Reasons for Revenge: Scorned by the Boss

She nodded and closed the bathroom door. Leaning back against it, she wondered if he’d call Jason back. Tell him that the plan was working. Tell him that good ole Caitlyn was, as he had put it, falling right into line.

Caitlyn dropped the bags onto the white-tiled floor and leaned on the wide sweep of blue counter to stare at her own reflection. Her skin was tanned a bit from all the days in the sun. There were subtle highlights in her hair and sparks of fury in her eyes.

Keeping her voice low, she talked to her own image as if that reflection needed reassuring. “I’ve been resisting his advances for all the right reasons—but he’s been making those advances for all the wrong reasons. Well, it’s time he learned a lesson.”

Dinner was great. Even better than he’d hoped. He’d arranged for the private table again and between the moonlight, the candlelight and the ocean breeze, he couldn’t have ordered up a more romantic evening.

Now, as they walked along the sand, he saw Caitlyn was clearly enjoying herself. In fact, she seemed more open somehow to him. More affectionate. All to the good, he told himself, despite the twinge of conscience struggling to rear its ugly head.

His brother, Jason, had been wrong when he’d said, Using Caitlyn like this is going to backfire. Jason didn’t understand. He wasn’t using Caitlyn. He wasn’t doing this only for himself, after all. It was for her best, too. She loved her job. She was good at it. And she’d quit without thinking it through. She’d be glad to be back where she belonged.

“The beach is practically deserted,” she said, and her voice was so soft the warm wind nearly carried it away.

He shrugged but reached for her hand. Folding his fingers around hers, he said, “There’s some dance competition tonight in the main club.”

“Well, I’m glad. A moonlit beach is better when it’s empty.” She turned her face up to his and smiled, and just for a second Jefferson’s breath caught in his lungs. The shine of starlight was in her eyes and a pale wash of moonlight bathed her skin in an ivory glow.

She wore a summery dress with her bathing suit beneath it, and he suddenly wanted to see her in that bikini of hers again. In the daylight, at the pool, her body was warm and tanned and curvy. He wanted to know what all that soft skin looked like in the softer light of the moon. He wanted to touch her. To feel her reach for him, arch into him.

He wanted to kiss her again.

Fine. He could admit, at least to himself, that he’d been doing a lot of thinking about that kiss they’d shared. At the unexpected heat of it. Of the warm rush of something wild and tender that had pulsed inside him as she’d breathed into his mouth.

At last, when the brightly lit resort was far off in the distance, a smear of light in the dark, they stopped. Jefferson pulled two wide, plush towels from the bag he’d been carrying and spread them on the sand while Caitlyn watched. She kicked off her shoes and then turned her back to him.

“Help me with the zipper?”

He smoothed his fingertips across her back, dipped them beneath the soft cotton fabric of her dress and slowly pulled the back zipper down. She looked up at him over her shoulder and gave him a brilliant smile that punched into his stomach like a fist.

“Thanks.” Then, shaking her hair back from her face, she said, “I’m going for a swim. You coming?”

He watched her turn and run into the water, her long legs kicking through the waves that crested on the shore, sending spray flying through the air. His gaze locked on the curve of her behind, the narrowness of her waist, the elegant sweep of her arms as she lifted them to the night sky.

In a flash that took only seconds, his body went hard and hot and needy. Want pooled in his belly and reached up to grab at the base of his throat. Jefferson stripped out of his clothes and followed after her, unable to take his gaze from her. Unable to think about anything but reaching her, touching her, holding her.

He ran to the water’s edge and kept moving until he could dive into the oncoming surf. The warm tropical water surrounded him as he breached the surface and swung his hair out of his eyes. Spotting her just a few yards away, he swam to her and she smiled as he got closer. Moonlight was on her. In her. Shining from her eyes, dazzling her skin.

And his slow seduction went completely out of his head. He only knew he had to have her. Now.

“You’re beautiful,” he said—and was as surprised as she looked to find that he really meant it. Why had he never noticed before now?

How had he looked at her every morning for three years and not noticed the curve of her jaw, the depth of her eyes, the kissability of her mouth? He didn’t know. Didn’t care. All that mattered was the moment at hand.

He cupped her face in his palms, lowered his mouth to hers and tasted. Feasted. She rose up on her toes and the motion of the warm water surrounding them pushed her against him. He held her tightly, arms around her waist in a grip that defied anyone to try to pull her from his grasp.

Electrical-like charges sparkled in his veins and he felt the rush of need clawing to be freed. Again and again, he took her, his mouth plundering hers, taking as well as giving. He heard her sigh, felt the groan rippling up her throat and luxuriated in the sound.

She fed his need, and when her arms came around his neck and pulled his head down harder, more firmly to her own, Jefferson’s blood pumped hard and fast. He shifted, holding on to her with one arm, keeping her steady as the ocean lazily rocked them in a warm, soothing embrace. And he slid his free hand down her body, along her curves and down to the strip of fabric riding low on her hip.

Sliding beneath the edge of her white bikini, his fingers moved unerringly to the one spot he most craved to touch. To stroke. He found her heat and dipped inside. One finger, then another, sliding in and out of her tight center until she pulled her mouth free of his, tipped her head back and gasped for air like a woman drowning in sensation.

“Jefferson!” His name tore from her throat in a deep, rumbling groan.

“Let me,” he whispered, dipping his head to the hollow of her neck. Kissing, nibbling, running the edges of his teeth across her skin. He tasted her pulse, found it battering furiously in her veins and knew she felt what he did. Knew she wanted as badly as he did. And knew he couldn’t wait much longer to have her.

His fingers moved in and out of her hot sheath, setting a rhythm she strived to match. Her hips rocked with him, into him. She opened her thighs and hooked her legs around his middle, giving him deeper access. His thumb brushed at one sensitive spot, and he felt her shiver, heard her whispered intake of breath.

“So hot.” He breathed the words against her skin, moving his mouth up the length of her neck. Kissing her jaw, her cheek, her mouth again, loving the taste of her. “So right.”

She held on tightly now, her hands sliding over his water-slick back, her nails scraping his skin. She leaned back, arching into him, riding his hand with an abandon he wouldn’t have expected from the woman he had always considered the ultimate in tidy efficiency. He gave her what she needed, what they both needed. His fingers stroked and caressed and delved deep within until he felt the first ripple of her climax begin to overtake her. And then he took her mouth with his again, his tongue claiming hers as she whimpered with the staggering force of the orgasm he gave her.

When she was spent, he swept her into his arms and carried her from the ocean. She speared her fingers into his hair and kissed him, secure in the circle of his arms. She leaned into him, pressing her breasts to his chest, kissing him, giving him everything she had.

Quickly he laid her down on the towels spread on the still-warm sand and just as quickly pulled her bikini off and tossed it aside. Moonlight was all she wore now and it graced her curves, her skin, like an ivory cloak. She lifted her arms to him and said, “Now, Jefferson, I want it all now.”

He stripped off his own bathing trunks, stretched out beside her and allowed himself the sheer pleasure of touching her all over. He dipped his head to her breasts and one after the other he took her dark, hardened nipples into his mouth. She groaned again as he suckled her and he felt the magic of her pouring into him.

Her every sigh inflamed him. Her every breath urged him on. She moved beneath him, and his body tightened until he felt as though he were going to explode, shatter. He shifted over her, needing completion, needing to feel himself held within her.

She parted her legs for him and met his first thrust with a lift of her hips that took him deep inside her heat. He felt her acceptance, felt her welcome and lost himself in the fire building between them.

Again and again they came together in the pale shadows. With whispered words and half-muttered sighs, they became the rhythm that pulsed between them. With the stars overhead and the faint sound of music drifting to them from far away, Jefferson stared down into her wide brown eyes and felt himself drowning in their depths.

Eight

Caitlyn told herself it was a victory. She hadn’t been used. She had been the one doing the using.

But the victory was an empty one and she knew it. She’d expected to have sex with him, enjoy herself and move on. Put him firmly and completely behind her. But since her body was still humming and her heart was racing frantically in her chest, she knew now that had been a big mistake.

She stared up into his eyes and felt her heart turn over. Strange, she’d heard that expression most of her life and until now she’d always thought it was just that: an expression. Now she knew there was more to it than that.

She was in love with Jefferson Lyon.

A man who couldn’t be less interested in her.

Just perfect.

“Aah,” he said, easing himself to one side of her, gently disentangling their bodies. “That was …”

“Amazing?” she offered in a chipper voice despite the cold emptiness she felt at his absence. “Wonderful? The earth moved?”

He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at her. His eyes were filled with shadows, making them all but impossible to read. And maybe, Caitlyn thought, that was for the best.

“All of the above,” he said, then paused and added with a wince, “plus … unprotected.”

That gave her a quick jolt. Stupid to have not thought of that. No excuse, really.

He shoved one hand through his wet hair as he shook his head in self-disgust. “That’s never happened to me before,” he admitted. “I’ve never lost control like that. Look, Caitlyn, I wasn’t thinking. I can apologize, but that won’t do either of us any good.”

“It’s all right.” The words forced themselves past the knot in her throat. Sitting up, she reached for the dress she’d torn off only a few minutes ago. “I mean, it was stupid. Of both of us. But as long as you’re healthy, you don’t have to worry about pregnancy or anything. I’m on the pill.”

“I am,” he said. “Healthy, I mean.”

“Then, there’s no problem, is there?” Except, of course, for the gaping open wound on her heart. But that wasn’t his problem; it was hers.

Standing up, she stepped into her dress, pulled it up and struggled with the back zipper. In a flash, he was standing behind her. His fingers brushed against her skin, sending tingles of sensation rippling through her as he zipped up the dress.

“Thanks.” She heard him getting dressed but didn’t turn around. Didn’t watch him. Damn it, what was she supposed to do now? It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she knew all about his childish plan to trick her back into working for him. She wanted to face him, see his eyes when he realized that she had known how he’d planned to use her.

But something stopped her.

Call it foolish. Hell, call it stupid. But it was there. The urge to keep quiet. To just go along with his plan, let him think it was working. Let him think he’d lulled her into believing he wanted her. There was time enough to disabuse him of the idea. She could face him down later with the stinging truth.

And then maybe it wouldn’t feel so raw to her. Maybe then she’d be feeling less hurt and more righteously indignant.

He turned her around and pulled her into his arms. Silently, she went into his embrace, laid her head on his chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart. His arms cradled her, his chin rested on top of her head. When he released a long breath, it almost felt to her like a sigh.

Which just went to prove that her heart was too easily led at the moment.

“I don’t know what to say to you,” he whispered, still holding her, standing there quietly as if he could hold that position all night and not want anything else.

He was good, Caitlyn thought with a pang. She’d never really given him the credit he deserved. No wonder he always had women draped all over him. His touch, his words, the heavy sighs. The man was a consummate actor. He almost had her fooled, despite knowing the truth.

“Don’t say anything,” Caitlyn said, and meant every word. She didn’t want to hear any more lies. Not now. Not when everything she was feeling for him was so tender. So easily bruised.

“I want to, though.”

No, don’t, she thought but knew he wouldn’t keep silent. Knew that if he was going to play his role well, now he had to tell how much he cared for her. To set the stage, so to speak. To keep her soft and gooey for him—and, oh, how it infuriated her to know that if she hadn’t heard that phone call of his, she would have been just what he was expecting.

He shifted her in his arms, drew back slightly and lifted both hands to cup her face. His thumbs smoothed across her cheekbones and his gaze moved over her with a caress as palpable as a touch.

“Being with you,” he said, his tone soft, tempting, “was more than I thought it would be. It touched me, Caitlyn.”

She felt the sting of tears and furiously fought them back. She wouldn’t give him one tear. Wouldn’t allow him to one day look back at this moment and think to himself what a fine job he’d done. Instead, she used his words to bolster her own defenses. To remind her that this was a man who was clearly willing to do whatever he had to to achieve his goals.

“Me, too,” she said, and forced herself to kiss him briefly, lightly, before stepping out of his arms to give herself a chance to settle.

“Me, too?” he echoed. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

She glanced at him, noted the confusion on his face and took a sort of dark cheer from it. “It was great, Jefferson. You were great. But I’m cold now and I want to go back to the hotel.”

“Oh.” Nodding, he swept up their towels and bathing suits, shook out the sand and tossed the whole mess over his shoulder. Reaching out, he took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Let’s get back to the room, then. We can talk more there.”

His fingers were warm and strong and just for a minute, she let herself pretend that they really were a couple. That their lovemaking had meant something. That there was a future for them beyond the comeuppance that Jefferson so had coming to him.

But when he smiled down at her with the patented Jefferson Lyon seduction smile, Caitlyn inhaled sharply. Her heart ached and she wondered if she was going to be able to play along with this after all. Despite being furious with him, she loved him. And dragging this out was going to be harder on her than it would be on him.

Yet … she knew she would play the game he had begun. Because, when it was all over, she would at least have some memories of them together.

Setting herself up for even bigger pain down the road? Probably. But at the moment, with her blood still humming and her body still tingling from his touch, it seemed a good enough trade-off.

Jefferson was having a great time. Well, not at the moment, as he had just gotten off the phone with Georgia, who could make any rational, sane man want to tear his hair out.

But on the whole, this time on the island had been good. He stood outside a village shop waiting for Caitlyn to come back to him and realized that he was actually enjoying himself.

The sun was hot, but the air off the ocean sifted through the heat, soothing him and everyone else on the brick-paved street. The air was spicy with the scent of the flowers lining the walkways and from somewhere down the street came the rhythmic sound of steel-drum music.

It had been years since he’d had a real vacation. And he was only just realizing how much he’d needed this break from the everyday world. But it wasn’t just being away from work that felt so invigorating. It was Caitlyn.

She was fun. Exciting. And more alluring than he would ever have thought possible. He had no idea how he could have worked with her for so long and never noticed just how amazing she really was. She was different from every other woman he’d ever known.

Easy enough to understand, he reassured himself constantly. They had a real connection. A relationship that went beyond the bedroom. They talked and laughed about their families. She understood his work, his company, as well as he did. She had an adventurous spirit—always willing to try something new, something different.

Through her enthusiasm, she made him see everything around him in a new light. Ordinarily. he was a man who thought an hour away from his work was an hour lost. Now he looked forward to every damn day with her.

Together, they had taken surfing lessons—and watching her try time after time to stand up for more than a second, he’d felt admiration for her stubborn determination. They went parasailing behind a boat, and he would never forget the sound of her laughter as she danced in the wind beneath a rainbow-colored parachute. They danced in the resort’s club every night, and when they went back to her room, they lay together in the wide bed.

He leaned one shoulder against a light pole and squinted into the sun, staring blindly at the people who passed him by. He was caught in some sort of weird place where all he wanted was for her to smile at him. For her to touch him and reach for him during the night. Night after night he held her, made love to her and woke next to her in the morning. Another first for him. Jefferson wasn’t the kind of man who hung around after sex. He didn’t like “morning afters” and had made a point of never having one of his women spend the night at his home.

But with Caitlyn he found he wanted to watch her wake up. Wanted to be the first thing she saw when she opened those amazing brown eyes of hers.

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