Deborah’s hand went up, she shook her head and didn’t make eye contact. “You don’t have to explain anything, Mr. Ellington.”
He watched as she dug her glasses out from her purse, her body stiff, her lips pursed. She appeared hurt, perhaps even uncomfortable, by the mention of the temp. “She is the worst secretary I’ve ever worked with,” he said, knowing that the woman’s office skills were not what Deborah was focusing on.
“I hate her company. She is incompetent, intrusive, and just in the way.” He shrugged and let out a deep breath. “Her intitled demeanor irritates me, and I can’t wait to have you back.”
Deborah’s eyes lit up by the description. Daniel had many pet peeves, but an invasive person getting in Daniel’s way was high on the list of people he avoided, and she knew it. “I’m sorry you’ve been struggling at the office in my absence.”
“I need you to come back.”
An awkward silence filled the room, but, at the very least, Deborah no longer looked uncomfortable. He gestured to the couch and the table covered with paperwork. “We should probably get to work.”
Once settled and the work began, he said, “Have you seen the signed affidavit involving the contractors?”
Deborah remained busy scanning documents. She didn't even glance up but handed the requested file to Daniel. “Of course, sir.”
He reached over, causing the books and paperwork between them on the couch to tumble. Without skipping a beat, Deborah straightened the mess before it fell to the floor.
The affidavit wrinkled in Daniel's hands, making a slight crunching noise since he had forcibly grabbed it from her as she’d dove to save the paperwork between them.
“No harm done.” She read a file on her computer screen and her face pinched in a I’m-doing-a-hard-math-problem sort of way.
“Something wrong?”
She looked away from her laptop and set the paperwork down. “I just don't understand all this legal stuff.” She stretched her arms and allowed her shoulder to pop from tension. “Legal documents always confuse me.”
Grinning, he thought that they worked well together, like a pair of conjoined twins figure skating and winning gold. She understood the business and was always thorough in her work, even if she often misunderstood what the legal stuff was about.
“Scott will review everything in the morning. We just need to focus on the takeover and warehouse supplies tonight.”
His tie felt as if it were strangling him. He had already taken off his jacket, but he now removed the cursed noose and tossed it on the coffee table. “Can you read back the latest requirement involving liquidating all surplus and antiquated assets?”
“Of course, sir.”
As she read back the proposal, he studied her as though seeing her for the first time. Her new hairstyle certainly complemented her face, but tonight it was pulled back into a short, sloppy ponytail, giving her a sexy ‘here I am’ look. Her dark–rimmed glasses no longer made her look nerdy to him, but rather sophisticated in a Ph.D. candidate sort of way.
He smiled as his gaze wandered from the hair tie she wore, past the T–shirt and tight–fitting jeans, down to her feet. She wore comfortable clothes, indeed clothes not meant to impress, and she appeared at peace with herself.
She looked radiant in a complete banana split kind of way. A natural beauty not needing the expensive outfits and caked on makeup. Someone who probably tumbled out of bed looking sexy.
Her voice sounded even–toned as she continued to read. Her pacing was smooth and deliberate. The only other sound he heard was a slight rumbling from her stomach. She paused in her task, placed her hand on her belly, and said, “Excuse me.”
She cleared her throat and began reading again. Her voice sounded professional, but Daniel had difficulty concentrating. It was late, and he was also hungry.
And then he remembered the tweets that rumored that Deborah was pregnant. That would explain why she seemed more beautiful tonight than ever before. She was glowing.
A heaviness settled in the pit of his stomach as he watched her scroll down the page on her laptop and continued reading.
She sported a new look, probably for a fresh start with a new man. If he remembered correctly, she was about the same age as he was…maybe just a few years younger. When was her birthday? January? He must have just missed it.
His stomach rumbled, and he glanced at the time. Was it already after eight o'clock?
The refrigerator might be bare since he'd been gone a few days, but he needed to get something together for dinner. Deborah was probably starving since she was eating for two, although her pregnancy didn't show with the skinny jeans she wore.
Giving her a sideways glance, he studied her belly. He didn’t see what the photographer had referred to as a baby bump. Of course, Deborah had always been lean and trim.
Professionally polished.
Respectful.
Sexy as hell.
She shifted on the couch and folder her legs under her.
Damn, they were skinny jeans.
Nice and tight.
He cleared his throat and focused. “I'm going to order something to eat. What would you like?” he asked the second she’d finished reading.
She picked up some paperwork next to her on the couch and sifted through a few pages. “We're almost done here. I can wait until I'm back at the hotel to eat.”
Already? It wasn’t that late.
Overall, there wasn’t that much work to do, and it could have waited until tomorrow. But Deborah wouldn’t be at the office. He did need her help, and he absolutely wanted to see her. Given some more time, he could come up with more stuff to keep them busy.
“Don't be silly,” he said with a hint of urgency. “There's at least another hour of work ahead of us. I'll order whatever you want, Deborah.” Her name rolled off his tongue and felt natural for him to say. It was hard to think of her now as Ms. Baxter.
Her beautiful green eyes lit up as she set the paper down and made eye contact with him, staring at him for a moment. “You haven't eaten a home–cooked meal in nearly a week, Daniel. I'll make you something.”
Her face lit up at the suggestion, but he couldn't have her cook. She was a guest in his home. “Deborah, you don't need to make something for dinner.”
The dogs, who had been asleep by Deborah's feet, whined when they heard the word dinner. One sat up and nudged her with his nose.
“I guess you two are hungry, as well.” She patted the dogs and then placed her glasses on the table. “Your standard grocery delivery should have arrived yesterday.”
“Seems like my home practically runs itself.” He let out a half-hearted chuckle. “I don’t even have to be home.”
No. He just needed Deborah and the magic wand she used to make everything perfect in his life.
“It takes some work. Trust me. Coordinating deliveries, running household errands… it can be time consuming.”
She didn’t sound upset, more matter–of–fact. It made him wonder how much time she spent here without him. He assumed it was quite a bit of time, seeing how the dogs loved up on her.
She stood and walked to the corner of the kitchen where a large bag of dog food lay. “Your dog walker came, your pantry service came… if it weren't so cold out, even your gardener would have come.”
She scooped dry kibble and placed it in the two bowls on the floor. The Shelties ran over for their dinner, but didn’t begin eating until she patted each one on the head. “I even had the pantry service bring more food for you guys, too. Yes, I did. Good boy, good girl.”
His killer guard dogs just wanted to eat and then kiss Deborah all over.
He understood the feeling.
She had watched the dogs over the years, and if he remembered correctly, she had even suggested their names. The sable girl with reddish fur was named Ginger, and her merle brother with black fur was named Oreo. Ginger Snap and Oreo Cookie. Corny, but cute.
Daniel walked around the
kitchen island. The room looked clean and sterile. He wondered if his maid service had just come by, as well. For someone who didn’t hire domestic help, and only trusted Deborah into his home, she certainly had a team of people that came and took care of the place—all seamlessly with him not around.
Deborah washed her hands and then grabbed an apron from a counter drawer. She began tying the strings behind her when he took several quick steps to close the gap between them. “Let me help.”
Standing directly behind her, he smelled the scent of her shampoo. It wasn't a fruity smell, but a delicate floral one. He inhaled deeply as his fingers took the apron straps from her hand.
He tied the thin fabric belt around her tiny waist. Leaning toward her and feeling caught in a spell, he whispered into her ear, “Too tight?”
“It's fine.”
The two of them paused and stood for a moment together. Her body radiated warmth, and he leaned in. With her hair pulled back, he saw the shapely curve of her neck. He inhaled deeply and paused just short of kissing her.
The moment felt like déjà–vu.
He had lived this scene before.
His body stiffened and he stopped breathing.
Everything felt too familiar.
Way too familiar.
He stepped back, allowing her to continue with the meal.
Glancing around the kitchen, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. His dishes. His dogs. His pots and pans. Evidently his apron. His girlfriend… A smile came to his lips. No. Not his girlfriend. His Deborah.
A feeling of electricity shocked his body and he stared at the back of Deborah’s head as she gathered cooking utensils.
His Deborah.
This kitchen, this scene… it had all been in a dream the other night with his brunette–haired mystery woman. The woman he had dreamt about every night while in California.
He felt a pain in the pit of his stomach, and his mouth went dry. It couldn’t be. He stared at Deborah's beautiful head of hair. She was his dream brunette.
God. It was her. His mystery dream woman was Deborah… His knees melted under him, and he nearly stumbled.
She wasn't even facing him, and yet he knew hers was the face he never got to see in his dreams.
He couldn't stop himself. His legs may have felt like Jell-O, but they moved him across the floor. For a moment, he leaned in. He smelled her intoxicating scent, heard the soft tune she hummed, and felt her body warmth so close to him.
What was he doing? This was Ms. Baxter… Deborah. It was Deborah. His assistant.
He raked his hand through his hair and stepped back, giving himself distance from her.
She walked to the refrigerator and inspected the fully stocked shelves, finally settling on salmon and fresh vegetables.
“Why don't you continue with the paperwork? This will take some time.”
Her voice sounded strained as if she had noticed him standing too close to her, but she was the one who had moved away and denied him the kiss.
He watched as she elegantly made her way around the kitchen grabbing spices, mixing bowls, and knives. She knew his place better than he did. Hell, he hadn’t even known he owned an apron until he’d seen her pull it out of the drawer.
“Go on. I'll call you when dinner is ready.”
“If you wouldn't mind, I'd rather finish the paperwork with you.” He didn’t know what else to say. I need you? I’ve been dreaming of you? I have feelings for you?
He settled on, “Together we seem to get through the paperwork a lot faster.”
“Of course, sir.”
He was a coward. Sure, their romantic relationship was a fake. And she was probably seeing another man. And, he couldn’t forget, she may be pregnant.
His chest tightened. There were a lot of reasons to be a coward. She probably didn’t even feel the same way about him.
Feeling useless, he glanced around the room and found nothing to do. Noticing that he still wore the wrinkled suit from his flight, he said, “I'd like to shower and get the airport smell off me.”
“Of course, sir.”
24
A kiss.
Daniel had almost kissed her.
No reporters. No witnesses. She wasn’t the heiress this time. She was Deborah.
Just Deborah in his kitchen making him a meal.
Her heart raced and she could feel her pulse in her throat.
She needed to distance herself from Daniel. Not with just a line in the sand but a freaking wall with barbed wire.
She paced; her breath staggered with nervous gulps of air.
Hell, no. She wasn’t going to scale that wall. She was going to stick with the plan. Make dinner. Eat dinner. Leave. Keep Daniel at arm’s length away from her heart.
Okay. She could do this.
Taking in a deep breath, she shook out her hands and rotated her head from side to side. Distance. That’s all she needed.
She julienned the carrots while listening to the shower running upstairs. She should have stuck with her first plan and powered through the paperwork and then left. Why had she suggested making him dinner?
Well, she was hungry.
Plus, she’d enjoyed this evening. Work aside, she’d missed Daniel.
She glanced down at the hallway outside the kitchen where his suitcase stood. How many times had she unpacked for him and organized his dry cleaning?
Being a personal assistant had an aspect of the job right in the title. Personal. She knew what toothpaste he used, what medicines he took, and what type of underwear he wore.
Boxers.
Her head tilted toward the ceiling. He was wearing nothing now.
No. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on something else.
The engagement ring sparkled, and she looked at it. She felt a twinge of pain in her gut. Being a personal assistant didn't mean she needed to play the part of fictitious fiancée, be paraded around on dates, and kept in the best hotel in town. But, deep down, she enjoyed the role.
Ginger nudged her.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Deborah said. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”
Two sets of warm brown puppy eyes stared at her expectantly.
“I’m not your mommy, so stop begging.”
God, they looked adorable.
She tossed a small piece of carrot to both of the dogs, who gulped them down and looked up for more.
She took out the grill top and basket for the stove. All she needed to do now was make some rice. If she could find any.
Nearly tripping over the dogs, she made her way to the freezer and found a frozen bag of brown rice. Microwave fast and ready in only five minutes.
The sooner she left the better.
She glanced up. The shower still ran. Okay, she just needed to finish, eat, and bid a hasty retreat—all while keeping her clothes on.
Her hands shook when she heard the water stop, so she set the knife down and stopped chopping vegetables. He was out of the shower and naked.
No. She wasn't going to think about him toweling off the beads of water that rolled down his muscular chest and back. Didn't want to imagine his wet, bare footprints as they marked the tile floor in the bathroom. She especially didn't want to think about the rest of his body.
So why was she slowly making her way from the kitchen and up to his bedroom?
Daniel stepped out of the shower, his preheated towel draped around his waist. Water dripped down to the floor tile, but he didn't pay it any attention. Deborah was his dream woman. Deborah.
He checked his watch. Only ten minutes had passed. He didn't want to keep her waiting.
He stood in front of the foggy mirror wearing nothing but the towel. Staring at his reflection, he wondered if he should shave. If he did, he could wear aftershave.
His head felt as fogged up as the mirror. Using a hand towel, he cleared the glass and saw himself clearer. He even opened the bathroom door to let in some cool air. Unfortunately, he couldn't clear his mind as
easily.
He had known her all these years and had never appreciated her until now.
But this wasn't a date. Deborah was only here to help him with the paperwork, and she needed to remain off–limits. Off–limits since Ellington–Weston employed her, and…she was probably with another man and having his baby—that was if the many postings on his phone app were accurate.
But could you trust everything you read on the Internet?
Daniel paced the bathroom floor.
Why did he have such a stupid policy of not dating employees?
Pregnant employees? Forget it. Those needed to be doubly off–limits.
But who was she dating? Someone from work? Hopefully, the man would treat her better than Josh’s father, whoever he was. Daniel didn't want Deborah to become a single mother again. He knew she was capable, but she deserved more than that.
He brushed his teeth and combed through his hair, trying to distract himself from the idea that he may have missed his chance with her.
Another five minutes passed, and he needed to go downstairs. He could at least help her with the dinner or set the table.
He could do this. She was downstairs in the kitchen. They had eaten dinner pleanty of times together in the past. Dinner. Work. Then she’d leave.
No problem.
He entered his bedroom and felt the cool breeze of the ceiling fan as the air hit his bare chest and helped dry off the water from the shower. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to find Deborah entering his room.
She walked through the opened door. “I bought you more shampoo and conditioner,” she said, staring at the towel. “I also bought new household linens.”
Problem.
He didn’t bring his dates to his home—his private oasis, his haven. No one penetrated his security barrier. No one except Deborah.
She was here, now, in his room.
She looked gorgeous.
“I missed your birthday last month.” His voice was soft with a hint of an apology in it. It was all he could think of to say to her.
Bachelor Heart Page 16
