Her Improper Affair

by Shea Mcmaster

  “Yes. Wanda promised to tell me stories about my dad when he was in college.” She picked up the first water glass and started sipping.

  The moment the bread hit the table, Birdie was on it, slathering butter on a thick warm slice.

  “Guess she’s not ready for talkin’,” Wanda observed with great amusement.

  Birdie merely shook her head and bit into the best bread she remembered ever eating. Probably the hunger talking, but that didn’t stop her from moaning over the taste.

  Oswald was slower about helping himself, but at least he didn’t try to talk to her. If he knew anything about starving women, he’d wait until she’d made it halfway through her main dish before badgering her.

  No, he didn’t have talking in mind at all. After taking a bite of his bread, he slipped his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to kiss her temple.

  Mouth too full to speak, she gave him the hairy eyeball instead.

  The man had the nerve to smile down at her. The lady-killer, panty-melter smile. Damn him. She shifted on her bruised butt, beginning to feel her lower back tighten up as predicted.

  He must have read the discomfort on her face because he gently cupped her head and pulled it to his shoulder. “We can get the food to go if you prefer.”

  Mouth full once again, she shook her head. She didn’t think Wanda would like it much. For now Wanda puttered around the pub, serving other customers, taking time to chat and charm while keeping an eye on their table.

  “All right. As soon as we eat we’ll head back. Your place or mine?”

  She started to say her place, but then she remembered his magical shower and the huge tub. Yeah, her parents’ flat had a good sized Jacuzzi, but they didn’t have the exotic shower. Using her bread, she pointed at him and kept on chewing. A bit of her stress melted at the laugh he let out. It was a wonderful sound.

  Lunch was consumed quietly, and Birdie finally relaxed, eventually leaning against the arm he’d had to withdraw in order to eat. Didn’t stop him from pressing his leg against hers and dropping kisses on her head every chance he had.

  This new Oswald was confusing the hell out of her, but today, she wouldn’t complain.

  “All better?” Wanda asked as she cleared their dishes. Birdie’s was nearly licked clean.

  Resting her head on Ozzie’s shoulder, Birdie patted her stomach. “Much better. I was starving.”

  Wanda laughed. “Ye look too sleepy to ’ang out here this afternoon. Have a wild time last night?”

  While Ozzie chuckled, Birdie’s face flamed. “You might say that. I’m trying to forget most of it.”

  Wanda laughed more and slapped a ticket down on the table at Ozzie’s elbow. “Ye take good care of ’er, Oswald. Ye don’t get ’round ’ere often enough yourself.”

  Ozzie pulled out his wallet, thumbed through a wad of bills, stacked them on the ticket, and handed the lot to Wanda. “We’ll try to catch you when there’s time to sit and chat. I’ve heard there are tales to be told.”

  “Right ye are, mate. Now don’t be strangers.” She waved them off and turned toward the kitchen, carrying her tray loaded with dirty dishes.

  From there it wasn’t but a ten minute drive to Ozzie’s house.

  By the time Birdie settled into his tub, with him at her back, she’d lost the will to fight with him.

  “Have I thanked you for breaking me out of jail?” She moaned as his fingers began rubbing her shoulders.

  “No, you’ve grumped at me. But I’m sure you’ll think of a way to help me understand your gratitude. There’s a time honored way a lady usually rewards her knights.

  Birdie snorted. “I don’t think a scarf tied around your lance will be suitable.”

  “I don’t know. It sounds like an intriguing start.”

  His voice was just lecherous enough a shiver of delicious heat ran through her. One that had little to do with the hot water surrounding them and more to do with the hot man holding her.

  “What hurts the most?” he asked. The fact his lips were nibbling near her ear didn’t hurt.

  “My butt is bruised, and my lower back is stiffening up. I really need a massage.” She rubbed her head against his neck. “Aren’t you sore, too? Don’t you need a massage as well?”

  “Not so much. I think I can figure out a way to help us both. Let’s start with the water jets.” He pressed a button and the water began madly bubbling.

  “Is there anything you can’t do?” She tilted her head and he took advantage, nibbling his way down her neck.

  “Plenty. But whatever you need me to do, I’ll do my best to figure it out.”

  She let him have his way, enjoying every touch, every caress, every kiss until even her back relaxed and she hovered on the edge of sleep.

  “Why the change, Ozzie?” she asked.

  “What change?” His fingers plucked at her nipples, and she nearly forgot the question she’d asked.

  “Monday you were so wonderful, and then Tuesday you were back to being cold. You avoided me all week.”

  “No I didn’t. I very clearly remember kissing you in my office. Something we should never, ever do. At least not until you’re head of the company.”

  “Something that is likely to never happen, as I have demonstrated my lack of leadership.” She was more the power behind the throne than the figurehead to sit on the big chair type, anyway. “But before that kiss you were back to being a hard ass. And then you hid from me the rest of the week. I can’t keep up with your moodiness.”

  Against her back, Ozzie’s laughed rumbled pleasantly. “I’ll give you that one, only in regards to Tuesday. Just before you came in I’d finished setting up the meeting about last night’s event. I’d been on the phone most of the day with a private investigator I hired Sunday afternoon. What he told me made me extremely angry, and I was having trouble not punching something.”

  “And then something so petty as unintentionally shared chocolate led to a memo from Dad. So silly, and yet, so disrupting.” She shifted, pressing her breasts upward, wanting his hands on her more fully.

  “Maybe it seemed silly, but it was a blatant show of disrespect for you. I haven’t heard of anything else, so I’m assuming they’ve either left you alone or have made a show of respecting you.”

  “Left me alone. I’ve had my head buried in data entry for the last three days. I now know when a huge shipment of Belgium chocolates will arrive for the Christmas season.”

  “Insider information. What will you do with it?”

  “Get my boxes out before the rest goes to our customers. By the way, thank you for the Godiva.”

  “Godiva?” He feigned ignorance well, but she didn’t buy it.

  “I took them home. Not sharing that box. You did good. All soft milk chocolate.”

  “I’m afraid I’m being thanked for something I didn’t do. But you can thank me for this later.” His hand slipped between her thighs.

  “We’re not done talking about your high-handed ways.”

  “For now we are.”

  His kiss silenced the subject.

  * * * *

  Later, much later, as Courtney lay in his arms, Oswald took the time to reconsider his future. Their future.

  In the final throes of her amazing climax, one he felt very proud of, she’d let slip the best three-word sentence he’d ever heard in his life.

  “I love you,” she’d gasped, sending his own release off the charts, before she’d collapsed into a blissful sleep. In fact, she still lay on top of him, using his body for her personal mattress. Something he liked very much.

  Not just liked. Loved.

  There went that funny little feeling of warmth exploding from the region of his heart, sending waves of contentment throughout his entire being.

  He loved her too. More than he could ever say in words.

  But he could show her.

  He loved her cheeriness that lightened his
darkness. He loved the way she teased him, making silly nicknames depending on her mood. It was hard not to smile back at her when she smiled at him. All her smiles, from coy to outright joy. He loved her wide-eyed innocence and wanted to shield her from the ugly truths of the world so she never lost it.

  Which led to the next logical leap.

  Forever.

  Hell, he was going to have to marry her sooner or later. Damned if he couldn’t stop from smiling over it.

  He stroked a hand down the smooth skin of her slender back, stopping to lightly massage the sore spot from where her spine had been jammed into her pelvic cradle. She was also right about her very beautiful arse being bruised on the right side where she’d landed the hardest. He’d rubbed some arnica gel into her skin, and promised to do it often until the bruising faded. She’d done the same for the bruises over his left ribs with a light touch.

  She was tender, his woman. And it was up to him to see she stayed that way.

  He’d already made a good start by removing Whetmore from the picture. Rumor had it he was on his way to Italy. Wouldn’t take much to put a word into the ear of the local authorities to keep an eye out. Eventually Whetmore would either get thrown in prison or run out of the country until he had no place to go but the far Outback of Australia or deep into someplace like Libya. Time would tell, but there were people watching his movements enough Oswald didn’t have to worry about him.

  Word had started filtering through the management levels at work. Eventually she’d find out, but he’d deny his words to the end. Only a few more months before she was working in the executive office, anyway. Hopefully her internship through the rest of the departments would be much smoother. She’d learn the ins and outs, and at least put names to the faces of the management structure. That was exactly what her internship was about, Courtney having daily contact with the people who reported to the top so she knew how to best work with them.

  So, with that much laid out, all he had to do was figure out the timing.

  Rushing her didn’t seem wise. They were far too new in this relationship to immediately make a lifetime commitment. He was committed, but he didn’t know her idea of how fast she wanted to move toward a wedding. Maybe they’d date for a few months with occasional overnights, but still living in separate quarters. She’d talked of having her own place, but was it really necessary? After a few months of dating he could see her moving in with him. Another logical step as they grew closer. It would certainly increase the odds of sex on a nightly basis and no one would quibble with the desirability of that plan. From there, a Valentine’s Day engagement? How fast would her parents push for a wedding? He didn’t see the need for a long engagement, or a huge society wedding, but he was certain Randi wouldn’t hear of anything smaller. Neither would Court, knowing his need to spoil his daughter as much as she’d allow him.

  Right. Date until November. Move in, enjoy the holidays, maybe take a skiing trip in January, or combine it with a proposal in February, then sit back and let her and her mother plan a June wedding.

  There. He had a timeline set. Right after the wedding he’d step away from Lynford and put his business plans into motion. Perfect.

  Simple, logical, practical. Courtney would love it.

  He’d discuss the plan with her later.

  Right now, he needed to tell her something important. She’d confessed her love for him. It was time to return the sentiment.

  Chapter 29

  Like living a dream, Birdie floated through the rest of the summer buoyed by a pink cloud of love—yes, he loved her!—spending most of her free time with Oswald. Walks in green parks, drives in the country, and even one day punting on the Thames, far upstream from London.

  On the few days they didn’t spend together outside of work, Birdie shopped and dined with her grandmother or her new friends. It was if the day on the bridge had been her turning point. From that night onward, life became golden. Oswald’s turn toward tender lover had much to do with it. Most nights they had dinner together. Sometimes out, sometimes at her place, other times at his. At his house they also made use of the training room for actual training, but just as often for playing. Some of those memories had the power to make her blush at inappropriate times.

  By unspoken agreement, they kept their affair under the radar at work, where things had improved as well. She suspected Ozzie had stepped in at one point, or Mrs. Smith had. Or her father as he touched base with his executive team. Word had somehow filtered down, and Birdie was treated with careful politeness. It was frustrating because she knew people didn’t exactly feel comfortable around her. But there were no more hazing incidents, and for that she was grateful.

  Their life was also blissfully free of Deirdre and her cohorts. They still saw her at the social events Ozzie figured they were obligated to attend, but by mutual distaste, they stayed on opposite sides of the room. The tabloids had certainly noted Ozzie’s constant companion, her, and the fact Deirdre had a new man on her arm at each event. She changed them out like she did her dresses.

  One afternoon in mid-October, Birdie finished her work and headed toward Ozzie’s office. They had plans to work out at his gym where the owner had asked him to teach a beginner’s class for a couple weeks. She had her tote with clothes over her shoulder and was excited to see how a real class worked. Ozzie had told her she could easily hold her own, and she wanted to see if it was true.

  Mrs. Cuthbert told her she was free to go in. Ozzie was on the phone with her father.

  She knocked and entered when he called, “Come!” that created a pleasant burn in her.

  Opening the door, she heard Ozzie say, “Your favorite rising star just walked in, Court.”

  “Birdie!”

  She smiled at the joy in his voice. “Hope I’m not interrupting plans for world domination.”

  “As if we’d leave you out of those plans,” her father said with a chuckle. “Actually, I’m glad you’re there. Your mother wants to talk to you. Not that I’m trying to get rid of you, but why don’t you use the phone in my office? Oswald and I still have a bit of business to discuss.”

  “Oh, I see. You really do want to get rid of me,” she teased. “Fine, I’ll happily talk to Mom on not only company time, but on their dime.”

  “Nice rhyme there.” Oswald winked at her.

  “Your mum will catch me up on the details after you two talk. But I’m very much looking forward to spending time with you when we get home in just a few weeks.”

  Birdie’s heart melted a little. “I miss both of you too. It will be fun to see everyone over turkey again.”

  “Our own Thanksgiving, as in we’re thankful for bringing our family together.”

  Birdie grinned at Oswald who smiled back, and answered for her, “You’re about to send her into tears. Enough of the mushy stuff.”

  Dad laughed. “Well, you’re expected at the family dinner too, Oswald. In fact, we’re inviting Mrs. C as well. Feels like a good year for a big celebration.”

  “Oh boy,” Birdie responded. “I’ll go call Mom now. Sounds like I need to get a handle on these plans early.”

  “Excellent idea, puddin’. Ah, there Mum is. She has her phone charged up and ready to settle in for a long chat. I’ll let you two get to it.”

  “Love you,” she called out as she sailed out the door.

  * * * *

  Without thinking, Oswald called back at the same time Court did. Then there was silence on the other end of the line. A pause, during which Oswald felt his cheeks burn. Shite.

  “That’s the way it is, eh?” Court’s voice was mild, but Oswald wasn’t fooled by the man’s apparent disinterest.

  With a heavy sigh, he pulled off his glasses and tossed them on his desk. The better to scrub his face with both hands. “Yeah. I love her.”

  “Congratulations. Now what are your intentions?”

  “Sure we don’t have more business to discuss?”

 
; “Nothing as important as this topic.”

  Oswald sighed again. “Yeah. You’re right. This is pretty big news. Especially to me.”

  Thankfully Court laughed. “I bet. For the man who said he’d never marry, I have to wonder if love will lead to matrimony.”

  “And you’re the one I need to talk to, although this is way premature. I was holding off until Christmas to speak to you, face to face. Ask for her hand properly and all that.”

  “And when did you plan to propose?”

  “Valentine’s? While on a ski holiday? Possibly in Switzerland?”

  Court was already tsking by the time Oswald finished speaking.

  “You know the tradition of asking over a big family gathering. It’s not just the Robinson men. Albert asked Liza the same way,” Court patiently explained. “The whole family would be disappointed to be excluded.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not big on public displays.”

  “Why not propose at the Thanksgiving dinner? We’ll help you plan it if you like.”

  “Oh that takes the pressure off,” Oswald said in his driest tone.

  Court merely chuckled. “She’s worth a little sweat.”

  “Absolutely,” he replied immediately. “Of course she is.”

  “Good answer, my boy. So, are you going to ask me?”

  Sensing there was no room for squirming, he didn’t even pause before saying, “Courtland, I request the honor of your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  “You have my blessing, Oswald. Welcome to the family.”

  A few minutes later Court rang off, and Oswald flopped against the back of his chair, a layer of sweat soaking his shirt, he was sure. Felt like buckets were pouring off him. Now that it was over, he reflected it hadn’t been so bad. At least he didn’t have to spend the next few months working up to it, trying to be clever. Instead, he had about four weeks to plan a proposal that put Court and Drew’s to shame.

  As Courtney would say, easy peasy lemon squeezy. Whatever the bloody hell that meant.

  Over the next three days he began to learn just how determined the Robinson clan could be. Mostly it was kind of cool, but also a little annoying. Like he couldn’t come up with an idea on his own?