Engaging the Boss (Heirs of Damon)

by Noelle Adams

  His hands had settled on her waist, as if he were going to help her up. But he didn’t. “I guess a lot of people like to read about vampires having very kinky sex.”

  “There’s a lot more to the books than the sex,” she explained, strangely mesmerized by the look in his eyes.

  It looked almost like he was going to kiss her.

  He’d kissed her last night, on this very bed. She’d kissed him. She wanted to do it again.

  But, no, she was wrong about him again. He hadn’t been thinking about kissing her. He lifted his eyebrows and asked, “Why is your dress hanging open?”

  She sucked in a surprised breath and climbed off him, her cheeks burning with new embarrassment and her chest aching slightly in disappointment.

  She really needed to stop expecting something good to happen between them. It was never going to happen.

  “I needed help with the zipper,” she explained, turning away from him. “Would you mind?”

  He stood up without speaking and slowly pulled up the little zipper, his fingers strangely gentle for such a big man. She had to move her hair so he didn’t snag it near the top.

  She shook a little when he finished, and her breathing had gotten ragged.

  She was so, so stupid. She wanted Jonathan so much, when she’d always known she could never have him.

  She took longer than necessary to pick out a pair of heels, mostly so she could hide her face. Then she put on a simple strand of pearls and some earrings.

  Jonathan was waiting when she was ready, his shirt more wrinkled than ever.

  Automatically, she reached over to smooth out some of the wrinkles before she buttoned his suit jacket.

  They went downstairs without speaking, and they’d entered the large, crowded receiving room and gotten their pre-dinner drinks before she remembered she’d forgotten to brush her hair.

  ***

  Jonathan was having trouble keeping his hands off Sarah, so much so that it was becoming ridiculous.

  She looked particularly gorgeous this evening with her tousled hair and sleek dress. He knew what she was wearing underneath it. He’d seen the lace bra and the top of what he was sure was a thong as he zipped the dress up for her.

  What he’d really wanted to do was take the dress off.

  His distracted state was not improved when Sarah drifted away from him while he was making small talk with an old family friend and went over to talk to Benjamin, who was leaning against a wall on the far side of the room and clearly appearing too bleak and intimidating for many people to greet him.

  Sarah showed no reluctance. He’d seen from the window that afternoon when she’d been walking back to the house with Benjamin. They’d seemed very chatty then—as chatty as Benjamin could ever get.

  They seemed very chatty now. Sarah was smiling at him warmly, as if she liked him.

  Jonathan was self-aware enough to know that the brewing tension he felt was jealousy. Possessiveness.

  Sarah was supposed to be his fiancée. Even if it was just a ruse, she was still more his than Benjamin’s.

  His cousin had no right to move into his territory.

  Sarah wasn’t his territory, however. She wasn’t his fiancée. She worked for him, and she had every right to talk to any man she wanted.

  But surely she wouldn’t blow their whole plan by flirting with his cousin.

  She came back over to him before dinner, letting him introduce her as his fiancée to a number of the guests. She was quiet and courteous, and she didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable being surrounded by so many strangers.

  She would fit in fine here, he realized with an odd twist of his gut. Everyone liked her. His family liked her.

  Maybe more than they liked him.

  When they went into dinner, he got another unpleasant revelation. The Damons always placed guests in the old-fashioned way, with couples not seated together. Gordon, probably recognizing that Sarah had made more of a connection to him than anyone else, had placed her next to Benjamin, while Jonathan was all the way down a very long table.

  So Jonathan had to watch as they talked all through dinner. Benjamin didn’t seem to do much talking, but he looked at her a lot. He even smiled occasionally.

  Sarah had called him Ben, as if they were close.

  Jonathan was torn between stewing with irrational jealousy and telling himself it was ridiculous all evening. When dinner was over and they went back into the grand parlor for more mingling, he was unsettled, disoriented, and exhausted.

  He’d had enough of mingling. Sarah was still talking to Benjamin—they’d been joined by Harrison and Marietta so at least it wasn’t an intimate conversation. She seemed perfectly happy, not even aware of his absence. His uncle was holding court on the other side of the room and hadn’t spoken to him all evening.

  Jonathan just slipped away.

  He could only handle so much socializing before his head exploded, and his confused feelings for Sarah made him want to explode in a different way.

  He felt weirdly lonely, for no good reason. He never felt that way. He didn’t like it.

  The only distraction he could come up with was going back to the media room to play Sea and Sky.

  It was dead silent on the third floor, so he sat on the floor, took off his jacket, loosened his tie, and cued up the game.

  He wasn’t sure how long he’d played—maybe an hour or so—when he heard a feminine voice say in the doorway, “There he is. I told you he’d be up here.”

  He looked over his shoulder and saw Sarah coming into the room with Benjamin behind her.

  She smiled at him, although her eyes were unusually sharp as she studied him, as if she were trying to figure out what he was feeling.

  He didn’t want her to know what he was feeling, so he just offered her the second joystick.

  She took it, sitting down next to him as she had the evening before. Her skirt hiked up too high, and he automatically pulled it down for her so Benjamin wouldn’t have an inappropriate view of her luscious thighs.

  “You could have shared your escape route with us earlier,” Benjamin said, coming over to sit on the edge of the couch. His eyes landed on the large monitor. “Damn, I haven’t played this game in years.”

  Jonathan opened a drawer and found a third joystick, giving it to Benjamin in what he thought was a remarkable act of family charity, since he’d much rather play with Sarah alone.

  The three of them started to play the game without any unnecessary niceties or small talk. All of them were skilled players, and Jonathan was soon absorbed in maintaining his lead. An hour passed quickly, until they were interrupted by Harrison and Andrew.

  “Is the mingling still going on?” Sarah asked, as the two men came into the room to see what they were doing.

  “It’s wrapping up,” Andrew said. “People are starting to head to their rooms.” He looked bored and a little tired, but he perked up when he saw what they were playing. “Wow! That’s a blast from the past. Can I play?”

  “Sure,” Sarah said with a welcoming smile. “Did you want to play too, Harrison?”

  Harrison was chuckling under his breath, but he agreed to play, just to be polite, he explained.

  “We’re not starting over for the two of you,” Jonathan said a voice that brooked no arguments. “But we’ll spot you both 50,000 points so you’ll have a fighting chance.” He dug up two more joysticks and tossed them over.

  Andrew snorted. “You won’t have any sort of chance. I used to be good at this.”

  Sarah’s dress was hiking up again, so Jonathan pulled it down once more. She slanted him a slightly embarrassed look and readjusted herself. “Maybe I should go change clothes,” she murmured, looking at him as if she wanted his opinion.

  He was about to say they’d wait for her, since it couldn’t be comfortable sitting on the floor in that dress, but Benjamin said, “I wouldn’t. You’d be too far behind by the time you got back from changing.”

  She shrugge
d, and they all focused on the game again.

  Jonathan was surprised by how good a time he had, since he thought having his cousins around might be annoying. But they were all good-natured, and no one was distracted by conversation. Despite the skill and coordination of his competitors, Jonathan still held onto the lead.

  Sarah was almost as good as he was, and she got more and more intense as she had to fight to stay in second place.

  He hadn’t realized she was so competitive before.

  Eventually, Laurel and Marietta came in. Laurel wanted to play, and Harrison offered to give up his spot to Marietta, since the game only allowed six players. Marietta said she didn’t know how to play, and she’d be happy to just watch instead.

  “It doesn’t seem right that Harrison gets a cheerleader,” Andrew grumbled, when Marietta started to praise and clap for every kill that his brother made, “while my girlfriend is ruthlessly trying to trounce me.”

  Jonathan found himself laughing with the rest of them—which was an unusual enough circumstance for him notice.

  He won the first two games, but they were now on their third.

  Harrison and Andrew were hurling insults at each other, and occasionally at him. Laurel wasn’t as good as the rest of them—since she hadn’t had as much practice as a child—but she was watching and evidently taking mental notes, since her playing kept getting better and better.

  Benjamin wasn’t talking, but he was completely absorbed in the game, and he would occasionally smile when someone said something funny or when he made a particularly good move.

  Sarah had raised herself up onto her knees, rocking with the intensity with which she maneuvered her joystick. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail with a band she’d borrowed from Marietta, and she seemed completely unconscious of her elegant clothes or her undignified position.

  Jonathan had never seen anything sexier in his life.

  Everyone was getting better as they played, so Jonathan should have been concentrating more closely on the game. But he kept getting distracted by Sarah. By the way her breasts jiggled as she moved the joystick. By the lace tops of her stockings which had slid down and were peeking out beneath her hem. By the idea that all of these other men were getting to see her this way.

  It was only the distraction that made him miss an obvious kill, only the distraction that allowed Sarah to grab the last starfish before he did.

  The room burst into a loud roar of excitement when Sarah won the game, the others clearly elated at the mere fact that someone—anyone—had managed to beat him.

  Sarah raised herself higher on her knees, cheering uninhibitedly at her victory. She returned Benjamin’s double high-five and accepted the loud praise from the others.

  Then she turned to Jonathan, beaming, her face spilling over with excitement. “What do you have to say for yourself, loser?”

  He tried not to smile in response, but he wasn’t entirely successful. He did manage, however, to keep his voice dry as he replied, “I took pity on you and let you win.”

  The others exclaimed loudly over the injustice of this remark, and Sarah gave him a friendly shove, which caused her to lose her balance and fall against him.

  He put his arms around her automatically for support, but it somehow turned into a hug. She was so much warmth and sincerity and passion and brilliance. She was so soft and gorgeous and completely Sarah.

  She made everything better.

  She made him better.

  The embrace felt private but wasn’t, and no one seemed to think it was strange, since they were supposed to be engaged. They were all still talking and laughing, and Sarah was trying to right herself, extricating herself from his arms, when they noticed someone else was in the room.

  His uncle stood in the doorway, watching his nephews with an oddly quiet expression on his face.

  The laughing and chatting faded when they became aware of his presence.

  Cyrus Damon was who he was. He was who he’d always been. And this kind of uproarious, chaotic gathering was nothing like the eminently civil, elegant, formal affairs he favored.

  Jonathan felt his stomach drop, although they obviously hadn’t been doing anything wrong.

  Sarah, however, didn’t seem to think anything was strange or uncomfortable. She smiled at his uncle with that same wide, glowing smile and asked, “Did you want to play? You can have my spot if you want. I’ve already beat all your nephews.”

  His uncle’s expression was surprised, but then it softened into a startlingly kind smile. “No, dear, but thank you. Maybe I’ll just watch you beat them again.”

  Chapter Seven

  Sarah woke up very warm and comfortable again. This morning she immediately knew why.

  Once more, she was cuddled up against Jonathan.

  It was honestly a little embarrassing—that her sleeping self was so insistent on being close to him. His arm was around her, though, holding her body tightly against his side, so at least she wasn’t the only one guilty of unconscious snuggling.

  She raised her head slightly and was surprised to see in the dim light that his eyes were open.

  He’d been staring up at the ceiling, but his eyes shifted to her at her slight motion.

  “Hi,” she said, smiling a little shyly. After all, it could be a little awkward, cozying up to her boss in bed this way.

  “Hi.” Jonathan made no move to get up, which surprised her. The previous mornings, he’d rolled out of bed as soon as he was awake. There was a strange look on his face too—thoughtful, almost poignant.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, instinctively tightening the arm that was still draped around his middle. When she realized she was hugging his flat, bare belly—that she could feel the thin line of hair that trailed down under his waistband—she drew back her arm immediately.

  “Yeah.” He didn’t pull back his arm or roll away, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore.

  Since she had nowhere else to put her arm, she laid it back on his abdomen, but made sure it was just resting there rather than hugging him. Or stroking him, which was what she really wanted to do.

  He didn’t say anything else, and she felt another prickle of worry. There was so much going on in his mind that she just didn’t know. “Are you sure? You were kind of quiet last night. I mean, after the game.”

  “We went to bed after the game.”

  That was true, and he’d never been a big talker, but he’d been unusually withdrawn last night.

  “I know.” She paused for a moment, struggling over whether she dared to say more. Then, “I thought you had a good time—with the others.”

  “I did.”

  She was silent after that, since it felt like he had more to say. Intuitively, she knew that if she pressed any further, he would close up and never say it. Her hand flattened on his belly—his flesh warm and firm beneath her palm. It lifted and lowered slightly with his breathing.

  After a long stretch of silence, he added, “I never expected to have a good time with them.”

  The words were vague, almost diffident, but she understood them immediately. He’d never felt a part of a family that way. The idea made her incredibly sad. “I think your uncle was surprised too. But he seemed to…he seemed to enjoy it. I think.”

  “Yeah. It was…”

  “It was what?” She was almost holding her breath, wondering what he would say.

  “It was strange. I’ve always thought I would never be able to do enough to earn his respect or…appreciation, but last night…when I wasn’t even trying…”

  She swallowed hard, wanting to say so much but terrified of saying anything—of stepping over some line. She finally murmured, “Maybe it’s not about earning it.”

  He didn’t reply, but he didn’t seem to resent what she’d said.

  They lay together in silence for a few more minutes, until Sarah realized she was caressing his belly after all. Her hand was under the sheet, but she glanced down at it anyway.


  When she did, she saw something else.

  He was hard.

  The knowledge did something dangerous in her chest and between her legs. She’d never really thought she was the kind of woman who would turn on a man like Jonathan. Sure, if he was half-asleep in a dark room, but not just lying together in the morning light.

  But maybe…maybe…

  She darted a glance up to his face, with a jittery hope that she’d see heat, desire, or at least some sort of physical interest.

  Instead, he just gave a half-shrug, obviously realizing what she’d noticed. “It’s morning.”

  Comprehension dropped on her like a brick. His hard-on wasn’t about her after all—just a normal morning erection.

  “Yeah,” she said, trying for a casual smile. “Must be very inconvenient for you.”

  He did roll away then and climbed out of bed. As he walked to the bathroom, she took an automatic assessment of the smoothly rippling muscles of his shoulders and back, his firm butt under his shorts, and his strong, hairy legs. He looked masculine, virile, incredibly domestic.

  She wanted him desperately—and not just physically—but he didn’t want her at all.

  ***

  At breakfast that morning, Sarah was still worried about Jonathan. It seemed like something was brewing inside him that he couldn’t acknowledge, much less admit aloud.

  Thinking it might help if he could get away from the estate for a while and feel more himself again, she suggested at breakfast that she wouldn’t mind doing a little sightseeing, since this was the last day before the wedding festivities started in earnest.

  She wanted to see Bath, since she’d always been a big Jane Austen fan. She also wanted to see Stonehenge, since it wasn’t far from Bath.

  Jonathan agreed to take her, and she was pleased with the success of her plan—especially since she caught a faint glimpse of relief in his eyes, as if he liked the idea.

  Then Ben, who’d been reading a newspaper and drinking coffee across the table, asked, “Were you hoping for it to be romantic, or are others allowed to tag along?”

  Sarah was surprised by the request, but she wasn’t upset or disappointed. It definitely wasn’t a romantic outing, and having someone else there would help her to remember that, lest she get carried away again. Besides, Ben was obviously desperate to escape from the manor for a while, and she couldn’t help but take pity on him.