“You’re very good at that, you know,” he commented with a wry grin.
“What, cheese on toast?” she answered flippantly, presenting her back to him as she bent to lift the tray of toasted golden goodness from the oven. Faye began piling the cheese toast slices onto a plate on his tray, taking only two small bits for herself.
No wonder she was so slender. She barely ate enough to keep a bird alive.
“I meant your ability to avoid answering my questions.”
“Did you want cream in your soup?”
And there she went again. She was so much better at this than him, but he was nothing if not tenacious.
“Faye, tell me. Are you scared of babies?”
She sighed heavily and looked up from ladling out the steaming, hot soup into bowls.
“No. Did you want cream or not?”
He acceded. “Fine, whatever.”
As with everything Faye did, she paid meticulous attention to presentation, and he watched with amusement as she swirled cream into his bowl and then, using a skewer like some kind of soup barista, created a snowflake pattern in the cream before sprinkling a little chopped parsley on top and setting the bowl on his tray.
“That’s cute. Where did you learn to do that?”
“Nowhere special,” she said softly. But then a stricken expression crossed her face and she seemed to draw herself together even tighter. Her voice, when she spoke, held a slight tremor. “Actually, that’s not true. I learned it as a kid.”
She bit her lower lip, as if she’d realized she’d suddenly said too much.
Piers pressed home with another more pointed question. “From your mom?”
She gave a brief, jerky nod of her head.
Piers sensed the memory had pained her and regretted having pushed her for a response. But he knew, better than most people realized, that sometimes you had to endure the pain before you could reap the rewards. Oh, sure, he’d been born into a life of entitlement and with more money at his disposal while he was growing up than any child should ever have. Most people thought he had no idea as to the meaning of suffering or being without—and maybe, on their scale, he didn’t. Yet, despite all of the advantages his life had afforded him, he knew what emptiness felt like, and right now he could see a yawning emptiness in his PA’s eyes that urged him to do something to fill it.
But how could a man who had everything, and yet nothing at the same time, offer help to someone who kept everyone beyond arms’ length?
Something hanging from the light fitting above Faye’s head caught his eye. Mistletoe. Before he knew it, Piers was rising and taking her in his arms. Then he did the one thing he knew he did better than any man on earth. He kissed her.
Four
Shock rippled through her mind, followed very closely by something else. Something that offered a thrill of enticement, a promise of pleasure. Piers’s lips were warm and firm, and the pressure of them against hers was gentle, coaxing.
Even though her mind argued that this was wrong on so many levels, a piece of her—deep down inside—unfurled in the unexpected warmth and comfort his kiss offered. Comfort, yes, and another promise layered beneath it. One that told her that she decided what happened next. That she could take this wherever she wanted to.
In her bid to protect herself from further emotional pain, she’d always kept her distance from people. She knew how much it hurt to lose the ones you loved—how it had torn her apart and left her a devastated shell. How her attempts to fill that emptiness had only left her hurting all over again. How she’d shored up her personal walls until nothing and no one could get back inside into the deepest recesses of her heart ever again. And yet, here she was, being kissed by the man she worked for and feeling emotions she’d been hiding from for years. Wanting more. It was exhilarating and terrifying in equal proportions.
Even as Faye’s mind protested, her body reacted. Her heart rate kicked up a beat. An ember of desire flickered to molten life at her core. Oh, sure, she’d been kissed before, but nothing in her limited experience had prepared her for this onslaught of need and heat and confusion.
Finally her mind overruled her body, reminding her that this was not just any man in any situation. This was her boss. In his house. With a baby in the next room.
Faye put a hand against Piers’s chest, her palm tingling at the heat that radiated from behind his shirt—at the firmly muscled contours that lay beneath the finely woven linen. Her fingers curled into the fabric, ever so briefly, before she flattened her palm and pushed against him.
To his credit, he reacted immediately—stepping back with a slightly stunned expression in his eyes for a moment before it was masked. If she hadn’t seen that brief glimpse in his eyes, seen the shock that had briefly mirrored her own reflected there, she would have believed the good-guy smile that now curved those wicked lips and seemed to say that the kiss had been no big deal.
Faye fought to calm her rapidly beating heart—to not betray even an inkling of the chaos that rattled through her mind over what had just happened. She bent her head to avoid looking at him, to avoid betraying just how much she’d enjoyed that kiss. She took in a deep breath and chose her words very deliberately.
“If you want me to continue to work for you, that had better be the last time you ever do something like that to me,” she said in a voice that was surprisingly even. “Here, your tray is ready.”
She picked up the tray with his supper and handed it to him, then turned away to finish preparing her own.
“Faye, I—”
“Really, there’s no need to rehash it. Or apologize, if that’s what you were thinking. Let’s just drop it, hmm?”
“For the record, I do want you to keep working for me.”
“Good, then there won’t be a repeat of that, then.”
“Was it so awful?” he asked, a glimmer of uncertainty flickering briefly in his dark brown eyes.
“I thought we agreed not to rehash it.”
“Actually we didn’t agree on anything. But, fine, if you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t talk about it.”
Had she offended him? That hadn’t been her intention...but if it meant he wouldn’t do something as insane as try to kiss her again, that was a very good thing. Wasn’t it? Of course it was. And he wasn’t the kind of guy to carry a grudge. It was one of things she’d always admired about him.
Faye finished fussing over her tray and checked that the stove was turned off.
“Let me take that for you,” Piers said, easily balancing his tray on one hand while sliding hers off the countertop with his other. “You can lead the way with the flashlight.”
He was laughing at her. Oh, not in any obvious way, but she sensed the humor that hovered beneath the surface of his smooth demeanor. What she’d said had actually amused him rather than offended him, she was certain.
Determined to avoid too much further interaction, she decided the best course of action was to do as he’d suggested rather than fight over her tray. It wasn’t as if they had far to walk, and if she chose one of the deep armchairs to sit in by the fire she wouldn’t have to sit next to him.
By the time she was settled in the chair, with her tray on her lap, she was back to thinking about that kiss and the man who’d chosen the seat opposite her.
The glow of the fireplace cast golden flickers of light and contrasting shadows across his face, highlighting the hollows beneath his cheekbones and the set of his firm jaw. He’d lost some weight this past year, since the death of his twin. She was shocked to realize she hadn’t noticed until now. She’d been too busy avoiding letting her eyes linger on any part of him. In simply taking instructions, preempting others and basically just doing her job to the best of her ability. For a personal assistant, though, she’d hadn’t paid much attention to the actual per
sonal side of Piers Luckman.
Oh, sure, she’d organized his social calendar, ensured none of his engagements clashed, seen off unwelcome interest from women who saw him as a short road to a comfortable future and, more recently, forwarded his farewell gift to the girlfriend who’d stuck longer than so many others.
But even though she’d done most of the coordination for Quin Luckman’s funeral, she hadn’t offered more than the usual cursory expression of sympathy to his twin. How had it felt for him, losing that half of himself that had been there from conception? She’d been so locked under her own carapace of protection that she’d rendered herself immune to his grief once the initial shock of Quin’s death had blunted.
And why on earth was she even worrying about it? It wasn’t as if he was about to lay his sorrow at her feet now that he’d kissed her. Without thinking, she pressed her lips together, catching her lower lip between her teeth in an unconscious effort to relive the pressure of his lips on hers. The clatter of a spoon on an empty bowl dragged her attention back to the man sitting opposite and a flush of embarrassment swept across her cheeks.
“That was good. Remind me to thank Meredith for having the foresight to lay in such tasty supplies.”
“I’ll do that,” Faye said, reaching automatically for the small tablet that she kept in her bag to note his command immediately.
“Faye, I’m kidding. You’re off the clock, remember?”
His voice held that note of humor again and it made the back of her neck prickle. She looked him squarely in the eye.
“You don’t pay me to be off the clock. Besides, I’ll just call this overtime.”
Piers sighed, a thread of frustration clear in the huff of air he expelled. “You can relax, Faye. On or off the clock, I’m glad you’re here.”
He cast a glance at the sleeping baby and even with the shadows she could see the concern that played across his features. She felt compelled to reassure him.
“He’ll be fine, you know. You’re doing a good job with him so far.”
“I can’t help feeling sorry for him. His mother abandoning him. His father gone.” Piers’s voice broke on the last word. “I miss Quin so much, you know? I kind of feel that having Casey here is giving me another chance.”
“Another chance?” Faye asked gently when he lapsed into silence.
“At a real family.”
“You have your parents,” she pointed out pragmatically, “and I know you have extended family, as well. They’re all quite real.”
“And yet, for as long as I can remember, I always felt like Quin and I only had each other.”
Faye shifted uncomfortably on her chair. This was getting altogether too personal for comfort. Piers had never really talked about his family at great length. She’d always privately envied him that they, until Quin’s sudden death, were all still there for him. But were they really?
When she thought back, her dealings with his parents and other relatives had hinged around what Piers could do for them, never the other way around. Even thinking about his annual house party here, Piers had always instructed her on what gifts to ensure were under the tree for whom. But, aside from his great-aunt Florence’s questionable Christmas sweaters, had Faye ever heard of anyone bringing him a gift in return?
“I’m sorry,” she said for lack of anything else to say to fill the sudden silence that fell between them.
“This little one isn’t going to grow up alone. I will always be there for him.”
“You don’t even know for sure he’s your brother’s child,” Faye protested.
“It fits. You know what Quin was like. I’m only sorry I didn’t know about Casey sooner—then I could have helped his mom more.”
Faye saw his shoulders rise and fall on a deep sigh. There was a resoluteness to his voice when he spoke again.
“She needed help and Quin couldn’t be there for her. I’ll find her, Faye. I’ll make sure she’s okay before going any further with Casey but I want to offer him the kind of life he deserves.”
Piers’s words made something twist deep in Faye’s chest. Made her see another side of him that was all too appealing. It was the baby, it had to be. After her infant brother’s death thirteen years ago she’d spent some time subconsciously trying to fill that gaping hole in her life. Tried and failed and learned the hard way to inure herself to getting involved, to forming an emotional bond. And here she was, stranded with a man who appealed to her on so many levels—despite her best efforts to keep her reactions under control—and a helpless infant who called on those old instincts she thought she’d suppressed.
Faye rose to take their trays back to the kitchen.
“Here, let me do that. You cooked.”
She swiftly maneuvered out of reach. “I hardly would call reheating soup and making grilled cheese on toast cooking. Besides, he’s waking up. You’ll need to check his diaper.”
“Again?”
“Yup,” she said and, with her flashlight balanced on a tray to light her way forward, she made her way to the kitchen.
* * *
Piers watched her go before turning his attention to his charge. He was determined to get to the root of why she was so unwavering about having nothing to do with the baby.
“I can’t see the problem, can you?” he said softly to the little boy who was now looking up at him and kicking his legs under the blanket.
But maybe it wasn’t the baby she was avoiding now. Maybe it was just him. At first, he could have sworn she was reacting favorably to that kiss he’d given her under the mistletoe. Hell, favorably? She’d been melting under his touch, but that had been nothing compared to how their brief embrace had made him feel. Even now, thinking about it, it still had the power to leave him feeling a little stunned.
He’d kissed a fair few women in his time but, so far, none had moved him the way that simple touch had. The sensations that had struck him from the minute his lips touched hers were electric—curious and demanding at the same time. He’d had to hold back, had to force himself not to pull her hard against the length of his body. Had to fight every instinct inside him to keep the kiss simple, light, when what she’d awakened in him demanded so much more.
“Who would have known?” he said under his breath and lifting Casey in his arms. “Just one kiss, eh? What do we do now?”
What had he unleashed in himself with that embrace? He’d been trying to distract her. Her face, always composed and serene even in the most trying circumstances in the office, had looked stricken. His instinct had been to divert her thoughts, perhaps even to provide comfort. Instead he’d ticked her off—probably just as effective at distracting her, even if it didn’t quite lend itself to them repeating the exercise, as much as he wanted to.
Did he pursue it further when she’d made it categorically clear that she wanted no further intimacy between them? He wasn’t the kind of man who gave up when he reached the first obstacle, but there was a lot riding on this. Faye was the best assistant he’d ever had. Her very aloofness had been instrumental in keeping his mind focused on the job and his busy workdays on an even keel. Her ability to anticipate his needs was second to none. In fact, sometimes he felt like she knew him better than he knew himself.
He’d found her attractive from the get-go. From the interview selection process right through to the day she’d started she’d intrigued him, but he’d respected the boundaries they’d had between them as boss and employee. Boundaries he himself had insisted on after his last two assistants—one male and one female—had complicated things by declaring their love for him. He’d worked with Faye for three years now. He respected her, relied on her and trusted her. But now that he’d kissed her... Well, it had opened the door on something else entirely.
For all her cool and inscrutable manner at work, she’d been different here from the moment
he’d arrived. Maybe it was because it was the first time he’d seen her in anything other than her usual neatly practical and understated office attire. He had to admit, despite the horrible sweater he’d forced on her, the sight of her in his clothing appealed to him on an instinctive level, as if by her being dressed in something of his she’d become more accessible to him. As if, somehow, she belonged to him.
And she had, for that brief moment. They’d connected both physically and, he liked to think, on some emotional plane, as well. He’d felt the curiosity in her response, the interest. Right up until that moment she’d pushed him away, she’d been as invested in their kiss as he had been.
“I’m not dreaming, am I?” he said to the baby in his arms.
Casey looked at him with solemn dark eyes and then his little mouth curled into a gummy grin.
“Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to see if dreams really can come true,” Piers said with an answering smile of his own.
He’d have to approach this carefully. The last thing he wanted was for Faye to actually turn around and quit. But surely he could push things forward without pushing her to that extreme. He was a resourceful kind of guy. He’d think of something. He wasn’t afraid of hard work. Not when something was important, and he had the strongest feeling that Faye had the potential to be far more important to him than she already was. And, he realized with a sense of recognition that felt as if it came from deep at his center, he wanted to be equally as important to her, too. If only she’d let him.
When Faye returned to the main room he stood with Casey and held him out to her. She looked as if she was going to instinctively put her hands out to take him, but then she took a step back.
“What are you doing?” she asked warily.
“Handing him to you. He doesn’t bite. He hasn’t even got teeth. It’s not like he’ll gum you to death.”
Faye rolled her eyes in obvious exasperation. “I know he doesn’t bite, but why would I hold him?”
“I need to check on the generator, see if we can get some power running.”
The Christmas Baby Bonus Page 5