Boss Likes Curves: A Curvy Girl's Billionaire

by Reed, Kristabel

That wasn’t fair. He hadn’t seduced her. They’d gone at each other, passionate and full on, but it had had very little to do with seduction and everything to do with them.

  Still, there was the thrill of the chase and all that. Gideon liked new and shiny. It was why he’d expanded Gideon Hotels across the globe, and why they were opening a Christmas-themed hotel in Vermont and the new hotel in Macau. Why the small boutique hotel in London was so popular right now.

  New and shiny. And when she was no longer the new and shiny woman? When they made more time for work and less for each other? Hot sex, weekends together until he tired of her—her looks, her body, whatever. All of it, all of her.

  Then the distance. And an inevitable messy breakup, because now she’d slept with her boss. She had not only had fantastic sex with him but had forgotten all about the barriers around her heart and why she’d erected them in the first place.

  Messy. Difficult. Bitter.

  Vicious cycle. Why play?

  Tapping her fingers against the top of her thighs, Sabrina stared blindly at her reflection. Her hair dried without the benefit of hair products or a blow dryer, but she hadn’t the energy to do more than acknowledge that.

  “Why play, indeed?” she asked her reflection.

  Sabrina dropped the comb on the vanity and turned sharply from the mirror. She grabbed her cell and stalked from the room. Once in her home office area, she dropped the cell on her desk and opened the locked filing cabinet with the electronic keypad. Quickly flipping through the files, she pulled out her time sheet.

  She had tons of time, according to her own personal calculations. Which were probably short, compared to what HR had.

  She left the file open on top of the cabinet and grabbed her cell; scrolling through her list of contacts she found Charles, one of her assistant managers.

  It was barely seven in the morning, but Charles answered on the second ring.

  “Sabrina?” he asked, his voice only slightly husky from sleep. “Something wrong?”

  “Sorry to wake you,” Sabrina said in apology. “Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to let you know I’m taking some time off. A few weeks. I want you to take over the Macau project. When I get back from vacation,” she said with only a slight pause.

  Vacation, running away. No one but her need know the difference.

  “I’ll head to Macau,” she continued as if this were an everyday occurrence. “I’ll need you to arrange for my stay and will e-mail you the details later.”

  “Sure, no problem,” Charles said, very much awake now. “Anything specific you need me to look after?”

  Sabrina wracked her brain for specifics; at this point her brain barely functioned on the most basic of levels. “Just make sure the project stays in check. And thanks, Charles.”

  She hung up and dropped the phone back to the desk.

  Yes. This is what she needed. A breather. A break. Gideon had promised she wouldn’t lose her job, and Sabrina planned on holding him to that. But, oh, the awkwardness. So she needed this break, this distance, between them.

  Vacation. Running. Whatever.

  So she’d take a couple weeks and try to rebuild the walls around her heart then take off for Macau. Twelve thousand miles between she and Gideon. Should be enough.

  Her phone still flashed its insistent light telling her that she had missed messages. First, she’d have to tell Gideon. Today. Maybe tonight, if she could manage to avoid him at work. Sometime soon, definitely.

  Sabrina swallowed but it hurt, and the bottled-up emotions sitting icily in her belly, heavy on her lungs, didn’t ease one damn bit with her decision.

  She wondered if they ever would.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sabrina had made a list. It was a fairly extensive list, but she’d been determined to get through each bullet point by the end of the day. No matter when her day ended.

  The first thing on her list, and interspersed throughout the list just in case she’d somehow forgotten, was Avoid Gideon. She’d taken the coward’s way out for that. She’d used Cynthia to deliver the message to Melody, and hence Gideon, that she’d be in meetings all day and therefore, though she’d decided against actually saying it, far too busy to see Gideon.

  Second point: Put in her time off with HR. She’d never actually taken longer than a week’s vacation and always planned far enough in advance that everyone knew about it. Was she supposed to get Gideon’s approval? No way was she going to go that route. Instead, she had simply shot off an e-mail to HR with the request, adding in that she’d be in meetings all day with her staff and if they had any questions to e-mail her.

  They hadn’t seemed to.

  Third point: Loose ends. She hadn’t been lying when she’d told Gideon, or rather Cynthia, that she’d be in meetings all day. And if she didn’t necessarily need to speak with each and every one of her staff before fleeing—er, taking a very impromptu vacation—at least they all felt as if she cared enough about their projects to do so.

  She’d called Laura in Vermont to discuss the Kamari plans and was pleased with Laura’s enthusiasm and progress on the project. She’d e-mailed a list of things to Charles about Macau. She’d received status updates on another half dozen projects, including a preliminary outline for a boutique hotel on the island of Sardinia.

  Fourth point: Avoid Cynthia. That had been an addition to Sabrina’s list and one she should’ve anticipated. Frankly, she hadn’t realized how persistent Cynthia could be. Then again, she’d had no sleep, looked like a very pale version of death warmed over, and had avoided leaving her desk even for coffee. That was enough to set off concerned alarms to anyone who knew her just a little, let alone Cynthia.

  Cynthia hadn’t been put off by her dismissive answer, either. Typical. She’d pushed and prodded and had stood in front of her desk, withholding a fresh cup of coffee that Sabrina desperately needed, until Sabrina was ready to spill.

  And then Cynthia had said, “Mr. Marquez has called three times. He wants to know if you’re free for lunch.”

  Sabrina’s stomach churned unpleasantly, and she was suddenly glad she hadn’t taken another sip of coffee. Her breakfast had consisted of toast, and even that had turned her stomach. Lunch? Lunch with Gideon? No. Definitely not.

  Trying her best to put on a sad-to-say-no-yet-oh-so-busy-and-certainly-not-panicked expression, which totally escaped her limited higher brain functions, Sabrina shook her head. “No. Please tell him I’m working through lunch with Charles.”

  She’d then had to stop Charles and drag the poor man into her office and go over in excruciating detail about the liquor license and wrought iron problems in Macau she’d already e-mailed to him.

  Now it was midafternoon, and her list was neatly crossed off and painstakingly adhered to. She’d managed to avoid Gideon for almost the entire day. If she’d had the energy, she’d have patted herself on the back. As it was, she wanted to curl up on the sofa and just lie there.

  Three junior managers who’d worked with Laura had entered with the specs on another Christmas-themed project in Vale or Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Sabrina had been prepared to give them a standard “We’ll have to see how Vermont does,” when Gideon walked in.

  The moment he did, it was all romantic comedy stomach swooping, heart-pounding, breath-catching moments before she tore her gaze from him and refocused on the trio before her. Sabrina had not been prepared for that. She’d thought she could make it another 90 minutes then leave with the rest of the office. Safety in numbers and all that.

  Now Gideon stood before her. Tall and professional and oh, God, so lickable in that suit. She really just wanted to tug on his tie and kiss him.

  Which would defeat the entire purpose of a vacation—not-running and avoidance— and Macau.

  The wall in her heart didn’t know if it wanted to crack or reinforce itself. Her bottled-up emotions wanted to burst out. Sabrina swallowed hard and smiled. She could be professional, too. She did still remember how to be, despite k
nowing just how muscular and hard and…stop it. What Gideon looked like under his suit was a memory. Not an anticipation.

  “Ah, another meeting?” he asked, though it was obvious. Gideon’s exasperation didn’t escape her.

  He looked around the room and nodded at the trio about to begin their presentation. A presentation Sabrina was suddenly so very interested in.

  “Yup!” she said brightly and smiled. It felt brittle and fake. She knew he saw right through it. “Did you want to discuss something, Mr. Marquez?”

  When was the last time she’d called him Mr. Marquez? Everyone in the office knew they were close associates, they shared lunches and plans, and often worked late into the night. No one had heard her say Mr. Marquez in years, let alone Gideon.

  Gideon’s eyes narrowed. She couldn’t read him; he’d closed off as soon as he saw her staff, but it gleamed in his brown gaze. “It can wait, Ms. McKenna.”

  The ice in her belly shifted. Spread.

  Gideon said something else, but she couldn’t hear what over the roar in her ears. Sabrina knew she nodded then turned to the three presenters and gestured for them to proceed. She had no idea what their plans for expanding Gideon Hotels’ Christmas theme were. She’d read the e-mail summary later.

  After her vacation and Macau.

  Once they left, Cynthia walked in with folded stationary. Sabrina glanced up at her, nodded, and took the note.

  “I have a sandwich for you,” Cynthia added and placed a paper plate on the desk. Sabrina hadn’t even seen it when the other woman entered.

  Nodding her thanks, Sabrina opened the message.

  Dinner? I miss you.

  —Gideon

  Sabrina stared at the writing, his not Melody’s, for a long moment. She took a deep breath to steady herself before picking up a pen and scribbling a reply.

  Working late. Not sure when I’ll be finished.

  Damn. Maybe she should’ve said she already had plans? No, she couldn’t do that to him. At the very least, Sabrina owed him an explanation for her sudden disappearance. Er, vacation.

  Sabrina hadn’t even had time to properly ignore the sandwich before Cynthia arrived with another message.

  My place. Whenever you’re finished.

  She’d agreed and hadn’t been able not to, honestly, though Sabrina viewed it more as a means to a conversation instead of a weakness.

  And now it was nearing seven. She’d purposely stayed later than she needed to, especially knowing Gideon wasn’t going to corner her in the office once the majority of the staff had left. Butterflies swarmed in her belly, but she shut down her computer and took one last minute to make sure her desk was cleared off.

  Cynthia had gone home an hour ago, when Sabrina could no longer find work for either of them. She’d given Sabrina a long, hard look but hadn’t said anything other than, “Make sure you eat dinner,” before leaving.

  And for the first time since knowing her, Sabrina couldn’t read Cynthia’s meaning behind the words.

  Or maybe she was just projecting her own conflicting emotions, the mask she’d put on this morning, the façade she’d worn all day onto Cynthia.

  And now she was on her way to Gideon’s. No more avoiding it. No more excuses. Her feet dragged, partly from seriously wanting to run away and partly because she hadn’t had any sleep. Sabrina was moving on coffee—a lot of coffee—and the sandwich Cynthia had finally forced her to eat.

  Leaning against the elevator wall, Sabrina closed her eyes. She was in absolutely no shape to speak with Gideon tonight. She really should call him or, well, maybe text him, to tell him that. But no. She owed him this conversation. Face-to-face and all that.

  Sabrina walked out of the building and to the street, intent on hailing a cab. Vince stood there. She blinked, certain her tiredness and exhaustion made her see things. The man smiled brightly at her and nodded as he pushed off the car and opened the door.

  Her heart did a slow flip in her chest even as her stomach clenched. Was Gideon inside the car?

  No. It was empty. Sabrina sighed in relief. Or disappointment. No, definitely relief. Leaning against the soft leather, she closed her eyes and let Vince, a very chipper Vince, drive to Gideon’s apartment.

  She must’ve dozed, because the next thing Sabrina knew, Vince was opening the door and calling her name.

  “You shouldn’t work this late, Ms. McKenna,” he admonished softly as he handed her her purse and briefcase. “It’s not good for you.”

  “Thanks, Vince,” she murmured and barely managed a smile.

  Sabrina didn’t even want to know what she looked like that the ever-professional Vince felt the need to comment on her appearance. She walked through the gleaming glass doors. The doorman smiled at her and tipped his hat as he opened them. Evening now blanketed the city, and the lights bounced off the glass doors and the marble foyer floor.

  Mesmerized by the sight, Sabrina almost walked into a couple exiting the elevators. She mumbled an apology and pressed the button for Gideon’s penthouse.

  She didn’t doze again, Sabrina made sure of that. But the elevator ride was over before it felt like it’d begun. And then she was standing outside Gideon’s door. She didn’t open it, though she knew she’d be welcomed and the door would be unlocked.

  No, she stood there and tried to forget dancing to big band music and the feel of Gideon moving against her. Swallowing hard, Sabrina rang the bell.

  Now or never.

  She didn’t have to wait long. If she took in a full breath before he opened the door, not that she’d felt capable of such a feat today, she’d have been surprised.

  “I’m going to have to talk to your boss about your hours,” Gideon said as he stood in the doorway. “He seems a bit unreasonable.”

  He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the jam. Sabrina let her eyes trail over him and tried, really she did even with sleep tugging at her and her legs wanting nothing more than to collapse, she really did try not to drink in every kissable inch of him.

  And she failed.

  Sabrina nodded, too tired to even pretend to smile or laugh or provide any other polite form of expression she knew she was supposed to give.

  Gideon frowned and took her hand, tugging her against him. He grabbed her briefcase and purse and dropped them to the floor by the door, leading her further inside. Sabrina felt his body against hers and stiffened away from him. She could do this. Could walk in under her own power, could have this conversation like an adult and survive.

  Well, maybe not that last.

  His hands cupped her shoulders and massaged the tension that seemed to have taken up permanent residence there. Sabrina stiffened and turned away. So much for subtly. No, all but leaping out of his touch was most definitely not subtle.

  “I didn’t know what time you’d get here,” Gideon said in that same tone. It was hard to decipher and even slightly cool and concerned, and she had no idea when she’d become so enamored with his tone of voice.

  “So I ordered the most elegant menu I could think of,” he said with a slight smile. “Pizza.”

  The breathy laugh escaped her. Sabrina raised her gaze to his and saw the concern he’d barely masked.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “I think your surprise is out of the bag,” he said.

  Before she could even process those words, let alone ask him what he meant by them, Gideon closed the distance between them and cupped her face.

  Panicked at the intended kiss, Sabrina backed up a step. Then another, just to be safe and keep distance between them. If he kissed her, she knew, absolutely knew, she’d never get out what she had to tell him.

  Adrenaline, panicked adrenaline, pumped through her, and all at once, Sabrina was wide awake.

  “Surprise?” she repeated.

  “I heard you took time off,” Gideon said slowly, his eyes slightly narrowed. “I expected to spend more time together. Isn’t that why you avoided me all day?”

&nb
sp; Sabrina should’ve known he’d notice that, considering how much time they’d spent together before they even started sleeping together.

  She opened her mouth. Nothing came out.

  Gideon smiled. “I think it’s kind of sweet.”

  “Actually,” she said, the words dry in her throat, “it’s not the reason. Pretty far from the reason.”

  His hands found their way into his pockets and he stepped closer. Not too close, she noticed, just as his confession as to why he always had his hands in his pockets came back to her.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. “You’ve been off since I dropped you off last night after Horatio’s party.”

  Sabrina took a deep breath. “I was thinking about things most of the night,” she began.

  “Things?” he asked. “What things?”

  She took another step back. Though he didn’t move to follow her, she held up her hands. Speaking to a button on his shirt rather than him, she said, “This is going to be hard enough to get out, so please just let me say it.”

  Sabrina paused, swallowed hard, and took a deep breath. “I don’t think we should continue this, Gideon. It’s going to interfere with our work. It’s…I’m just not interested in this anymore.”

  She’d made a second list of all the things she wanted to say to Gideon, with notes in the margins and everything. What she’d managed to get out wasn’t it.

  His body stiffened and she looked up; she had to. His gaze was hard, but even through her own pain and certainty, Sabrina saw hurt. Oh, she’d hurt him, and that made her heart ache.

  “You didn’t seem uninterested all the nights we spent in bed,” he said shortly, his voice cold and clipped. “Nor did I feel any disinterest when we kissed. So what the hell is this about, Sabrina?”

  “I’m taking a couple weeks off to put distance between us,” she admitted in a rush. Her confession, her honesty, was not on her list. “When I return, I’m flying out to Macau to oversee the project personally.”

  She swallowed hard but held his gaze. “Please don’t make this more difficult than it has to be. For the sake of the company and a friendship I hope we can still have, can we just say it didn’t work out? Move on?”