Beguiling the Boss

by Joan Hohl

  “We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other,” he said, his arms tightening possessively.

  “Marsh, please, you’re hurting me.” It was a blatant lie. While she was afraid, she wasn’t afraid of him. What he was really doing was exciting her to the point where she feared she’d give him anything he asked of her.

  “I’ve never deliberately hurt a woman in my life.” His voice was now cold, his expression colder. His arms dropped away from her as he backed down the stairs to the foyer.

  Reflexively, Jen reached out a hand, as if to stop his retreat. “Marsh, please.” She wet her lips, shivering as she saw his narrowed eyes follow the path of her tongue. “It’s too soon. I need time. As I told you before, it’s been a long time since I’ve… Well, I’ve never experienced anything like what happened last night. It’s a lot to process.”

  His cold expression shifted, giving way to warmth. “We do very well together, Jennifer.” He smiled. “During the day and at night.”

  Jen bit her lip to keep from returning his smile. She was raking her mind for something coherent to say when he saved her from herself.

  “Do you want to be courted?”

  “Courted?” Jen blinked.

  “Yes,” he said, dead seriously. “You know, do things together besides sit across the table from each other at mealtimes.”

  “You mean like going riding and having dinner dates?” she asked.

  “Sure, why not?” He smiled. “What do you enjoy doing in your free time besides reading?”

  “You already know I like to ride.” He nodded. “Well, I also like to play tennis and swim, and…” She grinned. “I like going shopping.”

  He gave her a wry look. “I’ll ride with you. I’ll play tennis with you. I’ll swim with you. We can go out to dinner, maybe even a movie now and again, but I draw the line at shopping.”

  She laughed. “Okay.” She arched one brow. “But you’ll still be the boss.”

  Smiling, he arched a brow right back at her. “During working hours, of course.”

  Jen nodded agreement. “Of course.”

  “But understand one thing, Jennifer,” he went on, his voice now serious. “I fully intend to continue asking you to marry me until you say yes.”

  Jen froze. She should have known he was being too easy to get along with. Her silence must have warned him she was about to protest because he went still, too, his gaze hard on hers.

  “I promise I won’t force the issue.”

  “Okay,” she said uncertainly.

  “Now, promise you won’t bolt to your car the minute I go into my office?” His voice was now a combination of suspicion and amusement.

  Deciding the man was capable of driving a woman to drink—or dive straight into his arms—Jen nodded, lifted her hand to cross her heart with her forefinger and said, “I promise.” She let a moment pass before adding, “I couldn’t anyway. Most of my clothes are in your washer and dryer. But,” she said as he turned to go, forcing him to turn back around, “I won’t sleep with you at your beck and call.” She hesitated a brief moment then added, “But I might, if I’m in the mood.”

  For a moment Marsh simply stared at her, then, surprising her, he agreed. “In that regard, you’re the boss, and you’ll call the shots.”

  Staring at him in wonder, Jen said, “Okay. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. You know what?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re cute when you’re confused.” Shaking his head he turned and walked back into his office, laughing. The echo of his bone-melting laughter lingered in her mind long after he had closed the door to his office.

  Jennifer heaved a deep sigh. It simply wasn’t fair for one man to be so damn attractive in so damn many ways. Of course, she knew she couldn’t accept his proposal, such as it was. But it should be interesting to be “courted” by him.

  Temptation whispered in the back of her mind: grab him while his offer stands.

  Was she nuts? Possibly sharing his bed on occasion was one thing, but marriage? Shaking the very idea out of her head, Jen resumed climbing the stairs, and decided she’d stay upstairs—away from Marsh—for a while. Her heart was still pounding wildly and she wasn’t quite sure she trusted herself around the man. She grabbed her book and sat, determined to keep any and all thoughts of Marsh from her mind by losing herself in the trials and tribulations of someone else’s life for a while.

  The story, a contemporary romance written by one of her favorite authors, immediately grabbed her attention. Within a few minutes, Jen’s imagination slipped her into the role of heroine. It didn’t take many pages, which Jen turned with increasing speed, before it became obvious the author was adeptly maneuvering the protagonists into a love scene.

  What had started out with ever-increasing sensual banter quickly became heated. Without realizing it, Jen’s body had grown taut, her breathing quick and shallow.

  She turned a page and—

  Her cell phone rang. Startled out of the hot and heavy scene, Jen muttered a curse and turned the book page down before answering the call.

  “Jennifer, why haven’t you come home for a visit, or at least called me?” Celia demanded imperiously.

  At the sound of her mother’s voice, an image flashed into Jen’s mind of her mother in the throes of sex with a man who was not her husband. Would that awful image haunt her for the rest of her life? She dreaded the very idea.

  Drawing a deep breath, she pushed the image aside. “I’ve been busy, Mother,” she said, her voice a hair above a tremor. Her mother didn’t seem to notice her distress. Of course, she thought, that was exactly like her mother.

  “Surely you get weekends off,” Celia snapped back. “He can’t work you seven days a week.”

  He might try. Jen smiled at the very idea. “Of course not,” she said. “This past weekend I drove to San Antonio to do some shopping.”

  “And last weekend and the weekend before that?” Celia’s tone held a pout.

  “Mother,” she began, smothering an impatient sigh. That’s as far as she got.

  “Well, you absolutely must come home next weekend.” Not a request, a command.

  Indeed? Jen’s eyebrows arched. “Why?” she asked, too politely.

  “Don’t you dare take that tone with me, Jennifer.” Celia sounded on the verge of losing it. “The Terrells’ Halloween masked ball is next Saturday, and as you are well aware, we always attend.”

  Oh, well then, why didn’t you tell me at once? I wouldn’t dream of missing the Terrells’ annual Halloween romp, Jen thought, her lips curling into a grimace. William Terrell—not Bill, never Bill, but always William—was the man in bed with her mother that awful night. His wife, Annette, was the woman with Jen’s father.

  “Mother, you know I have never cared for that party,” she said, forcing herself to remain calm. “And I wasn’t planning to attend this year. I’m not sure if I can make—”

  “You will be here,” her mother insisted. “For heaven’s sake, Jen, all your friends will be there. They will be expecting to see you there, as well.”

  “Mother, I have been corresponding with my friends ever since I arrived here. I know for a fact that none of my gang is attending the party—they haven’t in years,” she said. “As a matter of fact, they feel as I do about it.”

  “And that is?” Celia asked.

  “That we’re past it. Our lives have gone in different directions. If you’ll recall, the girls who always attend are no longer my friends. And they’re still into the social scene. I’ve attended the Terrells’ party because they are your closest friends.” She nearly choked on the word friends.

  “But—”

  Jen quickly cut her off. “My true friends were never part of the social scene. All of us are into a different lifestyle.” She gave a soft chuckle. “We work. We enjoy working.”

  “But if you come home, you would still be able to see them,” Celia said. “I could arrange something.”

  Celia cou
ld be very convincing when she wanted to be. Even though Jen had kept in touch with her friends online, it was never the same as being in their company. It would be fun to see them. Until that moment, she didn’t realize how very much she had been missing them.

  And getting away from Marsh right now couldn’t hurt, given the way he was making her feel. Which was, basically, turned on. Constantly. Which led her to think about dangerous things, like marrying him.

  Going home for a visit would give her some serious thinking time.

  “Okay,” she capitulated, “but I won’t stay long.”

  “Come for lunch,” Celia said, adding before Jen could refuse, “I’ll invite your ‘gang,’ as you insist on referring to them, to join us.”

  Jen made a face at the condescending inflection her mother had used with the word gang. Though she knew her mother held no animosity toward her friends, Celia still considered them beneath Jen. “What time?” she asked, suddenly tired and wanting the conversation to be over.

  “Well,” Celia now said with brisk satisfaction, “come early, but I’ll invite the girls for one. Will that be all right with your schedule?”

  “Yes, Mother.” Jen gritted her teeth.

  “Oh, and don’t forget a costume.” With that, her mother disconnected.

  Great, Jen thought, resisting an urge to throw the phone across the room. A costume. She had forgotten the costume part of the stupid gala. She’d have to run into Dallas early, or possibly Friday evening, to pick up something suitable.

  Maybe she’d go as a sexy vampire with long pointed teeth. That ought to make an impression.

  The only question now was, how would Marsh react when she told him she was going home for a visit?

  Or maybe the real question was, how would she feel being away from him for a few days?

  She didn’t like the answer she came up with…not one little bit.

  Eight

  Marsh began his courting campaign first thing on Monday morning, making Jen nervous before she’d even had her coffee.

  Even at that early hour it was already warm outside and the weather forecast was for the temperature to rise into the eighties by the afternoon. After breakfast he said, “How about a game of tennis followed by a swim?”

  Jen was struck dumb for an instant. Marsh always went directly to work after breakfast. She had never dreamed that this whole courting thing meant he’d actually take time out of his workday to spend with her.

  “I’d love it,” she said. “But we’ve got to—” That’s as far as she got before he cut her off.

  “We can work after we’ve had some exercise.” Taking her hand, he led her away from the table. “Let’s get changed.” Releasing her, he sprinted up the stairs. “Last one on the court’s a slowpoke.”

  “Hey, no fair,” Jen protested as she chased after him.

  To Jen’s surprise, Marsh played a mean game of tennis. He won, but she made him work for it. “You’re good,” she said, bent over with her hands on her knees, drawing in deep breaths of air. “Where did you learn to play like that?”

  Marsh was breathing every bit as heavily but he remained upright. “I was on the tennis team in college. You’re good, too.” He smiled at her. “For a few minutes there, I was afraid you’d beat me at my best sport.”

  Jen arched her brows in surprise. “You didn’t play football?”

  “Yeah, I did. But, after the first time I had my bell rung with a concussion I decided I liked tennis better.” He flashed a killer grin at her. “My daddy didn’t raise no fool.”

  From the court they went to the pool. Marsh stripped off his shirt and dove right in. Jen had pulled on a T-shirt and shorts over her bikini. Stepping out of the shorts and yanking the shirt off her sweaty body, she dove in after him.

  There was no contest this time—they simply swam together. Jen was reveling in the sensation of the water rippling over her heated flesh when suddenly she let out a yelped, “Wha—!”

  Marsh had dunked her.

  Sputtering, Jen came up from the water to the sound of Marsh’s laughter. She immediately retaliated. Jackknifing into a deep dive, she grasped his ankles and pulled his legs out from under him.

  When he surfaced, Jen was laughing. For a moment, she watched him warily, but relaxed when he grinned at her.

  “I deserved that,” he admitted.

  “Yes, you did,” she said, grinning back at him.

  “But I’ll get you back for it,” he teased. “Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but I will get you back for it.”

  That night, to her surprise, Jen slept alone. As much as she told herself she was glad Marsh hadn’t made as much as a suggestion that they share his bed, she didn’t sleep well.

  Dammit. Having decided she wouldn’t sleep with him again until she was certain of his true feelings for her, she expected she’d feel relieved that he hadn’t tried to seduce her. But all she felt was disappointment.

  On Tuesday afternoon, Marsh left his office two hours earlier than usual and, rapping on Jen’s door, ordered, “Pack it in, Jen, and go change into jeans and boots. We’re going to ride into the sunset together.”

  Opening her office door, Jen gave him a wry look. “Ride into the sunset together?”

  “Yeah, you’ve been buried every night in that romance novel,” he said, grinning. “I thought asking you to ride into the sunset with me would sound romantic to you.”

  “You are a complete nut,” she said, laughing at him.

  “Maybe so,” he drawled. “But I’m still the boss.”

  They actually did ride into the sunset. Standing side by side on the crest of a small hill, their mounts nibbling on the short grass nearby, Jen and Marsh watched the sun set the sky ablaze in breathtaking splashes of pink and streaks of lavender as it slowly disappeared in the distance.

  “Romantic?”

  Jen smiled at his hopeful tone. “Beautiful,” she answered.

  He took her hand, drawing her closer to him so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders. “What about now?”

  “Getting there,” she murmured, drawing in the scent of him, the very essence of him.

  Releasing her hand, he touched her cheek, drawing the tips of his fingers along her soft skin. She hitched a breath. At the soft sound, he lowered his head to brush his lips over her now trembling mouth.

  “And now?” His breath teased her lips.

  “Oh, yes.” Raising her hand to the back of his head she brought his mouth to hers.

  His kiss was sweet, gentle, wonderful for a full minute. Then, with a growl low in his throat, his desire took over.

  Jen clung to him, owning him with her fierce embrace. Her feelings were running rampant. It was so good, so exciting, it was almost scary. Jen half expected Marsh to lower her to the grassy knoll, take her right there with the rainbow of colors arching across the twilight sky.

  And she couldn’t have stopped him.

  But Cocoa and Star could.

  Jen pulled away from Marsh when Star gave her a strong nudge against her shoulder. At the same time she heard Marsh curse as he was nudged by Cocoa.

  “Unromantic beasts,” he muttered, giving the horses a gentle shove away from them.

  Jen couldn’t control the burst of laughter that poured from her throat.

  “Think it’s funny, do you?” Marsh made a good attempt at a scowl, then lost it to his own roar of laughter.

  “Yes, and so do you. And you were trying so hard, too.”

  “Trying?” One dark brow arched. “Trying?”

  Leaning into him, Jen kissed his whisker-roughened cheek. “Actually, you were doing very well.”

  He reached for her. She danced away to grab up Star’s reins. “Sunset’s over. I think it’s time to head back before it’s dark.”

  “You don’t need to be afraid of the dark,” Marsh said, swinging up and into Cocoa’s saddle as she mounted Star. “I’ll protect you.”

  “I’ll bet,” she answered. “If I let you, you’ll
protect me right out of my jeans.”

  “Boy,” Marsh said, in mock despair. “You are one very smart lady.”

  Jen laughed.

  Marsh laughed with her.

  By midweek, Jen could feel the changes occurring in their relationship. She was no longer wary of him, and she felt a closeness growing between them, a camaraderie.

  And now he was approaching her about spending the night together, yet Jen held him off. No matter how often he complained of being lonely in that big bed of his, she stuck to her determination and slept in her own bed…alone, missing his closeness, his warmth.

  As the days of the week slipped by, Jen knew she had to tell Marsh of her plans to drive to her parents’ home in Dallas on Friday night. She had put it off, somehow knowing he wasn’t going to be happy about her leaving. Thursday evening, Jen broached the subject after they had just finished a meal of salad and perfectly cooked steaks Marsh had made on the grill on the patio.

  “Why?” he asked, when she had finished.

  Why? Jen thought. “Why not?” she asked. They had spent most of the week together exclusively. Why shouldn’t she spend one weekend away from him?

  Marsh was getting to her—she was weakening toward his idea of them being together on a permanent basis. The realization was making her a bit edgy. Now, if he was going to start being possessive as well, she thought again that a little distance from him was a good idea.

  Oh, who was she kidding? Jen was afraid she was falling for him, getting in too deep. So she took refuge in a show of independence.

  She didn’t even try to soften the impatience in her tone. “My weekends are free, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, of course.” Marsh shook his head. “It just seems this came out of the blue. I was expecting to spend the weekend with you.” His voice took on an edge, one she didn’t particularly like. “Do you have plans or something?”

  “Yes, I have plans,” she said, surprised and annoyed by his manner. “On Saturday, I’m having lunch with several of my friends at my parents’ home. And I’m attending the Terrells’ party Saturday evening.”