Wanted by the Boss: Sleeping with the Boss / Cowboy Boss / Billionaire Boss

‘‘Fine. You?’’

‘‘Great.’’

‘‘Good.’’

‘‘Good,’’ he said, his gaze locked on hers and burning with unspoken words. ‘‘I missed—’’

She held her breath.

‘‘—breakfast in bed,’’ he finished.

‘‘Me too.’’

‘‘With you, I mean,’’ Rick said, standing up and moving around the edge of his desk. ‘‘I missed a lot of things. Missed hearing you breathing in the dark.’’

‘‘Rick…’’

‘‘I missed reaching for you and finding you there, hot and ready.’’

‘‘Yeah well,’’ Eileen admitted after inhaling sharply, ‘‘I kind of missed being reached for.’’

‘‘So what’re we gonna do?’’

‘‘I guess we’re gonna keep this going for a while, huh?’’

‘‘Is that what you want?’’ he asked.

‘‘Depends. Is it what you want?’’

He took her hand and yanked her close enough that she could feel his hard strength pressing into her abdomen. ‘‘You tell me.’’

‘‘Okeydoke, then.’’ Her body burst into flames. She knew because her mouth was suddenly dry. ‘‘After work. My place?’’

‘‘After work,’’ he repeated, and reluctantly released her. ‘‘But for now,’’ he said as he walked back to his desk chair, ‘‘I need to see the Baker files.’’

‘‘You bet,’’ she said, and turned around, headed back to the outer office. She felt him watching her with every step.

Two hours later, Rick was closeted with a client and Eileen’s phone was ringing.

‘‘Hawkins Financial.’’

‘‘Hello, honey!’’

Eileen smiled into the phone. ‘‘Hi, Gran.’’

‘‘How’s it going?’’

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, pausing to think. Hmm. How to describe what was going on around here. ‘‘It’s going…fine.’’ Safe, boring and as far from the truth as she could get. But what else was she going to tell her grandma? That Rick was the best sex she’d ever had?

Good God.

Right after recovering from her heart attack, Gran would drag Eileen to St. Steven’s and stretch her out prostrate on the altar. Nope. Sometimes a comfortable lie was better than the truth.

‘‘Good. I knew everything would work out as soon as you were able to let go of the whole ‘Rick was mean to me’ issue from your childhood.’’

‘‘Issue?’’ Eileen pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it for a moment through thoughtful, narrowed eyes. Then she snapped it back and asked, ‘‘Have you been watching that talk show again?’’

‘‘Dr. Mike is a very smart man,’’ Gran said.

‘‘Oh,’’ she said dryly, ‘‘I’ll bet.’’ Gran’s favorite TV psychologist had an answer for everything from hair loss to potty training and wasn’t the least bit shy about sharing them. And women like her grandmother ate it up.

‘‘He’s simply trying to help people face and confront their fears.’’ A long pause. ‘‘You might think about watching him sometime, dear.’’

Eileen sighed and pulled her hands back from the keyboard. Giving the closed door to Rick’s office a quick look, she said, ‘‘I don’t have any fears to confront, Gran. But thanks for thinking of me.’’

‘‘Commitment-phobic people always claim that.’’

‘‘What?’’ Her eyes bugged out and Eileen slapped one hand over them to prevent another contact lens search.

‘‘Dr. Mike says that people who are afraid to get hurt should just jump in and take the risk anyway. It’s healthy.’’

‘‘Dr. Mike can kiss my—’’

‘‘Eileen Ryan!’’

‘‘Gran.’’ Instantly apologetic, Eileen remembered where she was and lowered her voice. ‘‘I’m sorry. But seriously, stop trying to cure me by watching television. And, I don’t need a cure. There’s nothing wrong with me, anyway.’’

‘‘Nothing a husband and kids wouldn’t fix,’’ her grandmother argued.

Eileen’s chin hit her chest. Gran had been singing the same song for years. ‘‘Not everyone is going to live happily ever after, you know? Not everyone wants to.’’

‘‘Yes, but you do. I know you’re lonely, Eileen. Do you think I don’t notice how you watch Bridie and her family? Do you think I don’t see that sheen of tears in your eyes when you hold the baby?’’

Eileen huffed out a sigh. Fine. So she felt a little sorry for herself sometimes. Who didn’t? Did that make her a potential customer for Dr. Mike? No, she didn’t think so. What it made her was human. Sure she envied Bridie’s happiness a little. But Eileen was happy, too. Her life was just the way she wanted it.

And the phrase, methinks you protest too much, floated through her mind before she had a chance to cut it off at the pass.

‘‘Look, Gran,’’ she said quickly, ‘‘I’ve gotta go. Rick needs something.’’ A small lie, she plea-bargained with the gods as they no doubt made a little black mark on her soul. Lying to sweet old ladies didn’t go down real well in the world of Karma.

‘‘Fine, fine, I don’t want to keep you,’’ Gran said in the tone that clearly said she wasn’t ready to hang up yet.

‘‘I’ll call you later.’’

‘‘Come for dinner.’’

‘‘I—can’t,’’ she said, remembering that she’d be busy after work. ‘‘But I’ll call. Promise.’’

‘‘All right, but I really think you should—’’

‘‘Gotta go, Gran. Seriously.’’ Eileen bent over her desk, still talking while she lowered the receiver toward its base. ‘‘Honest. Gotta go.’’ Her grandmother was still talking. ‘‘Bye.’’

Then she hung up, knowing that she’d be paying for that one later.

Sitting back in her chair, Eileen thought about everything Gran had said. Lonely? Sure, she was lonely sometimes. Wasn’t everyone? But on the whole, she liked her life. It was good. Full. And just the way she wanted it. She liked an empty house. The silence. The time to herself.

So why then was she so glad that Rick would be coming over to the house after work?

* * *

The small beach house was just the way he imagined Eileen’s place would look. Craftsman style, the front of the house was all wood and aged stone. It had to be at least sixty years old, with charm in the hand-carved porch railings and the stone balustrades.

He parked his luxury sedan at the curb and paused beside his car to take a good look at her place. Just a few blocks inland from the beach, the house was surrounded by greenery and fall flowers. Painted a bright sunshine-yellow with forest-green trim, the cottage looked warm and inviting. White wicker furniture on the porch invited a visit and the porch light gleamed with a soft pink glow. Naturally Eileen wouldn’t have just a plain old white bulb in there. She’d go for color.

Reaching into the car, he pulled out the bottle of iced chardonnay he’d brought along, then started up the rosebush-lined walk. He caught himself wondering what colors those now bare roses might be in the summer. But as soon as the thought entered his mind, he dismissed it. He wouldn’t be around long enough to find out anyway.

Rick smiled to himself as he climbed the five front steps. The cement had been painted. Somehow, Eileen had laid out a pattern and then painted the porch and steps to look like a faded, flowered Oriental rug. It looked great, but he couldn’t help wondering how she’d ever thought of it. Who the hell painted rugs on cement?

The front door opened.

Eileen stood in the open doorway. Her hair was loose, falling around her shoulders in soft red-gold waves. She wore a short white tank top with slender straps and a pair of faded denim shorts. Her feet were bare and her legs looked impossibly long. His mouth watered and he forgot all about the faux rug on the porch. Forgot about the new client he’d picked up over lunch. Forgot about the wine in his hands. All he could focus on was her.

And heaven help him, what she did to him.

‘‘Hi.’’

She smiled and his breath left him. Her eyes lit up and her features brightened and his blood pumped a little faster. ‘‘Hi back,’’ he said.

‘‘That for me?’’ She indicated the wine.

‘‘Yeah.’’

‘‘Want some now?’’ she asked, stepping back to let him in.

‘‘Not thirsty,’’ he said, entering the house, then closing the door behind him.

‘‘Me, neither,’’ she said, taking the wine from him long enough to drop it onto the nearby couch.

‘‘Good,’’ he muttered, and grabbed her, pulling her close, wrapping his arms around her and holding on as if his grip on her meant his life. And maybe, just for the moment, it did.

She went up on her toes and met his kiss coming in. Her lips parted, her breath left her, rushing to him, and his tongue swept into her mouth, instantly demanding, plundering, pushing her back to the brink she now knew so well.

He tore his mouth from hers and laid down a path of hot, damp kisses along the column of her throat. She moaned softly, holding on to his shoulders and arching into him. His hands lifted the hem of her shirt and swept beneath the fabric to cup her breasts, his fingers teasing, tweaking, caressing.

She hissed in a breath through clenched teeth and held it, as if afraid she wouldn’t be able to draw another. Rick nibbled at her neck, tasted the frantic pulse beat at the base of her throat, and felt his own heartbeat kick into high gear and match the wild rhythm of hers.

Lifting his head, he continued to palm her breasts, rubbing the tips of her nipples just to watch a glassy sheen dazzle her eyes. ‘‘Bedroom?’’

She licked her lips, blinked a couple of times, then tried to focus on his face. Lifting one hand, she pointed. ‘‘Thataway.’’

‘‘Let’s go,’’ he said, and bent low enough to plant one shoulder in her middle. Then he stood up, draping her across one shoulder.

‘‘Hey!’’ Both hands on his back, she pushed herself up. ‘‘What’s with the caveman routine?’’

He gave her behind a friendly swat. ‘‘Quicker this way.’’

‘‘Okay then,’’ she said, and let herself drop against his back while he crossed the room in a few long strides. ‘‘As long as there’s a good reason.’’

Rick moved through the living room without even looking at it. Right now, he wasn’t interested in the decor. All he was interested in was Eileen. And finding that sweet satisfaction he’d only ever found with her. He needed her, damn it.

He didn’t want to.

Hadn’t planned to.

But in the space of one long weekend, she’d become…important. His grip on her tightened in response to that thought, but he didn’t linger on it. Didn’t want to consider what ramifications might be lurking behind that one little word, important.

He glanced through one open doorway. Green tiles, parrots in jungle shower curtain. Bathroom.

‘‘Turn left,’’ she said, as he paused in the hallway.

He did.

‘‘No, the other left,’’ she corrected, pushing herself up again. ‘‘My left. This upside down and backward trying to give directions thing sucks.’’

‘‘You’re a backseat driver, too, aren’t you?’’

‘‘Only trying to help.’’

He walked into her bedroom, noted the queen-size bed covered with a pale blue-and-white quilt, and ignored everything else. A small, beside lamp was on, sending a pale yellow light spreading across the blanket. Bending down, he flipped her onto the mattress and she laughed when she landed and bounced a couple of times.

‘‘There’s just nothing like a Neanderthal,’’ she said, stretching like a cat on the bed.

‘‘Glad you approve.’’

‘‘Oh, yeah.’’

Eileen watched him through eyes already hazy with a building passion that swamped her with sensation and expectation. He looked…different. He wore a black sweater over dark blue jeans and the casual clothes made him seem more—reachable, somehow. The suits that were such a part of him were almost like a well-cut wall he wore around him, keeping the world at bay. Tonight he’d apparently stopped by his own house to change before coming over. And as much as she appreciated the new him, she wanted him out of those clothes. Now.

As if he heard her thoughts, he tore his sweater off and threw it aside. The glow from the lamp defined his broad chest and Eileen’s insides shivered. As he stripped off his jeans, her breath came fast and hard and her body went warm and damp and ready.

He came to her then, kneeling on the bed beside her, lifting her from the mattress slightly to yank her tank top up and over her head. Then he bent to her breasts, taking first one nipple, then the other into his mouth, teasing, tasting, taking them both to the beginning of another wild, fast ride.

Eileen gasped and fought for breath. She ran her fingers through his hair, then skimmed her hands down to stroke his shoulders, his back. He lifted his head, looked into her eyes and admitted, ‘‘I missed you, damn it. Even though we worked together all day, I missed you.’’

‘‘Yeah,’’ she said, and slid one hand around to cup his face in her palm. ‘‘I know. I feel the same way.’’

‘‘Which means…’’

‘‘Heck if I know,’’ Eileen said and sucked in a gulp of air when he dropped one hand to the waistband of her shorts. She held that breath while he undid the button, pulled down the zipper, then drew the shorts and her panties down her legs. She kicked free of them, then said, ‘‘I just know I want you. Really bad.’’

His lips curved into a smile that shook her to her toes. ‘‘Back atcha, Eyeball.’’

She laughed as he shifted to cover her body with his. She opened for him, welcoming him as he pushed himself within her. Still smiling, she rocked her hips against his and gave herself up to the wonder he created inside her. She looked up into his eyes and found more than desire written there. She also saw warmth, humor and tenderness.

Sensations spiraled through her and as her peak hovered close, she realized that she and Rick had crossed a border at some point. They’d moved beyond simple passion and hunger to a realm where things could get a lot more complicated.

There was something more here than desire.

How much more, she didn’t know.

Then his body pushed her higher, faster and she forgot to think. All she focused on was the moment. This time with him, when it was just the two of them in the soft light, bodies claiming each other, breath mingling in the quiet.

When the first dazzling sparks shot through her bloodstream, she held on to him tightly, digging her short nails into his shoulders. Her voice broke on his name and a moment later, he stiffened against her, finding his own release and following her into the haze of completion. Eileen wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly as together they fell.

Two days later, they were together again in her room, as they had been every moment when they weren’t at work. Something was happening between them, but neither of them was willing to admit it, much less talk about it. Instead, they wrapped themselves in the staggering sensations that surrounded them. Losing themselves in the magic. Finding more than they’d bargained for. More than they wanted to claim.

Rick worried that they were getting in too deep, but he couldn’t seem to stay away from her. In a rational corner of his mind, a small voice warned him to start distancing himself. To start pulling away, retreating from Eileen and the dangers she represented.

But he couldn’t do it.

Not yet.

He would, though. He had to. Because no matter what, he wouldn’t be drawn into a situation where a woman had the power to crush him again. But there was time. There was still time to enjoy what he’d found before having to give it up.

For now, though, he moved inside her again, rocking his body into hers, driving her and himself to the very edge. Then with one last thrust, Rick felt her body flex around his, watched her eyes widen and heard her whisper his name as the tremors took her—and only then did he allow himself to find the completion he needed so desperately.

Minutes later, he rolled to one side of her, groaned and said, ‘‘Damn it.’’

Eileen gasped, struggling for air as she fought to get her heartbeat back under control. She turned her head to look at him, a satisfied smile on her face. ‘‘Rick, what could possibly be wrong?’’

His expression tightened as his narrowed gaze locked with hers. ‘‘The condom broke.’’

Her eyes went wide and, even in the dim light, he saw her skin blanch. ‘‘Uh-oh.’’

‘‘That about covers it.’’ Dread pooled in the pit of his stomach, but there was still a chance. ‘‘Tell me you’re on the pill.’’

‘‘You want me to lie at a time like this?’’

‘‘Damn.’’

‘‘Hey,’’ she said, reaching for the quilt to cover herself, ‘‘until you, I hadn’t been with anyone in a couple of years.’’ She drew the quilt up over both of them. ‘‘I wasn’t going to be taking pills when there was no need for them.’’

‘‘Okay, then.’’ Pushing one hand through his hair, he gritted his teeth and asked, ‘‘Let’s figure this out. When was your last period?’’

Eileen shifted her gaze to the ceiling and tried to focus. Hard to actually think when your body was still churning. But she tried. Thinking back, she counted, mentally tripping over her body’s calendar. Then she recounted. And did it one more time. Oh, God.

She hesitated, then realized that there was no easy way to say it. ‘‘It was, uh, due three days ago.’’

‘‘Uh-oh.’’

Eight

‘‘How long does it take, anyway?’’

Eileen shot Rick a dangerous look. ‘‘Three minutes, okay?’’ She’d already told him that several times, but, apparently, it wasn’t getting through. But then, she could sort of understand that. She, too, was feeling a wild mixture of panic and fear and expectation and even, if she was completely honest and why the hell not, since only she would know…excitement.

She was about to find out if she was going to be a mother, for Pete’s sake. A mother. Her. She’d given up on that particular little dream when she’d found Robert doing the horizontal cha-cha with the bimbo of the week. Eileen loved being an aunt to Bridie’s kids, and she’d long told herself that that was enough. That she didn’t need to actually give birth to feel complete. But she obviously hadn’t believed herself because here she stood, hoping she was pregnant and terrified to admit it.

She pulled in a long, deep breath, let it out slowly, then repeated, ‘‘Three minutes.’’

‘‘Longest three minutes of my life,’’ Rick muttered, and paced the confines of the short hallway outside the bathroom.

‘‘Well, contrary to public opinion,’’ she said as she watched him turn and pace in the other direction, ‘‘snapping people’s heads off does not make time fly.’’

He stopped and looked at her over his shoulder. ‘‘Sorry. It’s just…’’

‘‘Yeah, I know.’’ Eileen leaned one shoulder against the doorjamb and somehow resisted peeking in the bathroom door at the pregnancy test wand laying on the counter. She’d know soon enough. And when she knew…that would be the time for panic. And decision making. And maybe, for scraping Rick up off the floor.

No, she thought, as she watched him shoving both hands through his hair with enough force to yank every hair out of his head, that wasn’t totally fair. He could’ve split, told her it was her problem to deal with and just disappeared. But he hadn’t. Instead, right after discovering the broken condom, he’d gotten dressed, driven to the drugstore and bought a pregnancy test kit. Now he was waiting out the results with her.

Of course, she knew darn well what answer he was hoping for. She could all but see him issuing fervent prayers to the gods of fortune.

‘‘Just because one broke doesn’t mean the others were faulty,’’ he said, and she was pretty sure he was talking to himself more than her.

But she answered him anyway. ‘‘Condoms aren’t a hundred percent effective anyway.’’

‘‘Thanks for that.’’

She shrugged and folded her arms across her chest. ‘‘I’m just saying—’’

‘‘That maybe a stop-and-shop gas station wasn’t the best place to buy protection?’’ he finished for her.

Eileen smiled. Her stomach was in knots, her hands were shaking, hence the folded arms thing, after all, why should she advertise her own case of nerves? ‘‘The point is, there’s no use in rehashing now. Or saying what if. The deed is most definitely done.’’

‘‘I know,’’ he said, and turning around, leaned back against the wall, his gaze fixed on the bathroom doorway.

When the timer went off, both of them jumped. He took a step, then stopped, letting her go into the room before him. Eileen hit the stop button on the timer first, since the incessant ringing was drilling a hole through her head. She picked up the wand carefully, as if it might explode if handled roughly. Glancing back at him as he came up behind her, she said, ‘‘We look together?’’

He nodded. ‘‘Together.’’

Staring down at the tiny window where the results were displayed, she saw the tiny pink plus sign. Her stomach fisted. She heard his quick intake of breath. Her fingers tightened on the plastic. ‘‘Since it’s pink, do you suppose that means it’s a girl?’’

If he could have figured out how to do it effectively, Rick would’ve kicked his own ass. Stupid, he thought. Stupid and careless and now…caught.

From his chair at the two-person table, he watched Eileen move around the small homey kitchen. She’d already made a pot of coffee and now she busily brought cups and a plateful of homemade chocolate chip cookies to the table. She hadn’t said a word in fifteen minutes and the silence was beginning to stretch a little thin. Although, Rick thought, he really couldn’t blame her for not speaking. Hell, he couldn’t think of anything to say, either. An apology didn’t seem right, but congratulations was clearly out of the question, too.

When she finally sat down opposite him, she poured a cup of coffee for each of them, picked up a cookie and proceeded to nervously turn it into crumbs.

Rick reached across the table and covered her hands with his. ‘‘We have to talk about this.’’

Her gaze lifted to his and he tried to read the emotions darting across the meadow-green surface of her eyes. But they shifted and changed so quickly it was impossible to nail one down.

‘‘Look Rick,’’ she said after a long minute, ‘‘I know you’re trying to help, but honestly, I don’t want to talk about it right now.’’

‘‘But we have some decisions to make.’’ Hell, they had a ton of decisions to make.

She smiled, shook her head and leaned back in the chair. ‘‘I’m not deciding anything tonight.’’

‘‘Eileen, this is serious.’’

‘‘Really?’’ She took a bite of her cookie, chewed it and swallowed. ‘‘You mean being pregnant isn’t a joke? It’s not all fun and games? Wow. I’ll alert the media.’’

‘‘Funny.’’

‘‘Didn’t mean to be.’’ She ate the rest of her cookie and reached for another one.

‘‘Is chocolate really the answer?’’

‘‘Chocolate can solve just about anything.’’

‘‘Not this.’’

‘‘I said, just about. Besides, it’s worth a try.’’

He pushed his chair back and the legs scraped against the worn linoleum with a screech. Standing up, he came around the table, reached down and grabbed her hands, then pulled her to her feet.

Her eyes looked bruised, worried and that ate at him. If she hadn’t come to help him out—to do him a favor, they never would have connected again and she wouldn’t be standing here pregnant.

With his child.

That last sentence bounced around the inside of his heart and cracked the edges of it just a little. A child. He’d never expected to be a father. Well, certainly not after his wife had left him. When he first got married, he’d convinced himself that he was in love. That he and Allison would build a family together. But then in a few short months, he’d discovered that Allison had had her eye on his bank account, not their future.

When she left, his dreams had died. And out of the ashes, he’d built a new company and a new life for himself. If that life was a little lonelier than he’d once imagined he would be, at least it was a fair trade-off. He’d never have to watch another woman walk out of his life.