From Boss to Bridegroom (4 page)

“And instead your job fills the bill?”

“Completely.”

“Your job can't curl up on your lap to read Dr. Seuss or melt your heart with a smile or tie your shoes when you're too old to do it yourself.”

“I like my job,” he defended.

“Enough to exclude everything else?”

He smiled the most wicked smile she'd ever seen. “It excludes kids. No one said it excluded everything else,” he said with a tone full of innuendo.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I give up.” Although in truth it wasn't their arguing she was so willing to throw in the towel on. It was that the innuendo was too scintillating to be safe for her any longer. Especially when that wicked grin had an incredibly heady effect on her.

“And here you were holding your own so well,”
he said as if he were disappointed that she wasn't continuing to challenge him.

Somehow when Lucy had gotten into the car she hadn't slid completely to the opposite end of the seat. And somehow when Rand had followed her in, he'd slid a little more toward the center than he'd needed to. Lucy hadn't noticed it before, but now she realized that they were only separated by about six inches. Plus Rand was turned at a slight angle and had his arm stretched across the seat back so near to her she became aware of his coat sleeve brushing her nape.

It all worked together to allow him to look directly at her. To study her with a warmth in his eyes that made her want to take off her coat.

Then he said, “Tell your aunt thanks for me.”

“For what? Providing an adequate sparring partner?”

He laughed lightly. “Well, for that—I always enjoy a good debate. But also for sending me the best secretary I've had since she left.”

It flashed through Lucy's mind to say he hadn't
had
her, but she caught herself before she uttered the words.

What was she doing? she asked herself. Was she really on the verge of flirting with him? Was one long workday and a Blue Plate Special all it took to drop her guard?

But it wasn't easy keeping her guard up when the man only inches from her was so astonishingly handsome, so charming, so stimulating, so sexy.

And it didn't help matters that there he was, searching her face as if he'd just made some discovery in her that he could hardly believe himself, his expression full of admiration, of appreciation for more than a job well-done. For something that appeared far more personal. Far more flattering.

Then his eyes honed in on hers, delving into them, making her feel even hotter still and suddenly causing her to think about kissing. About him kissing her. About her kissing him back…

It would be a mistake,
she told herself sternly.
A huge mistake.

Yet her mouth went dry with the very notion. Her mind raced with curiosity about how those wonderful male lips would feel pressed to hers. Would they be parted? Would his tongue tease her lips into parting, too? What would he taste like? Would his mouth, his tongue, be as agile as his mind? As forceful as his personality? As powerful as his sex appeal?

Where would he put his hands? Those big, adept, blunt-fingered hands she'd been mesmerized by all day and evening. Would they be warm? Tender or strong?

Would she forget everything in one perfect moment of bliss that would make everything right with the world? One brief, perfect moment she could lose herself in the way she hadn't in so, so long?

Or would it be more than one moment? Would it go on and on until her lips were numb and every ounce of her was alive with wanting…?

Lucy realized suddenly that she'd actually leaned forward. Just a hair. But maybe enough to be sending a signal that relayed what was going through her mind. A signal she knew better than to give.

She sat up straighter. She leaned back ever so slightly but enough to overcompensate if she actually had leaned forward in anticipation of being kissed.

“So, what time on Monday?” she blurted out, her effort to sound businesslike sounding abrasive to her own ears.

But all Rand Colton did was smile. A small, secret smile that made her think he knew exactly what had gone through her mind. Knew exactly what she was fighting. Knew exactly what his impact on her entailed.

“I think we've earned a later start. I'll pick you up at eight instead of seven-thirty.”

The car came to a stop at the curb in front of her house just then and Lucy silently thanked the fates for that bit of mercy.

She opened the door before the driver could put the car in park and do it for her. “Monday at eight,” she repeated much too brightly.

“Lucy?” Rand said to stall her escape.

“Hmm?” she responded over her shoulder, one foot already on the sidewalk outside.

“Thanks for today and tonight. If you'd consider taking the job on a permanent basis, it'd be yours.”

The job.

So he hadn't lost sight for even a moment of
the fact that they were boss and secretary. Only she had.

“No thanks,” she said curtly. “In fact I'll see if I can't light a fire under that employment agency Monday to arrange some interviews right away.” Before the fire he seemed to have unwittingly and without effort lit inside her singed her for real.

“Good night,” she said then, getting completely out of the car. “Thanks for dinner.”

He acknowledged her gratitude with another lift of his chin before he said, “See you Monday.”

Lucy fled the car, leaving the door to be closed by Frank and fighting the impression that there had been some sort of promise in Rand's parting “See you Monday.”

It was only her imagination, she told herself. Just as all those thoughts of him kissing her had only been in her imagination.

And as she let herself into her town house she couldn't be sure which presented more danger to her—her own wayward thoughts or the potent appeal of Rand Colton.

R
and Colton was on Lucy's mind. He'd been there when she'd gone to bed Friday night, he'd been there the moment she woke up Saturday morning, he'd been there all weekend and he was still there Monday morning even before her alarm went off, as she lay in bed.

It was very troubling.

Not only couldn't she stop thinking about him, but her thoughts…

Very troubling, indeed.

She'd had no business thinking about him kissing her.
Vividly
thinking about him kissing her. No business at all. She had to be out of her mind.

He was her boss. He was a workaholic over-
achiever who didn't even want a single mother working for him, let alone in any more personal role. And she had better not lose sight of it just because he was a fascinating man.

And he was that, she had to admit.

A fascinating man who also happened to be great-looking, more man than she'd ever met and a brilliant attorney—the kind she'd wanted to be herself before fate had stepped in and made that impossible.

Rand Colton was a fascinating man who also happened to be charming and suave and sophisticated, with a good sense of humor and an admirable strength in his convictions.

What are you, his biggest fan?
she asked herself.

Maybe he should have hired her to do his public relations work instead of his secretarial work.

Oh, yeah, her thoughts were troubling, all right.

She'd just met him and here she was ticking off enough attributes to make him sound like Superman.

It just wouldn't do.

But then none of the places her thoughts were leading her would do.

She had enough on her plate taking care of Max and trying to support them both, she reminded herself. She didn't have time for daydreams like she'd fallen into all weekend. Let alone time for a relationship or a romance—even if a relationship or a romance was what Rand Colton was offering.

And it wasn't.

So why was she having such a hard time getting him off her mind when she knew better?

Maybe it was a result of deprivation. There was no denying that she was a young, vital woman who hadn't had a date in almost five years. And not only that, she also spent most of her time in the company of a four-year-old. It wasn't even unusual for her to go days without so much as speaking to another adult, especially since quitting her job at the Bar Association library a month ago to make this move to Washington.

So she could make an argument for having been deprived of contact with people her own age, along with being deprived of contact with a man.

Given that, it only made sense that a few hours out in the adult world with someone like Rand Colton would go to her head.

But that was all there was to it, she tried to convince herself. A rebound effect of social and interpersonal deprivation.

And when the man she was out in the adult world with was a man like Rand Colton—a man impossible for any woman not to find attractive—of course she was attracted. Of course her mind was doing some natural wandering. Some natural wondering. Some fantasizing.

But fantasizing was harmless enough, she reasoned. As long as she didn't act on any of it.

And as long as he didn't know what was going on.

Or did he?

She hoped not. But she
had
escaped her own kissing ruminations to find him smiling that smile at her, as if he'd been able to read her every thought like closed-captioning at the bottom of a television screen.

No, that was just silly. He could have had any number of things on his mind to cause that smile.

Still, he'd been looking at her, studying her, which meant the smile might have been an indication that he liked what he saw.

Now
that
was a dangerous possibility, Lucy realized, annoyed with her once-again-wandering thoughts.

Worse than being attracted to him was the idea that he might have been attracted to her.

She didn't need that.

Oh sure, it would be a nice boost to her ego. But look what the last boost to her ego had gotten her— Max and raising him alone.

Only this time she wouldn't be able to say she hadn't been warned about what the man was all about. Rand Colton had made himself perfectly clear. No kids. Period.

“So stop thinking about him,” she whispered to herself in the pre-dawn darkness of her bedroom as if the spoken word would have more impact.

She really had to stop thinking about how much she'd enjoyed working with him—despite how demanding he was and how high were his expectations.

She had to stop thinking about how much she'd enjoyed bantering with him, debating the child issue, having dinner with him.

She had to stop thinking about cobalt-blue eyes and mile-wide shoulders, and thighs that tested the limits of his impeccably tailored trousers and hands that could cup the entire back of her head against the pressure of a kiss….

“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” she said more forcefully.

She honestly did not want to be thinking the things she was thinking. She honestly didn't want to be attracted to any man. And she honestly didn't want any boosts to her ego that could make her vulnerable again.

Yes, Max had come out of that vulnerability and she adored her son. No, she wouldn't change anything that would mean he wasn't in her life.

But she couldn't afford to risk anything that might make history repeat itself, either. She couldn't afford it financially or emotionally.

Max's father had hurt her terribly. He hurt her all over again every time Max asked why he didn't have a dad like other kids did.

Lucy would never willingly open up herself or Max to more of the grief that had already been caused by a man whose life was clearly set on one course. A man who had no interest, no inclination, no intention whatsoever of altering that course to accommodate a woman with a child.

“So get your head out of the clouds, Lucy,” she told herself as her alarm went off.

Because getting involved with a man like Rand Colton once was enough. In fact it was absolutely, unequivocally more than enough.

 

Once again Sadie was taking Max to day care later in the morning and had come to sit with the little boy when it was time for Lucy to leave. But today Lucy made sure to say her goodbyes ahead of time so that the moment Rand's driver rang her doorbell she was ready. In fact she nearly rushed him in her hurry to get out.

But this morning when Frank opened the rear car door for her it was to an empty back seat.

One glance there and another to the tall, stoic driver prompted an explanation.

“Mr. Colton had an early breakfast meeting. I've already taken him into the city. We aren't to go directly to the office either. You'll find a list of things he wants you to do today in the pocket behind the passenger's seat.”

“He didn't say—” Lucy cut herself off, hating the confused, disappointed tone her voice had taken, as if she and Rand had had some sort of private plans he'd changed without telling her, leaving his driver to do the dirty work. In truth, he owed her no explanation and she should have been grateful he'd still sent his driver for her.

“Fine,” she amended in her best businesslike
demeanor before the driver saw what she was really feeling. Then she got into the car as if she'd been born to it and didn't wait for Frank to close the door before searching for the note Rand had left her.

Not that it was actually a note. There was nothing written on the sheet of paper she unfolded but a to-do list. No warm greeting. No “It slipped my mind Friday night that I had these things for you to do.” No “I'm sorry for not warning you that you're on your own today.” Nothing but one task after another that she was to take care of.

He doesn't owe you any more than that. You're just his secretary,
she lectured herself, trying not to let it bother her as she read the list.

There were other items on the list but she was too struck to read them in any detail. Instead she reread the first three things, the third several times, feeling her pique rise higher with each reading.

What did he think she was, his handmaiden? His servant? His social secretary? Laundry and bank
deposits and flowers to girlfriends.
Girlfriends!
Plural. Deidre and Bunny and Veronica.

Did he imagine himself to be some kind of playboy potentate? Dishing out orders without so much as a please or thank-you. Forcing her to write his love missives to other women at the same time she was supposed to play wife with his cleaning and banking?

What nerve. What gall. What—

What was she doing getting mad?

Lucy put the brakes on the things going through her mind, on the anger that was gaining momentum.

You're just his secretary,
she reminded herself yet again.

Granted, she hadn't assumed the job would entail his personal errands. That wasn't what she had agreed to and it also wasn't something she
would
have agreed to. But that wasn't all that was making her mad. Every time she read that third item on the list and saw those other women's names, she could feel her blood boil.

And why? she asked herself.

Because she was jealous.

She abhorred the very idea. But there it was—unwarranted, unwanted jealousy. Jealousy she had no right to. No reason for. No rational excuse for.

You're just his secretary!

Her aunt had told her Rand was a man-about-town. But somehow Lucy hadn't taken that into
consideration. Why should she have? It didn't have anything to do with her.

Except that one day of working for him and she was feeling possessive.

It was insane.

She had no business feeling that way.

Social and interpersonal deprivation or not, this was uncalled for.

On the other hand, she thought as she fought to regain some control, some equilibrium, maybe this was just the wake-up call she needed today. Maybe it was good to have the evidence right under her nose that Rand was the man he was. That he wasn't some uncomplicated, ordinary nice guy who might break down her barriers to convince her that she should allow him into Max's and her life.

No, what she had there in front of her was written proof that Rand Colton was an entirely different breed. A breed that juggled women and didn't have time for kids.

And she was just his secretary. His
temporary
secretary.

And she'd better not forget it.

But still, as the car stopped at the curb in front of the dry cleaners for her first chore of the day, she couldn't untie the knot in the pit of her stomach left by that renewed knowledge that she and Rand Colton were on two very different tracks.

That she was on the mommy track with Max.

And that Rand was on the fast track with Deidre, Bunny and Veronica.

 

“So, Max, have you told your mom what you want to be when you grow up?”

Sadie had invited Max and Lucy to dinner that night and while she and Lucy put together a salad, Max sat at the kitchen table coloring in his new coloring book.

“No, not yet,” Max answered.

“Today's story at day care was about what to be when you grow up and then everybody got a turn talking about it,” Sadie explained to Lucy.

“Last I heard you wanted to be a fighter pilot or a policeman,” Lucy said.

“Not anymore,” Max informed her matter-of-factly, without looking up from his coloring. “Now I'm gonna be a pail-intologer. That's the guy who works at the mooseum putting the dinosaurs' bones together. And some of the times I'm gonna sing songs with a guitar.”

“A paleontologist and a rock star, huh?” Lucy mused.

“He sang us a song, too,” Sadie contributed. Then, barely suppressing a laugh, she added, “Maybe later he can perform again. I think you ought to see it.”

“Last Saturday he was enthralled with an old Elvis Presley movie on TV. Don't tell me I'm raising a little Elvis impersonator.”

“Forget the college fund. You'd better start saving
for the sparkling suits, big belt buckles and wig,” her aunt advised. “Max does 'Blue Suede Shoes' like a pro. He had every teacher and aide rolling in the aisles. And if you think he's shy, think again.”

Max was listening to this exchange even though he still hadn't stopped coloring, and a grin stretched from ear to ear at his reviews.

Lucy was about to ask to see him sing when the doorbell rang.

“Our other guest,” Sadie said as she wiped her hands on a dish towel and headed for the door.

“I didn't know there was going to be another guest, did you?” Lucy asked Max.

He nodded his head. “I helped Aunt Sadie set the dining room table.”

Not that Lucy minded that someone else would be joining them. She was always happy to meet new people, especially now that she needed to cultivate a Washington circle of friends.

But then she heard a man's voice and froze.

It wasn't just any man's voice. It was the deep tones of a voice she recognized instantly—Rand Colton.

And panic replaced the pleasant prospect of meeting someone new.

Lucy hadn't told her aunt about Rand's no-kids dictate. Or that she hadn't confessed that she had Max. It just hadn't come up.

No, that wasn't exactly true.

The truth was, Lucy hadn't brought it up because she was so chagrined at having kept Max a secret.
And since the job was only temporary, she'd just chosen to keep that under wraps when it came to her aunt.

It hadn't occurred to her that it would backfire by Sadie getting them all together.