Scorned by the Boss / The Texan's Secret Past: Scorned by the Boss

“Ripple in time?”

Her gaze snapped to his. “Makes more sense than believing any of this is happening.”

“But it is happening,” he said in a voice that had dropped low enough that the vibrations of it were sizzling along every one of her nerve endings.

“No, it’s not,” she said firmly. No way was she going to get sucked into whatever game he was playing. She wasn’t going to go back to work for him. She was sticking to her guns—and not going to look at that towel.

“Jefferson,” she said, inching farther from him. “Let’s forget for the moment why you came here. How did you get into my room?”

He smiled and she felt her knees wobble. Not a good sign.

“I followed you here.”

“Yeah. I got that.” Frowning, she asked, “How’d you know where I was going?”

“It’s not that difficult for a man in my position to get whatever answers he needs, Caitlyn.”

Probably not, she mused. The man had contacts all over the world and enough money to pay for whatever information he needed. But why go to all this trouble? And even if finding her was no big deal, how the hell did he get into her hotel room?

“Fine. You found me. But who let you into my room?”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and the towel pulled away from one of his thighs, exposing a good bit of tanned, very muscular flesh with just a sprinkling of blond hair. Oh, god.

“When I explained to the front desk that my wife had arrived a few days ahead of me, they were very happy to give me a key.”

“Your wife?” Okay, that was enough to pull her out of the fantasies her brain was currently indulging in. “You told them I was your wife? And they believed you?”

“Of course.”

Of course.

He said it as a matter of fact. And why wouldn’t he? The name Jefferson Lyon carried enough weight that they probably would have let him into her room even if he hadn’t claimed to be her husband. Money, as she’d learned long ago, didn’t just talk, it shouted.

“Caitlyn,” he was saying, and she forced her overworked mind to focus. “There were no other rooms available. The hotel was completely booked up. So what else was I supposed to do?”

“Go home?” she offered, throwing both hands high in exasperation.

“Not without seeing you.” He casually leaned back and propped himself up on his elbows. The towel slipped again and Caitlyn sucked in air. Now most of his thick thigh was exposed, with the soft blue towel just covering up the essentials.

Closing her eyes, Caitlyn rubbed at the spot between her eyes and told herself to count to ten. When she’d finished, she counted to twenty. Didn’t help. She was still furious and a little shocked and a lot needy.

So not a good combo.

Jefferson watched her and wished he could read her mind. The emotions flitting across her features were fleeting and so diverse he knew that her thoughts had to be wildly entertaining.

While she began to pace, talking to herself, Jefferson followed her with his gaze. Sunlight speared through the open French doors leading to the small private balcony. A soft wind made the sheer curtains dance and wave with languid abandon and the wash of golden light in the room played on Caitlyn’s long, lean legs, tanned to the color of warm honey. Something stirred within him and he scowled briefly as he recalled the desk clerk describing Caitlyn as “the one with the amazing legs.”

Jefferson had to admit the guy had been right. And why had he never noticed Caitlyn’s legs before? Shaking his head now, he pushed that stray thought out of his mind and concentrated instead on the situation. He was here with her and his plan was just getting started.

He could have gone downstairs to find her, but meeting her this way had been so much more…intriguing. He hadn’t had any trouble talking his way into Caitlyn’s room—and if he owned this particular resort, he’d have fired the clerk who’d bowed to Jefferson’s name and money long enough to hand over the key to a guest’s room. But since that employee wasn’t his trouble, he could only appreciate the fact that the Lyon name carried the weight he had needed.

Of course, the fact that Jefferson had bought up the remaining rooms in the hotel so he wouldn’t be able to leave Caitlyn’s room had probably convinced the desk jockey to be more lenient than usual.

“You can’t stay here,” she said finally.

“No choice. There aren’t any available rooms.”

“Go buy a house.”

“Private island,” he reminded her.

Hands at her hips, she lifted her chin and glared at him. “Not my problem.”

“Now, is that any way for a wife to talk to her husband?”

“I can’t believe you did that. In fact, I’m surprised you managed to choke out the word wife.”

Jefferson pushed off the bed, felt the towel at his hips slip a little and reached to straighten it. And he caught the flash of interest in Caitlyn’s eyes. Smiling, he said, “But I did. And now that I have, you’re stuck with me.”

“Don’t count on it,” she promised, and walked to the phone on the nightstand beside the bed. “I’ll call the front desk. Tell them you lied.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “I’ll tell them this is a lover’s quarrel.”

“They won’t believe you.”

“I can be very convincing.”

She frowned up at him and he wanted to grin at the frustration pouring off her in waves. He could almost see her thinking her way through this mess and looking for a way out. When she didn’t find one, she said, “Fine. Fine, they’d side with you anyway and probably end up kicking me out and giving you my room.”

“Oh,” Jefferson said, enjoying himself, “that wouldn’t happen. I’d never let my ‘wife’ be treated like that.”

She blew out a breath that ruffled the fringe of bangs on her forehead. “You’re such a jerk.”

“Pet names,” he said, smiling. “Isn’t that nice?”

“I don’t know what you’re up to, Jefferson,” she said. “But it won’t work, whatever it is.”

“What’s the matter? Afraid to be alone with me?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” One eyebrow rose. “Then, there’s no problem, is there?”

“Fine. You can stay here until they find a room for you.”

Which wouldn’t happen anytime soon, Jefferson knew all too well.

“But you sleep on the floor.”

“So you are scared of me. Or of yourself with me.”

“Your ego is astounding.”

“Thank you.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered.

“Now, Caitlyn,” he said, striding toward the closet where the few clothes he’d grabbed before this hurried trip were already hung alongside hers. “We don’t want to start our vacation with an argument, do we?”

“What’re you doing?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Getting dressed.”

“Here?”

“Where else?” He dropped both hands to the towel and unhooked it. Before he could let it fall, she was sprinting for the bathroom.

“Just…get dressed and go away. I have to get ready for a date.”

“A date?”

She paused in the bathroom doorway and tossed him a satisfied smile. “Yes, a date. Just enjoying ‘our’ vacation, Jefferson.”

She closed the door and he dropped the towel in disgust. She’d been there two days and already had a date? Didn’t bode well for his seduction plans. But then he reassured himself that by getting her to let him stay in her room, he’d already won the first round. She just didn’t know it.

Besides, he thought as he grabbed his clothes and got dressed, just because she had a date didn’t mean that she was going to stay on it for long.

Caitlyn smiled at Chad as he regaled her with yet another tale of his prowess at day-trading. She was almost asleep with her eyes open when he asked, “Can you believe it? I traded that stock with an eighth of a percent profit. Tightest deal I’d ever swung.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the memory of his triumph. “Nothing more vicious than the market.”

“Sounds fascinating.” She picked up her drink and wished it were full. Would it be rude to signal the waiter for a refill? She didn’t think she could take much more of this without slipping into a coma.

Her mother’s words of warning about handsome men came rushing back to her. Sometimes, honey, God gives and God takes away. Lots of times, handsome faces cover up empty heads.

God, she hated when her mother was right.

“Hello.”

Caitlyn jumped in her chair, whipped a quick look over her shoulder and couldn’t believe how happy she was to see Jefferson standing right behind her. Of course, she couldn’t let him know that. She wanted him to believe she was having a good time. Without him.

“Hello,” Chad said, shooting a confused look from her to Jefferson and back again.

Jefferson leaned down, planted a quick kiss on Caitlyn’s cheek. And before her skin had stopped buzzing with heat, he was smiling at Chad and extending his hand. “Caitlyn, darling,” he said affably, “you didn’t tell me someone else would be joining us for drinks. I’m sorry I got hung up on the phone. But you know how those business calls can run on.”

“Umm…” She watched him take a seat beside her, signal the waiter with a quick wave of his hand and then drop his arm around her shoulders. Caitlyn tried to shift out from under his grasp, but he only tightened his hold on her.

The man sitting across from them looked more confused than ever, and Caitlyn couldn’t blame him.

“So, sweetie,” Jefferson said, “who’s your friend?”

“The name’s Chad.”

“Really? Chad?”

“Jefferson…” Caitlyn muttered.

“Look,” Chad said tightly as the waiter appeared, took Jefferson’s order and quietly disappeared again, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but Caitlyn and I had a date for drinks and—”

“A date?” Jefferson laughed, and his amusement seemed to hit Chad the wrong way. Again, Caitlyn couldn’t really blame him. She wasn’t amused, either. Though, damned if she wasn’t relieved that Jefferson had shown up.

What was the old saying? Better the devil you know?

“What’s so funny?” Chad demanded, getting a little red in the face.

“Nothing.” Jefferson’s smile faded and his eyes narrowed to dangerous blue slits. “I always find the fact that a man thinks he has a date with my wife entertaining.”

“Your wife?” Chad stood up and shot Caitlyn a quelling look.

“Jefferson—Chad—”

“You’re not wearing a ring.” The darkly attractive, extremely boring man looked at Jefferson. “She didn’t say anything about a husband, man.”

“Well, we did have an argument earlier. She’s probably still upset with me. Isn’t that right, darling?” He pulled her in for a quick kiss, and while her lips burned with a fire that seemed to keep right on sizzling, Caitlyn’s voice dried up.

“I didn’t mean to come on to her—”

“I understand.” Benevolent now, Jefferson nodded and flicked his fingers at the man looking for a quick escape. “My wife is a beautiful woman. Hardly surprising you’d try to make a move. Now, though, if you’ll excuse us…”

Chad disappeared so fast Caitlyn half expected to see sparks shooting up from the heels of his shoes. Then she was alone with Jefferson. “Why are you doing this?”

He gave her shoulders another squeeze and smiled down at her. “Rescuing you from boredom, you mean? Well, because I’m a great humanitarian.”

“How do you know I was bored?” she countered. “Chad was fascinating. Seriously. I was hanging on his every word.”

“Your eyes were glazed over and your body language indicated imminent unconsciousness.”

Caitlyn sighed, slipped out from under Jefferson’s arm and picked up her drink. Draining it, she held the empty glass up to him, and once again he signaled for the waiter. What was the point in pretending? She was too grateful that Jefferson had arrived like the cavalry. If he hadn’t, she might have been stuck for hours listening to tales of pork bellies and futures trading. “Fine. I admit it. I’ve never been so bored in my life.”

“What did you expect?” he asked, grinning. “The man’s name is Chad. Is that even a name? Isn’t it really just a hanging piece of paper?”

Caitlyn chuckled. “Stop it. He seemed nice enough on the beach.”

“Aah, well. You met on the beach. Of course you’d expect him to be fascinating. Probably heatstroke.”

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