In Her Boss's Bed

by Maggie Cox

  ‘Much better to do that than screw her up with lots of different men coming in and out of my life.’

  ‘Lots of different men?’ Conall rose slowly up from his seat. A muscle twitched in his jaw. ‘Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve been saying? You seem so sure that all I want from you is a few quick tumbles in bed and that’s it. I know my track record with women hasn’t been the stuff of romance novels, but then I hadn’t met you, had I? I never wanted to commit to anybody before because I too was cynical about relationships lasting.

  ‘It’s the old story; I saw my parents’ marriage disintegrate before my eyes and was furious when they didn’t patch it up and get back together—even though the break-up came about because my father couldn’t resist playing around. I thought it was better to play the field a little than get serious about anyone, because I saw how broken-hearted my mother was when my father was persistently unfaithful. I was hoping to save myself from that particular pain. Unfortunately my mother just sees my non-committal attitude towards women as a character trait I’ve inherited from my dad. Now I see that I was wrong to treat those relationships so lightly. I probably hurt at least a couple of those women I went out with because I wouldn’t commit, and I can honestly say that I regret that. They deserved better.’

  He walked to the door. ‘Think about it, Morgen. Next week I’m flying out to New York for a few days to wind up some business there. When I get back I’d like to know if you and I are going to get together.’

  ‘Get together?’ Her expression startled, Morgen glanced at him with troubled green eyes. ‘You mean—live together?’

  ‘Not straight away, but that’s the general idea. I know you’re concerned about the effect it will have on Neesha, but I promise you I won’t be rushing anything. I’d like us both to get to know each other better first. I’d like to get to know Neesha, and to give her the chance to get to know me. Then, when a little time has passed, I’ll buy us a house here in London.’

  Morgen smelt burning. She spun round just as the toast popped out of the toaster and saw that it was black. Her hands shaking, she threw the burnt slices into the swing bin in the recess by her feet, then raised her gaze to Conall’s again. He was leaning against the doorjamb, looking worryingly pale.

  ‘I’ll make some fresh toast. Why don’t you go and lie down on the sofa and I’ll bring you in a nice cup of coffee? Please, Conall. I don’t think you should really be up and about at all.’

  ‘Have you been listening to me?’ Grouchy and tired, he scowled.

  Morgen’s heart went out to him, but even so she was wary of falling for promises that he might not be able to keep. As he admitted, his track record with women wasn’t good. Why should she be the exception to the rule?

  ‘Of course I’ve been listening. And I promise I’ll think about what you said. But right now your health and comfort is my primary concern.’

  ‘Shame I didn’t nab a spare nurse’s uniform from the hospital. Seeing you dressed up in that, with black stockings and suspenders, would do my health and comfort a power of good!’ Amused at her wide-eyed reaction, as well as mildly turned on by his own outrageous fantasy, Conall turned obediently back into the living room to stretch out on the sofa.

  CHAPTER TEN

  BY THE time Morgen returned to the living room, with the promised coffee and toast, Conall had fallen asleep. His long jean-clad legs stuck out past the arm of the sofa, his silky brown hair flopped boyishly across his brow and his features were relaxed at last in the guise of sleep. There was an uncharacteristic vulnerability about him that brought all Morgen’s nurturing instincts rushing to the fore.

  Leaving the coffee and toast on a side table, she dropped down a little wearily into a nearby armchair and settled her back against two embroidered cushions. Free to pursue her own thoughts at last, she couldn’t avoid the truth that was now staring her straight in the face. She was in love with Conall. Head over heels, jump through hoops, crazy about the man.

  When Julie had burst into the office this morning and told her what had happened to him last night, Morgen had known then her life would never be the same if she lost him. But whether she was ready to commit to him, as he professed he was ready and willing to commit to her, Morgen still didn’t know. There just seemed to be too many obstacles against their relationship working out as far as she was concerned.

  Conall was used to just thinking about himself. As far as she was aware, he’d enjoyed a high-octane, fast-living life in New York and, like Simon before him, obviously moved in very different social circles from Morgen. He’d already admitted he’d dated lots of other women—and what if his mother was right? What if he was too much like his father to change? She didn’t think she would be able to bear it if he were ever unfaithful to her even once—let alone several times!

  And how could she risk her own and her daughter’s happiness on a man who knew nothing of taking care of a family, who was unfamiliar with the demands that family made on you as well as all the mundane day-to-day domesticity that inevitably came with it? What if, after a few months, or even weeks, he started to feel trapped? Bored? The feelings he had for her would soon diminish to resentment. These things happened, and Morgen wasn’t unaware of the possibility.

  But oh, how she longed for him. Just knowing he was in the world made her feel better, while being with him filled her with a kind of restless excitement that wouldn’t be subdued. Every cell in her body had become exquisitely sensitive to his presence, as if they were almost sharing the same breath. In bed they’d shared a passion that could light up the whole of London with its force, and Morgen had secretly basked in the power of her femininity, feeling beautiful and desired in his arms.

  But what would happen when he introduced her to his friends as his former secretary? Would they look down their noses at her status? Would they think she had somehow tricked him into being with her? And what about his family? How would they react when they knew their handsome successful son had fallen for someone who worked in his office? Remembering how disdainful Simon’s parents had been, Morgen shuddered. It would be a cold day in hell before she allowed anyone to make her feel so unworthy again.

  Stirring in his sleep, Conall murmured something unintelligible, his sudden movement shaking Morgen out of her painful reverie. She got up, cleared away the coffee and now cold toast, and took them back into the kitchen. Plugging in the kettle, she resolved to make a cup of tea, then ring the office to see if there were any messages. As soon as Conall was awake again she would see what he needed her to do, then get back to the office just as soon as she could. If nothing else, the distance between them would maybe help her think a little straighter.

  At four-thirty that afternoon, Conall rang Morgen at the office for the third time.

  ‘Morgen?’

  ‘Conall.’ Picking up her pen, she doodled a smiley face on her shorthand pad, trying hard to ignore the fact that the sound of her racing heart was almost deafening her.

  ‘I need you to come over here.’

  ‘Why?’ Her back straightening, her first thought was that he was in pain, or maybe needed a doctor.

  ‘I want to see you before you go home.’

  ‘Why?’

  She heard him curse, and bit her lip to stop herself grinning.

  ‘You ask too many questions, you know that?’

  ‘It’s part of my job. I’m trained to meet my boss’s every need.’

  ‘Now we’re talking.’ His voice turning gravelly, Conall chuckled down the phone. The sound had Morgen clamping her thighs together beneath her straight black skirt.

  ‘Not that sort of need. Besides, you’re injured. I wouldn’t want to risk you hurting yourself any more than you’re hurt already.’

  ‘Sweetheart, even talking to you like this is hurting me like you can’t imagine.’

  Morgen imagined, and felt her body grow respondingly hot. ‘If you really need to see me, I’ll leave half an hour early and stop by on my way home. I
can’t be late tonight; I’m taking Neesha swimming.’

  ‘I promise I won’t keep you any longer than necessary. Just to see you for even five minutes would be good…and, Morgen?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Make it soon, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’ She did another doodle of a face, and this time the smile was even wider.

  There was coffee brewing when she arrived, and the delicious aroma filled the flat. Conall waited until Morgen had removed her coat, then insisted she sat down next to him on the sofa. She noticed that he’d shaved and was wearing cologne. It drifted under her nostrils every now and then, tying her senses into a straitjacket.

  ‘Everything okay at the office?’ he enquired.

  Morgen nodded, trying desperately hard not to notice how long and fine his eyelashes were. ‘Everything’s fine. Nothing urgent to report.’

  He’d obviously turned up the heating in the room, because it was almost too warm. The fact that the warmth might have more to do with Conall’s well-muscled jean-clad thigh pressing up close to hers, she didn’t dare dwell on. As it was, she was having trouble thinking straight around him.

  ‘Are you still hurting?’

  It was only when his blue eyes turned smokily dark that Morgen realised how easily her innocent enquiry could be misconstrued.

  ‘Are you prepared for me to answer that?’ His fingers trailed down the lapel of her jacket and slid deftly onto her silk blouse underneath, a mere half-inch from the swell of her breast.

  ‘You’ve made some coffee. Shall I get us both a cup?’ Jumping to her feet, Morgen escaped into the kitchen before he could answer. He followed her there, as she’d guessed he would.

  ‘Don’t you want me to touch you?’ His handsome face was scowling, and there was frustration in his eyes. Morgen’s blood slowed and thickened at the knowledge. Sweeping her gaze down his shirt, to the evidence of the white bandages wrapped around that wide muscular chest of his, she once again felt her heart squeeze at the idea he might really be hurting.

  ‘Seriously, Conall, you need to be concentrating on taking care of your wounds, not worrying about whether I want you to touch me or n-not.’ Blushing furiously, she turned away to pour the coffee into two mugs that were on the counter side by side in readiness. But she never got as far as reaching for the coffeepot.

  Sure-footed, Conall stole up behind her, his warm breath teasing her hair. As Morgen tensed he deliberately anchored his hands either side of her hips, then nuzzled into the side of her neck with his lips. Morgen sagged against him at the contact—convinced she would surely melt into a puddle at his feet if he kept on touching her so intimately. Her limbs feeling like cooked spaghetti, she released a shaky sigh and let her head fall back against his chest.

  ‘Ow!’ His sudden groan told her he wasn’t crying out in ecstasy. Mortified, she swung round to see him ruefully shaking his head, his hand lying cautiously against his chest.

  ‘I hurt you! Oh, Conall, I’m sorry. I should have been more careful!’

  ‘Shut up and kiss me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  Careful not to pull her close into his chest, Conall captured Morgen’s face between his hands, then precisely and expertly lowered his mouth to hers. He’d anticipated her taste and her heat all day, had fantasised about it stretched out on the sofa until he’d had to get up and pace the room to calm himself down. But nothing could prepare him for the blinding sensuality of their kiss. Her response astounded and aroused him, making him lean deeper into the kiss, his tongue swirling around hers, his teeth nipping at her deliciously damp plump lower lip until he was so turned on he knew he had to call a halt before events overtook him. Reluctantly he disengaged contact, ruefully putting at least three feet of chequered vinyl flooring between them.

  ‘They should prescribe you on the National Health. I can’t tell you how much better I’m feeling after that.’

  Her green eyes bewildered, Morgen stared. ‘Why did you stop?’

  ‘Why did I—? Sweetheart, I want you so badly I could take you right now over the kitchen table, but I don’t suppose either of us would be satisfied with that, do you?’ Gratified to see her blush, and giving a silent cheer that she clearly wanted him as much as he wanted her, Conall smiled. ‘Besides, you’ve got to get back to Neesha. I don’t want you to be late for your daughter. As soon as you can next get your mother to babysit, I want you to come over and stay the night with me. Cracked ribs or no cracked ribs—it won’t stop me making love to you.’

  ‘Won’t it?’ Her breathing still a little laboured, and frustration eating into her bones, Morgen couldn’t disguise the longing in her eyes.

  ‘There are always ways and means. I’ll while away the lonely hours dreaming some up.’

  ‘Okay.’

  She gave him a sweet smile, and her heart swelled with joy. The fact that in the middle of their passionate embrace Conall had stopped to think about Neesha made him rise tenfold in her estimation. Maybe there was hope for a relationship between them after all? She would nurture that hope like a fledgling seed that needed water and sun to bring it to life, and for once she would try not to be cynical about the possibility of success.

  ‘I’ll pour us some coffee. What are you doing about food tonight? I don’t have time to cook you anything, but I could order you a take-away.’

  ‘I’ve got it covered. My mother’s coming over to cook me one of her specials. What can I tell you? She loves to cook.’ And would spoil him rotten if he let her. For once Conall didn’t feel irked at the thought.

  ‘She sounds like a nice woman.’

  ‘She is. Perhaps I’ll introduce you some time soon?’

  Morgen guessed how that would go. She captured the thought before it ran away with her down old roads paved with heartache.

  ‘Hmm.’

  Watching him walk away back into the living room, Morgen poured the coffee and tried to convince herself that Conall’s mother would be nothing like the Vaughan-Smiths.

  ‘He seems like a very nice young man,’ Lorna McKenzie said approvingly as she sat down at the table to join her daughter and granddaughter for dinner. ‘I’ll be happy for Neesha to stay over Saturday night, so you can go out on a date. It’ll be good for you to have some free time to yourself.’

  ‘Nana said we can make a chocolate cake for tea. Shall I save you some, Mummy?’ Glancing up from a forkful of mashed potato, Neesha’s pretty face was hopeful.

  ‘You’d better, or else there’ll be big trouble! You know it’s my favourite.’

  ‘Is it Conall you’re going on a date with, Mummy?’ the little girl wanted to know.

  Feeling both sets of eyes from across the table settle on her with great interest, Morgen glanced from Neesha to her mother and back again. ‘Yes. It is Conall I’m going on a date with.’

  Dinner, then back to his sister’s flat in Highgate to stay the night. Her stomach clenched tight at the thought.

  ‘Good. I’ll save him some chocolate cake too.’

  Morgen felt her shoulders sag with relief. At least Neesha had not put up a protest about her mother going on a date with a man, and at least she had met Conall and seemed to like him.

  Early days, Morgen…one step at a time, remember? The little voice inside that was always with her warned her to proceed with caution. Just because Conall seemed perfectly serious about them seeing each other that didn’t mean that they were going to have a storybook ending. In a few days’ time he was going to have to make that trip of his back to New York, for closure on his business there, and a few days could be a long time when a man was back on familiar territory, with all the same temptations that had been part of his life there before.

  ‘Eat up, Morgen. Your dinner will get cold.’ From across the table Lorna McKenzie’s eyes narrowed at the pensive expression on her daughter’s face. He seemed like a good man, this Conall O’Brien—even if she had met him only briefly. But then Simon had seemed like a good man too,
and look how wrong she had been about him.

  Staring at the plans on the drawing board in front of him, Conall made a slight adjustment to an area that had been particularly bothering him. Satisfied his correction was a distinct improvement, he stood back a little to get some perspective on it. A smarting pain in the area of his right shoulder just then made him wince a little, and he rotated his arm a couple of times in a bid to ease it.

  His ribs were healing nicely, if still a little sore, but it was the gash on his shoulder that seemed to cause him the most discomfort. Every time it ached he was reminded how foolish he’d been to climb that scaffolding with ordinary shoes on, and in the mud too. It really wasn’t like him to be so careless, but then his thoughts had been totally preoccupied with Morgen instead of on the job in hand.

  The thought of her now made him realise that he wasn’t looking forward to returning to New York at all. If someone else could have gone instead of him he would have arranged it like a shot. But Conall had business there only he could sort out, as well as an apartment he rented that he needed to return the keys on, and friends he obviously needed to say goodbye to. He’d already decided that when Derek Holden was back in the fray—providing, of course, that he’d got a grip on his addiction to drink—he was going to send him out to the New York office and a new life. It was probably just the challenge the man needed. At least it would help take his mind off all the problems he’d had at home.

  And as soon as he himself got back from the States he was going to look seriously into buying a house—a house he hoped that eventually Morgen and Neesha would come to share with him. But first he had to convince the lady that he was in earnest.

  ‘Conall?’

  Suddenly she was there, and Conall felt the ache in his shoulder miraculously recede.