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Authors: Maureen Child

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Family Life, #Contemporary Women, #Sagas

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“I did.” He pushed one hand through his hair and started pacing, more to get away from the scent of her than because he needed to move. “But he doesn’t know what happened in Phoenix so he doesn’t get it.”

“So tell him,” she shot back. “If you’re so sure I’m a thief and untrustworthy, tell him and let him fire me.”

“I’m not telling him that I let myself get used by a woman who looks more like one of the fairies she paints than she does a damn spy.”

“Wow. Thief and spy,” she mused. “I’m really notorious, aren’t I?”

“Why the hell else would you come and work for my company if it wasn’t to be a spy for your uncle? You had to know that we’d be thrown together and clearly that thought didn’t bother you. The only answer I can come up with is you’re still trying to use me—now
us
,
for your uncle’s sake.” That one question had been simmering inside his brain for months. Ever since the day he’d walked into the graphic design room and seen the woman he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about sitting at one of the computers.

Damn it, he
wanted
her to convince him he was wrong, that his thoughts were baseless. He wanted to know that she really was the woman she’d seemed to be when he first met her.

“Listen up, you unbelievably suspicious...
man.
I took that job in spite of you, not
because
of you. Sean offered me a great position doing something I’m damn good at and I should have turned it down because I might see
you
?”

“I don’t buy it. I think I’m the reason you took the job,” Mike said, his gaze spearing into hers from across the narrow room. “You were hoping to get me into bed again.”

Her head jerked back as if she’d been slapped. Gulping a deep breath, she muttered, “You pompous, arrogant... You know, sex with you wasn’t
that
good.”

He laughed shortly. “Now I know you’re lying. It’s amazing what a talent you have for it.”

“Get out,” she said flatly, holding up both hands toward him as if warding him off. “Just get out of my house and go away. Far, far away.”

Mike shook his head.

“That night we had was incredible,” he said. “And I know you felt the same way.”

“Please.”

His body churning, his brain racing, Mike stalked back to her, grabbed her and pulled her in close. “Since you asked so nicely...”

He kissed her, drowning in the taste and scent and feel of her. Not since that hot, amazing night in Phoenix had Mike felt so completely
right
about anything. She squirmed halfheartedly against him for a second or two, as if she might actually try to deny what was happening between them as thoroughly as she’d lied about their past.

But then the moment was gone, hesitation evaporated and she wrapped herself around him, arms locked about his neck, her short, shapely legs hooked around his waist. His hands dropped to the curve of her behind and held her there, tight against the erection straining and pulsing with the need to be buried inside her.

Had he known what would happen when he’d decided to come here tonight? Had he guessed that he wouldn’t be able to deny himself—as he had for months—the sheer glory of her body? Didn’t matter, he told himself as his tongue swept into the heat of her mouth. Nothing mattered but the now. The feel of her surrounding him, pulling him deeper.

No other woman had ever affected him like this. It was as if his brain and his body weren’t even linked. He knew this was a bad idea, but his body just didn’t give a damn. All it wanted...needed was her. One more night of being in her, on her, under her.

He tore his mouth free of hers, then shifted to taste her at the pulse beat in her throat. Her heart hammered in time with his own.

“Mike...” She sucked in a gulp of air and shivered in his arms when he nibbled at her skin. “We really shouldn’t do this—”

“Yeah, I know,” he whispered against her neck. “Do you care?”

“No.”

“Good.” His grip on her tightened and she ground her hips against him, her heels digging into the small of his back. He groaned and hissed in a breath. “You’re killin’ me here.”

She lifted her gaze to his and a slow, sensual smile curved her mouth. “Killing you, not really the plan.”

“There’s a plan?”

That smile widened as she leaned in and kissed him. “Oh, yeah.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know why...”

“Why what?” she murmured, then gasped as his hands kneaded her behind.

“Why it’s
you
who does this to me,” he said on another groan as his mind shut down and his body simply took the lead.

“Ditto,” she whispered, then kissed the side of his neck, trailing her lips and the edges of her teeth along his skin.

“Oh, yeah.” He held her tighter to his groin. “Bedroom. Where?”

“Down the hall,” she whispered, her breath blowing hot against the dampness of his skin. “Hurry.”

“On that.” Thankfully, her place was so small, it didn’t take him long to carry her into the bedroom. Like the rest of the apartment, the room was tiny. A double bed, covered by a brightly colored quilt, stood against one wall. Pale yellow curtains were parted over a window that opened onto the backyard where a soft, violet glow heralded twilight.

A narrow cushioned chair sat alongside the bed, and the dresser on the opposite wall boasted a wide mirror that reflected the two of them as Mike dropped her onto the mattress.

He stretched out over her, braced himself on his hands at either side of her head and bent to kiss her. Jenny’s hands scraped up and down his arms as her mouth fused to his. God, she tasted good. Almost as good as she felt.

Quickly, he pulled her shirt up and off, then sent it sailing to a corner of the room. With just her lacy white bra standing between him and what he most wanted, Mike couldn’t wait. He flicked the clasp open, then slid the straps down her arms. His gaze locked on the feast that was Jenny Marshall. He groaned and bent his head to take first one hardened nipple and then the other into his mouth.

Her hands fisted in his hair, holding him to her as his teeth and tongue lavished attention on those full, beautiful breasts. She came up off the bed when he suckled her and the groan that shot from her throat seemed to roll around them, echoing off the walls and ceiling.

Not enough
, his brain screamed at him.
More. Take more.

He dropped his hands to the snap and zipper of her jeans and undid them quickly. With her help as she wriggled eagerly beneath him, he scraped the worn denim down her legs, taking the flimsy scrap of lace panties with them. Then she was there before him, naked, willing, as desperately hungry for this as he was, and Mike couldn’t wait another second to claim her.

“Too many clothes,” she muttered as she ran her hands over his chest in frantic strokes, unbuttoning his shirt as she went, tearing at the tiny white buttons, muttering, “I hate buttons, why are there so many buttons?”

“No more buttons,” he said tightly as he shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it over his shoulder. “I’ll make a note.”

“Good, good.” Her fingers stroked his skin then and each tiny stroke of her nails felt like fire dragged over flesh, burning, branding.

He took a breath and held it, calling on every ounce of control he’d ever possessed, knowing it wouldn’t be enough. If he didn’t have her soon, the top of his head would explode. But Mike dragged it out. It had been too long since he’d had his hands on her and he wanted to savor the moment.

He ran his hands down her body, breast to the heat of her and back up to her breast again. He explored every curve, every line, and with each caress he gave her, she reached for him, fingers grabbing at his shoulders, trying to pull him in closer, tighter. Her hips arched and rocked when he dipped one hand to the heart of her and cupped her heat.

“Mike!” Her head dug back into the mattress as she lifted her hips into his touch. “If you don’t get out of those slacks and come to me soon, I—” She broke off, dragged in air and whimpered when he drove first one finger and then two into her damp heat. “Mike, please!”

He worked her, driving himself and her to the edge of control and beyond. It took everything he had to keep from giving her just what she wanted. Just what he wanted. But first, he would torment them both. It had been a long year and a half.

His thumb brushed over that one tiny bud of sensation and the deliberate caress had her shout his name. Again and again, he touched her, deeply, outside, inside, across that sensitive piece of flesh until she groaned and whispered broken pleas for a release that he kept just out of reach. Her eyes glazed over, her body continued to twist and writhe, chasing a climax he refused to give her too early.

Then he couldn’t bear it anymore. Pulling away from her, he stood, stripped out of the rest of his clothes and kept his gaze locked with hers as he did. She licked her lips, rocked her hips again in silent invitation and held up her arms to welcome him.

“Almost,” he murmured and she groaned again, frustrated. Until he knelt on the floor and dragged her body toward him. When she was close enough, he covered her heat with his mouth and felt the crash of the climax that slammed into her. She reached down, held him to her as her body convulsed. His tongue flicked over her, into her and he tasted her as she exploded, crying out his name over and over like a mantra designed to prolong the pleasure rocking her.

When she was limp and her gasping breaths were shuddering in and out of her lungs, he joined her on the bed and she rolled into his arms. One leg tossed across his hip, she brushed the tip of him against her heat and Mike almost lost it. Then she slid her hand down and her fingers wrapped around his hard length, working his flesh as expertly as he had hers.

He hissed in a breath, squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then opened them again to look down into hers. “Tell me you’ve got condoms.”

“Yeah, oh, yeah. Bedside drawer.” She wiggled her hips, grinding her body against his. “Hurry.”

“Right.” Mike didn’t think about why she had condoms. About the other men she must have invited into her bed. None of that mattered now. All that was important was this moment. He grabbed a condom, tore it open and sheathed himself, then looked back to the woman waiting for him.

She was like a damned nymph, straight out of one of the fantasy games his company designed. Like one of her drawings—blond curls rumpled, blue eyes heated and languid all at once, curvy body lush and waiting for him.

“Now, Mike. I need you inside me, now.”

“Yes, now.” He pushed deep into her heat with one long stroke. Her body bowed beneath him, her legs hooked around his waist, pulling him tighter, deeper. He stared into her eyes, eyes that held what seemed to him the mysteries of the universe, and watching her, took what she offered. He rocked his body into hers, over and over, setting a breathtaking rhythm that she raced to meet.

Again and again, they parted and came together, each of them driving the other higher, faster. He heard her ragged breathing, felt the frantic slide and scratch of her nails at his back. The race for completion was all. They looked into each other’s eyes, fierce now, impatient for what they knew was coming.

“Mike,” she cried, gasping. “Oh, Mike!”

She grabbed his shoulders and held on as wave after wave of sensation crashed through her body, making her tremble and shudder violently in his arms.

He watched her eyes flash with satisfaction only seconds before his own body splintered and jolted into a wild pleasure that left him feeling jagged and shaken. Locked together, the two of them slid over the edge, riding the thunder and crash of completion. And willingly, Mike tumbled into the dark, locked in the arms of the one woman he couldn’t have.

Three

D
awn crept into the room and stretched out long, golden fingers across the bed where Jenny lay beside Mike. For more than a year, she’d thought about him, wished things had been different, wanted him. And now he was here, sleeping in her bed, and she knew that as the sun rose, their time together was running out.

Nothing had changed between them. Not fundamentally. They hadn’t settled the issues that had separated them for so long before falling into bed—they’d simply ignored them in favor of the desire arcing in the room like summer lightning. Basically, they’d taken a long time-out. She smiled to herself at the thought.

Turning her head on the pillow, she studied Mike, using the moment to really look at him while he was completely unaware. He didn’t look young and innocent in his sleep, she thought. He looked sexy. Dangerous. Like the hard man he was. And yet... She curled her fingers into her palm to keep from reaching out, stroking his beard-shadowed jaw.

Jenny’s heart took a slow tumble. Pitiful, she told herself with a heavy, inward sigh. How could she feel so much for a man who thought of her as a thief and worse? And why did she
care
what he thought about her?

“You’re thinking too loud.” He opened his eyes and stared at her.

“A lot to think about,” she said just as quietly.

“I suppose,” he agreed, one corner of his mouth lifting into a seductive smile. “But we don’t have to think about it right this minute, do we?”

Under the blanket, Mike reached for her and slid one hand along her curves. Jenny held her breath as his hand glided up from her hip, along her ribs to cup her breast. She sighed when his thumb brushed across her nipple. No, they didn’t have to think. Didn’t have to let this night end just yet. The sun was coming up and soon enough, they’d have to face the real world again. The world where the two of them stood on opposite sides of a wall Jenny had believed would never be breached.

But for now...

“No,” she said, moving into him, “there’s no rush to start thinking.”

He kissed her and as she fell into the swirl of sensations, Jenny put everything else out of her mind.

* * *

An hour later, though, she knew it was over. Even with his weight pressing her into the mattress, even with his body deep inside hers, she felt Mike pulling away from her. As physically close as they were at that moment, there was a distance between them that lovemaking couldn’t bridge. All this time with him had actually managed to do was enforce the lines separating them. To make things worse, now it would be even harder to work with him over the coming months.

He rolled to the side and went up on one elbow. Shooting a quick glance at the window and the rays of sunlight peeking through, he shifted his gaze back to her and said, “I should go.”

“Yeah.” Jenny looked at him and sketched this view of him into her memory. Hair mussed, a shadow of whiskers and that amazing mouth of his quirked into a rueful smile. If she’d had any sense at all, instead of trying to build a memory, she would have been attempting to put this time with Mike out of her mind completely.

She wasn’t sure where they would be going from here, but she knew that whatever connection they’d found, however briefly, was gone. Over.

“Look,” he said, gently pushing her hair back from her face, “last night was—”

“A mistake, I know,” she finished for him, since it was easier to say it than to hear it.

He frowned, rolled off the bed and grabbed his clothes, pulling them on while he talked. “Can’t really call it a mistake since it was something we both wanted.”

How did he do that? she wondered. He was right there, within reach, and yet he’d pulled so far away that he might as well have been in a different city. A cold ball of regret dropped into the pit of her stomach.

“Last night didn’t change anything, Jenny.”

She nearly sighed because she knew exactly where this conversation was headed. “I know, you don’t trust me.”

“You lied to me the first night I met you.”

“I didn’t lie,” she argued tiredly. God, she hated having to defend herself over and over to a man who refused to see past his own suspicions. How could he sleep with her, make love with her and not have the slightest clue who she really was? “Since I’ve worked for Celtic Knot, haven’t I done a good job? Have I ever let anyone down? Doesn’t that count for something?”

“Yeah, it does,” he said shortly. “You know it does. But it can’t change the past.” His features tightened and his mouth thinned into one grim line as he held up one hand for peace before she could respond.

“Let’s not,” he said. “You have done good work for us, Jenny. That’s why we’ve got a problem now. You’re the logical choice to do the work on the River Haunt hotel, but if we have to stay on the project together it’s going to be more difficult than it has to be.”

Shaking her head, she only stared at him. Difficult? Like going into the office every day and feeling him watching her warily? Like knowing that he was waiting for her to screw up? To prove that she was exactly the liar and cheat he took her for?

She pushed off the bed and quickly snatched her robe off the end of the bed. They weren’t going to argue about the past, fine. But she was more than ready to fight for the present and her own future. And damned if she’d do it naked. Slipping the robe on, she belted it tightly, then shook her hair back and turned to face the man who continued to haunt her. “It’s not a problem for me, Mike. I’m going to do a hell of a good job on that hotel. And it doesn’t have to be difficult if you’ll just trust me to do what I’m best at.”

For a second she thought he might argue that point, but instead, he blew out a breath and shoved one hand through his hair. “All right. We do the hotel. We do the job. Then we’re done.”

Eager, wasn’t he, to push her aside and keep her there? But even he had to realize that he’d said pretty much the same thing about being done with her more than a year before. And yet, here they were, facing each other across yet another rumpled bed.

Still, it’s what she wanted, Jenny reminded herself. A chance to prove herself on the hotel project without being at war with Mike, because it really would make things harder. So why, she wondered, did she suddenly feel so terrible now that he was offering her just that? She scrubbed her hands up and down her arms as if to chase away the bone-deep chill crawling through her, but it didn’t help.

“We keep...this,” he said, waving one hand at the disheveled quilt and the still-warm sheets, “between us and do what we have to do.”

Another secret, then, Jenny thought. But probably better that the people at work didn’t know what was going on between them. Since even
she
wasn’t sure what exactly it was they shared, beyond the burn and desire.

Nodding, she asked, “Do we shake hands on it?”

For the first time that morning his lips curved in a half smile. “I think we can do better than that.”

He walked up to her, cupped her face between his palms and bent his head for a kiss. His mouth was firm, soft and left hers all too quickly. She really was an idiot, Jenny thought as her insides jumped and her heart galloped. The kiss meant nothing.
She
meant nothing to him and oh, boy, was that a hard thing to acknowledge. But she knew it was only hunger that burned between them, nothing more. Yet she looked into his eyes and found herself wishing things were different. Wishing for—

“I’ll see you at the office?”

“Yeah,” she said abruptly, cutting off her own thoughts before they could lead her down completely ridiculous paths. “I’ll be there.”

“All right, then.” He turned away to grab his jacket off the floor. Shrugging it on, he looked back at her and said, “In honor of this new cooperation between us, I’d like you to go to Laughlin with me in a week or so. Check out the new hotel. I want to walk the property, get a feel for it before we start the renovations.”

“Good.” She forced a smile that she hoped looked more convincing than it felt. “It would be good for me to get an on-site idea for the placement of the murals.”

“Okay.” He tugged the jacket into place. “We’ll go out a week from Monday. Figure to stay at least overnight. I’ll have Linda make reservations at the River Lodge.”

Her stomach jittered. Laughable really, because what virtue was she suddenly so worried about? But the two of them were practically combustible, so was it really wise to invite more temptation? “Overnight?”

He shrugged. “We’ll take the company jet into Vegas, and drive into Laughlin from there. I want enough time to explore the place. Staying over is the only solution.”

“Right.” Overnight. Did that mean they’d be sharing a bed again? Was he expecting that? Well, if so, he was doomed to disappointment. Jenny wasn’t going to let this spiral into an affair that would leave her broken and miserable when it ended. Better to end it now. And much better to let him know just where she stood on this before they went any further.

“I won’t be sleeping with you again.”

One dark eyebrow winged up. “I didn’t say you would be.”

“Just saying,” she went on, shaking her head, “I’m not interested in an affair and I’m not going to keep sleeping with my boss.”

A dark scowl marred his face briefly. “This wasn’t about boss and employee. It never was.”

She shivered under his steady stare, but lifted her chin to ask, “Then what was it about, Mike?”

“Need,” he said simply, biting the single word off as if it tasted bitter.

There it was. Plain and simple. He didn’t care about her, Jenny told herself. Probably didn’t much like her. He certainly didn’t trust her. She hated to admit that he was right about this, but she knew that hunger had drawn them together and then that same vicious desire had pulled them back in when they’d both believed it was done between them.

So no more. Of anything. They would have to work together for the next few months and sex—especially
great
sex—just complicated everything.

* * *

Over the next few days, Jenny almost convinced herself that nothing had happened between Mike and her. She spent her days concentrating on the art ideas for the new hotel. Using the photos and 360-degree videos provided by the real estate company, Jenny laid out her plans for the work to be done. But she couldn’t really be sure of anything until she saw the place firsthand.

“Have you got the sketches for ‘The Wild Hunt’ done yet?”

She glanced up from her computer screen to look at Dave Cooper, the new head of graphic design. When her old supervisor, Joe, had left to take a job with one of the big Hollywood studios, they’d all missed him. But Dave had slid right into the position as if he’d always been there.

“You’ll have them by tomorrow,” she said. The next game they were working on was already taking shape and so far, Jenny loved doing the art for it. A wild hunt, complete with faery warriors, pookas and the supernatural beings that hunted them. No doubt, it would be another winner for Celtic Knot and she really enjoyed being a part of it.

“I think you’ll like them.” She’d been refining her sketches for the past few nights, polishing them so no one could say she’d neglected this project in favor of the art for the new hotel.

Dave grinned, eased one hip against the edge of her desk and pushed his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. In his late thirties, he looked like a typical computer geek—tall, thin, with big brown eyes behind thick, black-rimmed glasses. He had a generous smile and a puppylike enthusiasm for the work. “I always like your stuff, Jen. I read your notes on the ideas you have for the drawings and I think they’ll be great.”

He was so nice, Jenny thought. It was a damn shame that all she felt for him was friendship. Life would have been much easier if only she’d been attracted to someone like Dave.

“Thanks.” She smiled at him. “I’m glad you stopped by. There’s something else I’d like to run past you.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“You know in ‘The Wild Hunt,’ there’s the magical wolf terrorizing the village?”

“Yeah.” Joe grinned wider and nodded his head eagerly. “Early renderings are awesome. Eric Santos worked it so that when the wolf transforms into a Black Knight, he retains the teeth and the yellow eyes. Truly excellent.”

Eric did great work. He had an eye for detail that skipped most artists as they usually looked at the big picture and left the so-called inconsequential bits for the interns to fill in or expand on. Eric didn’t work like that, though, and neither did Jenny, so she had a lot of respect for him.

“Sounds really great,” she said, meaning it. “Can’t wait to see it. But what I wanted to ask you about is, I’ve got this idea for another hero in the game program.”

He frowned a little, clearly puzzled. “Another hero? We’ve already got Finn MacCool as the hero. He’s the ancient Irish warrior. What’re you thinking?”

Actually, she’d done a lot of thinking in the past few days. Trying to keep her mind busy and off Mike Ryan, Jenny had indulged herself with searching out Irish myths and playing with possible story lines. She’d even turned a few sketches into an abbreviated storyboard to pitch to Sean and Mike at some point. But her idea for “The Wild Hunt” was just a little something extra and if she ran it by Dave first, he’d let her know if it merited being presented to the Ryans.

“I was thinking that even a legendary hero like Finn MacCool could use a little help.”

“Okay.” Dave pushed his glasses up higher as they slid down his nose. “What’ve you got?”

“I was thinking it might be a nice twist to have a Wise Woman in the mix.”

“Wise Woman?”

“You know, it’s what they called witches back in the day.”

He laughed. “Really? Interesting. Okay. Tell me.”

Encouraged by the way he was giving her his complete concentration, Jenny started talking. Reaching into her top desk drawer, she pulled out a few sketches she’d made the night before. Handing them to Dave, she talked while he looked through them.

“She can live in the village. Almost like an Easter egg surprise, she wouldn’t be activated unless the gamer hit a certain point on the quest.”

BOOK: A Baby for the Boss
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