The Bachelor Boss

“You don’t have anything to tell Dunk about me, unless you make something up,” he said severely.

“What a great idea. Thanks. I’ll think of something really good.”

“Don’t you dare,” he warned.

“Why not? It was your idea.”

His idea?

Right. As if Libby hadn’t already thought of inventing some extravagant, ridiculous tale to entertain Dunk Anderson. Nothing licentious, of course, just embarrassing as hell.

“I don’t know what Dunk is doing with the company, anyway,” Neil said, trying to change the subject. “Didn’t I hear he has a stockbroker’s license?”

She dumped handfuls of coffee-soaked tissue into the waste can. “Yes, but he didn’t like it. I think you’re prejudiced because he’s a man, and you think secretaries and assistants should be dutiful, coffee-fetching women, while men should be the power-brokers who run the universe.”

“That isn’t true. And didn’t we have this discussion a few hours ago? I don’t have hang-ups about women in business.”

She just lifted an eyebrow.

Neil opened his mouth, then closed it again. He might as well forget it. After countless debates with his sisters, he knew women understood a certain logic, men understood another, and there was no meeting in the middle. Particularly with a woman in Libby’s mood.

It was his own fault, both for the things he’d said earlier in the day, and for asking her out all those years ago. Some mistakes haunted you forever.

Of course, no one had ever tempted him like Libby Dumont. New on the job, Libby had been assigned to reorganize archived files in a basement of the company’s first building…a grim place everyone called the crypt. He’d gotten frustrated waiting for data on an old merger and gone down to get the file himself.

Then he’d seen Libby.

She was reaching up, pushing a teetering box back on a high shelf. Her sweater had pulled tight, defining her body and instantly setting him on fire. She’d glanced in his direction, lost her battle with the box, and was showered with dusty files. Instead of getting angry or embarrassed, she just laughed, her green eyes sparkling like jewels and her long hair falling down her back in a silken torrent of brown and gold and red.

God, he’d loved that laugh.

Unselfconscious, charming, convincing him she was a whole lot more experienced than was really the case.

Neil hesitated, then ran a finger into his collar and tugged on his tie. “By the way, my mother called and suggested I bring you to my nieces’ birthday party.”

Libby’s mouth dropped open.

A children’s party?

Wasn’t that too prosaic and normal for Neil? Over the years she’d heard Kane talk endlessly about the family; he was devoted to them. Neil seemed fond of his siblings, too, but she’d never imagined him attending a birthday celebration for two four-year-old girls.

“Thanks, but I’ve got work to do.” She would have enjoyed the party and visiting with the rest of the O’Rourke family, but going anywhere with Neil wasn’t the best idea—even though she wanted to kick him for looking so relieved at her refusal.

“I’m sure you’ve already put in enough hours.”

“Actually, I have…plans. For the evening.” It wasn’t a lie. She did have plans—laundry, vacuuming, and dosing the cat for fleas. Lately it felt like too much effort going on dates that never seemed to lead anywhere.

“All right. By the way, thanks for the report,” he said, holding up a sheaf of papers. “I’ll go over it this weekend, then we’ll talk again Monday.”

It wasn’t until after he’d left that Libby let out the breath she’d been holding.

She could always ask Kane to forget her promotion. He might even be relieved he didn’t have to find a new administrative officer. She’d only had the position for a short while, so it wasn’t like she was bored with her work or anything.

No.

Her chin lifted stubbornly.

She wouldn’t let Neil O’Rourke have the satisfaction of thinking he’d driven her away. And she’d make a darned good vice president, no matter what he might think.

Chapter Three

Neil sat back on the sofa in his mother’s living room and listened to the high-pitched squeals of his nieces as they unwrapped their birthday presents.

Damn, they were cute.

They’d also be spoiled right down to their fingertips if his little sister didn’t have so much sense when it came to raising her babies—as his mother’s only grandchildren, they were the recipients of all her grandmotherly attention.

Well, they were the only grandchildren until Kane and Beth’s baby arrived.

His oldest brother stood in the arched entry of the living room, his arm wrapped possessively around his wife’s waist. Occasionally he’d stroke the small swell of her stomach and Beth would look up with a soft warmth in her eyes that excluded everyone else on the planet.

Maddie and Patrick, the latest newlyweds in the family, weren’t much better, though at the moment Maddie was on her knees next to the birthday girls, laughing as they decorated her hair and shoulders with bright ribbons. Little Peggy and Amy seemed to be having more fun playing with their new aunt than opening packages, but nobody minded.

“At least two of my sons have given me grand daughters-in-law,” his mother said, sinking down on the sofa beside him, her Irish brogue stronger than usual. She’d come from Ireland as a young wife and had never lost her native accent. “Beth and Maddie are fine women.”

“They’re a lot alike,” Neil murmured. “Being twins.”

“True enough.” Pegeen O’Rourke nodded happily. “It’s sad they were separated as babes, but I’m glad they’ve found each other at last.”

“But even happier they both married into our family,” he added dryly.

Pegeen let out a low, rich chuckle. “Aye. I wish all my children could be as happy as Kane and Patrick.” She shot a significant glance in his direction. “Perhaps it’s time for you to think of finding a wife.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Aren’t two sons in the last four months enough? If we all get married, what will you have to look forward to?”

His mother’s smile reminded him of a contented cat with cream on its whiskers. “Grandchildren,” she said happily.

Lord. He’d set himself up for that one.

“You know how I feel about marriage. Besides, I just got the presidency of a division in the company, and that’s much more fun than changing diapers.”

She patted his hand. “You never know until you try. The company isn’t a great comfort at night.”

Neil shook his head.

A long time ago he’d come to the conclusion you couldn’t have it all. He didn’t even want to have it all. He was too single-minded, too selfish. The one time he’d slipped and fallen in love he’d practically flunked out of college, his focus shot to hell. Then she’d turned out to be more interested in using him to make her rich boyfriend jealous, than marrying a guy still in school.

His mouth tightened momentarily, remembering that long ago humiliation, the incredulous voice saying she might marry someone like his brother, but not someone poor, with no money of his own. It just confirmed what he’d suspected all along; marriage wasn’t for him.

Especially to a woman like Libby Dumont.

She had a body that wouldn’t quit and a Puritan’s soul. Being married to a woman like that would drive a man insane. Why, Libby was probably still a virgin. Of course, there was nothing wrong with being a virgin, all girls started out that way. But making love to her would be like making love to a block of ice.

Wouldn’t it?

An image of how she had looked that afternoon—eyes flashing and angry color flooding her cheeks—went flying through his mind. She was obviously more passionate than he’d always believed.

Not that he wanted Libby as a lover.

Yet Neil shifted uncomfortably, remembering how his body had come to attention from a simple contact with her leg. It was hard to shut the door on old feelings, and she represented the last time he’d lost control—a vestige of high school days, of necking in cars and hoping to get lucky. He’d acted badly, then tried to put the blame on her like an immature kid. Not that it changed anything now; apologies so long after the fact were meaningless.

But Libby was right about one thing, they didn’t get along for a number of reasons, most of them having nothing to do with the past.

“I do wish Libby could have come tonight,” said his mother.

For an instant Neil wondered if she’d guessed he was thinking about Libby—something he was doing far too much—then decided he was being paranoid.

“She said she was busy.”

Across the room Dylan stood talking with Connor, the youngest of the O’Rourke sons, and Pegeen looked at him unhappily. “Do you think someone is courting Libby, and that’s why she couldn’t come tonight? Oh, if only Dylan had asked her out at Kane and Beth’s wedding when they were getting on so well,” she said, sounding thoroughly exasperated.

His nerves tightened. “Libby isn’t thinking about getting married, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“And how would you be knowin’ that?”

Damnation. Why had he opened his mouth? Now his mom would think there was something going on between him and Libby. “We were talking, that’s all, and she mentioned it.”

“Seems an odd thing to just say.”

Neil tugged at the neck of his shirt. He’d removed his tie earlier, but it felt tight, nonetheless. “It isn’t odd. I had to find out what her future plans were since she’s going to be my vice president.”

“What difference would that make?” Pegeen’s question sounded like something Libby would say.

“It’s just…uh, in her new position she’s going to be busy, have a lot to do, and getting married, that would be very distract…” His mother’s wise eyes were crinkled with amusement at his discomfort, so Neil gave up and slumped against the cushions. “Never mind,” he muttered.

Normally he enjoyed family gatherings, but tonight was an exception. It was little wonder, between his matchmaking mom and the edgy tension gripping him.

He was restless.

Charged up.

Ready to dive into running his division of the company and getting things set up the way he wanted them. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, and Libby was turning into one hell of a distraction.

Even when she wasn’t anywhere around.

By the time Neil reached work on Monday he was convinced he’d gotten everything out of his system. All the questions and confusion and mixed feelings. And the temptation.

He and Libby weren’t lover material.

Any interest in changing that condition probably stemmed from his ego. Basically, he was a man who thrived on challenges, and Libby was a challenge from the word go. Working with her would be another challenge, but he could do it. The best plan was to get the project off and running so they could focus on other duties that didn’t involve such close contact.

Stopping in front of Libby’s office, Neil watched for a moment unobserved.

She was outside in the secretary’s cubicle, Dunk’s gaze glued to her as she explained something. Dunk was a tall towhead, with hands and limbs that seemed too big for the rest of him. Though Neil expected to see something break or fly apart at any minute, nothing happened. Dunk even managed to safely pour himself a cup of coffee.

It was only when he turned around that he got nervous, and only when he spotted Neil.

“Mr. O’Rourke, h-hello.”

Mr. O’Rourke?

Libby was right, that did sound stuffy.

“Hi, Duncan. Please call me Neil.”

Dunk’s face was dubious. “Yes, sir. Thank you. I will…yes.” He edged away and hurried down the corridor.

Sir?

Great, that was certainly an improvement.

Neil looked at Libby in time to see her wipe a smile from her lips. “Good morning,” she said cheerfully.

At least she hadn’t called him Mr. O’Rourke, as well.

“Good morning. Did you enjoy your plans on Friday?”

She looked at him blankly. “Plans?”

“The reason you couldn’t attend my nieces’ birthday party.”

“Oh, fine.” Libby thought about her quiet Friday evening. She’d spent it scribbling down notes for the bed-and-breakfast proposal. Real exciting stuff. The biggest adrenaline rush of the entire weekend was when she’d dreamed something utterly inappropriate about Neil, but she couldn’t mention that. “How is your mother and Dylan and everyone?”

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