Too Many Bosses

by Jan Freed

  She nodded, her pulse throbbing visibly below each delicate ear.

  “I’m sorry.” He lifted a hand off the wall and encircled her pale slender throat from pulse point to pulse point. “Now you say uncle.”

  The heartbeat under his fingertips fluttered like moth wings. The eyes beneath his searching gaze grew heavy-lidded and sultry with arousal.

  “Uncle,” she breathed, her lips remaining slightly parted.

  His ears roared. His senses filled with soft curves and perfumed skin and small panting breaths. His body clamored to take what she offered—whether she realized her invitation or not. He shouldn’t. Dear God, it would be stupid as hell.

  But if he didn’t taste her now, he’d die.

  At the sight of his descending head, her eyes grew wider. Her full lips trembled. “You promised to let me go.”

  “I lied,” he growled.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LAURA CLAMPED her lips together and cursed her weakness. He’d made his point. Must he strip her of all pride?

  Warm breath tickled her ear. She shivered and cocked her head. Then he was trailing quick, nibbling kisses down her throat.

  “So sweet,” Alec murmured against her throbbing jugular vein.

  If he stepped back, she would collapse like a Slinky toy. Michael had never inspired such melting heat.

  “So stubborn,” Alec whispered, dragging his mouth across her jaw and upward. “So soft,” he crooned, turning his face and rubbing his own bristled cheek against her smooth one. She relished the abrasion even as she winced.

  “So sensitive,” he added, chuckling deep in his chest.

  Laura’s mouth curved upward. His unexpected gentleness disarmed her far more than a show of physical strength. He’d given her mixed signals for weeks. Was he really attracted to her, or just challenged? If only she was more experienced.

  Her clenched hands, trapped between their tightly pressed bodies, splayed against his chest. At the slight movement, Alec’s entire body tensed. Surely he wasn’t reacting to her touch? Her eyes closed at the thought.

  Instantly his lips dropped warm intimate kisses from one trembling eyelid to the other. “So beautiful,” he breathed.

  Everything in Laura froze. She wasn’t beautiful, not by a long shot. Oh God, this was all a cruel joke. How could she be so naive? Afraid of what she would see, Laura lifted her gaze.

  His eyes flared like jets on a gas stove. She stared, mesmerized by their unmistakable hunger. Her hands stirred against his chest. Incredibly, the flame’s intensity leapt up a notch.

  She could feel his heart pounding nearly as hard as her own. Intoxicated at the implication, she slid her hands up his chest. Alec’s head fell back, the action parting his unbuttoned shirt to reveal a wedge of tanned skin sprinkled with black hair. Dark against the white cotton. Unequivocally masculine. She reached for the nape of his neck. As her fingers threaded through the thick raven’s-wing curls, she sighed. Glorious. Better than glorious.

  Drawn irresistibly to his strong bronze throat, she leaned forward and touched the tip of her tongue to his skin.

  Alec’s head snapped up, his nostrils flaring. He seemed larger, more powerful suddenly, like Scott’s prize stallion just before covering a mare. His smoldering eyes focused on her mouth. Oh, God, she’d been told she wasn’t a good kisser. What if—

  His lips smothered the thought.

  They were warm and smooth. Firmer than hers, but not the carved marble she’d expected. They brushed, hovered, then brushed again, as if waiting for her to do something. Remembering her earlier success, she touched her tongue to his mouth.

  He reacted explosively, plunging his tongue between her lips and exploring her mouth as if charting a new world. His hands slid down her waist, clasped at the small of her back and pulled.

  She nearly fainted. All feeling, all concentration and every ounce of blood in her body pooled in one location. The ache throbbed for release. Demanded release. Lost in a sensual haze, she rose up and down on tiptoe and stroked Alec’s body with her own.

  Emitting a low rumble, Alec covered her breast with one hand and kneaded gently. Was that whimper coming from her? Uncaring, she engaged his tongue in a wild dueling match, fencing more frantically as his fingers plucked and teased her nipple through a layer of silk and lace. She needed...needed...needed...

  Alec ripped his mouth from hers, rested his chin on her head and took deep ragged breaths.

  Bereft without his kiss, Laura stirred. “What—”

  “Shh!” He stepped back.

  Her knees buckled, jolting her into awareness. Then she heard it, too. The rattle of wheels rolling across tiles. Dear Lord, the cleaning crew would be here any minute.

  She stiffened her spine, tugged down her skirt and smoothed her blouse, avoiding Alec’s eyes all the while. Memory of the past few minutes came back in searing detail. Her cheeks burned. She’d practically raped the man.

  “Laura?”

  What must he think of her? Never a coward, she turned. “Yes?”

  He looked disheveled, frustrated—and impossibly handsome.

  “About what just happened. I had no business letting things get so out of hand. Of all the dumb, asinine...” He stabbed his fingers through the curls she’d caressed earlier. The cleaning cart rattled closer. “Hell,” he muttered.

  So much for sweet nothings in her ear.

  Her chin came up. “Don’t worry about it, Alec. I take full responsibility for my actions. Like I told you before, I’m a big girl.” She walked over to get her purse from under the desk. Straightening, she added, “I can take care of myself.”

  Liar, her heart screamed.

  A middle-aged woman carrying a mop and bucket walked past the door, starting in surprise. “Oh... Excuse me.” She bobbed her head in apology.

  “We were just leaving,” Laura explained, turning to Alec. “I’ll take you up on that offer to walk me to my car—if the offer’s still good, that is.”

  He started to say something, clamped his mouth shut and nodded.

  “Fine. After you, then.” With a calmness deserving an Oscar, she waved him through the door.

  If it killed her, she would be adult about this. As sophisticated as his other women. Never, under any circumstances, would she reveal he’d knocked her world right off its axis.

  * * *

  LAURA AWOKE to a sunbeam spotlighting her eyes. She groped for a pillow and plopped it over her face.

  Darn those crummy miniblinds. If they’d fitted properly, she’d still be with Alec in her favorite hideaway on the ranch, a tree house built high in a towering oak. He’d still be kissing her while those delicious feelings curled her toes....

  Her eyes popped open. She flung the pillow aside. Scrambling upright in bed, she hugged her shins and groaned. Two weeks had passed since Alec’s kiss, and the memory still haunted and mortified her. They were barely past the midpoint in completing the Regency campaign, else she’d be tempted to call in sick tomorrow. He could play King of the Monday Staff Meeting with her blessing.

  How could she have been so wanton that night? Seeing him at work the next day had been the most awkward, no, the second-most awkward experience of her life. Alec had acted cool and detached, or she would never have managed. But several times since then, she’d caught him looking at her that way. When his expression cleared seconds later, she’d questioned her sanity.

  Laura slid her legs down, punched her pillow, then hugged it to her chest. Damn the man! Until becoming Alec’s partner, she’d pretty much accepted her low libido, and even lower sex appeal, as a fact of life. Thanks to him, she didn’t know herself anymore.

  Maybe if her mother had lived...

  Laura buried her nose in the comforting yield of goose feathers and sighed. No sense wondering what if. She couldn’t change who she was or what she’d done. Guilt was lousy for concentration. Almost as lousy as desire.

  If she didn’t settle down and focus on something besides gorgeous blue eye
s, her half of the agency wouldn’t be worth a fall calf at a spring auction. Then she’d never be able to send money home. Or open her own agency—the one place in the world she was sure to fit in.

  Releasing the pillow, she slid from the bed and made her way to the kitchen. Drat. She’d forgotten to buy coffee again. A knock on the door jolted her heart like a cattle prod. Would that sound ever stop making her nervous?

  “Who is it?” she called.

  “Land shark. Open up before I drop all this stuff.”

  Smiling at the honeyed drawl, Laura unlatched the chain and pulled the door wide. Brenda Lee stood holding a tray loaded with coffeepot, cups and a massive pile of doughnuts. She looked young, carefree and beautiful in faded cutoffs and a blue shirt tied at the waist. Elly May Clampett, eat your heart out.

  “Mornin’ sugar. Ready for a little flab and gab?” Without waiting for an answer, she breezed past Laura and bumped her shins against the metal mattress frame.

  Laura shut the door. “Wait a minute and I’ll get that out of your way.”

  “Oh, don’t bother. This’ll make a great table.” Brenda Lee lowered her tray to the middle of the bed, flipped off her thong sandals and scrambled up to sit cross-legged. She patted the mattress beside her. “Sit down and rest your merits awhile.”

  Laura obeyed, shaking her head at the tray. “I can’t believe you did this. How’d you know I was out of coffee?”

  Her neighbor poured out two cups and slanted her a wry look. “You’ve been borrowing mine for the past week, goose. You’ve got it worse than I thought.”

  “Got what?”

  Rolling her eyes but declining to comment, Brenda Lee leaned over the tray and wriggled her nose. “There’s nothing like a good pigout to make a girl feel better. Let’s see now. We’ve got chocolate-covered, lemon-filled, apple-filled and, in case you’re on a diet, plain old glazed. Name your poison.”

  “Brenda Lee. This is total obscene gluttony.”

  Her friend turned, eyes wide and hand poised above a gooey chocolate ring. “Sure it is, honey. That’s what makes it fun. Besides, you could use a little fattening up.”

  Laura concentrated suddenly on adding sugar and cream to her coffee.

  “What did I say?” Brenda Lee asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s not nothing. You should see your face.”

  “Okay it’s something. But it’s really stupid.”

  “That crack about fattening you up?” Grabbing both of Laura’s hands, Brenda Lee squeezed. “Laura Hayes, I meant that as a compliment. Why, I’d sell my soul to the devil for a figure like yours.”

  Laura managed something between a snort and a shaky laugh. “Yeah, right. Why look like a Greek goddess when you could look like Gumby?”

  “You’re joking, aren’t you?” Anxious green eyes peered into Laura’s. “My God, you’re serious! Where’d you get an idea like that?”

  “Daddy longlegs, Twiggy, pencil legs—I’ve heard ‘em all.” She took a sip of coffee and looked away.

  “But you must have been just a kid when they called you those names.”

  “Actually, no. In elementary school I could beat the tar out of every kid there, and they knew it. But in junior high, when every other girl filled out and I just grew tall...”

  Skinny and flat-chested, she’d felt like an alien in the midst of her own sex. Starting her period, getting her first training bra, all the rites of passage usually handled by mothers were awkward memories for her. She’d muddled through with the aid of a school nurse and a trip to K Mart.

  “Aw, hon, that’s rough.” Brenda Lee released Laura’s hands and plucked a chocolate doughnut off the tray. “But what about high school? If you looked like you do now, the boys must have been falling all over you by then.”

  She seemed serious. Choosing a filled doughnut, Laura settled back against the pillows and spoke between bites.

  “I went out on exactly two dates in high school, both in my sophomore year. I was totally inexperienced, so when they started groping, it caught me off guard. Both those guys walked around with cracked ribs for a couple of weeks, thanks to me.”

  “Naw. Get outa town.”

  Laura grinned around a mouthful of lemon filling. “Yup. I wasn’t very good at verbal self-defense back then. I had a much more literal education.” She sipped her coffee. “Anyway, after those two dates, I never got asked out again. And the nicknames...changed.”

  Brenda Lee stopped chewing and raised a delicate blond brow.

  Laura sighed. “Ice queen, dyke, lesbo—”

  “Idiots!” Brenda Lee spat. “Ignorant jerks.”

  Wide-eyed, Laura crammed the remaining two bites of doughnut into her mouth.

  “Do men ever think with the head on their shoulders, instead of the one between their legs?”

  Laura choked. Gasping for air, she grabbed a napkin and held it to her mouth, forcing herself to swallow.

  Brenda Lee administered several blows to Laura’s back. “Oh, hell, now I’ve gone and shocked you. It’s just that I had a few nicknames of my own in high school, all because I kind of overblossomed in my freshman year.”

  Laura raised her head.

  “Slut seemed to be the favorite, but white trash was a close second.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  Popping the last bite of pastry into her mouth, Brenda Lee swallowed and shrugged. “My school was smack-dab in the middle of Atlanta’s richest neighborhood. The difference from where I got on the bus and where I got off was...” She swallowed hard, her eyes reflecting remembered pain. “There wasn’t a bit of truth to any of the rumors about me, but the reputation stuck just the same.”

  Making a sympathetic sound, Laura wondered once again at the cruelty of young people.

  Brenda Lee licked five chocolate-dipped fingertips clean before looking up. “Twelve years old or sixty, there’s no meaner snake alive than a jealous woman or a man who’s been rejected. I’m a lot happier since I quit worrying about either one of them.”

  Laura imagined the warm generous girl Brenda Lee must have been and the spite she’d endured for the sin of being born beautiful—and built. “Idiots! Ignorant jerks!” she snapped.

  Suddenly they were both laughing. Laura felt wonderful, as if confiding hurtful memories had somehow exorcized her pain. Was this what it felt like to have a girlfriend? For the first time she conceded her male-dominated upbringing might have been a trifle limiting.

  Brenda Lee drew both legs up, hugged her ankles and propped a rounded chin on her knees. “Okay, so high school sucked the big one for both of us. Please don’t tell me college wasn’t wonderful. I always wished I’d gone.”

  Laura smiled at her wistful tone. “It was wonderful. I loved the ranch, but there was so much more I wanted to see and experience. Other students hated to study, but I loved my classes.”

  “Beauty and brains, all in one package. You must have beaten the men off with a stick.”

  Irritation pricked sharp. “I wish you’d quit saying that. It’s embarrassing.”

  “What’d I say now?”

  “Once and for all, I am not beautiful, I have never had to beat men off with a stick, and what’s more, I’m not...normal.”

  “Not normal?”

  She’d been the one to start this true-confessions thing, after all. Laura took a deep breath. “I’ve never... I can’t respond in...you know, in bed.”

  Brenda Lee raised her chin, eyeing Laura with interest. “Bullcorn,” she said.

  Perversely angry, Laura gathered up the tray, slid off the mattress and padded into the kitchen. Setting the tray down with a clatter, she called out, “How would you know?”

  A grunt was her only answer.

  Laura stepped around the dividing wall. Brenda Lee had folded the mattress up and was heaving the frame into the sofa. Task accomplished, she straightened, blew a few blond wisps of hair out of her eyes and crossed her arms.

  “Anyone who can defend a woman
like me, or tell off a man like Alec McDonald, or light up at the mention of a little boy like Jason—sugar, that’s a woman with passion.”

  She walked over to a stack of flowered cushions and carried three back to the sofa. Her voice jerked as she punched them into place. “If you’ve been cold in bed, blame the heating pad, not yourself. The way I figure, you probably haven’t plugged in all that many, anyway. Am I right, hon?”

  Laura could only nod at the outrageous question.

  Brenda Lee smirked. “Thought so. You find the right heating pad and you’ll set off every smoke alarm in the building, I promise.”

  The image of Alec pressing her against the wall made Laura blush. And ache. Grateful that Brenda Lee had bent down for another armful of cushions, Laura rushed over and split the load, helping her plump and arrange in companionable silence. At last both women sat down and turned to each other.

  Brenda Lee frowned. “I don’t know how you got this fool notion you aren’t attractive to men, but I suspect that’s the reason you haven’t been beating them off with a stick.”

  Aha! “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “No darlin’, men don’t think you’re unattractive—you do. You’re sending off No Trespassing signals to any man who comes close.” She leaned back and cocked her head. “If you ever started making the most of what God blessed you with...whoooee! Things would get mighty interesting at the office.”

  At the office? “God blessed me with hopeless hair and stilt legs.”

  Brenda Lee reached over and pulled out Laura’s ponytail clip. A full minute passed before she spoke. “Laura, you fool. Women pay salons hundreds of dollars for waves like these. Why do you hide this awesome hair?”

  Laura raised her chin.

  “And what’s this about stilt legs?” Brenda Lee hooted, stretching out a perfectly proportioned—but petite—leg for inspection. “I look like one of those troll dolls sitting next to a Barbie doll, and you have the nerve to complain. Come on, gimme a flaw I can sink my teeth into.”

  Laughing at the absurd comparison, Laura obliged. “I’ll give you two. My eyes are downright weird, and my mouth’s too wide.”