In Bed with the Boss

by Susan Napier

  In Bed with the Boss

  Susan Napier

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘WHAT in the hell is this?’

  In spite of the fact that she had been conducting a mental countdown, Kalera Martin still jumped as the door to the adjoining office crashed back against the wall, sending a concussive shock vibrating around the room.

  She sat straight in her swivel chair, her hands involuntarily pressing down on the stack of folders which she was in the process of sorting into neat piles on her orderly desk.

  The man standing in the doorway waving a sheet of paper in his clenched fist looked anything but orderly. The expensive, custom-made clothes could not subdue the sheer physicality of his adrenaline-charged personality. Even in an uncharacteristically conservative pinpoint oxford shirt, navy trousers, dark blue silk tie and navy braces, Duncan Royal managed to look more like a menacing street thug than the owner of a multi-million-dollar high-tech company. He was intimidatingly tall and broad and, when the brilliance of his argument failed to get him his own way, was not above shamelessly using his impressive size as an added negotiating tool, browbeating stubborn opponents into changing their minds in order to stay on his good side.

  Right now his good side was nowhere in evidence. The killer good looks were marred by a fierce scowl, the jet-black hair which was usually raked sleekly back behind his ears tumbled across his thunderous brow, outrage pouring off him in aggressive waves as he glared across the room at the slender, dainty woman behind the desk.

  On the off chance that he hadn’t yet reached the bottom of his morning mail Kalera raised her finely arched eyebrows in cautious enquiry.

  ‘I don’t know—what is it?’ she asked in the deep, husky voice that always surprised people, coming as it did from such a small frame.

  ‘You tell me!’ he snarled, storming over to throw the offending paper down in front of her with a furious flick of his powerful wrist.

  Kalera caught the page before it wafted to the floor and smoothed it out with fingers that she was relieved to note didn’t tremble at all.

  ‘Well?’ He loomed over her accusingly.

  She cleared her throat and looked up, her cool grey eyes clashing with his incendiary gaze.

  ‘It’s my letter of resignation—’

  He made a harsh, growling sound in the back of his throat. ‘I know what it is—’

  ‘Well, then, why did you ask?’ she dared to ask mildly. ‘I would have thought it was self-explanatory.’

  She held the letter out to him but he ignored it, bending abruptly to plant his lean, manicured hands flat on the edge of her desk, thrusting his face towards her, giving her a close-up view of the shock, rage and disbelief seething in the midnight-blue eyes.

  ‘Then you thought wrong!’

  Kalera watched, fascinated, as the small nerve which fluttered at the corner of his narrow mouth was compressed by the clenching of muscles along his rigid jaw. She felt pummelled by the force of his concentrated psychic energy.

  This was a first.

  In the three years that she had worked at Labyrinth Technology as his secretary Kalera had frequently witnessed Duncan Royal explode, but she had never been the direct target of one of his infamous fiery tantrums.

  Perhaps it was because her delicate build made him overtly aware of his own vastly superior size and strength, or perhaps it was the dampening effect of her cool serenity in the face of emotional scenes, but on the rare occasions that Kalera had slipped up and given him just cause to display his volatile temperament he had chosen to vent his spleen on the inanimate objects around him rather than on her remorseful blonde head.

  To her certain knowledge this transference of his hostility had so far cost the company a pot plant, a cell-phone, two coffee cups, a pen-holder and a terse lecture from a fire safety officer after Duncan had dramatically set fire to one of Kalera’s memos, causing a minor conflagration in his waste-paper basket which set off the smoke alarms and led to the evacuation of the entire building.

  ‘Well?’

  He lunged closer, his eyes snapping with impatience, and Kalera leaned back in her chair in a vain attempt to distance herself from his angry aura. ‘Uh…which part don’t you understand?’ she murmured, wincing inwardly at the lame response. It bore no resemblance to the crisp, assertive statements which she had rehearsed in front of her mirror that morning. She hated scenes and had been hoping that her carefully worded letter would soothe rather than inflame, diplomatically preparing the way for her more daunting confession.

  Alas, her temperamental boss thrived on confrontations. Full and forceful frankness was his preferred operating style and a civilised conversation was clearly not on this morning’s agenda.

  ‘Every damned part! The whole thing is incomprehensible!’ Duncan Royal was used to understanding instantly complex equations, concepts and problems, both real and abstract. The brilliance of his intellect usually put him in control of his environment. He didn’t like being reduced to common human bewilderment.

  Kalera screwed up her courage. ‘Well, I—’

  ‘Two paragraphs!’ he interrupted, his deep, rasping voice fierce with indignation as his big shoulders shifted and he stabbed at the offending letter with a vicious forefinger. ‘Damn you, Kalera, after all this time is that all you consider I deserve? Two measly paragraphs to tell me that one of my most trusted employees is walking out on me!’

  Kalera nervously tucked a stray strand of sun-streaked blonde hair back into the smooth sweep of the elegant French roll she wore to work. Her narrow oval face, which Harry had been fond of telling her reminded him of that of a Madonna in a medieval painting—smooth, serene, mysterious—revealed nothing of her clammy apprehension.

  She knew how much personal loyalty meant to Duncan Royal; it was the rock on which he had founded his enormous success. The computer industry was a cut-throat business in which paranoia ran rife. Duncan had made a fortune out of developing software products that caught larger competitors napping and an essential part of his strategy was to personally hand-pick his employees—right down to the office cleaners! Nothing was contracted out, except to other branches of his business. As a result he had gathered around him a group of extremely dedicated and ambitious men and women who were richly rewarded for their total commitment to their brilliant but eccentric leader.

  Prepared as she had been for an objection to her decision to resign, Kalera was taken aback by the violence of Duncan’s reaction. She knew that she was good at her job because he was as quick to praise as he was to anger, but she was hardly irreplaceable. It wasn’t as if she was one of his resident computer geniuses, or in any way unique in her organisational skills; she was simply a useful cog in his administrative machine.

  Surely he couldn’t already know…?

  ‘You make it sound as if I’m quitting without notice,’ she protested. ‘But I’m not leaving you in the lurch—I did say I’m quite happy to work out the four weeks stated in my contract—’

  ‘Damn your contract; you know that’s not what I’m talking about!’ he thundered.

  She stiffened. Just because she disliked scenes, that didn’t mean she was afraid to stand up for herself. ‘There’s no need to shout, Duncan,’ she said coldly. ‘I’m not deaf—’

  ‘No, just dumb!’ He slammed a frustrated fist on the desk with a force that rattled her computer keyboard.

  ‘If I’m that stupid then you shoul
d be pleased to see me go,’ she snapped, guiltily aware that her offer to work her notice was merely a token gesture. Once he found out the truth, Duncan wouldn’t want her within a mile of his hallowed domain.

  ‘Not that sort of dumb!’ He started to pace. ‘You couldn’t talk this over with me first? What…am I so inaccessible…so impossible to talk to that you couldn’t even bring yourself to mention that you were thinking of leaving?’

  He stopped in front of her desk again, his arms shooting out wide as his incredulous tone denounced the sheer ridiculousness of the notion. He had an open-door policy towards his staff and most of them took full advantage of the opportunity to express their opinions and ideas freely.

  Kalera’s thick lashes swept down to conceal the expression in her soft grey eyes as she concentrated on folding and re-folding the edge of the letter. ‘I’m sorry…but, after all, it was my decision to make. It had nothing to do with you—’

  She realised as soon as the words were out of her mouth that she had made a tactical error.

  ‘Are you trying to tell me that it’s none of my business when an employee quits out of the blue, without even bothering to give a reason?’ Duncan exploded afresh. ‘No, dammit, not just an employee—a friend, Kalera…’

  A wave of fresh guilt swept over her as a dark-complexioned face framed by a profusion of short Rasta braids and beads suddenly popped around the open door that was the main entrance to Kalera’s office.

  ‘Hey, girl, what’s all this racket—? Oh, hi, Chief, I should have known it would be you…From the sound of it, I thought Kalera had a pack of Rottweilers loose in here!’

  Duncan glared at his young assistant’s irreverent grin. ‘Do you mind, Anna? You’re interrupting a private conversation.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ Anna Ihaka advanced into the doorway, her coffee-coloured eyes darting eagerly from one to the other. ‘What about?’

  ‘I’ll tell you later,’ said Kalera hurriedly, hearing Duncan’s breath rattle ominously in his throat.

  ‘Oh, OK—give me a buzz when he’s finished his rant and I’ll bring you a cup of coffee.’ Anna was incurably cheerful and totally unsquashable, the perfect assistant for a man who, in a bad mood, was the Sultan of Squash.

  ‘I’ll just close this door for you on my way out, then, shall I, Chief?’ she added sweetly. ‘Only, we can hear the punctuation marks in your private conversation all over the floor, you see, and it’s a bit off-putting for poor Bryan who’s trying to give a demo and impress some very snooty clients with our discretion.’ She snicked the door smartly shut before he could get in the last word.

  ‘I’m going to wring that girl’s neck one of these days,’ growled Duncan, and saw the expression on Kalera’s face. ‘What have you got to smirk about?’

  Kalera hastily straightened the wayward corners of her mouth. She had obviously handled this all wrong, but perhaps it wasn’t too late to amend her error. ‘Look, there’s a very good reason for my wanting to leave—’ she began huskily.

  ‘Really? Did I miss something?’ He leaned over and plucked the letter out of her fidgeting fingers, unravelling the folds and reading from it with a deadly sarcasm which mocked the stark formality of the words:

  “‘I have enjoyed my term of employment with Labyrinth Technology—” Huh!’ His snort was eloquent with contempt for her flattering opening. “‘But due to a change in my personal circumstances I regret to inform you that I wish to tender my resignation with such notice as required under the terms of my contract.” Change in personal circumstances?’ he lowered the page to repeat furiously. ‘What in the hell is that supposed to mean?’

  Kalera moistened her suddenly dry lips with a little flick of her tongue. Was it better to blurt it out, or lead up to it gently? She was no longer certain.

  While she hesitated, Duncan was already darting ahead with his customary impatience.

  ‘You can’t have got a better job,’ he decided with arrogant confidence. ‘This one is tailor-made for your talents—after all, you virtually designed it yourself when you came to work for me. You’re much more than just a secretary; you manage the whole office. You’ve always seemed to enjoy working with me. Is it the money? Have you decided I don’t pay you enough?’

  The question was absurd. Duncan might be possessive about his ideas, but he was notoriously over-generous with money. He drove his accountants mad with his insistence on sharing his profits with his employees via bonuses, gifts and royalty percentages on software which they had helped to develop. So well did he treat his workers that no competitor had yet succeeded in bribing or head-hunting away a Labyrinth employee.

  ‘Yes, of course you do. But I—’

  ‘Aren’t you happy here?’

  If he stopped peppering her with questions she might be able to get out a satisfactory answer. ‘I’ve been very happy here, but—’

  ‘But! But what?’ he cut in roughly. ‘But you’re not now? Why? Is there some problem you haven’t been telling me about? Your working conditions and environment haven’t changed, so what else could it be?’ His lightning-fast brain sorted through the possible options and his eyes suddenly narrowed threateningly. ‘Has someone been harassing you?’

  She was bewildered by his sudden change in tack. ‘Harassing me?’

  ‘Sexually. Making suggestive remarks, brushing up against you, touching you, that kind of thing—making you feel unsafe at work?’

  Her mouth opened and closed and she flushed with mortification.

  He pounced. ‘My God, that’s it, isn’t it?’ He rounded the desk and swivelled her chair to face him, ignoring her squeak of surprise as he crouched in front of her and picked her limp left hand out of her lap.

  ‘Who is it?’ He sandwiched her hand between his smooth, warm palms and lowered his voice coaxingly. ‘Did he threaten you in some way? Tell me, Kalera, and no matter who it turns out to be I’ll sort the bastard out. I’ll fire him so fast his feet won’t touch the ground!’

  His dark blue eyes roved down over her figure, inspecting the soft draping of her lemon silk blouse and narrow green linen skirt as if he somehow expected to see the culprit’s fingerprints emblazoned on the fabric. There was something almost possessive about the protective survey and a wave of unwelcome warmth swept over Kalera’s skin as his frowning gaze skimmed over the firm thrust of her small breasts. She sternly smothered a little thrill of illicit awareness with the ease of long practice and took a huffing breath.

  ‘For goodness’ sake, Duncan, will you shut up and let me explain? I’m not being harassed!’ She tried to tug her hand from his but he wouldn’t let her go.

  ‘Then why are you blushing?’

  ‘Because I’m embarrassed that you could think I wouldn’t know how to handle a simple case of sexual harassment by myself.’

  He scowled, his thumb absently rubbing over her captured fingers. ‘You shouldn’t have to handle it on your own; that’s the point.’

  ‘Well, it’s a moot point because, as I said, no one’s harassing me—’ She stopped, disconcerted, as his expression froze into shocked stillness.

  Did he think she was lying? Goodness, surely he didn’t really believe that Kalera was so irresistibly alluring that she must inevitably be the target of sexual predators! Although she was passably attractive she wasn’t the type of woman to drive men to extremes. When she refused to respond to their overtures they typically backed off with a shrug. And at work, taking the lead from their boss, the males had always treated her with a friendliness tempered by respect.

  She frowned as she reached the only logical reason for him to jump to such a ridiculous conclusion. ‘Why are you asking me this—have you received a complaint about someone in the office?’

  Duncan wasn’t listening. His head had snapped down and he was staring at the bare fingers of her left hand.

  ‘You’ve taken off your wedding and engagement rings!’ His voice was hoarse with disbelief as his thumb probed the smooth, slightly shiny white band of fl
esh which contrasted with the light tan of the rest of her hand. His normally mobile and expressive features retained their frozen blankness as he demanded, ‘Why aren’t you wearing Harry’s rings?’

  Kalera’s newly exposed skin was proving to be uncomfortably sensitive and the light rasping of the pad of Duncan’s thumb against the tiny indentations in her finger sent a feathery tingle shooting up her arm.

  ‘They’re in my drawer at home…I thought—it was time to put them away,’ she stumbled, her fingers curling into her palm, forming a small fist that silently rejected the disturbing nature of his touch.

  He withdrew it instantly, but instead of rising to his feet he rocked slightly back on the balls of his feet, his bent knees brushing the sides of her calves as he steadied himself by placing his hands on the arms of her chair. His rigid expression thawed, a dark emotion flaring in the navy eyes as he looked up into her flushed face.

  ‘Past time,’ he agreed, and the hint of satisfaction in his tone made her stiffen defensively, twisting her hands in her lap.

  ‘I’ll never forget Harry—’

  ‘Of course you won’t. But he died two years ago…you didn’t,’ he said with his usual devastating bluntness. ‘You have nothing to feel uneasy about, Kalera. You honoured his memory with a decent period of mourning…’ His voice softened. ‘You honoured both of them. Now you’re obviously ready to move on—to start looking at all the opportunities life has to offer a woman of today.’

  His mouth curved into an approving smile. It was the perfect opening and she eagerly snatched it.

  ‘I’m glad you think so, because that’s exactly what’s happened,’ she said, taking a deep breath before she announced, ‘I got engaged last night.’

  ‘You what?’ He was still smiling—that faint, whimsical, sexy crook of his lips that had women toppling for him like ninepins—and Kalera could see him thinking that he had obviously misheard.