Hot Boss, Wicked Nights

‘Thanks, but I’ll come with you. We can talk while we eat.’

From the corner of her eye she saw Sandy watching them and immediately backed away. ‘Um…I was going to eat at my desk.’

‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘You’ve been at it all morning, you need a break and so do I.’ He placed a hand in the centre of her back, the other he raised to Sandy. ‘Back in half an hour.’

‘What’s the problem?’ he said when they stepped outside. ‘If you avoid me like the plague people’ll think I have BO or something.’ He lifted his arm and sniffed. ‘I don’t, do I?’

When she didn’t reply, he said, ‘I’ve been here since two a.m., perhaps I have and you’re too polite to tell me.’

She looked at him in astonishment. ‘Two a.m.? Why?’

He slowed, watching her. ‘Why do you think, Kate?’

The memory of last night’s kiss slow-burned in his eyes. The heat swirling between them as he’d plastered his lips to hers. How he’d pressed his erection against her, making her ache for more than just a kiss.

She dragged her gaze away before she did or said something foolish, like, Why didn’t you come over to my place, and we could have been sleepless together, and kept walking.

They covered the remaining few metres to the coffee shop in silence, purchased sandwiches and coffee and sat at one of the little tables.

Kate struggled with the cling wrap around her sandwich. ‘You left my earrings and that damn note out for the world to see.’

His brow puckered. ‘Uh. I never gave it a thought. Is that a problem for you?’

‘Did you even think about what you wrote: you forgot these last night? Sandy’s the world’s biggest gossip.’ She stirred her coffee with a vengeance. ‘I don’t do office romance.’

His hand hovered over his latte and interest sparked in his eyes as they met hers. ‘Is that what we have, Kate?’

‘What… Romance?’

She almost scoffed. As if he’d do romance. He’d simply do. A shiver ran down her spine but her face flushed with heat at the memory. He’d already proved he could do masterfully well. She frowned into her cappuccino. He was undeniably her boss now. Damn.

‘If that’s what you want to call it,’ he said softly.

‘I don’t know what I call it,’ she said, irritation pricking her skin. ‘All I know is I can’t damn well get you out of my head.’

She didn’t realise she’d admitted it aloud, but she must have because he said, ‘Me, too.’ He leaned closer, touched her hand with one long bronzed finger. ‘And I want to take it further, see where it leads. So I’m coming to Bali with you.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘YOU’RE coming too?’ Kate stared at Damon, her coffee forgotten. Everything forgotten.

‘Hopefully,’ he said, amusement twinkling in his eyes and she got that he wasn’t referring to accompanying her, but something far more intimate.

Heat swirled through her, and her cheeks burned. He’d also voiced several disturbing suggestions at the staff meeting. Like stepping out of one’s comfort zone. Trying new things. Scary things. ‘That’s…not a good idea.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because…you and I have very different ideas about what a holiday is.’

‘Ah, Kate, you’re forgetting; this isn’t a vacation, it’s an educational.’

‘Which makes it blazingly obvious you’re my boss now. How will the other staff view it? Us?’

‘As far as they’re concerned it’s strictly business. What we do in our own time, after business hours, is no one else’s concern. Kate…’ He stroked her hand again, then lifted and rotated it so that his palm rubbed against hers. His eyes darkened; his smile sobered. ‘I told you I want to see you again. I’m attracted to you. I was attracted to you from the moment I first laid eyes on you.’

‘You were attracted to a veiled belly-dancer; the unknown appealed to you. You saw me as a challenge or a mystery parcel to unwrap.’

‘And you were attracted to Indiana Jones. Kate Fielding would never have sex with a bad-to-the-bone stranger. Kate’s never even had one-night sex, has she.’ A statement, not a question.

Another wave of heat rushed to her face. He made it sound like a character flaw. ‘That’s none of your business.’

He tightened his hand when she would have pulled it away. ‘A word of advice: if you want to be Shakira, go to a crowded nightclub, preferably on the other side of town. Don’t do it surrounded by people you know; worse still, your colleagues. You’re bound to be caught out.’