“It’s Joseph Ashton!” Claire continued, sounding like she was just about to burst apart with excitement. “You know, the Ashton Tech guy!”
Oh yes, Christie knew. And no, she didn’t want to see him. Not now. Not ever. She opened her mouth to say those exact words but just as her brain sent the command to her vocal cords, the door to the Total Tech office burst open and Joseph bloody Ashton was standing on the threshold.
Christie felt a wrecking ball land on her stomach.
He was in ratty old sweatpants and a faded black T-shirt, his hair standing up on end as if he’d run his hands through it one too many times, a big white bag held in one hand. He stood uncharacteristically motionless, his eyes glittering like Indian sapphires as they searched for and found her, the air itself slowing down and becoming thick and dense with tension as he stared at her.
The other guys in the office began to realize something was up, heads turning toward the door where Joseph stood, conversations faltering, then falling silent.
“Christie?” he said, the familiar sound of his melted chocolate voice making her shiver.
The collective gaze of the entire office switched to where she sat, rooted to the spot at her desk.
She swallowed, her throat constricting. Her whole body trembled with the need to throw herself into Joseph’s arms and hold on. But she wouldn’t. Regardless of why he was here, he’d told her exactly where he stood on that particular matter. And besides, so what if he didn’t love her? She didn’t care. She really didn’t.
“J-Joseph,” Christie said, trying to sound businesslike. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t seem to notice that every single person in the office was now looking at him, his gaze locked on her. “I need to see you.”
“Oh.” Tearing her eyes from his, Christie moved her stapler and shifted her keyboard more to the center of her desk. “W-well, as you can see, I’m a little b-busy right now so—”
“Please.”
The raw need in his voice made her catch her breath. Her shaking hand shifted a block of Post-it notes.
I don’t care why you’re here. I don’t care what you say.
She gritted her teeth, staring firmly at her computer screen and not at him. Or the assembled masses currently gaping at her from their desks. Christie made a minute adjustment to the placement of her mouse. “I r-really am very b-busy…”
“Please, Christie. Don’t send me away.” An echo of pain in the words. An echo finding an answer in her own heart.
She looked up and found him standing near her desk, looking down at her with such intensity her throat clogged up and the words of denial she’d been going to say vanished from her head.
“I’m sorry,” Joseph said hoarsely into the silence, as if he didn’t know fifteen other people were watching him. As if he and Christie were alone. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. You didn’t deserve that. You deserve… God, you deserve so much better.”
Tears pricked her eyes. Oh, bugger, she was going to cry. Right here at her desk with all her work colleagues staring at her.
“Joseph,” she began.
But he ignored her, dropping the white bag on the floor and stepping up to her desk. Putting his hands on the edges of it, leaning forward to look right into her eyes. “You deserve a better man than me, Christie St. John. You know that, right?”
Her heart seemed to stop. “I-I-I—”
“You deserve someone richer. Kinder. Someone who’ll never let you down. Who’ll never hurt you. Christ—” he gave a short laugh “—you deserve a man who can at least concentrate for more than ten seconds at a time.”
“Joseph—”
“But the thing is, you won’t find a man who loves you as much as I do.”
The entire office was silent. You could have heard the rustle of a fly’s wing.
Somewhere someone started clapping but was hurriedly shushed by someone else.
Christie was too busy staring at Joseph, the words hitting her like a punch to the stomach. Forgetting about the crowd of people watching this with fascination, she said in a thin, reedy voice, “You l-love me? But you told me that—”
“I know. I was wrong.” Joseph’s blue eyes never left hers. “I told myself I didn’t. Because I was afraid, Christie. I don’t deserve you.”
“Ahem.” Marisa, who had been standing behind Christie’s desk, gave them both a meaningful look. “I hate to break this up, but would you guys like to go somewhere more private?”
As if realizing where he was for the first time, Joseph looked around and took in the avid faces of the assembled Total Tech staff. Something in his gaze must have been rather menacing because abruptly they scattered, all of them seeming to have urgent tasks to do.
He pushed himself away from Christie’s desk. “I don’t care who’s bloody watching. I love this woman and I’m not ashamed to say it.” Then he glanced at her and frowned. Leaned over and gently brushed away a rogue tear that had escaped without her permission. “On second thought, maybe that’s a good idea.”
“Try Ben’s office. He’s on leave today.” Marisa raised a pointed eyebrow. “All day.”
But Christie was barely taking in anything, reeling from Joseph’s very public confession.
As Joseph ushered her into Ben’s tiny office, closing the door very firmly behind them, she burst out. “I don’t understand. What changed, Joseph?”
He didn’t answer immediately, beginning to pace in front of the door, hands thrust in the pockets of his jeans. His gaze never left hers, the look in them pinning her to the spot. After a moment he said, “What changed? It’s very simple. I realized I couldn’t live without you.”
Pressure in her chest, squeezing so tight. “You said you didn’t deserve me.”
“And I don’t. But I’m a selfish bastard, and not having you was worse than having you and hurting you.”
“Joseph, I—”
“Do you still love me?” He’d stopped pacing.
“W-what?”
“Do you still love me, Christie? Answer me.”
She couldn’t lie. Already difficult for her, Joseph’s confession had now just made it impossible. “Yes,” she croaked out.
He let out a breath, relief obvious in his eyes. But he made no move toward her, just stood there with his hands in his pockets. “I want you. I want you more than my next breath. But the choice has to be yours. I’m not an easy person to live with. The ADHD makes relationships hard to maintain. I’ve…lost friends in the past. Lost people I’ve cared about.” A small hesitation. “My mother left because of me.”
“I…I thought you said you didn’t know why she left.”
“No. I know. But my ADHD was severe. I had lots of behavioral problems. Learning difficulties. I got in trouble all the time. I just didn’t have any control over my behavior. My mother couldn’t cope. Dad was away a lot and…she couldn’t handle me.” His voice sounded unsteady. “At first she used to lock me in my bedroom just to contain me. That worked for a while but then, when I got bigger, I kicked a hole through the wall so I could get out. So after that she used to lock herself in her bedroom to get away from me.”
There was an ache in her throat, more tears lurking behind her eyes ready to flood out of her. Hurting for him. For the small boy he’d once been. “Oh, God, Joseph…”
“I used to hear her crying. And I knew it was because of me.”
Christie took a step toward him but he held up his hand, a raw look on his face. “Don’t. Don’t touch me. I want to be with you, Christie. More than anything in the world. But you have to understand what it will be like if you choose me. And you have to be sure. Because I can’t change. All I can do is manage who I am. And if…if…” His voice shook. “If you can’t handle it. If you can’t handle me…” Anguish in his eyes. An old pain. An old fear. “If you left me, if you ended up hating me, I don’t think I could bear it a second time.”
Joseph’s figure wavered in front of her, tears obscuring her visi
on. Everything ached. Her throat, her chest, her heart.
She walked up to him, right up close. Then reached up and touched his face with her hand, her palm against the warm skin of his jaw. He looked at her, his mouth a grim line.
“I don’t want you to change. I don’t want you to be different. All I’ve ever seen is this incredible energy, this intensity, this amazing intelligence. Why do you think you’re so successful?”
She heard him take a breath, saw the denial in his eyes. “I don’t think you understa—”
“No,” she said, cutting him off. “Actually I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand.” She lifted her hands, took his face between them. “You told me you can’t change, and I’m telling you I don’t want you to change. I want you just the way you are.”
“Christie, there’s a reason I only had a couple of friends as a kid. A reason I never had any relationships that lasted longer than a couple of days. I can’t maintain them.”
“What about your sister? You’re close to her, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but she’s my sister.”
“So? Your mother was your mother and yet she left.”
“Jude would never—”
“No. Because she loves you. And so do I.” She stroked his cheeks with her thumbs, wanting to take away the doubt she saw in his eyes. “You made me see the strength within myself. Now it’s your turn to let me show you yours.”
Something flared in his eyes. “What strength?”
“Your ability to care. Your loyalty. Your humor. Your excitement. Your enthusiasm. Your incredible focus. The way you make me feel like the center of the entire universe. You have so many strengths. So many.”
For a long moment he just stared at her. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I know you don’t. But you have to know, I don’t walk away from people just because they’ve hurt me a couple of times.” She managed a smile. “Hey, I stuck by my stupid family for years and years and years, remember?”
All the tension seemed to drain out of his body. He put his arms around her. “When I said that stuff about me getting bored, that was an excuse,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t think I could ever get bored with you.”
She grinned. “You better bloody not. I might be forced to do something stupid to entertain you.”
His hands reached for her face, tilting it back so her mouth was there for him to kiss. And when he did, a dark cloud that had been hanging over her for so long suddenly disappeared.
She pressed against his chest, remembering something. “What’s in that bag?”
Joseph gave a breathless laugh. “Oh hell. That.” He released her, picked up the bag where he’d dropped it by the door, and held it out to her. “A present for you, honey.”
Christie took it and pulled out a long, heavy box. Then she tugged the top of it and stared at the contents. A pair of Ugg boots.
“You’re kidding me,” she breathed. “No way.”
“Only the best for you, Naughtygirl.”
She looked up into his blue eyes. Saw in them everything she’d been secretly hoping for since the moment she’d first seen him. “Now I know you love me, Studman. Or should I call you Love Machine?”
He laughed and then maneuvered her over to the edge of Ben’s desk. “Didn’t we decide Love Machine was better? Now come on, Cinderella, let’s see if they fit.”
“Wait,” Christie said, putting a palm against the hard warmth of his chest. “I have a better idea.”
Joseph raised an eyebrow. “Tell me.”
Starting to feel breathless at her own daring, Christie went over to the door and with a certain amount of deliberation, locked it.
“Oh,” Joseph said softly. “That kind of idea. In your boss’s office? Are you sure?”
She turned around and met his hungry blue gaze. “Hey, they don’t call me Naughtygirl for nothing, remember?” And grinned. “Now can we see if the boots fit?”
They did.
And when everything else came off, Christie’s Ugg boots stayed firmly on.
Epilogue
LoveMachine230: Are you there, Naughtygirl?
Naughtygirl25: Of course. We’re not supposed to see each other, you know.
LoveMachine230: Since I can’t actually see you, I don’t think this counts.
Naughtygirl25: It counts. I know what’s going on in your head.
LoveMachine230: Oh really? And what’s that?
Naughtygirl25: Do I really need to remind you? Sheepskin rugs, lava lamps, Bloody Marys…Neil Diamond… Oh, and speaking of Neil Diamond, did you talk to Marisa about the music?
LoveMachine230: Yes, Bridezilla, I talked to Marisa about the music.
Naughtygirl25: I am NOT Bridezilla! And if you send me a smiley I’m going to kill you.
LoveMachine230: :-)
Naughtygirl25: You are so dead.
LoveMachine230: I can’t wait. Especially if all the angels in heaven look like you.
Naughtygirl25: You know it’s amazing you don’t fall down more often considering how slick you are.
LoveMachine230: And you love it.
Naughtygirl25: Yeah, I do. Does that make me lame?
LoveMachine230: No, that only proves you have excellent taste. Which reminds me, there better be Ugg boots happening underneath that gown of yours.
Naughtygirl25: Of course. Mum thinks I should be wearing white satin kitten heels but I told her it was white Ugg boots or nothing.
LoveMachine230: I bet she loved that. Actually I’ve just had another shoe idea. Which I’m not going to tell you.
Naughtygirl25: Spoilsport! Isn’t it me who should be having shoe ideas?
LoveMachine230: You’ll like it. I promise.
Naughtygirl25: I’d better. :-) And while we’re on the subject, I’m hoping for some hot leopard-print thong action myself.
LoveMachine230: You can hope, you may not get.
Naughtygirl25: Oh, come on. Don’t tease a girl like that.
LoveMachine230: You’ll find out. Tomorrow night.
Naughtgirl25: Damn. That means I have to sit through the whole wedding before I get to unwrap my present. On second thought, let’s not get married. Let’s just go on the honeymoon.
LoveMachine230: You don’t have to wait. You could unwrap your present first if you like. Tonight even.
Naughtygirl25: There’s a name for guys like you.
LoveMachine230: Tempting bastard?
Naughtygirl25: That’s one of them.
LoveMachine230: And I KNOW you love that, too.
Naughtygirl25: *blows kiss* Good-bye, tempting bastard. See you at the altar.
LoveMachine230: Not if I see you first. ;-)
Acknowledgements
This book has been four years in the making and the list of people I need to thank for its eventual arrival into the world are numerous.
First, my wonderful editor, Libby Murphy, for seeing the potential in my geek and her CEO, and helping them get their HEA.
Second, Paul, Tess, and Ruth for putting up with me while I worked.
Third, Mum and Tony for feeding me caffeine and biscuits, and providing the Wi-Fi while I was editing.
Fourth the Sisters, my wonderful crit group—Rachel, Robyn, Jane, Maisey, Jilly, Barbara, and Aideen—for listening to me moan and sharing my journey with me.
Fifth, Lorraine, my first CP and now Minx, who read the very first version of this story and thought it was great.
And last but not least, Dianne and Julian for providing the chair that I sat in while I rewrote this for fifty millionth time at a campground in Waipu Cove. It’s a little thing but when you’re in a tent and the only seating alternative is an airbed, and your wrists are killing you and you have a deadline, a good chair is a godsend.
About the Author
Jackie has been writing fiction since she was eleven years old. Mild-mannered fantasy/SF/pseudo-literary writer by day, obsessive romance writer by night, she used to balance her writing with the
more serious job of librarian until a chance meeting with another romance writer prompted her to throw off the shackles of her day job and devote herself to the true love of her heart—writing romance. She particularly likes to write emotional stories with alpha heroes who’ve just got the world to their liking, only to have it blown wide apart by their kick-ass heroines.
She lives in Auckland, New Zealand, with her husband, the inimitable Dr. Jax, two kids, two cats, and some guppies (possibly dead guppies by the time you read this). When she’s not torturing alpha males and their stroppy heroines, she can be found drinking chocolate martinis, reading anything she can lay her hands on, posting random crap on her blog, or being forced to go mountain biking with her husband.
Talking Dirty with the CEO Page 18