Hired for the Boss s Bed

by Robyn Grady

  She dived back around and pushed David’s shoulder. ‘Just get moving!’

  They didn’t talk the rest of the way. By the time the car cruised up his cobblestone drive, Serena nerves were frazzled. Although she couldn’t predict a blow by blow, she knew what he planned…only all the scintillating delights they’d experienced together before.

  She couldn’t guess where he wanted to complete this seduction…the library, the kitchen, perhaps in a Jacuzzi. Any location would serve. They could make love in a cage, the wonder and thrill would still be amazing.

  He cut the engine and pushed on his door. Hugging herself, Serena shivered.

  If she let him touch her, let him peel the clothes off her body and worship it as he’d done before, she’d be a goner. Everything she’d kept to the fore of her mind these past years would be put on hold…but for how long?

  For ever? Until he got sick of her?

  Neither answer was acceptable. She wasn’t beaten yet.

  The scent of jasmine from a nearby garden bed greeted her as she filled her lungs with courage, then alighted. Her hand in his, they walked up the stairs to the front door. Gilbert appeared before they reached the mat.

  In a Hawaiian shirt and cream chinos today, he didn’t appear at all surprised to see them.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Stevens.’

  What could she say? ‘Morning, Gilbert.’

  He spoke to David. ‘Anything for you, sir?’

  ‘Not today, thanks, Gil.’

  ‘Then I’ll be off. I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.’

  Her skin shrank. She turned on David. ‘You teed this up with your house staff?’ How embarrassing!

  ‘It was your surprise, no one else’s.’

  Surprise. ‘The afternoon off with you?’

  ‘Something like that.’ He grinned and walked in ahead.

  She followed and hauled him back. ‘David, we have to talk. This—what we’re doing—is far too important not to discuss.’

  David was exceptional in every way, but Serena knew that, for him, this was about testosterone, the chase, sex, as much as anything. What did he have to lose if it didn’t work out? If it turned ugly, he’d just hire someone to replace her, as he’d replaced Rachel. Little Miss Stevens would hardly be indispensable after Jezz came back.

  But whether this affair lasted a week, a month or a lifetime, it meant the same to her. She would fall in love.

  A broken heart delivered courtesy of David Miles might cripple her as badly as giving up the part of her that needed to discover the world. Truly find herself.

  He stood before her, his eyes searching hers. Concern gradually creased his brow.

  Heartbeat tripping, breathing shallow, she couldn’t find the right words. She pressed her lips together. Couldn’t he see?

  The back of his hand touched the burn of her cheek then a wave of emotion washed over his face. He blinked twice, his eyes squeezed shut and he shook his head, tight and quick, as if chasing away a bad thought.

  When his eyes opened they were clouded with doubt. ‘God…I thought you wanted this. I thought when I got you here…’ His jaw jutted and he stepped away. ‘Obviously I was mistaken. I’ll take you back to the office.’ He walked around her as if she were suddenly contagious.

  A sinking feeling rushed through her body. She had to explain. ‘David, it’s not that simple.’

  He wheeled back around. ‘Damn it, Serena, what are you afraid of?’

  His tone wasn’t harsh as much as pleading. She huffed out a short laugh. What was she afraid of? What the hell? Why not give it up?

  ‘Failure.’

  He shrugged. ‘Me too.’ He came forward and searched out her hand. ‘How about trusting me? Let yourself go. Let’s see where this takes us.’

  She didn’t want to take the risk, but she wanted David so much. She’d never deviated from her straight and narrow path like this before. Nothing had been allowed to interfere. And then she’d met him, her boss, her lover. Could she be brave enough to keep following this bend in the road?

  The grandfather clock ticked in the corner and David’s gaze began to shutter. The grip on her hand eased.

  He was giving up? And why wouldn’t he? With her being so stubborn and serious and dull, when they could be having fun in this great big house, with its quality artwork, sweeping staircase and lots and lots of rooms…

  She released the air from her lungs and kicked his toe with hers. Her mouth curved with a small smile. ‘Where this takes us? You know, I’ve been wondering the whole trip. I had my money on the spa.’

  His stern face melted and he drew up to his tallest. ‘Which one?’ He looked over his shoulder, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as he tugged her along. ‘We have three.’

  ‘Oh! Only three.’

  David was everything she’d dreamed the man in her distant future would be, the entire package and a thousand times more. Yet this was the present, and David was now.

  Her palm pressed the knot in her stomach, the one her father would tell her to heed. But her feet found the stairs. She breathed in and began to climb.

  David took each step in front of her. Every so often, he’d glance ahead as if to make sure they were on track.

  ‘I thought we’d try something different,’ he told her, ‘and stay away from water and small spaces.’

  She almost laughed but stopped. ‘Please don’t tell me you’ve planned something out in the open because I won’t join you.’

  His finger tinkled her palm. ‘Spoilsport.’

  She wouldn’t take a chance. ‘I include balconies and rooftops in out-in-the-open.’

  ‘Can’t say I’m not disappointed.’

  At the top of the stairs, they turned a corner and Serena swallowed as her heart leapt to her throat. She stepped inside. Well, of course. ‘Your bedroom.’

  Moving around to face her, he found both her hands and, walking backwards, guided her into a suite as large as her apartment. Strips of sunshine fell through half-drawn timber shutters onto the—

  She shook her head. ‘White pile carpet? This just isn’t you.’

  The bed definitely was. King-sized with bold timber scrolls, top and tail. The duvet wasn’t quite gold or caramel or fawn, but its fabric was rich and littered with scatter cushions, crimson, cream and midnight silk blue.

  He gathered her in and she remembered all this was real.

  ‘A long time ago, this was a guest room.’ As if he couldn’t wait another minute, he met her mouth with a penetrating kiss.

  When it ended, she roused herself enough to lick her lips. ‘Mmm…lucky guests.’

  Her gaze fell. The tugging was David’s fingers tripping over her blouse buttons.

  ‘Things like carpet,’ he said, concentrating, ‘aren’t important to me.’

  In for a penny…

  She wrestled his tie apart, then threw it in the air.

  ‘So tell me…’ she yanked the tails out from his trousers. ‘…what is important to you?’

  ‘Two things.’ They each shrugged the other out of their shirts. ‘I won’t tell you the first one.’

  Was it her? Lord, of course not.

  She tried not to sound disappointed. ‘What’s the other?’

  His gaze measured her lips. ‘You.’

  Ripples of want drifted out from her centre as he held her upper arms and drew her near. His thumbs rubbed as his mouth joined hers. The sensation, the deliverance, seemed to set her soul free.

  With a contented sound, he broke away, then slid down to his knees. Her red pencil skirt loosened and slipped to her feet before he cupped her hips to bring her in. Heat and longing radiated from every pore when he nuzzled the hollow at one side of her tummy. She felt sick with longing by the time he looked up and grinned. ‘No black silk today?’

  Her jaw dropped. She’d forgotten. Did she have the courage to check?

  Yep. ‘White cotton.’

  His fingers feathered her sides as he stood again. ‘Believe me, you’d be
sexy in orange pantaloons.’

  Did he mean that? He found her attractive—okay. But would he think morning raccoon eyes were sexy? What if she had a really bad bug? Would he still think she was gorgeous looking like death while he brought her cups of soup for a week?

  She couldn’t resist. ‘What if I put on fifty pounds and wore cola-bottle lenses?’

  ‘What if I lay you on my sheets now and whisper all the things that make you irresistible?’

  He whispered at her ear as he gathered her up and laid her on the cool silk. He whispered as he undressed her then stroked her and caressed her. When she lost her ability to speak, he, too, fell quiet, stepped back, kicked off his shoes, then his trousers. He stood before her…David, her David. More perfect than the statue.

  He sank in beside her onto a mattress as soft as clouds. His touch curled around her cheek as he nipped her chin and ground into her side. ‘Can you guess how many times these past weeks I’ve dreamt of lying here with you?’

  Two fingers walked up her ribs to find then pluck her nipple. Smiling, she wreathed and rolled into him. ‘Did you count?’ She hadn’t.

  ‘A boy doesn’t count when he dreams of his girl.’

  Dreams of his girl.

  The pleasure in those words almost bested his palm skating across her breasts, over her stomach, down, down…

  When she gasped, he burrowed beneath her hair. ‘You smell so good. What perfume do you wear?’

  Her hand clapped over his and worked with it. She concentrated on the lights and pulse getting brighter, bigger. Maybe she should answer him. ‘It’s not Chanel No. 5.’

  His teeth tugged her ear. Every nerve-ending in her left side sang while that ache throbbed and grew. She needed to get closer.

  Flinging a leg over his hip, she sipped from the hollow at his throat, then brushed her lips down through the granite and hair as he stroked and gently rocked. Why on earth had she thought coming here today was a bad idea?

  Their previous times together had been exciting, naughty, something she read about or other people did. This afternoon spoke to her in a different way. Still drugging and delicious, compelling and incomparable. But deeper than that. This time he touched her on a higher level, a level she’d never left exposed. A hidden part. To share with him.

  His fevered skin slid and soaked over hers as she flew nearer the edge. Almost there, almost, almost…

  His hand slipped away. Every taut muscle let go. Her heartbeat boomed through her veins as she opened her eyes and groaned. But he was moving over her.

  Her arms wound around his neck as he positioned himself.

  ‘Missionary position—’he grinned ‘—on a bed, no less.’

  He found her ready. Eyes drifting shut, she rotated her hips and urged him on. ‘Too boring for you?’

  He began to move. ‘What do you think?’

  As the stars in her head gathered and friction coiled tight she couldn’t think at all. But when they leapt off into star-bursts at the same time, one thought came to mind. It made her the happiest she’d ever been.

  As well as the saddest.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I NEVER want to let her go.

  Lying among the rumpled sheets, resting on an elbow, head cradled in his palm, David gazed over at Serena sitting on the window seat. The blinds, pulled wide, flooded the room with light, making her glow like an angel wearing an oversized white bathrobe. His dog snoozed on the seat beside her, her snout resting on Serena’s lap. Sylvie was snoring.

  ‘Give her a prod.’ David pushed up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. ‘Once she gets that engine going, it’s enough to shake the foundations.’

  Threading her fingers through Sylvie’s coat, Serena raised her chin. ‘She’s finally decided to come out of her hiding place and say hello. I’m not going to do anything to risk our friendship.’

  In her sleep, Sylvie snorted and her back leg kicked out.

  David reached out for Serena. ‘Leave that dog alone and come back here to me.’

  ‘A woman’s work…’ She ruffled Sylvie’s ear and strolled over, tightening the sash at her waist.

  ‘Don’t bother about that. We’ve showered, rested up, taken in provisions.’ When she sank in beside him, he leant against her till her back met fine Egyptian cotton. He tasted her exposed throat. ‘Now it’s time for recreation.’

  She put on a sigh. ‘What? Again?’

  When he felt her melt beneath him, he shifted farther up the bed and tugged the sash. ‘Isn’t this better than rubbing my dog’s ears?’

  He studied her mouth—parted, welcoming—and lowered his head.

  Serena suddenly gasped.

  She knocked him out the way and sat bolt upright. His lower lip stung where her forehead had belted him.

  ‘Oh, God. I had a three o’clock with an alderman today. He wanted to discuss an open-air concert. What time is it?’ She clutched his arm. ‘Two-thirty.’ She leapt away. ‘Still time.’

  Unperturbed, he fell back onto the bed. ‘Relax. I asked Tilda to go through your appointment book and cancel everything. You heard me phone her on the drive here.’

  ‘But I’m not sure I pencilled him in. He called late Friday. I was rushed.’

  He reassured her. ‘I’ll call tomorrow and explain.’

  ‘That we had the day off to wrinkle the sheets?’ She pulled a pained face. ‘How unprofessional.’

  His eyes followed her as she collected her clothes still strewn over the floor.

  ‘This is the first time I’ve had off work in so many years I can’t remember. And it’s not a whole day. It’s an afternoon.’

  The robe came off and those cotton briefs worked their way up over her wiggling behind. ‘I’ve never had time off work.’

  He should be impressed. ‘Then it’s time you did.’

  A cream lace bra covered breasts he’d come to adore.

  She clasped the back strap. ‘Not when I’m letting people down.’

  He joined her and wondered if he should start stripping her again. Not that he felt underdressed. He felt great.

  ‘I own the company, Serena. Believe me, you’re not letting me down.’ Skirt on and zipped. Frowning, he grabbed her hand. ‘Settle down. Let’s focus on what’s important here.’

  She pinned him with a look. ‘I wish you would.’

  Spitfire. He loved this different side of her.

  After hiding his grin by rubbing the corner of his eye, he crossed the room back to the bed. ‘Although I know your answer, maybe you want to explain that last comment.’

  Her blouse covered cinnamon-tinted skin. Smooth skin. Good to kiss.

  ‘When you promoted me,’ she said, probably searching for her shoes now, ‘winning the top award for this campaign meant everything. The sponsors indicated they were prepared to take their business elsewhere and they’d take others with them. We had to win gold. Is that right?’

  He spread out on his belly, chin on stacked fists. ‘That’s right.’

  She stopped and looked at him hard. ‘It’s still my priority, but is it yours? Because lately you’re sure not acting like it.’

  He stared at her. Amazing. ‘That really is the most important thing to you, isn’t it?’

  One part of him applauded. Another wanted to remind her of what they’d shared. Not sex—more than bodies grinding and giving into the push. They’d done that, too, and it had been fantastic. But what had today meant to her? His words, her surrender? They meant a huge deal to him.

  His grinding teeth echoed in his skull. ‘Sorry to make you choose between the alderman and me.’

  Her gaze flew up from where she searched under the bed. ‘That is the most childish thing I’ve ever heard.’ She dragged out a shoe.

  He sat up. Damn it, she was right. This wasn’t about her choosing between men.

  He patted down the air while she whipped around the room in one heel. This had gone too far. ‘Serena, no one’s going to sack you. You don’t have to choose
between your job and me.’

  She stopped to stare. ‘Why do I get the feeling I’m the only one making sense?’

  ‘It’s one afternoon, for God’s sake. If I didn’t think we could spare it, we wouldn’t be here now.’

  But that wasn’t completely true. He’d wanted to confirm this with her today, not tomorrow, not tonight. Today. Saturday he’d been understanding. Sunday had driven him mad. She’d played her games, but she didn’t hold the gavel in this court. ‘As far as work’s concerned, I set the agenda. All you have to do is follow my directions.’

  She blinked several times, as though an idea had just landed, then smoothed down the sides of her skirt. ‘Okay, you’re the boss. But I’m still a little confused, so answer me this. You’re worth more than the guy who invented toothpaste, yes?’

  He set his jaw. Who wanted to discuss money? But he’d indulge her. ‘Perhaps.’

  She strode over. ‘If it all went belly up—this campaign, your agency—you could invest in some other business. You could invest in ten. So, really—’ she punctuated each word ‘—what’s the big deal?’

  The tips of his ears began to burn. He’d thought he’d come to know her. Guess they didn’t know each other that well after all.

  ‘Is it so difficult for you to work out? I could write it on a blackboard, if you like.’

  Wariness flickered in her eyes. She’d said too much, overstepped the line, and she knew it. ‘I’m trying to understand, that’s all.’

  ‘Earlier today you said you were afraid of failure.’ All ears now, she backed up, lowered herself onto the window seat and massaged Sylvie’s sleeping head. ‘Some people don’t give a damn about that. They care so little they don’t try to achieve jackshit. Why do some people care and others not?’

  She dropped her eyes, as if she knew, understood, but wouldn’t say.

  A fire seared the pit of his gut. ‘I will do anything to keep the agency, not only alive, but succeeding and achieving, because if I don’t, I’ll have lost something more valuable than a mansion with three spa baths. I’ll lose my name, my face, my pride. Once was enough. Nothing and no one will see me that low again.’

  He didn’t do sacrifice and he didn’t do—