The Daddy Wish

Nate shifted so that his shoulder brushed against hers, and he lowered his mouth closer to her ear.

“Since that kiss we shared under the mistletoe, I haven’t been able to go much longer than that without thinking about you. And when I think about that kiss, I remember how good your body felt against mine, and how surprised—and incredibly turned on—I was by the passion of your response.”

“You’re right,” Allison said. “Our memories are different. But considering that we’re going to be working closely together, I think it would be best if we both just forgot about that kiss.”

“I already know that I can’t.”

“Maybe you just need to try a little harder.”

“Are you saying that you have forgotten?”

“I’m saying that I’m not going to let anything interfere with our working relationship.”

“I know how to separate business from pleasure,” he assured her.

“Let’s keep the focus on business,” she suggested.

“That doesn’t sound like nearly as much fun.”

“I like my job and I want to keep my job. Which means I’m definitely not going to sleep with my boss.”

His lips curved. “I’m not your boss yet.”

Those Engaging Garretts! The Carolina Cousins

The Daddy Wish

Brenda Harlen

www.millsandboon.co.uk

BRENDA HARLEN is a former attorney who once had the privilege of appearing before the Supreme Court of Canada. The practice of law taught her a lot about the world and reinforced her determination to become a writer—because in fiction, she could promise a happy ending! Now she is an award-winning, national bestselling author of more than thirty titles for Mills & Boon. You can keep up to date with Brenda on Facebook and Twitter or through her website, brendaharlen.com.

Writing is often a solitary venture … but not this time!

During the writing of much of this book, I was blessed with the company of an incredible group of women, and I would like to dedicate this story to the CBs who were an integral part of the process: CMS, JenB, RSS, GP and Theresa, with an extra special thank you to JenB and “Mr JenB” for their generosity and hospitality.

(xo “35”)

This story is also dedicated to Becky with thanks for the tour, the stories, and answers to my endless questions. All the good stuff is hers—any mistakes made or liberties taken are my own.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

The Garrett Furniture Christmas party was held at the Courtland Hotel in downtown Charisma, as it had been for each of the past six years that Allison Caldwell had worked for the company. The main ballroom was decorated for the occasion with miles of pine garland, dozens of potted evergreens twinkling with lights and white poinsettias at the center of every table. The meal was a traditional roast turkey dinner served family style, with stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, buttered corn, baby carrots, green beans and cranberry sauce.

The Garretts always treated their staff well—from holiday parties to summer picnics, from comprehensive benefit packages to generous vacation allowances—and Allison would always be grateful that a three-week temp position had paved the way to her becoming the executive assistant to the CFO. Tonight, she was seated at a table with three coworkers from the finance department and their respective spouses, and throughout the meal, conversation flowed as freely as the wine. No one seemed to notice or care that she was on her own. No one except Allison.

She’d been married once—for all of two minutes. Actually, it had been two and a half years, but that two-and-a-half-year marriage had ended six years earlier. Since the divorce, she’d become accustomed to attending social events on her own, and she usually preferred it that way.

But on this night, only twelve days before Christmas, as she watched various couples snuggle up to each other in the corners or move together on the dance floor, she was suddenly and painfully aware of her solitary status. Aware that she would be going home to a dark and empty apartment because Dylan was spending the weekend with his dad’s new family. Her eight-year-old son was the light of her life, the reason for everything she did, and she missed him unbearably when he was gone.

A surreptitious glance at her watch confirmed that it was almost eleven o’clock—still early for the die-hard partyers but an acceptable time for her to head out. She wished her boss and his wife a merry Christmas, then made her way to the cloakroom to get her coat.

She paused in the wide arched entranceway when she heard voices emanating from within. It took only a few seconds for her to realize there was only one voice—and that it was a familiar one. Nathan Garrett, the CFO’s nephew and heir apparent, who would be her boss one day, was talking to someone on the cell phone that was pressed up against his ear. Glancing up, he flashed her the quick, easy smile that never failed to make all of her womanly parts tingle.

All of the Garretts—men, women and children—were beautiful people, and Nathan was no exception. He stood about six-two, with a lean but powerful build that was showcased nicely in formal business attire. His hair was dark, his eyes were an amazing gray that—depending on his mood—looked like smoke or steel, and dimples flashed when he smiled. It was those dimples that got to her, every time.

Not that she’d ever let him know it. Because the man was a major player, and Allison had learned her lesson about players a long time ago.

He disconnected his call and dropped the phone into his jacket pocket.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” she said.

“A beautiful woman is never an intrusion,” he assured her.

She stepped into the room and began looking for her coat, silently berating herself for the warm flush that colored her cheeks. She didn’t respond, because what could she say in response to flirtatious words that came as naturally to him as breathing? And how pathetic was it that she could recognize the fact and still not be able to control the tingle?

“You’re not planning to leave already?”

She’d assumed he’d gone and was startled to hear the question, and his voice, so close to her ear.

“It’s a great party,” she said. “But—”

“So stay and enjoy it,” he interrupted.

“I can’t. I’ve got a busy weekend.” She told herself that wasn’t really a lie, because she did have to get Dylan’s Christmas presents wrapped, and that was a task easier done when her son wasn’t around.

Finally spotting her coat, she tugged it off its hanger.

“Well, you can’t go just yet,” he insisted.

“Why not?”

He stepped closer, so close that their bodies were almost touching. She wanted to step back, to give herself space to breathe, but the rack of coats at her back prevented her from doing so.

Nate lifted a hand and gestured to the arched entranceway. “Because you stepped under the mistletoe.”

She frowned at the sprig of green leaves and white berries and tried to ignore the wild pounding of her heart inside her chest. “Why would someone put mistletoe in a cloakroom?”

“I have no idea.” He crooked a finger beneath her chin to tip her head up. “But tradition demands that a woman passing under mistletoe must be kissed—and I’m a traditional kind of guy.”

She couldn’t think, she didn’t know how to respond to that, and before her brain could scramble to find any words at all, his lips were on hers.

And...oh...wow.

The man definitely knew how to kiss.

Of course, she would have been disappointed to learn otherwise. After all, he had a reputation for seducing women with a word, bringing them to orgasm with a smile and breaking their hearts with a wave goodbye. She’d always assumed those rumors were at least slightly exaggerated, but as his mouth moved over hers, promising all kinds of wicked, sensual pleasures, she was forced to acknowledge that she might have been wrong.

A slow, lazy sweep of his tongue over her lower lip nearly made her whimper. The sensual caress did make her lips part, not just granting him entry but welcoming him inside.

His free hand slid around her back, gently urging her closer. She didn’t—couldn’t—resist. The coat slipped from her fingers and dropped to her feet, forgotten. There was so much heat coursing through her system, she might never need a coat again. Her hands slid up his chest to his shoulders and she held on, as if he were her anchor in the storm of sensations that battered at her system, pounding self-preservation and common sense into submission.

His tongue danced with hers, a slow and seductive rhythm that teased and enticed. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she should be disappointed to realize that she was no different from any other woman who had succumbed to his charms. But in the moment, in his arms, she really didn’t care.

While her body might urge her to let one kiss lead to a mutually satisfying conclusion, she still had enough working brain cells to acknowledge that tangling the sheets with a man who would one day be her boss could be a very big mistake. She eased away from him.

“That’s some powerful mistletoe,” she said, trying to make light of the intensity of her response.

“I don’t think we can blame that on the mistletoe.” He bent down to retrieve her coat, then helped her into it. “I’m leaving in the morning to go skiing with some friends, but I’ll see you when I get back.”

He smiled again, but she ignored the tingles, reminding herself that her job was too important for her to jeopardize for the pleasure of a few hours in his bed. So she only responded with, “My ride should be here by now.”

He walked out with her, and she stopped beside the cab that was idling at the curb. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Garrett.”

He reached past her for the door handle, but didn’t immediately open it. “Don’t you think, after that kiss, you could drop the formality and call me Nate?”

No, she couldn’t. Because calling him by his given name implied a familiarity she wasn’t ready for. “Have a safe trip, Mr. Garrett.”

He shook his head, but he was smiling as he opened the door. “I’ll talk to you soon, Allison.”

She slid into the backseat and gave the driver her address.

He stood on the curb, watching as the cab drove away, but she didn’t let herself look back.

Chapter One

Allison wasn’t usually the type to spend too much time fussing over her appearance. She never left her apartment looking less than professional—that was a matter of pride—but she didn’t usually bother with more than a cursory brush with the mascara wand to darken her fair lashes and a quick swipe of gloss to moisturize her lips.

On the first morning after the holidays, when she found herself digging into her makeup bag for rarely used eye shadow and lipstick, she told herself that she simply wanted a new image for the new year. That the extra care she was taking with her appearance was in no way linked to the possibility that she might cross paths with Nathan Garrett at the office today.

Finally satisfied with the results of her efforts, she poked her head into her son’s bedroom. “Come on, Dylan. You don’t want to be late on your first day back.”

“Yeah, I do,” he told her. “School sucks.”

She held back a sigh. It worried her that he had such a negative attitude toward school when he was only in third grade, but she’d long ago given up trying to change his opinion and focused her efforts on getting him to class on time. “Okay, but I don’t want to be late on my first day back.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “How come you’re all dressed up?”

“What do you mean? I wear this suit to work all the time.”

“But you don’t wear all that gunk on your face.”

She had no ready response to that. If the “slight” improvement she’d been aiming for was obvious enough that her eight-year-old son noticed, she’d definitely gone overboard.

“And your hair’s different,” he said.

“Go eat your cereal, then brush your teeth,” she told him.

It had taken her almost twenty minutes to do her makeup and hair, and less than five to wipe the color off her face and tuck her hair into its usual loose knot at the back of her head.

Dylan didn’t comment on the changes, which she interpreted to mean that she now looked as she usually did. She certainly wasn’t going to turn any heads when she walked into the office, and maybe that was for the best. Far too many women tripped over themselves trying to catch Nathan Garrett’s eye, and she’d always taken pride in the fact that she wasn’t one of them.

After dropping her son off at school, she drove across town to the offices of Garrett Furniture, trying not to think about what had happened at the company Christmas party.

Of course, her efforts were futile. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t seen or heard from Nathan in the twenty-three days that had passed since they’d connected under the mistletoe—she hadn’t stopped thinking about him or THE KISS.

Which was ridiculous, because he really wasn’t her type. Not that she had a type—she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had a date. But if she did have a type, it would not be a too rich, too sexy, too good-looking and far too self-assured man who had a reputation for enjoying women of all types.

She decided it was a good thing that she’d wiped off her makeup and tied back her hair. The last thing she needed was for Nathan Garrett—or anyone else in the office—to think that she was interested in him.

Maybe her response wasn’t about the particular man so much as the fact that she hadn’t been kissed (even in lowercase letters) in a very long time. Maybe that was the real reason he’d stirred up desires so long dormant, she hadn’t been certain she was capable of feeling them anymore. Maybe she didn’t want her boss’s nephew so much as she wanted to connect with someone. Anyone.

As a single mother, she didn’t have time to be lonely—except for every other weekend when Dylan was with his dad, and Dylan had been with his dad the night of the Christmas party. She never would have stayed out so late, or let herself drink so much, if her son had been waiting for her at home. Not that she’d had so much to drink—probably not more than three glasses of wine. But she’d decided that being under the influence of alcohol was a convenient explanation for her uncharacteristic behavior.

And now she was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush on the most popular boy in class—trying to pretty herself up to get his attention. It was pathetic, especially when she wasn’t even sure that she liked the guy all that much.

Not that she disliked him.

Allison blew out a frustrated breath. This was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous—spending far too much time obsessing over THE KISS and in danger of starting to think about Nathan Garrett as THE MAN. He was simply a man—no more and no less. Even if he was a man who could kiss far better than any other man in her experience.

She pulled into her usual parking spot and turned off the ignition. After the holiday, she was eager to get back into the familiar routines of work again, but she stopped by the break room first to grab a cup of coffee. While there, she wished a happy New Year to Melanie Hedley, who was doing the same.

“How was your holiday?” Melanie asked.

“Quiet,” Allison said. “Yours?”

“Amazing.” The other woman fairly gushed the word. “I went to Vail before Christmas and stayed at this fabulous condo resort that had fireplaces in every bedroom and hot tubs on all the decks. And Nate and I discovered the most incredible little café tucked away in the foothills.”

Allison sloshed coffee over the back of her hand and sucked in a sharp breath as the hot liquid scalded her skin. “That does sound...amazing,” she said, grabbing a paper napkin to wipe the spilled coffee off her hand.

“Lanie—” Enrico Sanchez poked his head into the room “—we need you on that conference call.”

“Oh, right.” Melanie smiled at her. “We’ll catch up more later.”

Allison added a splash of cream to her cup, stirring mechanically while all the excited anticipation that had fueled her buoyant mood only a few minutes earlier fizzled out like air from a balloon.

She wasn’t unaware of Nate’s reputation, but it still hurt to realize that, only a few days after he’d kissed her, he’d been dining with Melanie in Colorado. It shouldn’t. She had no right to be upset or disappointed or anything. He’d certainly never made her any promises, and she wouldn’t have believed him if he had.

So why had she let her own imagination paint unrealistic dreams? Why had she ever let herself believe that THE KISS had been anything more than a kiss?

She hated being taken for a fool. Worse, she hated being a fool. She sat down at her desk and turned on her computer, determined to put all thoughts of the man from her mind once and for all.

John Garrett walked in while she was still reviewing email messages that had come through over the holidays. He was a good boss and a genuinely wonderful man, and she greeted him with a sincere smile.

The smile froze on her lips when he said, “I’m glad you’re here—I need to talk to you about Nathan.”

* * *

Allison took her iPad into John Garrett’s office.

Though he’d said he wanted to talk to her about Nathan, she didn’t think there was any way he could know what had happened at the Christmas party. But HR frowned upon personal relationships in the workplace, and her heart was hammering against her ribs as she perched on the edge of the chair facing his desk.

The CFO looked uncharacteristically burdened and weary. She could practically feel the knots forming in her belly—twisting and tightening—as it occurred to her that she might very well be on the verge of losing her job because she’d had too much to drink and had foolishly and impulsively let herself get caught under the mistletoe by her boss’s heir apparent.

“You’re no doubt aware that Nathan has been chosen to take over as CFO when I retire,” John continued.

She exhaled slowly, reassured by his opening that whatever this was about, it wasn’t about the kiss. (The brief exchange with Melanie in the staff room had succeeded in relegating the event to lowercase status.) Her relief was so profound, it took several seconds longer than it should have for the rest of his statement to sink in.

Retirement? Why was he mentioning it now?

“But that’s not until June,” she noted. And only then if he didn’t decide to postpone it again, as he’d done twice already.

“Actually, I’m going to be finished here as of the end of January.”

“What? Why?”

“I had a little bit of a health scare over the holidays,” he admitted.

She was instantly and sincerely concerned. John Garrett might be her boss, but over the six years that they’d worked together, he’d also become a friend and something of a father figure to her. “What happened? Why didn’t anyone call me?”

“It was just a minor blip with my heart—nothing too serious.”

The fact that he was sitting behind his desk and not in a hospital bed confirmed that it wasn’t too serious, but she knew him well enough to suspect that he was downplaying the “minor” part.

But what did this mean for her? Would she be let go? Was John telling her now as a way of giving her notice that she would be out of a job at the end of the month?

“Nathan’s worked hard for the company for a lot of years,” he continued. “He’s not getting this promotion just because his name is Garrett but because he’s earned it.”

She nodded, her heart sinking as she considered the repercussions of his announcement. She was confident that she could find another job; she knew John would give her a glowing recommendation. But she wasn’t nearly as confident that she would find another job with the comprehensive health-care benefits she needed for the ongoing treatment of her son’s asthma.

“That being said, I wanted to be certain that you don’t have any concerns about working with him.”

“Working with him?” she echoed.

“Is that going to be a problem?”

“No, of course not,” she hastily assured him, because she wouldn’t let it be a problem. Because he was offering her the chance to keep her job—and her benefits—and she would make it work.

As for the mind-numbing, bone-melting kiss she’d shared with her soon-to-be boss...what kiss?

“I just assumed he’d want to choose his own executive assistant,” she said, still not entirely sure Nathan wouldn’t do exactly that.

“We’ve already discussed it,” John said. “He wants you.”

She knew he only meant that his nephew wanted her to work for him, but that knowledge didn’t prevent her cheeks from flushing in response to his words.

“Now that that’s settled, I need you to book a flight to St. Louis for next Thursday,” he told her. “There are some minor discrepancies in their numbers that need to be looked at.”

Which could probably be done via email, but John had always preferred a hands-on approach.

“Considering the ‘minor blip’ with your heart, I’m surprised your doctors have given you the okay to fly.”

“They haven’t,” he admitted. “So you’ll be going with Nathan.”

Allison had to bite her tongue to hold back her instinctive protest as she rose from her chair. It wasn’t unusual for John to request that she accompany him on his business trips, but going anywhere with the man who’d kissed her more thoroughly than anyone else in recent memory—maybe ever—filled her with apprehension.

Thankfully, St. Louis was only a two-hour flight from Raleigh, which meant that the trip would be completed in one day. It would be a long day—with a departure at 8:35 a.m. and a return fourteen hours later—but only one day. The trips that the CFO made to review the books of the Gallery stores—more upscale showrooms that carried exclusive, higher-end inventory—located in Austin, Denver, San Francisco, Saint Paul, New York, Philadelphia and Miami, required more time and attention, sometimes necessitating a two or three-night stay.

As Allison returned to her desk, she could only hope that Nathan would decide he didn’t need his executive assistant to accompany him on those, because she didn’t trust herself to spend that much time in close proximity to the man. Sex had never been casual to her. Even when she was in college, she’d never hooked up with a guy just for a good time. And she’d tried to steer clear of the guys who were reputed to sleep with different girls every weekend. No doubt, Nathan Garrett had been one of those guys.

She’d heard rumors of his extracurricular activities, and while the whispered details might vary, the overall consensus was that the current VP of Finance definitely knew how to pleasure a woman.