A Bride for the Boss

by Maureen Child

  “I’ll bring our clothes down in a couple minutes.” Barefoot now, Mac took Andi’s hand and pulled her along with him, though she came reluctantly. He had to assume it was because she was embarrassed that Teresa knew the two of them would soon be naked together. But she’d just have to get over that or risk pneumonia. Already, she was shivering from the effects of being soaking wet and the air conditioning blowing through the house. So reluctant or not, she followed after him, down the hall, up the stairs and to his bedroom.

  “Come on, get out of those wet clothes,” he urged as he stripped himself.

  “You’re just trying to get me out of my panties again.” Her voice trembled with cold.

  “You caught on to my nefarious scheme. Make a woman so damn cold she turns blue, then have my way with her.”

  She laughed shortly. Her hands shook as she undid buttons and then pulled off her shirt, jeans and underwear. He tried not to look because the point here was getting her warm again, not jumping her the minute she was vulnerable. Once they were both finished, he tossed her his robe, then pulled on a pair of dry jeans without bothering with boxers beneath them.

  Bundling up the sodden mess of clothes, he opened the bedroom door. “I’ll just take these to Teresa and be right back.”

  “Take your time. This is so humiliating,” she murmured, sitting on the edge of his bed, shaking her head.

  “Yeah, getting caught in a storm is a real embarrassment.” He grinned at her then bolted back down the stairs. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere, but he wanted to get back to her quickly.

  Teresa was waiting for him. “I’ll get those dry. You take up that tray I fixed for the two of you. Get some of that hot coffee into Andi before she turns into an icicle.”

  “I will.” Mac spotted the tray on the kitchen table and couldn’t stop the smile of appreciation. There was leftover fried chicken, potato salad, a half-dozen cookies, two mugs and a small carafe of coffee.

  Impulsively, he kissed her cheek and was shocked to see her blush. “You are a wonder,” he said softly. “And I don’t think I tell you that often enough. Thanks, Teresa. I appreciate it.”

  “Well, now, you two need some warming up—and food and coffee are just one of the ways to get that done.” She slid him a sly smile. “I imagine you can think of another way.”

  He winked at her. “Oh, one or two come to mind.”

  Back upstairs, he found Andi just where he’d left her. Her hair was dark and wet and she was looking a little less sure of herself, which was, he told himself, a good thing. He wanted her as off balance as he’d been lately. Damn it, all he could think about was her. From the first day of their two-week agreement, she’d been front and center in his mind. And if anything, it had only gotten worse the more time they spent together. Her laugh haunted him, her eyes filled his dreams and the scent of her seemed to always be in the air. Andi had somehow become a part of him and he wasn’t quite sure what to do about that.

  Oh, he’d once thought about a future wife and children in a vague, maybe-one-day kind of way. But that was a long time ago. Before he’d had responsibility thrust on him by his parents’ deaths.

  Then it had been not only the family ranch—that had been in McCallum hands for generations—and the business his father had been building, but there had also been Violet, his teenage sister he had to protect and look after. He and Vi had butted heads time and again, which was to be expected, but being brother and father to her had made keeping their relationship tight that much harder.

  So he’d buried himself in work because at least there, he was sure of his footing. Slowly, over time, he’d lost all sense of a future because his present was packed with far too much already.

  Mac’s parents had been happy. He and Vi had been raised by people who loved each other and them. But when they died, it was as if Mac had shut down that loving side of himself. The part that remembered family and laughter and the ease of just being happy. He hadn’t had time for happiness back then. It had all been about saving his father’s company. Keeping the ranch together. Diversifying. Building on a fortune to make sure that Violet would never have to worry. He’d expanded the ranch beyond his father’s dreams and he’d built a company that was larger and more successful than anyone could have imagined. And somewhere along the line, he realized, he’d lost himself.

  In the past ten days or so, he’d begun to find the man he used to be. He’d laughed more, talked more and done less work than he had in ten years. But who he was now was ingrained in his soul. Wasn’t it too late to go backward? To try to reclaim permanently the younger version of himself? The one that had plans beyond running a successful company? If he tried, didn’t he run the risk of losing everything he’d built?

  “Mac?” Andi’s voice cut into his thoughts and brought him back from the meandering road his mind had taken. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” he said, focusing on her and letting the rest go. For now, anyway. “Fine. Look. I bring supplies.”

  She smiled. “I can’t imagine what Teresa’s thinking right now.”

  “I can.” He grinned and carried the tray to the table set between the two cozy chairs in front of the hearth. “She’s thinking, Look at all that mud and water. He’s a lucky man to have a girl like Andrea Beaumont give him a second glance when he drags her through a thunderstorm on horseback.”

  Andi laughed as he’d meant her to.

  “Come over here,” he urged. “I’m gonna start a fire, get us both warmed up while we eat.”

  She stood up and he saw she was dwarfed by his dark red robe. The hem of it hung to well below her knees and her hands had disappeared into the sleeves. But she didn’t look as pale and cold as she had before. While she took a seat, picked up one of the coffee mugs and took a sip, Mac built a fire in the hearth.

  He supposed it really wasn’t cold enough to warrant it. And it was completely illogical to have a fire going while the air conditioner was running. But the flames already licking at the kindling and snapping up along the stacked logs were comforting. Romantic. With a naked Andi within arm’s reach, romantic was a very good thing.

  “I love a fireplace,” she said softly, staring at the blaze as the flickering light washed over her features. “I wish my house had one.”

  He took the chair beside hers, relishing the feel of the heat rushing toward him from the hearth. “Feel free to come and use mine any time you want.”

  “Thanks.” She tipped her head to one side and smiled at him. “Maybe I will.”

  They ate cold chicken and talked about the town, their families, their friends, studiously avoiding all mention of what was between them. Tension coiled in the air and snapped as hungrily as the flames on wood.

  By unspoken agreement, they hadn’t had sex since that first time, but whenever he tried to sleep, Mac relived that night over and over again. The taste of her. The feel of her beneath his hands. The hot damp core of her that took him in and held him. Before Andi, after he’d had a woman, she retreated from his mind, as if with the need satisfied, he was content to move on to whatever—or whoever—came next.

  With Andi, though, it was just the opposite. He wanted his hands on her again. Wanted to lay claim to all that she was. Wanted to hear her sighs and watch those storm-gray eyes of hers glaze over with passion then flash with completion when he took her.

  Hell. He just wanted her. All the damn time. More than his next breath. More than anything.

  “Um,” she said, as if reading his mind and the quick, hungry thoughts racing through it, “we should see if our clothes are dry. Or maybe I could borrow something of yours just to get home in and—”

  She was backing away. Sitting right there beside him and pulling back from him and he wasn’t going to let her. Need drove him out of his chair. Want had him kneeling on the floor in front of her, staring up into gray eyes that wo
uld, he was sure, continue to haunt him for years to come.

  “Or,” Mac said, as he came up on his knees, “there are other options.”

  She took a deep breath and shook her head, making her still-damp hair swing about her face. “Mac, we shouldn’t—”

  “Miss a golden opportunity,” he finished for her. Reaching out, he untied the robe belt at her waist, then spread the fabric apart. She shivered and her eyes went glassy as his hands skimmed over her body with sure, long strokes.

  “Oh, Mac...”

  She sighed and he knew he had her. Knew she wouldn’t say no, wouldn’t turn away from what they could find together. Running his hands up her body, he cupped her breasts and pulled gently at her rigid nipples. He loved watching that dazed expression come into her eyes. Loved the sound of her breath hitching in her lungs. Loved...

  He parted her thighs, spreading her legs wide, then leaned in, covered her with his mouth and devoured her. Her quick gasp of surprise, then desperation, filled his head. Her sighs, her whimpers, her jerky movements as he pleasured her body, fed him, pushed him on. He licked, nibbled, suckled at her until she lifted her hips off the chair and threaded her fingers through his hair, holding his head to her as her cries became pleas.

  She was frantic now for what he could give her and her need fueled his own. She cried out his name and the sound became a choked-off scream of release as the first explosions rocketed through her.

  He continued to push, to torment her even as her body splintered in his grasp. And before the last of the tremors shook her, he pulled her from the chair, laid her out on the rug in front of the fire and buried himself deep inside her.

  The tight, damp heat of her surrounded him, and Mac paused long enough to savor the sensation of being close enough to become a part of her. He threw his head back and practically roared his satisfaction. Then she moved, arching into him, rocking her hips, urging him on.

  “More, Mac,” she whispered harshly. “Give me more. Take more of me.” Her head tipped back, exposing the line of her throat, and he tucked his face into that curve, kissing her, feeling the beat of her heart in the pulse that pounded against his mouth.

  His mind fogged, his heart raced. Together they rushed to completion, bodies joined in an ancient dance that felt new and wondrous. All other thoughts fled, dissolving in the wide, deep ocean of sensation they were sinking into. He felt her body tighten around his, her legs lock around his middle and even as she called his name brokenly, he joined her in the fall, giving her everything he was.

  Ten

  It wasn’t until later, as they lay wrapped together in a blissful haze, that Mac suddenly snapped back to reality. When he realized what had just happened, he groaned, closed his eyes and muttered, “Damn it.”

  “What?” It came on a sigh, as if she really couldn’t bring herself to care what was wrong. She slid one hand down his back and her touch felt like fire-wrapped velvet.

  No way to do this an easy way. Just say it. Lifting his head, he stared down into her eyes and said, “I didn’t use protection.”

  Well, he thought, watching her eyes flash wide with apprehension, that was dropping a lead balloon on the festivities.

  “Oh, God.” She covered her eyes with one hand.

  He pulled away from her but didn’t move far. Her skin gleamed like fine porcelain in the firelight. Her eyes flashed and changed as emotions, like the firelit shadows, danced in them. “My fault,” he said tightly. “Can’t believe I did that. It’s never happened before. Swear to God, you are the only woman I’ve ever met who could shut down my brain so completely.”

  She worked up a pitiful smile at that halfhearted compliment. She sat up, grabbed her blanket and drew it around her shoulders before huddling deeply into it.

  “It’s okay,” she said firmly, as if trying to convince herself as well as him. “It was just the once. I’m sure it’s fine.”

  Mac snorted, disgusted with himself for losing control and amused at her attempt at a positive attitude. “Yeah, I’m guessing couples have been telling each other that for centuries.”

  “Couples?” she repeated softly, then shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. It’s fine, I’m sure.”

  Couples. Was that what they were? For so long, they’d been colleagues. Boss and assistant. Friends. Had they worked around to where they were a couple now? When did that happen? What the hell should he do about it?

  Too many things to think about when most of his blood supply was situated well below his brain. “We’ll find out soon enough, won’t we?” He propped his back against the closest chair, then dragged her up next to him despite her attempt to squirm away. She was stiff with tension, and he knew her mind had to be racing through every imaginable scenario and there was nothing he could do to make it easier.

  He stared into the fire and tried to do some thinking of his own. The first rush of panic and self-directed fury was easing now, and Mac indulged himself in exploring a few of those future possibilities. If Andi wasn’t pregnant, they could go on as they always had. Surprisingly enough, that notion wasn’t as appealing as it had been even two short weeks ago.

  If there was no baby and she still wanted to quit her job, he’d have to find a way to deal with that. He couldn’t force her to stay if she was determined to leave. Mac frowned at the fire as Andi shifted in his grasp, probably uneasy with her thoughts. And he really couldn’t blame her.

  If she was pregnant, well, that opened up a whole new road. She would be carrying his child, so she wouldn’t be walking away from him no matter what she wanted to believe.

  A baby. He rubbed one hand across his face, took a deep breath and released it slowly, waiting for another wave of panic.

  It didn’t come.

  Hell, he thought, if Andi was pregnant, she’d marry him, live here at the ranch. They’d work together, raise their kid and have great sex. The two of them would have the best of all possible worlds. That sounded pretty good to him.

  The hard part would be hog-tying her until she agreed with him.

  “Mac?”

  “Yeah?” He tightened his hold on her in case she tried to bolt.

  But she only turned her face up to his, her gray eyes stormy. “This doesn’t change anything between us. It can’t.”

  He tucked her head onto his shoulder, rested his chin on top of her head and stared into the fire blazing in the river-stone hearth. “Guess we’re gonna find out about that, aren’t we?”

  * * *

  A few days later, they still hadn’t really talked about what had happened and the possible repercussions. Andi simply refused to think about it because she knew that if a part of her would really love to be pregnant with Mac’s baby—it would never happen. If she were terrified at the possibility, it was almost guaranteed she’d be pregnant.

  That’s just the way life worked and she accepted it.

  Mac, though, had been acting differently for days. She couldn’t really identify what he was thinking, but she knew there was a change in him. Was it panic at the thought of perhaps being a father? Or was it something...else?

  A flutter of hope tangled with anticipation in the pit of her stomach. Maybe he had come to care for her. Maybe he was looking at what the two of them had and seeing it for what it could be. Maybe.

  “I bring pizza,” he announced as he came in from her kitchen. He was balancing a large butcher-block cutting board that held a steaming sausage-and-mushroom pie.

  All day, they’d worked on the pink room, with Mac helping the appliance delivery guy install her new black-and-chrome range. They’d tried out her new oven with a bake-it-yourself pizza she’d picked up at the market, and judging by the delicious scents wafting to her, it had worked great.

  Smiling in spite of the turmoil bubbling inside her, Andi held up two glasses of dark red wine. “And
I’ve already poured, so that’s great timing.”

  He frowned a little as he set the pizza down on her tiny coffee table. “Maybe you shouldn’t be drinking wine.”

  Andi sighed. “I’m not pregnant, Mac.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  “Well, until we do, cheers.” One glass wasn’t going to hurt her or the baby if there was one. And being here with Mac, in the twilight of an early summer evening, she needed the wine.

  He shrugged, served them each a slice and handed her a plate as he took a seat beside her on the floor. Andi took a bite, then waved a hand at her mouth in an attempt to cool it off.

  “Yep,” he said, “new oven works great. What’s convection?”

  “I should know that,” she admitted as she huffed out a breath trying to cool the molten cheese currently burning the roof of her mouth. “But I don’t.”

  “That makes me feel better,” he admitted with a grin. Taking a sip of his wine, he looked around the living room. “We did a really good job in here, didn’t we?”

  “We did.”

  “Great team.”

  “Don’t start.”

  “I’m not starting,” he told her with a wink, “I’m continuing. There’s a difference.”

  Mac being charming was hard to resist, and still, she had to. She picked up her wine for a sip.

  “Andi, we’ve got something great.” His gaze locked on to hers. “Don’t walk away from it.”

  Sighing a little, she shook her head. “I told you, Mac, I can’t keep working for you. I want a life.”

  “Well, so do I now.” He set his glass down, then plucked hers from her hand and set it aside, too. Taking her hands in his, he rubbed his thumbs across her knuckles while he looked deeply into her eyes. “Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve discovered a few things.”

  That flutter of hope beat a little faster in her stomach. “Such as?”

  Nodding, he said, “Such as, I forgot just how good it felt to take my horse out and ride the ranch myself instead of just relying on reports from my foreman.”