Her Millionaire Boss

by Jennie Adams

  He wanted his grandfather to be happy, and didn’t know how to make that possible. ‘I shouldn’t have talked to him yet. It could have waited. I should have held off until I had a better plan about approaching him.’

  ‘How did Henry take it?’ She took a step toward him.

  ‘He told me he would be back at work in no time and refused to discuss it further.’

  She winced. ‘Is he all right? He didn’t get too upset?’

  ‘Nothing to set his blood pressure off or anything.’ His lips formed a wry line. ‘I think I’m still recovering, though.’

  ‘I’m sorry I refused to see the need for this sooner.’ She shook her head. ‘It will be the end of an era when he stops working there. That scares me. Montbank Shipping is all I’ve known since I left school, and Henry’s been…kind to me.’

  ‘Don’t blame yourself for not wanting it to end.’ Nate certainly didn’t blame her. How could he blame her for anything? She had been there for Henry while he was on the other side of the world, telling himself he was happy moving around, never putting down roots.

  That old life didn’t look so appealing now.

  ‘Careful.’ She injected a playful note into her tone and reached for his hands in a chummy sort of gesture. ‘If you don’t watch it, you’ll end up being all nice and sweet and stuff.’

  ‘We can’t have that.’ He drawled the words, but his attention was on their clasped hands. What had started as a simple, friendly gesture turned immediately to something more.

  And it felt so right. So damned right to connect with her in a world that was all going wrong. He looked into the lovely eyes that were all his to see, because she hadn’t replaced her glasses since she got here.

  Did she realise she had failed to put them on? To put up that flimsy barrier that seemed to mean so much to her? ‘Chrissy, I—’

  ‘Henry loves you.’ She squeezed his hands, her face as open and generous as her words. ‘He’ll come to understand that you’re only trying to act in his best interests. He won’t resent you once he realises this is best for him.’

  Was she so keen to see him go, then? But the sadness in the backs of her eyes told him she was being brave for Henry’s sake. Was trying to accept what had to be done.

  I don’t want to leave you. He stopped the thought before it could find voice.

  ‘Things have been difficult since he remarried.’

  ‘Yes.’ She half smiled, then shook her head. ‘What really went on, Nate? Between you and Margaret? I don’t mean that I think you had an affair, but what—?’

  ‘I’ve never spoken of it.’ He hesitated, then his mouth firmed with decision. ‘But I want you to know. I don’t want you to go on thinking—’

  ‘If it’s too personal—’

  ‘It is personal, particularly to Henry, but I know I can trust you with it. I’d been away on vacation. I met Margaret for the first time at the wedding reception.’ His mouth twisted in memory of what had at first seemed to be some sort of misconception on his part. Maybe Margaret was just really friendly and he was reading into it or something? ‘Margaret started stalking me there, wouldn’t leave me alone.

  ‘They didn’t have a honeymoon. I wanted to move out of the house, but it’s a big place. Henry wanted me to stay and I figured I could keep out of their way for a few days until I found an apartment. It all happened very suddenly.’

  ‘Nate, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.’ She fidgeted with her hands.

  ‘I’m glad you did.’ He realised it was true. ‘When I realised Margaret wasn’t just fooling around or being overly friendly with her overtures toward me, I told her to back off.’ His mouth tightened. ‘There was no way she could have misunderstood, yet less than twenty-four hours later I found her waiting naked in my bed. I left. I didn’t want Henry to know what she’d done.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ She seemed almost hurt. ‘Earlier, when I accused you, you could have told me what really happened.’

  ‘Like you told me about the crossword? Protecting Henry from the truth had become too much of a habit. But I don’t want you to go on thinking I simply walked away from him on a whim.’ He groaned in frustration, turned his back on her to gaze sightlessly into the tiny kitchenette.

  ‘I left to protect him. My staying there was unhealthy for him. I had to leave so he could have his chance. He wanted Margaret. I don’t know why, but he did.’

  She stepped forward. Touched the back of his hand with slender fingers for just a moment. ‘Thank you for telling me. I resented you for so long, and that was wrong of me. I’m…I’m sorry. And…I understand now. When will you leave?’

  ‘I won’t leave until I know you’re safe from harm.’ He didn’t want to go at all. ‘About us—’

  ‘Nate.’ She cut him off. ‘There is no us. We just both have to remember that until you’re gone.’

  Footsteps sounded outside and Bella’s familiar series of knocks rapped on the door.

  Chrissy got to her feet. ‘That’s my sister. I’ll explain things. There’s no need for you to stay any longer.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘IT SEEMS our precautions have worked.’ A week had passed since the threat to Nate’s safety. Now they were celebrating the passing of another year for Montbank Shipping. Chrissy wanted to celebrate, but it would be easier if she wasn’t so aware of the man at her side. She swallowed hard. ‘I think everything might be OK now. That there won’t be any further threat to the company.’

  To your safety.

  ‘Let’s hope so.’ Nate lifted the bottle of chardonnay and refilled their glasses. ‘Here’s to that hope.’

  For a moment, she caught a glimpse of fire in his eyes. Then he lowered his gaze, and clinked his glass to hers.

  Had she imagined it? Before she could decide, Nate turned to the others seated at their table. Lifted his glass and raised his voice. ‘To Montbank’s, and to all of you.’

  A round of hear-hears echoed as people touched glasses. It was a good night, or at least—it was good to feel safe after living on edge for days. Good to feel that Nate was safe. She just wished she didn’t yearn for him so. Didn’t crave him in a way she couldn’t seem to control, despite reminding herself that a relationship between them wouldn’t work.

  He hadn’t changed. Neither had she. She lowered her gaze to her plate and toyed with the napkin in her lap. At least things really did seem to be better on the work front, although Henry still wouldn’t talk about being replaced.

  Nate had enlisted the help of the stevedore’s leader in seeking some answers at the docks without raising further suspicion. He had also asked the investigators to examine the records at Montbank’s itself, and Chrissy had done all she could to accommodate them.

  She should have been pleased, but was beginning to wonder if it was a mistake to push Nate away. Why not take what she could get on his terms? Even if those terms were so much less than she might choose. Her heart longed for something…

  ‘Why so pensive?’ His hand touched hers where it rested in her lap. He drew back just quickly enough to make her wonder if the touch had seared his senses as it had hers. ‘We’ve done what we can. Hopefully our stevedore will come through with some answers eventually.’

  ‘Hopefully, yes.’ Her pulse accelerated in reaction to his touch. Awareness held her fast, but so, too, did uncertainty.

  What was he thinking and feeling right now? ‘That is a good thing, and we’ll work out what’s going on with our Montbank accounting.’

  She did her best to converse easily while her thoughts churned. At least they would probably resolve their work issues. Eventually. Recalling her visit to Henry earlier tonight, she sighed. ‘Henry still has those files I couriered to him, though. I did ask again, but he was a bit cranky.’

  ‘I’ll collect the files the next time I’m over there. At least, I’ll try to diplomatically do that.’ His low tone was too intimate for her comfort. He leaned closer to her and her heart stumbled. Then he gestu
red toward her plate, as though nothing had happened. ‘How’s your meal?’

  ‘Nice.’ She suppressed a sigh, dipped another piece of baby broccoli in the lemon sauce and popped it into her mouth. I want you so much, Nate, and I want to know if you’re feeling the same way.

  His gaze followed the movement of her throat as she chewed and swallowed. ‘I, ah…’ He cleared his throat, then gestured toward her. ‘Where did you get the dress? It’s…rather revealing, don’t you think?’

  ‘Bella made the dress for me.’ It wasn’t too revealing. A shiver of pleasure passed through her at the knowledge that Nate couldn’t view her outfit rationally. ‘It’s perfect for evening wear.’

  The dress was filmy but not flimsy. Attractive, but not obvious. It made the most of her figure, and was flattering in all the right places.

  ‘What it is, is perfectly alluring.’ He growled the words beneath his breath in an accusatory rumble that raised goose-pimples all over her.

  And you’re perfectly alluring to me, Nate Barrett, and I’m not sure I want to fight that feeling any longer.

  He stabbed a sliver of salmon with his fork. Grated the words, ‘The fish is good.’ Shifted his glare to the wine before them. ‘And they’ve done a good job matching the chardonnay.’

  Need bubbled inside her, just waiting….

  ‘The, ah, the salmon is good.’ She would rather be nibbling Nate’s mouth. Sipping from Nate’s lips. ‘And I like a good chardonnay.’

  His fork clattered onto his plate, and fierce blue eyes locked on her. ‘If you put into words what your expression tells me you’re thinking, I won’t be responsible for what follows.’

  What if she didn’t want him to be responsible?

  ‘We’ve been good all week.’ It was a declaration and a plea. She didn’t know if she wanted reassurance, or permission to break out. ‘We’ve managed ourselves,’ she whispered. ‘Right?’

  He touched one of the ringlet curls that Soph had styled to cascade over her shoulders in sassy ripples, and said roughly, ‘Let’s go mingle. Show our appreciation to these stalwart Montbank folks.’

  His silence on the topic told the truth. They had managed because they had buried themselves in business, never delving beneath the surface. If she revealed her willingness, would Nate act on the awareness they shared? Or would he push her away, as he had the last time?

  You would be a fool to risk the hurt.

  They moved to the first table together, chatted a few moments, but her skin tingled and she struggled to focus on anything but Nate’s presence at her side. All the while she told herself she would resist him, because she didn’t want that hurt twice over.

  Then they drifted apart and spent the next hour catching up with people separately. She didn’t want to be away from him, and that reaction scared her, too. Eventually, dessert was served.

  Chrissy even managed to return to their table and swallow half her almond cream pastry before she glanced at Nate and lost her appetite. Because every bite he took of his dessert made her think of his mouth on hers.

  Heat exploded through her. She sat there and fought with herself, and then Nate got to his feet and held out his hand, a crooked, funny, almost tortured expression on his face. She joined him automatically, but her gaze questioned him.

  ‘The music has started.’ His hand tightened on hers as he turned toward the small dance floor at the end of the room. ‘It’s traditional for the boss to begin the dancing.’

  Yes. Henry had indeed made that a tradition, but, ‘Henry danced with his wife. Not his PA.’

  ‘I don’t have a wife.’ He drew her into the centre of the floor, and into his arms.

  Her wariness gave way beneath his touch. When she looked into his eyes, she knew he shared her torment.

  Someone cut in. She wanted to tell the person to leave them be. To let them stay together this way forever. Nate relinquished her, but the heat in his eyes belied his urbane smile.

  Dance after dance passed, and then she found herself facing him again just as a slow, sensual ballad began.

  Chrissy drew in her breath. She wanted his arms around her but wasn’t sure she could trust herself not to reveal how much she longed for him…She shook her head. ‘Oh, no. I don’t think it would be a good idea—’

  ‘Probably not.’ He drew a shallow breath. ‘But just for tonight. Just this. Just one dance. Please.’

  Instead of resisting, she stepped into his arms. Her hands came to rest against his chest as they swayed to the music. ‘How can we dance so well together when we’ve never done it before tonight?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ His hands tightened where he held her. Dark eyelashes lowered over deep, aware blue eyes. ‘We fit together.’

  ‘Yes.’ She didn’t say more. Didn’t trust herself to. Instead, her lips parted on a sigh.

  His arms tightened. ‘Maybe not such a good idea to use that word around me,’ he growled, and brought her even closer.

  ‘Nate?’ Her arms found their way to his neck. Tightened around him.

  ‘We’re safe.’ He cupped the curve of her hip with one strong, warm hand. The other moved to the dip of her spine and pressed gently. ‘A room full of people. How can we not be safe?’

  How, indeed? Why, then, did she feel absolutely unsafe? ‘This is simply a reward for getting things under control this week.’ Her chin lifted. ‘Just that.’

  His gaze was too sober, the touch of his hands on her possessive whether he meant it to be or not. He didn’t reply.

  With a sigh, she relaxed against him anyway. Sultry awareness tugged at chains deep inside her, tried to wrest them from tenuous moorings.

  But it was OK. She could keep it under control as she had done all through the week. She would take only this much.

  His hold on her tightened. ‘Remind me we’re not alone, because I can’t seem to remember it well enough on my own.’ His harsh whisper grazed her earlobe, the side of her neck.

  Nate thought she had a better chance of controlling this than he did? Ha, ha. She dared to look at his face, and moaned softly. She didn’t want to remind him of any such thing. ‘I don’t see any other people. I only see you.’

  ‘Chrissy. Sweet…’ His mouth was halfway to hers when she became aware that the music had stopped. Had ended long enough ago that they were beginning to draw attention.

  Nate realised it, too, and swore softly beneath his breath as he dropped his arms and stepped back. She stumbled back, too, shaken. What to do now? How to tamp down the fire inside?

  ‘I’m, ah…’ she flicked an uncoordinated hand to indicate others returning to their tables ‘…I’m going to speak with a few more people.’

  Her gaze shifted to the left and she told him, because she couldn’t think of any polite phrases or nice words, ‘You go that way.’

  ‘I don’t want to walk away, Chrissy. I’m certain you don’t want to, either, so maybe we should talk to each other. Should face up to this thing instead of dancing around it any longer.’

  She tried for a smile. Failed. Felt her heart race at the possibilities—and at the chance of so much hurt if they talked and he pushed her away once and for all.

  I want you, Nate, but I’m afraid to reach out and get hurt. ‘Pun intended?’

  His mouth softened, but determination shone in his eyes. Hardened the planes of his face. ‘You know we can’t go on this way.’

  Oh, she was tempted. So, so tempted to say yes, let’s talk. But what would talking achieve?

  I’m scared, Nate. Too scared to talk this out. I’m scared I’ll say things you won’t want to hear. Monumental things I don’t even want to acknowledge are lurking in my heart.

  ‘I can’t do this now.’ A sense of panic flooded her. ‘I just…I can’t.’

  On those words, she hurried away. From the corner of her eye she saw his harsh face, and the rare indecision before he squared his shoulders, locked it all down and attached himself to a group of guests.

  She did the same—on the
opposite side of the room. Somehow she got through. She mingled and chatted and laughed until her jaws ached with the effort and she wondered if everyone could sense the brittleness of her gaiety.

  Nate kept away from her, but she felt his gaze. Felt it almost as a physical brand. This night needed to be over.

  ‘Will you excuse me?’ She smiled at the group of people and moved away. She would thank the kitchen staff, then leave. They had yet to bring out the coffee and twice-baked biscotti, but she couldn’t wait any longer.

  Delicious scents of pine nut and orange rind, of chocolate and cardamom filled the air. At another time, she would have delighted in those smells.

  Her hand was on the swing door when Nate spoke from a little way behind her. ‘I guess we had the same idea.’

  ‘To say thanks, then run for the hills?’ Chrissy tried to smile as she looked over her shoulder and pushed the swing door open. Tried to look as though she felt cool inside. That she was rational, restrained and in control of herself, instead of the rampaging mess she really was. Just looking at him hurt. At the same time, she couldn’t bear the thought of not seeing him every day. Of not being able to look at him any time she wanted to. Any time she needed to.

  Because she loved him.

  The knowledge locked her feet to the floor. Filled her with a sense of desperation and absolute awe that almost tore her apart. She had fallen in love with Nate.

  Had known it even before now, but had refused to acknowledge it. Dear God, what did she do now? She couldn’t let Nate know. Couldn’t allow him to see what she had just realised.

  ‘Chrissy?’ Whatever he saw in her expression, it was enough to make him reach for her. The shutters dropped away and raw hunger etched his face. Emotion pooled in his gaze.

  But what emotion, damn it? What was he thinking?

  She stopped herself before she begged in her heart for that emotion to be love. Her parents had taught her that no amount of internal hoping or bargaining or wishing or pleading could make someone love her. Now above all other times, she needed to remember that lesson and be strong.