Engaging the Boss (Heirs of Damon)

by Noelle Adams

  Jonathan would want so much more.

  Men just didn’t fall for her. She’d dated some in college and grad school, but mostly because she was one of the few women in her programs. Guys didn’t seem to really fall for her. Even Matt—whom she’d dated longer than anyone else—had never said he loved her.

  She was pretty sure he never had.

  It was fine. She had plenty of other things going for her. She just had to make sure this thing didn’t threaten her job, so she couldn’t let Jonathan see she was hurt or upset about what had happened.

  She’d talked herself down from being crushed by the time she finished the shower. And, by the time she’d dried her hair and got dressed, she felt ready to face the world.

  Nothing had changed. She and Jonathan still worked together, and they would still get along just fine. She’d just had a few good orgasms last night. She wasn’t about to complain.

  He was already downstairs for breakfast, so she went down to the breakfast room. Harrison, Laurel, and Marietta were at the table too, Marietta laughing at something Harrison had said.

  Sarah smiled at everyone and went to get some coffee and fill her plate. She wasn’t very hungry, but she didn’t want to act like anything was different this morning.

  She sat down, asking for details on the tennis match they were talking about. Jonathan hadn’t said anything, but she could feel him looking at her closely.

  The knowledge was disturbing, and she didn’t want him to know she was even slightly disappointed. If he thought she’d be distracted at work from now on, then he might wonder if she could still do her job. So she smiled at him. She smiled at everyone. She laughed when appropriate, and she ate most of her eggs, bacon, and Danish.

  And soon it felt like her face was going to break in half.

  But she made it through breakfast. And she made it through the morning, mostly by accepting Laurel’s invitation to help her set up and decorate for the wedding shower she was throwing for Marietta the next day.

  Laurel was nicer than Sarah had thought at first. She had an organized, no-nonsense approach to everything—particularly planning something like a wedding—and Sarah couldn’t help but admire her clear thinking and efficiency. But she wasn’t really brusque, and she seemed to genuinely like and respect Sarah. So Sarah was feeling better by lunchtime, having convinced herself that nothing about her life had really changed.

  When she and Laurel walked into the entry hall, Sarah knew immediately that something had changed. There were voices coming from the parlor, but the vibes somehow felt all wrong.

  She found out why when they followed the voices into the parlor.

  Benjamin Damon, the rebel nephew of the family, had decided to come after all.

  Chapter Six

  Benjamin didn’t look anything like a Damon.

  He wasn’t clean-cut and well-dressed like Harrison and Andrew or even handsome in wrinkled clothes like Jonathan. His face was barely visible beneath an untrimmed full beard, and he wore beat-up jeans and had tattoos all over one arm.

  He couldn’t have showed up in a way more sure to offend his uncle if he’d tried. For all Sarah knew, he had been trying.

  He’d arrived with a middle-aged, comfortable-looking woman who must be his mother, and he clearly wasn’t enthusiastic about being here at all.

  When Sarah and Laurel arrived in the parlor, they were introduced to Benjamin and his mother, Lucy Damon.

  Sarah wondered if she’d never been married or if she’d reverted to her maiden name after a divorce. She could asked Jonathan later.

  The parlor was crowded, with Andrew and Harrison trying to make conversation with Benjamin, and Cyrus and Marietta talking to Mrs. Damon.

  Jonathan had been listening to his cousins’ conversation, but he stood up when Sarah entered the room. She walked over to stand beside him, since they were supposed to be engaged.

  She felt nervous and kind of upset though, the sight of his big hands, wrinkled shirt, and dark brown eyes making her think about how much she wanted him.

  They sat down together on the antique settee he’d been sitting on before, and they were so close their thighs pressed together.

  She wondered if he was as uncomfortable as she was, or if he was oblivious about the whole thing.

  With Jonathan, it was hard to tell.

  Harrison was valiantly trying to make civil conversation about Benjamin’s work at an architecture firm, but Benjamin’s answers were terse and uninformative. When Harrison made an optimistic comment about Benjamin’s future, suggesting he would climb the ladder of promotion quickly, Benjamin said bluntly it wasn’t going to happen.

  Harrison was evidently at a loss, and he looked discreetly to Andrew for help.

  Andrew, looking half-annoyed and half-amused, started telling Benjamin about the inn he and Laurel had on Santorini. It was the right move, since it allowed him to do most of the talking, and the rest of them could join in on mostly natural conversation.

  Sarah listened with half her mind and with other she studied Benjamin. She didn’t find him attractive, and she thought he was rather rude, but after a few minutes she decided his behavior wasn’t the sulking of a rebellious adolescent. He was grown-up—definitely all man—and he didn’t appear petty or mean-spirited.

  Rather, she decided he looked trapped, like he was desperate to get away and pulling into his shell was the only way he could make it through the encounter.

  She couldn’t help but wonder what happened to make him hate his family so much.

  She must not have done a very good job about being discreet in her scrutiny. Benjamin kept catching her eye and, on about the fourth time, he arched his eyebrows and gave her a dry half-smile.

  She glanced away, hiding a smile. For the first time, she could see that he might actually be as attractive as all the Damon nephews were known to be.

  Not as handsome as Jonathan, but she didn’t know anyone who was.

  She looked up at Jonathan and saw to her surprise that he was watching her. She smiled up at him, a little hesitantly. She really wanted things to get back to normal between them, even if her own emotions were running completely out of control.

  He smiled back—the real smile she didn’t often see—and she felt a flush of pleasure wash over her.

  Maybe everything wasn’t messed up. They’d always gotten along so well, and their work could remain the priority.

  Unfortunately, their shared look had made her more conscious than ever of his big, warm body beside her. She wanted to lean into him, wanted his arm around her.

  To distract herself, she looked at Benjamin again, trying to figure out what the tattoo was that covered one of his inner arms.

  Her eyes darted up to his face, and she saw he’d caught her staring again.

  Conversation had shifted over to the wedding, and the talk felt disconnected enough for her to start her own conversation. So she covered her staring by explaining to Benjamin quietly, “I was trying to figure out your tattoo.”

  His eyes very dark brown above his dark beard, but they weren’t cold or unkind. He stretched out his arm so she could see the tattoo better.

  It was made up of interconnected shapes that didn’t form any coherent pattern. She lowered her brows. “What does it mean?”

  “That’s what everyone asks.”

  She frowned, since she’d really wanted to know and didn’t appreciate this indirection, but after a moment she could see he wasn’t going to tell her.

  She rolled her eyes when gave her another half-smile. This smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  To her surprise, Jonathan moved just then, sliding one of his arms around her back and pulling her against his side.

  They were supposed to be engaged. He was probably just playing the role. But it seemed strange to Sarah, so she looked up at him.

  To most people, he would appear just as laidback as always, but to her he looked annoyed for some reason.

  She had no idea why.


  She liked how his arm felt around her. Liked it so much she wanted to pull away. She didn’t, of course. They’d gone too far for her to retreat from her role now.

  Gordon appeared in the room to tell them lunch was ready, and Sarah sighed in relief as she got up.

  Her back, shoulder, and side felt too warm, as if she could still feel Jonathan against her. She couldn’t believe she’d had sex with him last night, that he’d made her come so hard, that she’d urged him so shamelessly to take what he wanted.

  Nothing was supposed to change, but her life still felt very different than it had been just a week ago.

  ***

  After lunch, the non-family wedding guests started to arrive, so the house became hectic and full of conversation. Jonathan said his uncle would be annoyed if he didn’t help greet the new guests, but that she didn’t have to stick around to help.

  She hung around for a while, not wanting to look rude, but after an hour it was clear that she was doing no good. She didn’t know anyone, wasn’t a member of the family, and couldn’t help at all in greeting and or making guests feel at home.

  So she decided it was safe to slip away.

  She took her ereader and went to the garden, deciding she would read for the afternoon until all of the new guests were settled.

  She wandered around, trying to find a private nook. Then she remembered the secret garden and made her way to the wall, where she found the hidden key and opened the door.

  She settled herself on the hammock and read for a while. Then she actually dozed off.

  It was after five when she woke up and realized she should probably get back to the house. She hurriedly locked the door and made her way through the lawns, hedges, and flower beds.

  She wasn’t late, she told herself. She had plenty of time to dress before dinner. She just felt discombobulated since she’d fallen asleep without intending to.

  She ran into Benjamin as she was turning the corner around a hedge. He sat on a bench, reading from an ereader too.

  “We had the same idea, I guess,” she said when he looked up and saw her. She showed him hers.

  “I don’t know what you’re thinking in marrying into this family.” His words were bitter, and so was his look as he glanced back toward the big manor house.

  She sat down beside him, since it seemed rude to walk away or hover over him. “Everyone has been very nice to me.”

  “Oh, they’re always nice.”

  She studied him closely, trying to figure out why he was so angry. No one had been anything but kind to him since he’d arrived. In fact, they’d run in circles trying to make him feel at home.

  “What did they do to you?” she asked bluntly, since he seemed to prefer the direct approach and she really wanted to know.

  Benjamin stared out at the statue of a Greek god that perched above a spill of petunias. He didn’t answer for a long time.

  Then he murmured, “It’s not what they did.”

  Sarah wanted to follow up, but she could see it would be a futile effort. She was a stranger, and he was obviously not the sharing kind.

  “Benjamin,” she began, basically just stalling as she tried to figure out what to say.

  “I actually prefer Ben.”

  “Oh. Sorry. Ben.” No one else called him Ben, but she was happy to call him whatever he wanted. “What are you reading?”

  It was an awkward segue, but it turned out to be a good one. They talked about books, and he seemed much more natural and comfortable. Not friendly and certainly not loquacious. But at least she wasn’t having to carry the whole conservation.

  It was time to dress for dinner when they finally walked back to the house together. And she felt like she’d done a good job in being nice to him and helping him feel more comfortable.

  It would be easier for Cyrus—for everyone—if Ben didn’t feel like such an outsider, and she was glad she was able to help a little.

  She was satisfied with her afternoon’s work as she went back to her room. Jonathan was already dressed for dinner in a dark suit and only slightly wrinkled gray dress shirt, and he was sitting on the chaise at the window, reading a journal. He had a comic book next to him, for when he finished the journal or got bored.

  He looked at her when she entered but didn’t smile.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked, since it wasn’t his typical expression. “Am I late?”

  He glanced at his watch, as if he had no idea what time it was. “What were you doing?”

  “Just reading in the garden.” She went to the closet and tried to figure out what she should wear. She already had outfits picked out for the wedding shower, the rehearsal dinner, and the wedding itself—but it was hard to have to look nice every single evening. Pretty soon, she would have to start repeating outfits.

  “What were you reading?” he asked.

  “Nothing too interesting,” she replied, not wanting to tell him she was reading the latest of a very sexy vampire series. His image of her didn’t include vampires or sexy books, and she’d like for it to remain that way.

  She pulled out a blue silk sheathe dress—the first one the attendant had suggested she try on at the department store. She hadn’t worn it yet, since it was more revealing than the other dresses she’d worn so far and she was a little nervous about it.

  But she decided she’d be brave so she hung it over one arm. When she turned, she saw Jonathan was watching her.

  “You spent all afternoon reading something not interesting?”

  She’d almost forgotten her innocuous comment, and she was a little annoyed he was pursuing this random conversation. “It was fine. Just a book. Nothing you would have heard of. Why does it matter?”

  “It doesn’t.”

  She went to the drawer and picked out a pair of stockings. Then decided she better wear a different pair of underwear, or she’d have pantyline visible beneath the thin fabric of her dress. So she grabbed a lace thong, very different from the cotton bikini panties in different bright colors she normally wore.

  She hid the stockings and the panties beneath her dress, since Jonathan was still sitting there watching her.

  It would have been polite for him to leave and let her dress in privacy, but he didn’t.

  “How do you know I wouldn’t have heard of it?” he asked.

  She frowned. “You read scientific journals and comic books. It wasn’t one of those.”

  Why the hell had he gotten the book she was reading between his teeth this way? He could be obnoxiously stubborn when he got a hold of something.

  Since he didn’t appear inclined to leave, she went into the bathroom to change. She was about to close the door when he said, “I do occasionally read other things, you know.”

  There was the overly patient note in his tone that she’d heard before when he was annoyed by something. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out what would have annoyed him. She left the door half-open while she stripped off her top and pants. “It wasn’t an insult. I just never see you reading anything else.”

  He didn’t answer, so to change the direction of the conversation, she said, “I ran into Ben as I was coming back. He’s really interesting.”

  “Is he?”

  The tense note was even stronger now in his voice, so her attempt at misdirection hadn’t worked.

  She peeled off her panties and pulled on the lace thong, wondering how women wore this kind of sexy underwear all the time. She felt weird and uncomfortable in it, but at least it would save her from pantyline.

  She sat down to pull on her stockings. Those she was starting to like. They made her feel sensual and old-fashioned, something she almost never felt.

  “What happened with him?” she asked through the half-opened door. “With Ben, I mean. Why is he so down on the family?”

  She stood up and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair needed brushing, she needed to put on lipstick, and her curves were a little too curvy. But still, she was su
rprised by how pretty and sexy she looked in the underwear.

  She’d never had that experience looking in a mirror before.

  “What does it matter?” Jonathan asked from the bedroom.

  She was so distracted by looking at herself that she’d lost the thread of the conversation. “What?”

  She unzipped the dress and stepped into it, sliding it up over her body.

  “Why does it matter why Benjamin is angry at all of us?”

  “I guess it doesn’t.” She didn’t know why Jonathan was in such a bad mood, but it was starting to get on her nerves. “I was just curious. No need to snap my head off.”

  She tried to contort herself to zip the dress up the back, but it was so snugly fitted that she was afraid she might rip a seam. So she came out with it unzipped.

  She was about to ask for help when she saw what Jonathan was doing.

  He was looking at her ereader.

  “Hey! That’s private!” She ran over to him and tried to snatch the ereader out of his hands.

  He easily eluded her hands. “You wouldn’t tell me what you were reading,” he said, as if that were some sort of justification.

  She shook with indignation and made another lunge for her ereader. She ended up tackling him, and they both landed in a tumble on the bed.

  “That’s mine,” she raged. “You don’t get to just go in and read it.” She kept grabbing for the little device, and she finally managed to get her hands on it. “It’s an invasion of privacy.”

  “Sorry,” he said. His tone had changed now, and it sounded warm, like he wanted to laugh. “You wouldn’t tell me what you were reading.”

  “That’s not an excuse.” She tried to sit up, since she was sprawled out inelegantly on top of him. She was suddenly aware that he was big and alive and masculine and on the bed.

  “Evidently,” he murmured, his dark eyes softer than she’d expected, “You like to read about vampires having very kinky sex.”

  She flushed hotly and tried to push herself up, her hands braced on his broad shoulders. “That’s none of your business. They’re very popular books.”