Taking the Boss to Bed

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Taking the Boss to Bed Page 12

by Joss Wood


  Her only thought about her canceled wedding was that she’d dodged a bullet. And then she’d run to the States, where she’d fallen into the flight path of a freakin’ bazooka. Jaci blew her frustration out and sneaked another look at Ryan. So far she’d spent a lot of the ceremony admiring his broad shoulders, tight butt and long legs, and remembering what he looked like naked. Jaci wiggled in her seat, realizing that it was very inappropriate to be thinking of a naked man in a sixteenth-century English church. Or, come to think of it, any church, for that matter...

  Jaci crossed her legs and thought that she should be used to seeing him in a tuxedo, but today he looked better than he had any right to. The ice-blue tie turned his eyes the same color and she noticed that he’d recently had his hair trimmed. He’d spent the week avoiding her since their—what could she call it?—encounter in LA, and while her brain thought that some time apart was a wonderful idea, every other organ she possessed missed him. To a ridiculous degree. She sighed and sent another longing look at his profile. So sexy, and when he snapped his head around and caught her looking, she flushed.

  No phone call. No email. No text. Nothing, she reminded herself. It was horrifying to realize that if he so much as crooked his baby finger she’d kick off her shoes, scramble over the seats and, bridal couple be damned, fly into his arms.

  She wanted him. She didn’t want to want him.

  A slim arm wrapping around her waist had her turning, and she sighed at the familiar perfume. Meredith, her big sister, with her jet-black, geometric bob, red lipstick and almost oriental eyes looked sharp and sleekly sexy in a black sheath that looked as if it had been painted on her skinny frame. Twelve-year-olds had thighs fatter than hers, Jaci thought.

  Merry gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Hey, are you okay?”

  Jaci lifted one shoulder. How should she answer that? No, my life is an even bigger mess now than it was when I left. I might not have a job soon and I think I might be in love with my fake boyfriend, who has the communication skills of a clam. That’s the same fake boyfriend who left New York the morning after a night of marvelous sex. The same one whom I haven’t spoken to or had an email or a text or a smoke signal from.

  Not that she was sure she wanted to talk to the moronic, standoffish, distant man who used a stupid excuse to run out of his apartment as quickly as he could. As if he could fool her with that bagels-and-coffee comment. After Clive she had a master’s degree in the subject of crap-men-say.

  Merry spoke in her ear. “So...you and Ryan.”

  “There is no me and Ryan,” Jaci retorted, her voice a low whisper.

  Merry looked at Ryan and licked her lips. “He is a babe, I have to admit. Mum thinks you’re having a thing.”

  “The supposed relationship between us has been wildly exaggerated.” Nobody could call a few hot nights a relationship, could they?

  “Come on, tell me.” Meredith jammed an elbow in her ribs.

  The elderly aunt on her other side nudged her in the ribs. “Shh! The reverend is trying to give his sermon!”

  “And I’m trying not to fall asleep.” Merry yawned.

  Ryan shifted his position and subtly turned so that he was practically facing her and she felt his eyes, like gentle fingers, trace her features, skim her cheekbones, her lower lips, down to her mouth. When his eyes dropped to look at her chest, her nipples responded by puckering against the fabric of her dress. The corners of Ryan’s mouth lifted in response and she flamed again. Traitorous body, she silently cursed, folding her arms across her chest and narrowing her eyes.

  “Some of your attention should be on your brother,” Merry said out of the side of her mouth. “You know, the guy who is getting married to the girl in the white dress?”

  “Can’t help it, he drives me batty,” Jaci replied, sotto voce. “He’s arrogant and annoying and...annoying. The situation between us is...complicated.”

  “Complicated or not he is, holy bananas, so sexy.”

  Priscilla, on the bench in front of them, spun around in her seat and sent them her evil-mother laser glare. Her purple fascinator bounced and she slapped a feather out of her eye. Her voice, slightly quieter than a foghorn, boomed through the church. “Will you two please be quiet or must I put you outside?”

  If Jaci hadn’t been so embarrassed she might have been amused to see her ever-cool and unflappable world-class-journalist sister slide down in her seat and place her hand over her eyes.

  Ten

  The band was playing those long, slow songs that bands played for the diehard guests who couldn’t tear themselves away from the free booze or the dance floor or, as was Merry’s case, the company of a cousin of the bride. Her sister looked animated and excited, Jaci thought, watching them from her seat at a corner table, now deserted. She hoped that the man wasn’t married or gay or a jerk. Her sister deserved to have some fun, deserved a good man in her life. Always so serious and so driven, it would be good for her to have someone in her life who provided her with some balance. And some hot sex. You couldn’t go wrong with some hot sex.

  Well, you could if you were on the precipice of falling in love with the man who, up to a couple of days ago, had provided you with some very excellent sex. Jaci closed her eyes and rested her temple against her fist. She couldn’t be that stupid to be falling in love with Ryan, could she? Maybe she was just confusing liking with love. Maybe she was confused because he made her feel so amazing in bed.

  If so, why did she miss him so intensely when he wasn’t with her? Why did she think about him constantly? Why did she wish that she could provide him with the emotional support he gave to her by just standing at her side and breathing? Why did she want to make his life better, brighter, happier? She couldn’t blame that on sexual attraction or even on friendship.

  Nope, she was on the verge of yanking her heart out and handing it over to him. And if she did that, she knew that if he refused to take it, which he would because Ryan didn’t do commitment in any shape or form, it would be forever mangled and never quite the same. She had to pull back, had to protect herself. Hadn’t her heart and her confidence and her psyche endured enough of a battering lately? Why would she want to torture herself some more?

  A strong, tanned hand placed a cup full of hot coffee in front of her and she looked up into Ryan’s eyes. “You look like you need that,” he said, taking the chair next to her and flipping it so that he faced her, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

  “Thanks. I thought you were avoiding me.”

  “Trying to.” Ryan sent her a brooding look before looking at his watch. “I managed it for six hours but I’m caving.”

  Jaci lifted her eyebrows. “That’s eight days and six hours. I heard you went to LA.”

  Ryan glowered at her. “Yeah. Waste of a trip since I spent most of my time thinking of you. Naked.”

  Lust, desire, need swirled between them. How was she supposed to respond to that? Should she tell him that she’d spent less time writing and more time fantasizing? He’s still your boss, she reminded herself. Maybe she should keep that to herself.

  “I’ve spent most of the evening watching you talk to your ex.” Ryan frowned.

  Now, that was an exaggeration. She’d spoken to Clive, sure, but not for that long and not for the whole evening.

  “You’re not seriously considering giving him another chance, are you?” Ryan demanded, his eyes and voice hot.

  No calls, no text messages, no emails and now stupid questions. Jaci sighed. Going back to Clive after being with Ryan would be like living in a tiny tent after occupying a mansion. In other words, completely horrible. But because he’d been such a moron lately, she was disinclined to give him the assurance his question seemed to demand. Or was she just imagining the thread of concern she heard in his voice?

  That was highly possible.

&nbs
p; “Talk to me, Jace,” Ryan said when she didn’t answer him.

  Jaci’s lips pressed together. “You’re joking, right? Do you honestly think that you can sleep with me and then freeze me out when I ask a personal question? Do you really think it’s okay for you not to call me, to avoid me for the best part of a week?”

  Ryan released a curse and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that.”

  Jaci didn’t buy his apology. “Sure you are. But I bet that if I suggest that we go back to your B and B you’d be all over that idea.”

  “Of course I would be. I’m a man and you’re the best sex I’ve ever had.” Jaci widened her eyes at his statement. The best sex? Ever? Really?

  “Dammit, Jace, you tie me up in knots.” Ryan tipped his head back to look at the ceiling of the tent. The main lights had been turned out and only flickering fairy lights illuminated the tent, casting dancing shadows on his tired face. What was she supposed to say to that? Sorry that I’ve complicated your life? Sorry that I’m the best sex you’ve ever had?

  She’d apologized for too many things in her life, many of them that weren’t her fault, but she would be damned if she was going to apologize to Ryan. Not about this. She liked the fact that she, at least, had some effect on the man. So Jaci just crossed her legs and didn’t bother to adjust her dress when the fabric parted and exposed her knee and a good portion of her thigh. She watched Ryan’s eyes drop to her legs, saw the tension that skittered through his body and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

  Another knot, she thought. Good, let him feel all crazy for a change.

  Instead of touching her as she expected, Ryan sat up, took a sip of her coffee and, after putting her cup back in its saucer, tapped his finger on the white damask tablecloth. “I’m not good at sharing my thoughts, at talking.”

  That didn’t warrant a response, so Jaci just looked at him.

  “I have a messed-up relationship with my family, both dead and alive.” Ryan stared off into the distance. “My mother is dead, my father is a stranger to me, someone who always put his needs above those of his kids. I’m not looking for sympathy, I’m just telling you how it was.” Ryan stopped talking and hauled in another breath. It took a moment for his words to sink in, to realize that he was talking to her. Jaci’s heart stopped momentarily and then it started to pound. He was talking to her? For real?

  “I don’t talk to people because I don’t want them getting that deep into my head,” Ryan admitted with a lot of reluctance. He closed his eyes momentarily before speaking again. “That girl in the picture? Well, she died in the same car accident as Ben.”

  “Ben’s fiancée? I’m sorry but I don’t remember her name.” And why did he have a photograph of Ben’s fiancée in his bedroom? Facedown, but still...

  “Kelly. Everyone thought that she was engaged to Ben because she was wearing an engagement ring,” Ryan said, but something in his voice had Jaci leaning forward, trying to look into his eyes. Judging by his hard expression, and by the muscle jumping in his cheek, talking about Ben and this woman was intensely difficult for Ryan. Of course, they were talking about his brother’s death. It had to be hard, but there was more to this story than she was aware of.

  Ryan stared at the ground between his knees and pulled in a huge breath, and Jaci was quite sure that he wasn’t aware that his hand moved across the table to link with hers. “Kelly wasn’t Ben’s fiancée, she was mine.”

  Jaci tangled her fingers in his and held on. “What?”

  Ryan lifted his head and dredged up a smile but his eyes remained bleak. “Yeah, we’d got engaged two weeks earlier.”

  Jaci struggled to make sense of what he was saying. “But the press confirmed that they had spent a romantic weekend together.” Jaci swore softly when she realized what he was trying to tell her. “She was cheating. On you.” She lifted her hand to her mouth, aghast. “Oh, Ryan!”

  How horrible was that? Jaci felt her stomach bubble, felt the bile in the back of her throat. His fiancée and his brother were having an affair and he found out when they both died in a car crash? That was like pouring nitric acid into a throat wound. How...how...how dare they?

  How did anyone deal with that, deal with losing two people you loved and finding out they were having an affair behind your back? What were you supposed to feel? Do? Act? God, no wonder Ryan had such massive trust issues.

  Fury followed horror. Who slept with her fiancé’s brother, who slept with their brother’s fiancée? Who did that? She was so angry she could spit radioactive spiders. “I am so mad right now,” was all she could say.

  The corners of Ryan’s mouth lifted and his eyes lightened a fraction. “It was a long time ago, honey.” He removed his fingers from her grasp and flexed his hand. “Ow.”

  “Sorry, but that disloyalty, that amount of selfishness—”

  Ryan placed the tips of his fingers on her mouth to stop her talking. Jaci sighed and yanked her words back. It didn’t matter how angry she was on his behalf, how protective she was feeling, the last thing he needed was for her to go all psycho on him. Especially since Ben and Kelly had paid the ultimate price.

  “Sorry, Ry,” she muttered around his fingers.

  “Yeah. Me, too.” Ryan dropped his hand. “I never talk about it—nobody but me knows. Kelly wanted to keep the engagement secret—”

  “Probably because she was boinking your brother.”

  “Thank you, I hadn’t realized that myself,” Ryan said, his voice bone-dry.

  Jaci winced. “Sorry.” It seemed as if it was her go-to phrase tonight.

  “Anyway, you’re the first person I’ve told. Ever.” Ryan shoved his hand through his hair. “You asked who she was and I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to tell you and it all just got too...”

  Jaci waited a beat before suggesting a word. “Real?”

  Ryan nodded. “Yeah. If I explained, I couldn’t keep pretending that we were just...friends.”

  What did that mean? Were they more than friends now? Was he also feeling something deeper than passion and attraction, something that could blossom and grow into...something deeper? Jaci wished she had the guts to ask him, but a part of her didn’t want to risk hearing his answer. It might not be what she was looking for or even wanting. Her heart was in her hands and she was mentally begging him to take it, to keep it. But she wanted him to keep it safe and she wasn’t sure that he would.

  Ryan closed his eyes and rubbed his eyelids with his thumb and forefinger. “God, I’m tired.”

  “Then go back to the B and B,” Jaci suggested.

  “Will you come with me?”

  Jaci cocked her head in thought. She could but if she did she knew that she would have no more defenses against him, that she would give him everything she had, and she knew that she couldn’t afford to do that. And, despite the fact that he’d opened up, he wasn’t anywhere near being in love with her and he didn’t want what she did. Oh, she was in love with him. He had most of her heart, but she was keeping a little piece of that organ back, and all of her soul, because she needed them to carry on, to survive when he left.

  Because he would leave. This was her life, not a fairy tale.

  He stood up and held out his hand. “Jace? You coming?”

  “Sorry, Ry.”

  Ryan frowned at her and looked across the room to where Clive stood, watching them. Watching her. Creepy. “You’ve got something better to do?” Ryan demanded, his eyes dark with jealously.

  “Oh, Ryan, you are such an idiot!” she murmured.

  She was tempted to go with him, of course she was. Despite his opening up and letting her a little way in, they weren’t in a committed relationship, and the more she slept with him the deeper in love she would fall. She had to be sensible, had to keep some distance. But she didn’t want to make
light of the fact that he’d confided in her and that she appreciated his gesture, so Jaci reached up and touched her lips to his cheek. Then she held her cheek against his, keeping her eyes closed as she inhaled his intoxicating smell. “Thank you for telling me, Ry.”

  The tips of Ryan’s fingers dug into her hips. He rested his forehead on hers and sighed heavily. “You drive me nuts.”

  Jaci allowed a small laugh to escape. “Right back at you, bud. Are you coming to the family breakfast in the morning?”

  “Yeah.” Ryan kissed her nose before stepping back. He tossed a warning glance in Clive’s direction. “Don’t let him snow you, Jace. He’s a politician and by all reports he’s a good one.”

  “So?”

  “So, don’t let him con you,” Ryan replied impatiently. “He cheated on you and lied to you and treated you badly. Don’t get sucked back in.”

  Jaci looked at him, astounded. She wasn’t a child and she wasn’t an idiot and she knew, better than anybody, what a jerk Clive was. Did she come across that naive, that silly, that in need of protection? She was a grown woman and she knew her own mind. She wasn’t the weak-willed, wafty, soft person Ryan and her family saw her as. Sometimes she wondered if anyone would ever notice that she’d grown up, that she was bigger, stronger, bolder. Would they ever see her as she was now? Would anyone ever really know her?

  She didn’t need a prince or a knight to run to her rescue anymore.

  She’d slay her own dragons, thank you very much, and she’d look after herself while she did it.

  * * *

  The next morning Jaci, her mother and Merry sat on the terrace and watched as the people from the catering company dismantled the tent and cleared up the wedding detritus. When Ryan got there they would haul Archie out of his study and they’d rustle up some breakfast. The bride and groom would arrive when they did—they weren’t going to wait for them—but for now she was happy to sit on the terrace in the spring sunshine.

 

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