. All you think about is business. All you want to discuss are numbers and strategy. Human relationships hold you back. Even you and your brother speak in short terms to save time.”
“Do you see why I take issue with you wanting this person back?”
She shook her head, exasperated. “It’s not what I want. It’s what we need to happen if we’re going to keep our cover.”
Not what she wants?
His gaze sharpened. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll be the perfect corporate bastard tomorrow. I’ll ignore you and treat you like a servant. But when we don’t have an audience, I refuse to act that way.”
“Jackson…”
He stepped closer. “Would you really want me to be the man you’re describing right now?”
Her eyes were conflicted as she stared up at him. “I should want that.”
“But you don’t.”
“No.” The word was barely a whisper. “I don’t.”
“Admit it,” he said, leaning closer. “You like the new me.”
She was a silent before her shoulders caved in defeat. “Too much.”
The confession burned through him. Every second of the day he felt like an inferior shadow of the man he’d once been.
But the only person he cared about liked him as he was. Damaged and all.
He pressed her back against the rail, bringing their bodies together.
“If it helps, I like you too much, too.”
…
That doesn’t help at all.
In fact, it made everything harder.
The heat of his body infiltrated her light sundress. The scent of his sandalwood-spiced skin wrapped around her, trapping her in the near darkness. If he were anyone else, she’d rise to her tiptoes and kiss him. She’d guide him backward onto the patio lounger and straddle his hips, freeing herself to touch him any way she wanted.
The scotch swirled in her head, whispering that her inhibitions were a mistake.
He doesn’t know the truth.
Does he need to? the liquor taunted.
If she was damned either way, couldn’t she enjoy her road to hell?
“You shouldn’t care about me,” she tried.
“Too late,” he said.
“You won’t later.”
He shrugged. “I might never remember who I was. Some people don’t.”
“That won’t be you.”
“Not even my billions can buy me a working brain.”
Unable to help herself, she cupped his face with her free hand. “Your brain is incredible, bruised or not. Just like you are.”
He leaned into her touch. “Not many women would say that.”
“To a gorgeous man as rich as Midas? I really bet they would.”
His grin was brief. “You’re wrong, you know. I might not know much, but I know the redhead in my phone wouldn’t have taken on an invalid the way you have.”
“You’re hardly an invalid.”
“But I’m not the man I once was. How many people do you think would forgive that?”
Only the ones who always wished you could be just a little different.
It was like the accident had woken up the person she’d been waiting to meet. The one she’d catch tantalizing glimpses of every now and then when the old Jackson would smile at her or reach over to help straighten her collar. One Christmas, he’d found a first edition, signed copy of her favorite childhood book and left it wrapped on her desk. They’d never spoken of it except for a cursory thank-you, but that present had meant the world to her.
And now the pendulum had swung the other way. The man she’d fantasized about had come to life before her eyes, but while he was far more tempting, he wasn’t complete, either.
If he can ever fully integrate the two sides of this life…
He’d be the man of her dreams.
But he’d be that man with the redhead or some other woman.
“At work I have to play a role,” he said.
“You’re doing it well.”
“I’m acting. Lying my way through the days.” He took her empty glass and set them both on the ground before coming back to her. “The only time I’m ever honest is with you.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m good at keeping secrets.”
“Couldn’t this be one more?” he asked, his gaze dropping to her lips. “No one has to know what goes on behind closed doors.”
“It’s not that easy.”
His hands wrapped around her waist. “Sweetheart, nothing is easier than desire.”
His mouth claimed hers before she could protest. With a groan, she tilted her head to give him a better angle, parting her lips beneath his. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. There was no denying the excitement that burned to life every time he touched her.
She slid her hands up his chest, taking pleasure in the hard muscle she could trace through his T-shirt. The man was far too tempting for his own good and he knew it.
“See? Simple,” he whispered against her lips, moving his mouth to run down her throat. “Do you like when I touch you?”
“Yes,” she breathed, unable to lie.
“Then just focus on that.” He left her neck to look into her eyes. “If any of this has taught me anything, it’s that we have no control.” A roguish grin curved his lips. “So let’s have no control together.”
“This is a bad idea.”
“I’ve made a fortune off good ones. I think
I’m owed a few poor choices.” He brushed the hair back from her face. “But for the record, I think you might be the best decision I’ve ever made.”
Her heart melted a little more.
Not mine to keep.
No, but he could be hers for now.
Her eyes fluttered shut as he kissed her again. No other man had ever felt so right in her arms. When he touched her, something clicked deep inside. Like he was a missing piece moving into place.
She’d thought leaving him before would rip her apart, but how much worse would it be now if she let this go on?
Finding her will, she pushed him back with both hands.
With a sigh, he let her move him. “Has the clock struck twelve?” he asked, no annoyance in his tone.
“We—”
“Can’t do this,” he finished for her. “See, there’s just one problem with that.”
“What?” she demanded.
Lightning quick, he darted forward to steal one last kiss. “We’re already doing it, sweetheart. And it feels pretty damn good.”
He swept the glasses up from the ground and headed back into the house, his steps smooth and unhurried.
Leaving her behind to stare after him, his taste still on her lips.
I’m in trouble here.
And her resolve was crumpling fast.
Chapter Twelve
“Where’s your secretary date?” Will asked.
Jackson ground his teeth. Around them, the medical benefit was in full swing. The massive hall was filled with the city’s richest and brightest, donating to support cutting-edge medical research.
He’d already handed over an impressive check Lori had assured him was mandatory.
The room was decorated with more twinkly lights than he’d ever seen outside of a Christmas display. White and silver lined each table, with a raised stage at the end of the room that he had no doubt would lead to tedious speeches at some point this evening.
“It’s not a date,” he said, mimicking the words Lori had repeated over and over. Not that he’d seen all that much of her today. She’d been avoiding him whenever she could, and it was beginning to wear on him.
What the hell am I missing when it comes to her?
A whole lot, apparently.
“She didn’t want to arrive with me,” he continued. “I’m sure she’ll be around here somewhere.”
Please, God, let her show up soon.
He glanced around. The cocktail hour was easy enough to bluff his way through since no one ever said much of anything important as far as he could tell. Tonight was just an excuse to let the elite pat themselves on the back and feel good about giving to the hospital.
But once they sat down to dinner, he was going to need his secret weapon.
Will whispered something in his date’s ear, causing her to let out an irritating giggle.
He did his best to ignore her. The woman might be gorgeous in her questionably plunging black gown, but she wasn’t the one he wanted to see.
Turning, he scanned the room, searching for a familiar hazel gaze, when his breath caught in his throat.
Lori had arrived.
She stood in the entrance, her hands folded into her skirt as if uncertain of her welcome. As he watched her, she threw back her shoulders and lifted her chin.
Ready to do battle.
They were ones he’d fight for her if she’d let him. But even after the little time she’d been in his life, he knew that wasn’t a request she was ever likely to make.
She stepped forward in higher heels than he’d ever seen her wear. Her body was draped in a deliciously clinging cerulean gown that hugged all his favorite curves. It was strapless, showing off her long neck that was unadorned in a sea of diamonds. Her hair was pulled back in a simple updo swept away from her face, and a little black clutch completed her outfit. She was both out of place and easily the most attractive woman in the room.
And she’s here with me.
He was moving before he even registered the impulse. Weaving his way through the crowd, he came up behind her. She glanced around, clearly searching for someone.
“Looking for me?” he breathed in her ear, running a light hand up her arm.
She twirled, bringing her a step closer. “Jackson,” she said.
“Expecting someone else?” he asked. “Did you line up a couple dates tonight?”
“One is about all I can handle,” she replied, her tone dry. “Sorry I’m late. Ran into a hair emergency.”
“You look beautiful,” he said honestly.
A rosy blush colored her cheeks. “Thanks.” She glanced away. “Should we find our seats?”
“We have a few minutes,” he said, lifting two glasses of champagne from the nearby waiter carrying a tray of them. He handed one to her before tapping the glass with his own. “Cheers.”
She hesitated a split second before raising it to her lips. “I was debating drinking,” she said. “But if I have to keep up with you tonight, I need all the liquid courage I can get.”
“I don’t know about that. You seem capable of taking out dragons all on your own.”
Despite his words, she tipped the flute to her lips and downed her champagne in a few gulps.
Watching in amusement, he held out his own glass to her before swapping out the empty glass for a new one with the server.
“Are you ready for this?” she asked as they walked forward into the crowd.
“We’ll be fine,” he replied. “I already checked the seat assignments. Will and his date are to your left. A man called Richard Lurig is to my right.”
She hissed. “Richard. I’ve never met him personally, but you’ve told me stories. Okay, let’s see. He’s a tech mogul. Designed some sort of app that skyrocketed. Cashed out high and now travels the word enjoying his wealth. I think you went to the Hamptons together last summer.”
“Hell,” he swore. “Then he knows me well.”
“Well enough that he’ll pick up on a missing memory.”
“Then we’ll have to be convincing.”
She nodded. “Clear your throat if you want me to jump in.”
He placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her toward their table. At first, she stiffened at the touch but it was only a few seconds before she was relaxing into his hold.
“I made something for you,” she whispered as they walked. Opening her clutch, she pulled out a small sheet of paper that she causally slipped into his suit pocket. “A cheat sheet of the most important names you’ll need tonight. Just in case.”
He bit back a smile. She’d spent hours with him drilling these names into his head. And yet, even after declaring him ready, she went out of her way to provide him with one more safety rope.
“You’re amazing,” he whispered into her ear.
She glanced up at him with her wide, deep gaze and something clenched in his chest.
I wish we were anywhere else.
If they didn’t have hundreds of eyes on them nothing would have stopped him from kissing her.
“Ah, you found her,” Will interrupted.
Blinking, he realized they’d made it all the way back to his table.
“Hello, everyone,” Lori said, smiling easily but he noted the strain around her mouth. She wasn’t looking forward to this any more than he was.
“I’m Mimi,” Will’s date said, holding out her hand to Lori.
“A pleasure,” his assistant murmured. “You look incredible.”
Not as incredible as you do.
But they were words he wasn’t allowed to say.
“You didn’t miss much,” Will said. “It’s been tedious already. What do you say? Drinking games throughout the speeches to keep us entertained?”
“Or we could be professional,” he said.
Will sighed. “Trust you to suck what little fun can be found out of a boring evening, Sinclair.”
“I seemed to have missed most of the cocktail hour,” Lori put in diplomatically. “Loo
ks like people are already finding their seats. Shall we?”
Mimi nodded, choosing the chair beside Lori.
She might be in for a long night.
Then again, so was he.
…
Lori fussed with the napkin on her lap just to have something to do. Around them, the table was beginning to fill. With each new arrival, she surreptitiously glanced at Jackson to see if he needed a name reminder. Each tiny shake of his head sent relief surging through her. Maybe they’d get away with this after all.
“So how long have you two been dating?” Mimi asked. She drained her drink and put her hand in the air, snapping her fingers until an annoyed waiter appeared to refresh it.
“Uh, we’re not dating. I’m here in a work capacity, that’s all.”
“That makes sense,” Mimi agreed.
Seriously? You couldn’t even wait till the first course to let your claws show?
She smiled tightly. “It must be a similar arrangement with you and Will, right?”
The blonde model jerked back so fast the new drink in her hand sloshed over the rim. “I’m his date,” she said. “We’ve been together for a while now.”
“Really? How long?”
Mimi glared daggers.
“I hear the chef tonight is spectacular,” she said, trying to change the subject. “We’re in for a treat.”
“Can’t wait,” Jackson said from her side, leaning closer. “The food is the best thing about these nights.”
“Do you come to these events often, Mr. Sinclair?” Mimi asked, leaning forward until little in her plunging dress was left to the imagination.
“A couple times a year,” he replied with the answer they’d prepped.
“This is the first time Will has brought me to one. Naughty boy. I’ll have to insist on more.”
“You do that,” Lori said. Because if Will was smart, he’d run in the opposite direction of this woman.
Is this what Jackson liked, too, before the accident? Vapid, superficial women who were drop-dead gorgeous?
Because if it was, she had nothing to offer. Mimi might just be searching for a meal ticket but there was no denying her perfect body or stunning face. Much like the redhead on Jackson’s phone.
You could never compete if he was the man he used to be.
The real Jackson wouldn’t look at her twice.
Giving Up the Boss Page 10
