Crave (Splendor Book 2)

by Janet Nissenson

  ISBN: 978-1-4835739-0-8

  This one is dedicated simply to the readers, because it is your kind words, support, and enjoyment that inspire me to keep on turning out these stories.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  January

  Tessa Lockwood couldn’t suppress the shiver of anticipation that rippled up her spine as she checked the time yet again. According to the very detailed schedule that her supervisor Andrew Doherty had left for her, he should be walking down the hallway towards his office any minute now. And one thing that she had learned from working here at the regional headquarters of the Gregson Hotel Group over the past two plus years was that Ian Gregson stuck to his regimented schedule faithfully. That plus the undeniable fact that he was the most gorgeous, compelling man she had ever seen. A man that she would be working with very closely for the next week, a circumstance that filled her with both delight and anxiety - the former because she’d developed quite a crush on her handsome boss over the last two years, and the latter because she was terrified he’d figure that out for himself sooner than later.

  When Andrew had rather matter-of-factly informed her that she would be filling in for him during his vacation, acting as Mr. Gregson’s Personal Assistant for an entire week, Tessa had stared at him in disbelief.

  “Excuse me. You want me to do what?” she’d asked in bewilderment.

  Andrew had sighed with barely concealed impatience. “You heard me. I’ll be out of the office the first week of January, and it’s been decided that you’ll be filling in for me during that time.”

  She had still not quite believed what she was hearing. “But you’ve never had me fill in for you before. It’s always been Marisol or Gina or sometimes Alicia. Even Kevin once or twice,” she’d pointed out, naming the other members of the management support team who worked alongside her.

  Andrew hadn’t been in an especially good mood that day, and had dismissed her concerns brusquely. “Well, consider this your turn. I assume you have no objections to the assignment?”

  “Oh, no. Of course not. I’d be honored to fill in for you, help out while you’re away. I just hope I don’t screw something up,” she’d confessed nervously.

  Andrew had given a roll of his eyes, which usually meant his patience was wearing extremely thin. “You’ll be fine. It’s not brain surgery, after all. And of course you’ll need to spend several days learning my routine and what will be expected of you.”

  That had been the understatement of the year. Tessa had been wide-eyed and slack-jawed, not to mention exhausted and emotionally drained, at the end of her week- long training session with Andrew. But at least spending so much time with him had greatly allayed her fears about working for Mr. Gregson, for she had realized that nothing about Andrew’s job was really all that difficult or complicated. And of course she’d took copious notes on top of the multi-paged and extremely detailed list of information Andrew had left for her. He had also warned her about not bothering Mr. Gregson with questions unless it was absolutely necessary.

  “Do not,” he’d warned her ominously, “ask him how his evening was, or what he had for lunch, or anything at all that doesn’t have to do with work. He’s not one for idle chatter, and sticks to his schedule religiously.”

  Mr. Gregson had still been away for the holidays, visiting his family in England, during her training period. In a way that had been a relief, for she’d been able to learn the ropes without the added pressure of his presence. But that state of affairs was about to end any minute now, and Tessa offered up a silent prayer that she wouldn’t make a fool of herself within the first hour. Or answer his phone with the wrong greeting. Or stare at him like some love-struck teenager whenever she was in his presence.

  But stare was exactly what she did as she glanced up and saw Mr. Gregson striding down the long hallway towards his office. His expansive office suite, complete with its own bathroom, was located somewhat apart from the rest of the offices on this floor, offering him a great deal of privacy. Andrew’s desk and attached computer workstation, the one that Tessa was currently occupying, was set up just outside of the wide double doors that led to Mr. Gregson’s inner sanctum, and offered up an unobstructed view of anyone who might be walking down the hallway.

  She thought distractedly that perhaps she ought to stand up to greet Mr. Gregson as he arrived, but quickly dismissed that idea when she realized how badly her legs were shaking. Instead, she fixed a bright, welcoming smile on her face as he drew nearer, and willed herself not to drool at the sight of the truly - well, swoonworthy - male specimen who strode down the hallway in his usual brisk, authoritative manner. He’d been out of the office for two full weeks, and somehow seemed a little bit taller to her, his shoulders a bit broader, and his features even more handsome. He was wearing one of his many suits, all of them impeccably tailored to fit his powerful body, and each one undoubtedly costing the earth. Today’s was a navy pinstripe, paired with a conservatively patterned silk tie of blues and grays, and the dark color flattered his midnight hair and lightly tanned skin.

  And despite her resolve not to drool, Tessa was very much afraid that she was about to do just that - especially when Mr. Gregson stopped in his tracks a few feet in front of her desk and smiled at her in a way that he’d never, ever done before. Tessa could only stare up at him, dumbfounded and definitely spellbound by the expression in his hazel eyes.

  “Now this,” said Ian in a lightly teasing voice, “is definitely a sight I could get used to starting my day with. Forgive me for saying so, Tessa, but you look far more appealing sitting behind that desk than Andrew ever has. Though,” he added with a wink, “you have to promise never to tell him I said so.”

  She couldn’t help herself from returning his smile, even giggling a bit as she assured him, “It will be our secret, sir. And, um, good - good morning. Welcome back.”

  His smile deepened. “Thank you, Tessa. And I have a feeling that it’s going to be a very good morning. A whole week of good mornings, in fact. I just hope that Andrew hasn’t put the fear of God in you about making a mistake or two along the way. In spite of what he might have told you, I don’t eat PA’s for breakfast.”

  This time her giggle turned into a full blown laugh. “He was, ah, very thorough in his training, Mr. Gregson. And I promise I’ll try very, very hard to live up to all of his expectations.”

  Ian rolled his eyes. “That might be an impossible task, Tessa. I’m not at all sure that I live up to his expectations half the time. Relax, hmm?” he added in a gentle voice. “You’re going to do a fine job, I just know it. I have a feeling that you and I are going to work together very, very well.”

  She nodded, rising slowly from her chair as she felt a warm glow spread throughout her body at his words. “Can I take your coat for you, Mr. Gregson?” she offered, rather belatedly having noticed the wool garment he had draped over his arm.

  As she rounded the corner of the desk to take th
e coat from his outstretched arm, Tessa’s cheeks flushed a bit as she noticed the way his gaze raked over her body in a quick, assessing manner. She was glad that she’d taken some extra pains with her appearance this morning, having been determined to look her very best. She wore the black wool pencil skirt that had been bought at a consignment shop back in Tucson, where she’d lived prior to moving to San Francisco two and a half years ago. She had worn the skirt many times since then, but the high quality of the fabric had stood the test of time and looked every bit as good now as it had when she’d first purchased it. This morning she had teamed it with an ivory sweater in a soft fabric that looked like cashmere but hadn’t cost nearly as much. Following the advice of her friend Julia - who was an avowed fashionista - Tessa had picked up a few inexpensive accessories at discount chains like H&M, including the pretty gold necklace with its faux pearl and diamond pendant and matching pair of drop earrings. Both pieces had cost barely ten dollars, good news for the extremely tight budget she lived on these days, a budget that would become even leaner once the lease on her apartment was up in April. Her soon-to-be ex-husband - Peter - had been depositing a little money into her checking account each month since they’d separated last September to help with the rent, but Tessa knew that would end in a few more months. And, thus far, she hadn’t wanted to think about the monumental task of finding another - and affordable - place to live. Dealing with the painful separation, and learning how to depend solely on herself, had been more than enough to cope with these past few months.

  Ian’s warm gaze seemed to linger on the long blonde curls that fell loosely over her shoulders and reached more than halfway down her back. It had been a long time since she’d had her hair trimmed, and more often than not these days she pulled it back into a loose knot at her nape or a sleek ponytail. But she hadn’t wanted to take the time to fuss with her hair this morning, too anxious about arriving at the office even earlier than she usually did so that she could go over the copious list of notes Andrew had left her one more time.

  Ian lifted a hand, and for a split second Tessa could have sworn he was about to reach out and touch one of her long blonde curls. Instead, he merely handed her the aforementioned coat and gave her another of those dazzling smiles.

  “Thank you, Tessa,” he told her warmly, leaving her to ponder yet again how much his treatment of her had changed seemingly overnight.

  In the two plus years she’d been working on his management support team, Mr. Gregson had barely spared her a glance most of the time, and had always been aloof and reserved, if not downright cool and distant. But ever since the night of the office holiday party a few weeks ago - the night she’d finally told both him and Andrew about her impending divorce - Mr. Gregson had been, well - different. When he had passed her in the hallway, for example, he’d gone out of his way to ask about her wellbeing. And there had been at least a couple of times when he had asked to see her in his office so that he could explain a specific assignment he wanted her to handle for him. The latter in particular had startled Tessa, for up until now Andrew had always been the one to assign all of the various tasks to her and the rest of the support team. It was most unusual for Mr. Gregson to take such a responsibility upon himself, but Tessa hadn’t dared to question him on it. Especially since it had presented her with a rare opportunity to spend a few minutes alone with him, to inhale the discreet, thoroughly masculine scent that she would always recognize as belonging solely to him, and to steal frequent, furtive glances from beneath her lashes at the devastatingly handsome man who nearly made her swoon just from being in the same room.

  That same scent wafted up to subtly tease her nostrils as she hung his elegant black wool overcoat in the small closet located to the left of her desk. She couldn’t resist brushing her palm briefly over the soft fabric, or taking a quick peek at the label. It was a Burberry, and even someone like her who knew next to nothing about fashion and designers realized that particular name meant both quality and money. The heavy wool garment made her own beige trench coat - the one she’d bought at a thrift store soon after moving to San Francisco from Arizona - seem even cheaper and well worn than it usually did as it hung next to his much nicer one.

  Mr. Gregson was already in his office, unpacking his leather briefcase and powering up his computer, when she ventured inside. He glanced up at her with another of those knee-weakening smiles, and she had to force herself not to stammer as she asked if he wanted a cup of tea.

  “I would love a cup of tea, Tessa,” he told her warmly. “Especially the way you make it. I was just telling my parents’housekeeper - who’s been with them for ages - that I’ve finally found someone here in the States who knows how to make a proper cup of tea. Mrs. Haggerty is still in disbelief, of course, but I assured her it was the truth. Thank you.”

  She felt her cheeks flush, typically idiotic behavior for her when she was in his presence, and mumbled some incoherent reply as she hurried off to fix his tea. There was a built-in beverage bar next to the closet, fully equipped with a mini-fridge, a state-of-the art single-serve coffee system, a high-end electric kettle, filtered water tap, and all of the various supplies and serveware one could ever need. She’d already filled the kettle earlier this morning in anticipation of his arrival, and merely had to switch it on now to heat the water. While it was heating up, she spooned loose leaf tea - the expensive Darjeeling blend she knew Mr. Gregson always drank - into a stainless steel infuser before placing it inside an oversized black ceramic mug. After letting the brew steep for the allotted time, she added a single lump of sugar before carrying the steaming hot mug into his office.

  He was already hard at work, alternately looking through the neatly organized stacks of reports and mail on his desk and checking data on his computer, and Tessa paused for just a moment to drink in the truly splendid sight he made. He had removed his suit jacket, and she nearly gulped as the fine white cotton fabric of his pristine dress shirt stretched over the impressive breadth of his chest and shoulders. It was rather mind-boggling at times to reconcile the fact that her classy, elegantly attired boss with his perfect manners and upper-crust British accent was also such a tall, powerfully built, and almost intimidatingly muscular man. The two factors seemed at direct odds with each other, but they were also what combined to make him so overwhelmingly attractive.

  “Here’s your tea, sir,” she murmured softly as she gingerly set the mug down in front of him, willing her hand to remain steady and not spill even a single drop.

  Ian glanced up from whatever he’d been studying on his computer monitor and smiled warmly. “You’re a lifesaver,” he told her earnestly as he picked up the mug and took a long sip. “Ahh. Exactly what I needed, Tessa. My flight arrived in later than scheduled last evening, so I’m fighting off the effects of some serious jet lag. A good, strong cup of tea should help alleviate that.”

  She offered him up a tentative smile in response. “I’m glad. Just let me know when you need a refill.”

  He nodded, taking another drink from his mug. “I’ll be sure to take you up on your offer. But tell me - how did an American girl learn to make tea this way?”

  Tessa’s smile deepened. “I was taught by the best, sir - Mrs. Carrington, to be exact. She considered the art of brewing tea almost as important as knowing the correct way to format a letter.”

  Francine Carrington had been her former boss at the Gregson hotel in Tucson, the woman who had initially hired her on as a part-time office assistant back when Tessa was still attending community college. Mrs. C., as she preferred to be called, had been a formidable employer, extremely particular about the way she liked things done, and had taken a young, impressionable Tessa firmly under her wing. It was largely due to Mrs. C’s teachings and encouragement that Tessa had wound up working in San Francisco at the firm’s American headquarters.

  “Ah.” Ian nodded his dark head. “It’s all very clear to me now. Yes, I can just see the terrifying Mrs. Carrington hovering over you and maki
ng sure you brewed that tea to her exact specifications. If memory serves me right, that was one of many things I had to learn during the summer I worked for her. A summer that felt like a life sentence at times.”

  Tessa gaped at him in shock. “But - but you were her employer, Mr. Gregson! At least, your family was. Why were you working for her?”

  He chuckled. “I was nineteen years old, had just finished my first year at Oxford, and was brimming over with self-importance and arrogance. A day or two working for that old witch changed that attitude in a hurry. She didn’t give a holy damn that my grandfather had founded the company, or that my father and uncle were the CEO’s. I received no special treatment, wasn’t spared even one of her very scathing lectures, and didn’t dare to annoy her. But by the end of that summer I’d learned more about the corporate structure and operations that I could have done in an entire year with someone else teaching me. Mrs. C. was officially in charge of the administrative staff at our London headquarters, but she knew a great deal more that anyone ever realized. It was a tremendous loss to the firm when she moved out to Arizona to work at the hotel there.”

  Tessa nodded. “It always surprised me a little to realize just how much she knew. But she’s also very devoted to her husband, and when his breathing problems became serious she didn’t hesitate to move him to a drier climate. I – I know most people were terrified of her, but she was always kind to me. She, well, was like a mother to me in some ways.”

  Ian arched a brow in disbelief. “A mother? Mrs. C.? Are you certain we’re talking about the same woman - five feet tall, about ninety pounds soaking wet, tweed suits, horn rimmed glasses, and with the most terrifying scowl you’ve ever seen?”