Who's the Boss? & Her Perfect Stranger

“Do you?” she asked quietly.

“Yes.” He swallowed past the familiar stab of pain. “I miss him a lot.”

She nodded and watched the people. The light breeze tossed her short skirt about her incredible thighs. Joseph’s unhappy thoughts shifted and he concentrated on her body. When she crossed her arms tightly over her middle, her full breasts strained against the material of her jacket, making serious thought difficult, if not impossible.

“I do, too,” she admitted so quietly he was forced to lean closer. Now her exotic, sexy scent teased him, and he inhaled deeply, torturing himself.

“But I don’t understand…why did he do this to me?”

Edmund had served her a direct hit, and Joe felt uncomfortable with her grief and confusion, because he was just as grief stricken and confused.

“You were friends with him,” she said. “You were friends, but we aren’t.”

She was fishing. She needed, yearned…and he ached for her, but he’d never told a lie in his life, not even to save someone’s feelings, and he wouldn’t start now. “I’m sorry.”

She looked at him, accepting his silent admission that no, they were not friends. “I want us to get along.”

How to tell her that he didn’t? That he “got along” with very few people, and he liked it that way. That the only reason he ever “got along” with a beautiful woman was to “get it on.”

“I don’t want to be someone you have to babysit.”

“That’s good. Because I don’t babysit,” he said.

“You were dragging me off to feed me,” she pointed out, ignoring a nasty remark from a harassed-looking woman who had to walk around them on the sidewalk. “I work for you from eight to five, but what I do before or after shouldn’t be your concern.”

“Then eat, dammit!”

“Yeah, that sort of…um…reminds me…” She bit her lip. “How often do we get paid?”

All his annoyance fled as he stared at her. His stomach suddenly hurt. “Are you that out of money?”

She paused. Shrugged. “Sort of, yeah.”

Damn. “Today. You’ll get paid today.”

“I don’t want your pity. I just want to know when we get paid around here. Weekly, biweekly, what?”

“Don’t,” he said harshly, and when she flinched he lightened his tone with effort. “I know what it’s like to be hungry, to not eat because there’s no food.” He rubbed his belly, almost feeling that bone-gnawing hunger from his youth all over again. God, he hated this. A little panicked now, because she made him feel things he didn’t want to, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out whatever bills he had in there, slapping them into her palm. “Take this. It’s an advance.”

Horrified, she glanced downward, then pushed the money back at him. “No. I’m not the local charity case.”

“Take it.” He shoved the money into her jacket pocket. A mistake. Through the material, he could feel her warm flesh.

“I told you yesterday that I can do this,” she said a little shakily as she backed away from him. “I can handle being on my own just fine. I don’t think you believe that, but it’s true, and I’m going to prove it to you.” As she took another step back, she enunciated each word. “I can take care of myself.”

“Wait,” he called out when she turned and took off down the street.

Of course she didn’t wait. She never did as he asked.

He could have caught her easily. In those ridiculously high heels, she was hardly moving faster than a quick stroll, but he knew she needed to be alone. She’d resent him intruding now. It would hurt her pride. And he knew all about pride.

Still… He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but he just kept doing it. He hated how that made him feel.

Why, Edmund? he wondered for the umpteenth time. Why have you done this to me?

Vince came up beside him, watching Caitlin disappear into the crowd. “You have such a touch with women, Joe,” he said dryly.

“Hey, most of them like me.”

“None of them ‘like’ you. They want you. Some for money, some for that reputed charm of yours, but none of them because they like you.”

Someone else might have taken offense to Vince’s honesty, but Joe always appreciated it. “Look who’s talking,” he countered. “I don’t see you married or anything.”

“But you will.” Vince stared into the crowd where Caitlin had disappeared. “You will.” A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Tell me you didn’t fire her.”

“We’ve done fine without a secretary before.”

Joe and Vince went way back, but Joe had, in all that time, never seen Vince’s temper. He saw it now. The redhead flushed from roots to neck, and his eyes narrowed. “I can’t believe you did it,” he said furiously. “Fired another one! And she was the nicest, sweetest one we ever had.”

“Sweet?” Joe laughed. “Nothing that looks that good is sweet, believe me.”

Vince was disgusted. “If I didn’t know better, Joe, I’d say she scares you.”

“She terrifies me. She’s going to destroy our office.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I didn’t fire her, Vince,” he said wearily.

Vince relaxed marginally. “But you wanted to.”

“Look, I’m stuck with her because of a stupid promise. Yeah, I wanted to.”

“No, that’s not it—it’s not the promise,” Vince said as he studied his longtime friend. “I know you better than that. You’re running scared.” He shook his head in amazement. “And I thought you were fearless.”

“I’m not afraid of her.”

“Uh-huh. Well, whatever you do, don’t hurt her. I like her.”

Vince’s voice gave away nothing, but the way his eyes were trained on Caitlin’s disappearing figure in the crowd did. Not that Joe cared, but Vince clearly did like Caitlin. A lot.

He’d probably even ask her out eventually, Joe thought, his gut tightening yet again.

Caitlin would probably say yes.

Dammit. He really hated working with women.

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