by Baird, Ginny
Two and a half hours later, Ventura limped from the SUV, feeling like she’d just emerged from Boot Camp.
Jason paused on the steps to Richard’s townhouse, clutching an express mail package. “Everything all right?” he asked, studying Ventura unsurely.
“Oh yeah, fine! Just fine,” she said, tugging each of the children by the hand and leading them indoors.
His eyes flitted to the curb to survey the SUV for damage, before his face became awash with relief. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” he told her, scampering away.
Ventura herded the kids upstairs and toward their rooms.
“Now remember to change quickly!” she told them. “Your clothes are all laid out for you on your beds.”
The kids disappeared, and Ventura picked up the heavy laundry basket on the floor with a sigh. Did the wash never end around here? She’d put everything away except for Richard’s clothes. She’d do that now while Elisa and Ricky were getting ready and before Richard came home. Ventura strode to the master suite, thinking things were coming along. She’d figured out her new cell and had already memorized the children’s schedules. This made it easier for her to plan out her day, when she had a good grasp on the order of her duties.
Ventura was halfway through the door when she stopped short. There, straight in front of her, standing half-nude before his dresser was…Richard!
His chest was muscled and broad, taut abs constricting. “Ventura,” he said, turning toward her with a jerk. “What are you doing here?” He wore crisp white shorts, tennis socks, and shoes. A tennis racket case lay on his bed. His very big bed. The one he probably slept in half-naked—at least.
Ventura swallowed hard, her face on fire. Her palms pooled with sweat, loosening her grip on the basket handles.
“I was just putting away the laundry,” she offered lamely.
He glanced at the basket in her hands. “I see.”
Ventura felt something weighty smack her left foot and looked down to see she’d dropped the basket. It spilled over, balled-up pairs of socks escaping in all directions. “I’ll get that,” she said, mortified.
But as she raced forward, so did he. “It’s all right. Let me.”
Before she knew it, Ventura’s toe caught on—oh please, not that—a pair of Richard’s plaid boxers, and she stumbled forward.
“Ventura!” he called, reaching out to catch her.
“Richard!” she screeched, crashing into him.
He grabbed her around the waist and shored her up, steadying her frame against his gloriously rock-hard chest.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking down at her with deep dark eyes.
She nodded and collected herself. “Yeah,” she said, barely breathing the word.
“Good.” He straightened her, then let her go.
“I’m so sorry,” she babbled apologetically. “I had no clue you were in here.”
“I had no idea you and the kids were back. It’s my fault, really. I should have shut the door.”
“No harm done,” she said, backing away, her cheeks still flaming hot.
“None at all,” he agreed as he watched her with a curious expression.
As she turned to leave, he stopped her. “Ventura?”
She stared at him, her heart pounding.
“Do you think I could have my shorts back?”
Ventura gasped and looked down in horror, spying Richard’s underwear twisted snugly around her shoe.
Chapter Seven
“That’s not what most women mean when they talk about getting into their boss’s shorts.”
“Shut up,” Ventura said with a laugh. She and Mary stood thumbing through a rack of sexy bras at a downtown lingerie shop.
“How about this one?” Mary asked, her face aglow. “This will make Charles sit up and take notice.”
Ventura scrunched up her lips at the black-and-red lace bra with “peekaboo” cut-away nipples. “I’m going on a date, not a ho down.”
“Very funny.” Mary picked through the rack, producing another selection. It was cobalt blue with a hefty underwire and big push-up pads. “Well?”
“It looks…small.”
Mary cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to put your best assets out there?”
Ventura studied her doubtfully. “I don’t know.”
“Come on,” Mary urged. “Try it on. It will make you feel sexy.”
Of all the things Ventura had been in her lifetime, sexy had not been among them. “It’s not like Charles will be seeing it.”
“Who says he has to? It’s all about how you feel on the inside. That undercurrent of…yeow.”
“Fine,” Ventura said, resigned. “I’ll try it on.”
“Ooh!” Mary said, grabbing a few more items off the rack. “Take these too!”
A few moments later, Mary called over the dressing room wall, “So? How’s it look?”
“Too tight,” Ventura said, popping open the door.
Mary pushed it the rest of the way open. “Are you kidding me? You look like a brick house!”
“And that, I suppose, would be good?”
“Better than good.” Mary shot her an encouraging grin. “I say, go with it.”
As they stood in line for the cash register, Mary spoke as nonchalantly as she could. “So, what’s the deal with the driving instructor?”
“You mean Jason?”
“Richard’s personal assistant, yeah.”
“That one’s super organized, let me tell you. Richard calls him the master scheduler.”
Mary casually studied her nails. “Do you think you could get him to pencil me in?”
Ventura turned toward her with a grin. “I can’t believe my ears. Are you actually asking me to set you up?”
Mary met her eyes sincerely. “Something strange is happening to me. I’m worried I’m losing my touch. Guys used to be all over me. And now… Well, I don’t know. Do you think it has something to do with my horoscope?”
“What about Ed? The one who works at the White House? He took you on that private tour, remember?”
Mary huffed. “Yeah, me and whole team of cheerleaders from Nevada.”
“Oh!”
“And Reginald?” Ventura asked.
“The Republican intern?” Mary lowered her voice confidentially. “Got his boxers in a bunch because I said the Dems do better fashion. I mean, really,” she said rolling her eyes. “Think Jackie Kennedy.”
“What about George? The one from the deli?”
“Said he got tired of waiting and started dating some cappuccino girl.”
“You make coffee.”
Mary pointedly raised an eyebrow.
“All right. I’ll ask about Jason. And you know, you might just have a chance.”
Mary’s face brightened. “What? Did he say something?”
“Yeah. He wanted to know where you get your mud masks.”
Mary slapped her arm. “Ha-ha.”
The next morning on the Metro, Ventura questioned Mary’s hot idea. The bra pinched so much, she ached each time she moved. Plus it made her much too large for this complementary cobalt blue silk blouse. Richard had asked her to take the train today because he had an early teleconference and Jason was busy helping him get ready. Ventura didn’t mind the Metro-to-bus connection. She was happy to do it if it helped Richard out and almost felt spoiled having had a personal chauffer her first few weeks at the new job.
She shifted in her seat, checking her smart phone. It was cool to have a gadget that allowed her to surf the Internet and scan the latest job postings. Not that Richard wasn’t a dream to work for. He was the absolute best boss and far too easy on the eyes. This only complicated matters, since Ventura felt awkward about becoming attracted to her supervisor. But maybe that was normal, a crush-on-the-teacher sort of thing that could happen to any girl. The good thing was she had Charles to focus on. Charles was an eligible guy and someone who was clearly attracted to her, which was a fun new turn of
events. Ventura hadn’t felt longed for since… Well, she guessed, she’d never experienced that feeling at all. And it was great. Really super. Everything it was made out to be in all those romantic songs.
While Ventura was settling into her job as a nanny, it wasn’t something she aspired to be forever. She had bigger plans in mind, plans concerning her writing and making her literary mark in the world. In the meantime, Richard’s kids seemed to be getting easier to manage. Now that she knew Elisa collected baseball cards and Ricky loved chocolate peanut butter ice cream, she had a handle on how to get their cooperation. Ventura looked up from her phone, noticing other people on the subway car were staring at her. She couldn’t for the life of her fathom why, until she felt the brisk burst of air at her chest. Ventura looked down with a start to see her too tight blouse had burst open, exposing her sexy push-up bra. She quickly tugged it shut, furiously searching her seat and the floor for the missing buttons. But her stop was upon her, and subway doors slid open. Ventura gritted her teeth and raced from the car, clutching her blouse. “Have a good day!” she told the others as they gaped.
“Jason,” Ventura whispered as she made her way into Richard’s kitchen, “do you have a few safety pins I could borrow?” He glanced at her hands gripping her blouse and tugging it shut.
“Um, sure. Hang on one second.”
“I’ll be in the bathroom,” she said, heading that direction.
En route, she nearly bumped into Richard in the narrow hall.
“Everything okay?”
“Uh-huh,” she said with a death grip on her blouse.
Richard angled his chin and eyed her curiously. “If it’s too cold in here, I can turn up the air-conditioning.”
“Oh no!” She felt herself blush fiercely as she hurried past him. “That won’t be necessary.”
For the first time all week, the kids had some downtime, which was good since it was Friday afternoon. All Ventura had to do was get through these next few hours; then she’d be seeing Charles for their big date.
The kids had asked her to read them some stories, which sounded ideal to Ventura at the moment. She was exhausted from a morning of birthday parties and roller skating, and that was after she’d picked the kids up from their ritzy year-round kindergarten program. They sat on the sofa in the den, with Ricky snuggled up on her left and Elisa on her right. After her day of running around and indulging the kids by joining them on wheels, her cushioned seat felt like heaven. Each child had picked out some books, including newer titles and a few old classics. This won’t be so bad, Ventura thought with a yawn. She actually liked bedtime stories. Before long, little Ricky had dozed off and soon little Elisa had also slumped against her. Was it any wonder the kids were exhausted from the rapid-fire pace of the life they led? Ventura found it slightly overwhelming too. Her eyelids began to droop as the book slipped in her hands. She felt the weight of it settle in her lap as a soothing darkness closed in.
“Who’s been sleeping in my bed?” a sexy baritone rumbled.
Someone yanked back the covers and Ventura’s eyed popped open.
“Richard?” she asked, sitting up.
He sat down beside her on his king-size bed and cupped her cheeks in his hands. Her skin tingled, and her body felt warm all over. “Why, Ventura,” he said in a husky whisper, “what big eyes you have.”
Ventura caught her breath as his handsome face grew near.
“And your lips.” He moaned like a beast of the wild. “They’re to kill for.”
“Die for?” she asked uncertainly.
“Yeah.” His gaze delved into hers like he longed to devour her completely. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this. To take you, to have all of you.”
She stared up at him, her heart on fire and cheeks ablaze. “Me too, Richard. Oh, me too.”
Her silk blouse gaped open, but she didn’t care. In fact, she hoped he’d rip it off her completely.
“Ventura,” he growled, his mouth hovering over hers. “My sweet Ventura. How I want to make you mine.”
“Oh, Richard,” she sighed as his mouth closed in.
His lips brushed hers.
“Ventura…”
“Richard…”
“Ventura?” he said more loudly. “Can you hear me?”
Ventura opened her eyes with a start to find Richard leaning over her where she’d apparently been dozing on the sofa with both kids.
“Richard!” she yelped.
He eyed the books on the floor with a laugh. “Well, I’m not the Big Bad Wolf.”
“Of course you’re not,” she said, straightening her blouse as the kids groggily awakened.
“Looks like you’ve all had quite a day.”
“Ventura took us skating,” Elisa said with a happy smile.
Little Ricky’s eyes were wide. “She can even do it backwards!”
“Is that so?” Richard asked with a chuckle. He eyed Ventura with appreciation, and her face warmed under his perusal. “Well, how about that.”
Richard watched Ventura flit around the kitchen, thinking she was mighty perky. Perhaps the nap had done her good, or maybe it was that second cup of afternoon coffee that added extra spring to her step.
“I think everything’s in order,” she told him, putting away the last of the clean dishes.
The kids sat at the table, companionably coloring in matching shapes on a handout, big glasses of milk and fresh-baked cookies settled before them. Although she must have baked them hours ago, the kitchen still smelled invitingly of chocolate chips. Ventura had fed the kids early and given them dessert as they finished up the last of their homework. Richard had another boring gala to attend this evening, or else he would have eaten with them. Generally he fed the kids later, after Ventura had gone. Tonight she’d done him a special favor by doing this early to spare the teenage babysitter the extra effort. A horn blew outside, and Richard glanced through the front window, seeing a car parked outside. “Guess that’s my ride!” Ventura said brightly, scooping up her purse.
“Your ride?” Richard asked, perplexed. Jason usually drove Ventura home. Richard wasn’t sure what was different about tonight.
Her expression was sunny, her cheeks a dusty rose. “I’ve got a date,” she said with a happy lilt to her voice.
Richard blinked, feeling like someone had thrust an arrow through his chest. But that was absurd, wasn’t it? Why would it matter to him that Ventura was seeing someone? She was pretty, smart, and funny. It only made sense, didn’t it?
“A date. I see,” he stated, trying to sound casual about it. “Well, I hope you have fun.”
She patted each of the kids on the head, then shot him a grin. “Thanks! I’ll try.”
Richard cleared his throat and strode to his office to get a better look out the window. Ventura practically ran down the steps and a good-looking guy stepped from the car. Richard thought he recognized him as Ventura’s date from the Tidal Basin. He was blond and built, and most assuredly single. Free as a bird to take Ventura on any sort of outing her heart desired. Ventura glanced back toward the house, and Richard stepped away from the window. Spying on the nanny! What was wrong with him, anyway? It wasn’t like he couldn’t have any woman in Washington. The females here were after him all the time.
He snuck back toward the window to peer out once again as Ventura and her date drove away. Any woman in Washington but that one, he thought with a frown. She was not only his employee, which would make seeing her improper, but she was clearly into somebody else. Richard checked the clock on his desk and saw it was time to dress in his tuxedo and put on another show. Although tonight that performance would ring extra hollow. Having a beautiful woman on his arm didn’t mean nearly as much as being with someone he felt he could talk to. Someone with a sharp wit and a good brain, and he couldn’t help but notice, since he was only human, a naturally pretty face and enticingly hot body. Richard drew a breath, ashamed of himself for having such thoughts about a woman he’d hired.
He wondered briefly what might have happened if she’d landed a job in her field from the start and they’d met again on personal terms rather than for business. But that was silly to think of now, given how life had evolved. The best thing Richard could do was to put any notions of becoming involved with Ventura out of his mind and focus on their working together, as politely and professionally as possible.
Ventura and Charles sat in a swanky pizza place in Georgetown, swapping stories over mugs of beer. Charles glanced at her blouse, which was held together with a series of safety pins, then met her eyes.
“You look great,” he told her. “Blue’s your color.”
“Thanks.”
“So tell me. How do you like working for the Blakes?”
Ventura took a sip of her beer, then set it down. “I’d rather not talk shop tonight,” she said, still mentally kicking herself for that wild fantasy/dream about Richard and her in some storybook realm. What was that all about?
“We can talk about anything you want. How about the Fourth of July?”
She looked at him expectantly.
“If you’ve never seen Washington on the Fourth, then it’s a must. People take picnics down to the Capitol lawn. The National Symphony plays. There are fireworks…”
Ventura felt a grin tugging at her lips.
“Did I say something funny?”
“No, it’s just that you’re being so sweet. Asking me on another picnic.”
“No fears. I won’t let you fall in the Reflecting Pool.”
Ventura laughed happily.
“I’ll pack our supper…” Charles tempted, his deep blue eyes sparkling. Ventura would be a fool to say no, and she knew it. Why then did she feel halfhearted in her response?
“Sounds great. Thanks.”
Later that night, Ventura and Charles stood saying good night outside her front door.
“Thanks so much for everything,” she told him. “I had a really good time.”
“So did I.” He studied her with a smile. “You’re very easy to talk to, you know.”