by Susan Meier
As she said the last, Molly stretched to her tiptoes, and her lips began inching to his. When the sentence was complete, she chastely kissed him.
Jack decided to accept the kiss because he didn’t want to jeopardize his plan, but suddenly, and without warning, the pressure of her mouth increased, her arms around his neck thightened, her body pressed against his and she was kissing him in a way that sent blistering heat the whole way to his toes.
As his completely insubordinate body dissolved into six feet, three inches of malleable flesh, Jack understood the term “nuclear meltdown.” Man, but the woman could kiss. He would have never thought that. Hell, he never would have thought any kind of sexual idea about Molly. She was... She was... She was Molly for Pete’s sake. A decent man didn’t have sexual thoughts about a co-worker. It was even more disgraceful to have sexual thoughts about an underling, a woman he supervised. It wasn’t fair. It was inappropriate. It was...
Impossible to resist. Unexpectedly slammed with a particularly potent punch of desire, Jack tunneled his fingers into the hair at her nape and opened his mouth over hers. But before his fingers completely slid through her silken locks and before he’d fully tasted the sweetness of her mouth, his common sense came knocking at the back of his brain.
What the hell was he doing?
He pulled back at the same second she pulled back. But where his expression was a combination of mortification for his own moral lapse, and complete surprise that they had such explosive chemistry, Molly only smiled brightly at him.
“I’m going to put my things away.”
“Good idea,” Jack said, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Surprise had him in a mortal grip. Molly was sweet. She was quiet. She was sensible. She wasn’t supposed to kiss like that, but now that Jack knew that she could—and did—he also knew he’d never be able to look at her in the same way again. He wondered if he’d even be able to be in the same room with her without thinking of that wonderful, passionate, mind-numbing kiss.
Molly strode to the bed where Jack had placed her suitcase, and Jack drew a long breath. He was a professional. There was no decision to make here, no problem. He had to be able to handle being around Molly for as long as the two of them continued to work together. And, by God, he would.
“Oh,” Molly said, but it came out as a shocked sigh. “What did you do? Hide all my lingerie at my old apartment? Good Lord, if I hadn’t caught on to your little trick, I wouldn’t even have been able to shower tonight! Shame on you.”
“I’m sorry,” Jack said, watching her eyes, hoping against hope that he’d see recognition dawn in their hazel depths, as Molly rifled through her things.
“Hey,” she cried, quickly glancing over at him. “Hey, wait a minute!”
“Yes?” Jack asked expectantly.
“It just hit me,” she said, gazing around his bedroom as if seeing it for the first time.
Jack held his breath.
“I didn’t shower this morning. Well for heaven’s sake,” she said, and started unbuttoning her blouse. Making short order of her task, she easily got to the middle button, then she sighed with acceptance. “I remember now. After you sent me back to bed, I slept until about noon. When I got up I fixed myself something to eat, and when I started cleaning up after lunch, I kept cleaning. You know, things were pretty dusty around here. We’re going to have to come up with a better housekeeping schedule.”
By now she was at the bottom button of her blouse. Jack could see a strip of cream-colored lace peeking from behind the fawn silk.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said, inching toward the door. Disappointment and unwanted, unwelcome curiosity simultaneously ricocheted through him. She didn’t remember anything and she wasn’t going to remember anything. And if he didn’t soon get out of here, she’d be completely naked because she was stripping. She honestly, genuinely thought they were married, and married people stripped—in front of each other. Without worry. Without concern. Just like she was doing now.
In spite of the fact that there was a part of him that wanted to know if she really wore the kind of underwear she kept in her drawers, Jack wasn’t unhappy when she turned her back to him. He knew his only recourse was to retreat, but carefully, because Molly now stood between him and his destination.
Slowly, cautiously, he edged to the left, attempting to slip around her. “We probably do need a new housekeeping schedule,” he said, distracting her attention from the fact that he was leaving.
“If the dust was any indicator, we don’t have much choice,” Molly said and, her back to him, took two steps to the left to fling her earrings to the dresser, once again placing herself directly in his path.
“Okay. You’re right,” Jack congenially said. Not one to be easily discouraged, he inched to his right.
But, returning to her original spot after tossing her earrings, Molly inadvertently mimicked his steps. “I didn’t mind the fine powder I found in the living room, but I hate cobwebs.”
Desperate, Jack quickly veered to the right. But even though she couldn’t see him, Molly twisted and placed herself directly in his path.
Jack didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. On the one hand, he’d gotten himself into a fairly preposterous mess, and if this had happened to any of his friends, he’d probably laugh at them. On the other hand, this was a fairly preposterous mess, and if he didn’t soon get them out of it, he and Molly might do some permanent damage to their business relationship. So far, nothing actually bad had happened—unless you counted that one kiss. And Jack didn’t. Yes, it was a wonderful, passionate kiss, but he was a professional and he would forget it.
As long as he could get out of this room.
As he tried to squeak past her, Molly shifted slightly to kick off her shoes and blocked his way.
“Okay, so the way we have it now, you cook and I clean up. I wash laundry and you fold....”
For a few seconds, Jack stood mesmerized, confused that her “memory” was so clear about a life they didn’t have. He didn’t know anything about her parents or what they taught in their self-help tapes, but they must instruct their listeners to be incredibly detailed.
“You vacuum and I dust,” she continued, and reached for the button of her trousers.
Jack’s eyes widened. “Molly, honey,” he urged cautiously. “How about letting me get past you?”
“So, if I’m the one who dusts,” she said, stepping in front of him as if she hadn’t heard him, “then I’m the one who’s negligent here.”
As she said the last, she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her slacks and pulled them down. Because her back was to him and because she still wore her silk blouse, all Jack really saw was her legs. But, if he hadn’t known better, Jack would have thought she’d choreographed the whole scene. Slowly, methodically, she revealed inch after lovely inch of perfect thigh and calf until her trousers were a puddle on the floor and she stepped out of them.
Shaking his head, Jack said, “That’s it, Molly, I have to go...” He paused when she turned and gave him a confused, wounded expression as if his harsh demeanor had injured her. “To the kitchen,” he added, improvising to try and make up for his tone. Then he gripped her shoulders and shifted her enough that she wasn’t blocking the door anymore. “I think something’s burning.”
When he reached the cool kitchen, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. Basically, that was a close one, but he’d handled it. He was out of that bedroom, and tomorrow morning when he got Molly to the office, her memory would snap back to where it was supposed to be. All he had to do was get through the night
Get through the night? What if she expected him to sleep with her? She thought they were married! Of course she was going to expect him to sleep with her.
With a groan he sat on one of the stools at his breakfast bar and buried his face in his hands, trying to think of a way out of that, but before he got his answer, Molly snuck up on him and wrapped her arms around him.
�
�Sweetheart, we have to get to bed early because we both have work in the morning,” she said, then began kissing his neck.
Jack’s body didn’t wait for instructions. Instead, it took on a life of its own, leaving his conscience behind. If he had been alone, he would have cursed it. But he wasn’t alone, so he couldn’t. He also knew he couldn’t get out of sleeping with her—unless he wanted to hurt her. Realistically he could start an argument with her, pretend to be angry or make her angry, and then he could sleep on the couch again. Unfortunately, a picture of her sad, wounded expression sprung up before him and he knew he couldn’t put her through that again. Simultaneously, however, he also realized there was no way in hell he could spend a night in the same bed with this woman—not when she thought they were married.
He turned in her arms. “Molly, are you sure it’s such a good idea for us to sleep together tonight?”
She smiled at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, you got a pretty nasty bump on the head yesterday and Dr. Tim doesn’t want you doing anything physical.”
To his utter amazement, she burst into giggles. “What has gotten into you lately? You have never been shy around me before. Why can’t you come right out and say we can’t have sex tonight?”
He cleared his throat. Embarrassment flooded through him. He’d never spoken so brazenly to an employee before. “All right. We can’t have sex tonight. Dr. Tim doesn’t think it would be a good idea.”
Clicking her tongue in reprimand, she bent forward, framed his face with her hands and kissed him. When she pulled back, she clicked her tongue again. “My mother always taught me that anything a married man and woman chose to do in the privacy of their own bedroom is perfectly acceptable. I hope the reason Dr. Tim put this restriction on us isn’t because you explained how ‘physical’ we get when we get physical.”
Her lips curved seductively, Molly looked him in the eye. Jack swallowed hard. How physical we get when we get physical? he thought, and swallowed again. If he’d wondered before about how detailed her fantasies had been, Jack knew that had been peanuts compared to how he was wondering now.
In less than twenty-four hours, Molly had taken herself from being his nice, sweet, safe copywriter and had entered the world of seductress.
And he still had to get through the night with her.
Fat chance.
“Okay, Molly, since we’re being up-front here, I’ll admit Dr. Tim doesn’t want me sleeping with you because he doesn’t want me to risk bumping you and hurting you any more than you were hurt last night.”
It was a lie, pure, plain and simple, but it was a lie with a purpose. She’d never forgive herself or him if she woke up with her memory tomorrow morning and found him beside her under the covers.
“So I sleep on the couch again.”
Chapter Five
Jack drew a quiet, fearful breath as they pulled into the parking lot of Barrington Corporation. Molly had chattered nonstop on the way to work, but Jack hadn’t focused on what she’d said. He was too darned afraid she wasn’t going to get her memory back until after she’d told half the employees that they were married.
Still, he didn’t have a choice but to take her inside. She needed to be around familiar people and things. And she needed to see him in his proper role. Dr. Tim hadn’t told him that, but Jack more or less figured that out on his own. He truly believed that once Molly saw him as her real boss, not her pretend husband, all this would fall into place for her.
Like a genuine married woman, she didn’t wait for him to open her car door. Instead, she jumped out and met him in front of the vehicle. They walked toward the main entrance together, smiling and waving at employees from other departments as everyone headed for various entrances to the building.
As he and Molly strode down the main corridor to the elevator, Jack felt as if all eyes were on them. But even if people were noticing, most would only think Jack had given Molly a ride to work. A few said hello. One or two waved. A couple stopped to wait with them for the elevator.
For the most part, the only conversation was a mumbled greeting when a new person joined the waiting group. The elevator arrived. Everyone stepped in. The doors closed and the small box jerked to life.
For two floors, no one uttered a sound. They were like zombies without their morning coffee—which, Jack knew, was fairly typical—and very good news for him. But once he got over the fear that Molly was going to say something she shouldn’t, or someone was going to observe something odd, Jack realized that the most important thing hadn’t happened. Molly hadn’t gotten her memory back. She hadn’t said anything, but, then again, she didn’t have to. If she were remembering, or even if her memory were merely being stimulated, her eyes would be clouded with confusion. Instead, her eyes still held that happy sparkle and her face virtually glowed.
Jack scowled. The elevator bell rang, indicating their floor, and, without thinking, he took Molly’s elbow and led her into the corridor. When he recognized what he’d inadvertently done, he dropped her arm like a hot potato.
“What is wrong with you this morning?” Molly whispered.
Glad for her discretion, though somewhat confused by it, Jack glanced at her. “I’m just tired.”
“No one told you to sleep on the couch,” Molly reminded him quietly.
“I believe Dr. Tim told me.”
“Well, I’ll make it up to you tonight,” Molly said, then raised herself to her tiptoes and kissed his cheek before she pivoted and walked into her office.
Jack felt his face turn fire-engine red. Mortified, he quickly looked around, but the only person who appeared to have seen was Sandy Johnson, the department secretary.
“She was thanking me for the ride into work,” Jack said, then strode toward his office, not about to let the blue-eyed, brown-haired romantic draw her own conclusions. “I don’t want any calls this morning. Not one,” he added as he walked through the door, which he slammed. He didn’t know why he was so irritable. Truthfully, he didn’t care if the other employees gossiped about him. And he did want Molly to get her memory back, so she needed to be here to get stimulated. So why the hell did he feel that leaving Molly alone in her office was the biggest mistake of his life?
Because it was! Jack realized, all his nerve endings jumping. He stashed his briefcase in his closet and ran to the door again. He might want her to get her memory back, but that didn’t mean he was abandoning all this to chance. At the very least, he was doing some damage control.
After ripping open his office door, Jack dashed down the hall again, but when he reached Molly’s office, he was surprised to find that she had her door closed. Through the glass pane of the top half of the door, he could see Molly working diligently, her head bent low as she tallied figures.
Like a parent peeking in on his newborn child and discovering she was content, Jack breathed a sigh of relief and tiptoed away, back to his own office.
When he passed her, Sandy raised an eyebrow in question.
He smiled at her. “Molly’s feeling a little under the weather. I was checking on her.”
Sandy smiled, but she gave Jack a look as if to say she didn’t believe him. Jack merely stepped into his office, closing the dark wood double doors behind him.
He was far, far too old for this.
“So how do you feel?”
Molly glanced up from her computer screen. “I feel fine,” she said, sounding confused. “And I think it’s time you and everyone else stopped asking me. I’m starting to think Dr. Tim told you I was going to die in two days or something. He didn’t tell you that, did he?”
“No, no,” Jack said, leaning his hip on her desk, getting comfortable. “Really, he said you’re terrific. He also said the day at work would be good for yon. Did you have a good day?” he asked, knowing that each and every one of her friends had been up to call on her to try to prod her memory as he had instructed them.
“Jack, the day is only half over.”
“I know that, but I’m just checking to see if you’re...you know, finding anything that helps your....” Remember we’re not married. He almost said it. He’d spent the entire morning alternately pacing his office and peeking toward hers, but Molly had closed her door, parked herself on her chair and hadn’t moved all morning. Except for the visitors he’d sent in to attempt to nudge her memory, no one had bothered her.
For every bit as much as he’d prayed someone unusual would pop in on her and say something that would make her remember her real life, be also prayed no one would visit her so she couldn’t tell yet another person she believed them to be married and drag yet another innocent bystander into this charade.
“Helps me what?” Molly, asked, staring at him. “Helps me plow through these demographics any more quickly? Frankly, no. Jack, I’ve told you a hundred times I don’t like to rush these. This is one area I excel at so I think we’re better off to take my opinion than yours—even though you are the boss.”
“You’re right,” Jack said, discouraged because she’d dashed one of his big hopes. Basically she told him that she knew he was her boss, but that hadn’t jarred her memory. The drive to work hadn’t jarred her memory. Her office hadn’t jarred her memory. Seeing her co-workers hadn’t jarred her memory. And now obviously seeing their respective roles at the office hadn’t jarred her memory.
As far as he was concerned, this experiment had failed.
“Then what are you driving at?” she asked, but a sort of understanding dawned. He could see it in her facial expression. “Oh, I remember. It’s my turn to buy lunch,” she said, rising from her seat and grabbing her purse. “I forgot we had that little tradition where I buy lunch every other day. Since you bought on Wednesday and I wasn’t here Thursday, that makes today my turn. Okay, let’s go.”
The fact that she had such vivid, detailed recollections of things they always “did” confused Jack so much, his brow furrowed. He didn’t picture Molly to be much of a daydreamer, but then again he hadn’t thought she’d be such a terrific kisser, either. If Molly was surprising him. Jack decided she was doing it in spades. He couldn’t believe he’d paid so little attention to her that he really didn’t know her at all.