Hot Boss, Boardroom Mistress

That had been the moment. He’d pushed her from him. Hurled her, really. But it had either been that or take her then and there. He had only been a youth. Control with finesse was something that came with age and experience. Back then it had been all he could do to walk away. Dragging her back to her grandfather, knowing it would kill the thing dead in its tracks.

But it hadn’t.

Nine years, seven and a half months later and he still had to work harder than anything to control his body’s reaction to her. Even more so now knowing what she was like. The reality so much better than the fantasy. How bloody tempting every inch of her was.

Looking back on it now, he didn’t blame Colin. Wouldn’t he have done the same? No way would he want his granddaughter hooking up with the son of the town drunk. The local charity case. That fire in Jared had been fuelled even more. To do better. Be better. For the old guy to have second thoughts? Regrets? The ‘I’ll show you’ mentality that many who achieved had been blessed with. Was it a blessing or a curse?

He shouldn’t have cared so much what the old guy thought. Had liked to pretend he hadn’t. But he had. Pride had made him angry. He wouldn’t be paid off. And he’d been so angry with her for wanting only that from him. The irony was that now he suspected she wanted more—and that was impossible.

Jared chose not to tell her any of that old conversation. Not now. Not ever. It was in the past; she might not agree but that was where it would stay. And he still wasn’t the man for her.

‘I didn’t keep in touch because that was what we agreed.’ He finally answered her question. ‘I wanted to get out of this town and never look back. There was nothing to come back for.’

Her eyes were big and round and hurt danced in the shadows at the back of them.

‘It was just one kiss, Amanda,’ he said roughly. ‘You’re supposed to get over your teenage crushes.’

She winced and coloured. Spoke with the finishingschool dignity that both irritated him yet made him respect her at the same time. ‘I’m working on it.’

Shame the same couldn’t be said about him. One image, one taste had come back to haunt him in the flesh. Now he couldn’t seem to rid himself of the obsession.

Amanda carefully placed her knife and fork on her plate. Buying some time to recover from the hurt she’d felt at his comment. Reminding herself that this was just a fling and she’d better keep that fact in mind.

‘I’ll take care of Colin. Get him out of there,’ Jared said. ‘But you deal with the rest of it.’

‘What if I’m wrong?’

‘So what? What’s the worst that can happen? Someone comes in and checks the place out and gives it a glowing report.’

‘At the taxpayer’s expense?’

He shrugged. ‘Taxpayers’ money gets wasted on a lot worse things. And what if you’re right? What if they’re not being treated well?’

She knew he was right to push it. Some of those residents were as vulnerable as small children. Yet she couldn’t help but worry. ‘Most of the staff in those places work so hard. Most of the time it’s the patients who are abusing them.’

‘Sometimes,’ Jared said. ‘And so often those carers are underpaid, short-staffed and over-stressed. Things can and do happen.’ Relentless, he gazed at her. ‘You know how to write a letter, Amanda. How to make a call.’

Finally she nodded.

‘Where are you staying tonight?’ He dropped his spoon on the side of his plate with a clatter.

‘The Ashcourt Motel.’

‘I hadn’t booked a place yet. I’ll go there.’

‘I’m in unit four.’ Did he understand that he didn’t need to get his own room?

His chair scraped as he roughly pushed it back and stood. ‘I’ll get working on a solution for Colin.’

‘I’ll go see how he is.’

He led the way through the tables. The rain still poured relentlessly.

Their progress halted when the door to the café opened and a couple of older women walked in. The first woman pushed back the hood of her coat and saw whose path she was blocking.

‘Jared?’ She sounded amazed. But more telling was the look on her face. Amanda recognised it—that same mix of embarrassment and hunger that she’d felt when she’d seen him again.

‘Linda,’ he said flatly.

Amanda suppressed a shiver. Man, he could be an arrogant bastard.

The woman shifted uncomfortably to the side, frowned at Amanda as she walked past. ‘You’re…’

‘Amanda Winchester.’ Amanda nodded, one of her polite school smiles coming automatically.