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A Contract Seduction
Some of the starch left his spine. At last a smile tilted those gorgeous masculine lips. “That sounds great, Lisette. If you’re sure it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all. And by the way, I’ve moved since my mother died. I’m in a condo in North Charleston now.” Her salary was generous, but it didn’t stretch to upscale places in the historic district.
He nodded. “I’ll get the address from your file.”
“Noon?”
“I’ll be there.”
The unexpected encounter meant she had to rush like crazy to go home and then meet her friend. She made it to the restaurant with two minutes to spare. Her blind date for the evening was overly chatty, but all in all a decent guy. Under other circumstances, she might have hoped for a second date.
As it was, though, she found her mind wandering time and again during the pleasant meal to Jonathan. What was he doing? How was he feeling?
When the two females left the table to visit the ladies’ room, Rebekah leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “Well, what do you think of him? He likes you. I can tell.”
Lisette made use of the facilities and then washed her hands. “I don’t know, Rebekah. He isn’t really my type.”
Rebekah snorted. “You don’t have a type,” she said. “This is the first time I’ve coaxed you out of the house. At least give him a chance. It’s not like you’ve got your heart set on someone else.”
“I’ll keep an open mind, I swear.”
Lisette had been careful at work to hide her feelings about Jonathan, from Rebekah in particular. She’d kept her hopeless crush a secret from everyone. When Lisette had been planning to resign, she was going to tell her friend that she was in a rut after her mother’s death and that she needed a fresh start. Now those heavy-handed explanations weren’t going to be necessary.
But there would be other questions when she began spending more time with Jonathan. She would have to spin the story somehow to protect his secret. And if her so-called promotion became public knowledge, the situation would definitely become awkward.
At last the interminable evening wound to a close. She had never been more glad to head home and crash. Even then, she couldn’t stop thinking about her boss. He had chosen to confide his secret in her. She couldn’t pretend any longer that she didn’t want to be much more than his stand-in at work.
He was ferociously smart and driven. The man did have a sense of humor, but it was dry and often kept under wraps. Because his father had been forced to step down as president when his health deteriorated, Jonathan bore a heavy load of responsibility.
All day Saturday Lisette obsessed about what to cook, what to wear. She was terrified of letting her boss know that her emotions were involved. If she was going to be able to help, she had to let him think she regarded this as a job and nothing more.
By Sunday morning, she had worked herself into a full-blown tizzy. When her curling iron failed to do what she wanted it to do, she gave up styling her thick, straight hair and put it up in a ponytail.
She didn’t want to look like she thought this was a date, so she put on an older pair of jeans, black ballerina flats and a cute teal top with a lemon print. A dash of lip gloss and some mascara took care of the rest.
By the time her tomato sauce was ready and the simple fruit salad cut and arranged in crystal bowls, she felt mildly nauseous. What was she thinking? She should have resigned as she had planned.
She was weak when it came to her boss. This was a chance to be with him in a way she wouldn’t otherwise. It “was” an intimacy of sorts. A dangerous intimacy she both yearned for and feared.
Instead of getting over Jonathan, she was only going to fall more deeply under his spell and end up having her heart broken into a million unmendable pieces. Broken because he couldn’t love her back, and broken because soon he would be gone from her life forever.
Her buzzer rang at exactly eleven fifty-nine. That was so Jonathan. The man made punctuality a religion.
She opened the door and managed a smile. “Good morning, or I guess it’s officially afternoon now. Come on in.”
Her knees wobbled when the scent of his crisp aftershave teased her nostrils. His broad shoulders were encased in a simple white cotton shirt. Rolled-up sleeves revealed muscular arms tanned from years in the sun. An expensive watch gleamed on one wrist.
He was dressed more casually than she had ever seen him. Jeans, too, like her. Leather deck shoes that drew attention to his sexy feet.
When she realized she was getting turned on by the man’s feet, she knew she was in big trouble.
Her big, sexy guest smiled. “Smells amazing in here.”
* * *
Jonathan was gobsmacked and trying not to show it. What had happened to the prim and proper woman who managed his business affairs with such aplomb? Suddenly...today...she looked barely twenty. Her smooth, creamy skin was unadorned. That perky ponytail bared the nape of her neck.
Her lightweight summer blouse fit her generous breasts snugly. And those skinny jeans? Hell. A man could be excused for wanting to cup that heart-shaped butt in his two hands. His libido, which in recent days had been squashed, roared back to life in a big way.
Was his reaction inappropriate? Should he try harder to ignore the attraction? Or, under the circumstances, could he be excused for wanting to let himself finally get closer to Lisette?
He shifted from one foot to the other. “This is very nice of you,” he said. “I’ve been looking forward to a home-cooked meal.”
Lisette gave him a look, one eyebrow raised. “You have the best housekeeper and chef in the state of South Carolina.”
“It’s not the same as having a woman cook for me.”
He hadn’t intended to bring flirtation into the mix, not at all. But the comment slipped out.
Far from being offended, Lisette gave him a shy smile. “Sit down at the table,” she said. “Everything is almost ready.”
He sprawled in a trendy retro chair that reminded him of something his great-grandmother might have used back in the 1950s. The Formica-top table was aqua and white. In the center sat a white hobnail vase filled with daisies. Yellow place mats had been set with flatware and cloth napkins.
“I like your condo,” he said.
“Thanks. I needed a change of scenery after Mom died. This building is very friendly, and I like the neighborhood.”
“Does the guy you were out with Friday night live here?” The question popped out of his mouth before he could censor it. Entirely inappropriate from boss to employee. Entirely understandable from a man who felt like he was losing everything. His whole life had shifted. Inappropriate feelings he had suppressed for so long in the past were coming to the fore.
Lisette had her back to him, grating fresh parmesan cheese for their spaghetti. He saw her go still. But she didn’t turn around. “No,” she said quietly. “That was a blind date my friend Rebekah set up.”
“Rebekah in Purchasing?”
“Yes.”
He drummed his fingers on the table. “Sorry,” he muttered. “None of my business.”
She turned to face him with an unreadable expression on her face. “This is not going to work unless we can both speak freely. Under the circumstances, I understand that you want to know more about my life. If I’m going to help you, you have to trust me.”
“I do trust you,” he said quickly. “Completely.”
“But?” Her half smile called him out.
Clearly she was reading his ambivalence. “I think you were right about the possibility of people resenting you if I suddenly give you carte blanche to make decisions.”
She nodded slowly. “It will look odd. Does this mean you’ve changed your mind?”
He stood to pace restlessly, shoving his hands in his pockets. Second-guessing himself was a novelty he didn’t enjoy. In almost any situation he was able to cut through to the center of a matter and make decisions...good decisions. But that was business.
This new scenario with Lisette comprised a hundred more layers of uncertainty. “I haven’t changed my mind,” he said. “But I’ve had more time to think about this, and I’ve come to a few conclusions.”
“Sounds important,” she said lightly, pouring each of them a glass of iced tea.
“It will keep until after we’ve eaten. I always think better on a full stomach. And have your wine,” he said. “You don’t have to abstain on my account.”
She shook her head. “I happen to love iced tea. Mine is very good, if I do say so myself. My grandmother taught my mom, and my mom taught me.”
“I know very little about your family,” he said.
“Not much to tell.” Lisette set white porcelain salad bowls, dressing, and the two plates of steaming pasta on the table, along with a smaller plate of fragrant garlic bread. Jonathan held out her chair as she seated herself. Then he took the spot opposite her.
“Is your father still living?” he asked. “I don’t remember hearing you say.”
She shook her head. “My mother never spoke of him. As a kid I fantasized that he was a secret agent or a prince in some foreign country. Unfortunately, I think the truth is that he just didn’t care and walked away.”
“Were they married?”
“I believe so. There’s a name on my birth certificate. And it’s the same last name as my mom’s and mine. But she could have made him up.”
“Haven’t you ever wanted to track him down?”
Lisette grimaced, a bite of spaghetti halfway to her mouth. She set the fork on her plate and sighed. “According to all the books and movies, I should. Want to, I mean. But the truth is, I don’t.”
“Why not?” Jonathan had cleared most of his plate. He was starving, and the meal was amazing. Lisette had barely picked at her spaghetti. Was it because she was nervous? He hoped not. He wanted things between them to be comfortable. Easy.
Maybe that was an impossible task under the circumstances.
She curled her fingers around the stem of her crystal goblet and wrinkled her nose. “My mom did the best she could for us, but I was a latchkey kid from the time I was eight or nine. Our house wasn’t like my friends’ houses. It was quiet and empty and lonely. I decided that I would make my own home someday and fill it with color and sound and happiness.”
Jonathan nodded and smiled. “You’re off to a good start.” Inwardly he groaned. His needs and wants were going to be in direct opposition to hers. Was it fair of him to ask so much when he could give her so little in return?
“Thank you.” Her cheeks were flushed. It could be the heat from the kitchen, or perhaps she was as aware of him as he was of her. Before today, he would have said that he knew Lisette Stanhope extremely well. Now, here in her cozy, peaceful home, he was finding out how wrong he could be.
Away from the office, she seemed a different person to him. Younger, more vulnerable. Again his conscience pricked him. Lisette was conscientious and compassionate. Last year when one of their employees suffered an extended illness, Lisette was the one who organized meals for the family.
She had been a devoted daughter and caretaker to her mother for a decade or more. Jonathan didn’t want to be another burden she had to carry. To be honest, he didn’t want to be anyone’s burden, but especially not hers.
If they were to enter into this arrangement, the benefits couldn’t and shouldn’t be one-sided. It was becoming more and more clear to him that there was only one real way for this new relationship to work. A drastic step that would change everything.
As the silence between them lengthened, Lisette finished most of her meal. Jonathan had a second helping of everything.
“Thank you for cooking,” he said. Something about the simple, hearty meal fed his soul as well as his stomach. Food was one of a man’s appetites. Sexual intimacy was another. The fact that he felt jittery and hungry for his hostess was as much a shock to him as what he was about to say.
They cleared the table together. Lisette started the dishwasher, and then she touched him lightly on the shoulder. “Let’s go into the living room. We’ll be more comfortable.”
The few steps between the two rooms did not give him time enough to prepare a speech.
Lisette kicked off her shoes and settled onto one end of the sofa, her legs curled beneath her. “Well,” she said. “Don’t keep me in suspense. If I’m not to have a promotion, what’s your answer?”
He sucked in a breath, feeling more rattled and off his game than he had since the day of his diagnosis. “I think you should marry me.”
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