Hot Boss, Boardroom Mistress

The door opened.

‘You’re in no condition to drive.’ His voice was rough but his hands were gentle as he slid one under her, the other behind her back, and carried her back to the lift.

Her fist clenched on his chest. She could feel his heart pounding. He must have flown down those stairs to have kept pace with that supersonic lift.

‘I hate you,’ she choked. He’d hurt her and now she had nothing left, not even pride as she broke. The world crumpled and she screwed up her eyes, unable to stop the rivers flowing from them.

‘I’m sorry.’ He held her close as the lift whizzed up. Walked straight into the apartment—his door still open wide from the crazy sprint they’d both taken. He kicked it and it slammed behind him. Five strides later he was at the sofa and sitting on it; his grip loosened a little then but she didn’t have the energy to pull up and away. Every ounce of her had succumbed to grief.

And her thoughts went back to her grandfather. To the terror and despair of those moments before she’d called for the doctor. She cried and cried and cried for the loss of the only parent she’d known, for the heartbreak at seeing him fade. For seeing such a strong, vital man cowed and childlike and so vulnerable. And for her inability to protect him. She’d let him down.

‘I should have done more. I should have been there more.’ She sobbed, barely coherent.

His lips were on her hair as he answered. ‘You did everything you could.’

‘It should have been more.’ Her voice rose. ‘I never should have left.’

‘You were young. You had to leave home. He wouldn’t have wanted you to stay.’

‘I should have gone back more often. I should have seen it sooner.’ She was so sorry. So unbearably sorry. ‘I wish he’d told me.’

‘He’s not himself.’

And now she was alone.

Eventually Jared stopped trying to reason with words and just soothed with shushing sounds and gentle strokes down her back. Rocking her and listening and being supportive as best he could. Forcing his own lust down, just cradling her like the sad friend she was. She needed arms and ears more than passionate aerobics. She was in no state for it and he didn’t want to confuse things more.

He didn’t want to bury her emotion and pain in what was, at present, only a temporary fulfilment. And he wanted to know all her secrets, her fears and sense of loss. And then he wanted to fix it somehow.

His heart filled to bursting as he felt the break in hers. Felt the honesty in her love and sadness for her grandfather. She loved him. And Jared wished he’d had someone to care for him as deeply as that. A family. A real kind of family that was there through thick and thin—those people who made mistakes with each other but who forgave and who still loved regardless.

But he couldn’t believe that he could ever make that family with Amanda.

After a long while he moved. She’d cried herself to sleep and his arms were beyond aching and right on into numb. He didn’t care. Didn’t want to give up the burden of her. He carried her into his bedroom. Laid her down and loosened her clothing, shrugged out of his own. Slipping between the soft sheets, he pulled her towards him, curling around her, listening to her jagged breathing and the occasional hiccup.

Hours later he still couldn’t sleep, lay with his head propped on his hand watching her face in the dim room. Her cheeks were pale, a bit blotchy, tear-stained and tired. He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling a strange stinging at the back of his own eyes. He clamped his teeth together then. She made him weak. But somehow she made him strong too. He needed the morning to come. Needed to be able to talk to her when she was calm and rested.

Only problem being that he was far from calm, and found any kind of rest impossible.

Chapter Fifteen

AMANDA woke, her eyes so heavy they wouldn’t open properly. They must be totally puffy. Man, she must be a sight. She lay still, trying to ignore the headache, but it thudded anyway.

She was in his bed and he was an arm’s length away, sound asleep and, as far as she could tell, naked.

And despite last night’s outpouring, her eyes watered again. More for him this time than for her grandfather.

It hurt—she winced and tried to blink them back. Enough already.

He’d refused her last night, when she had wanted him so badly. He’d torn her heart right through and all the pain had tumbled out. But even though it hurt she couldn’t blame him. Couldn’t hate him how she’d really like to. He could never give her what she wanted. She understood that now. He simply didn’t have those feelings in him—not for her. That was why he’d made the offer he had. He hadn’t understood her angle—hadn’t even thought that she longed for something more. He just wanted her around for fun-filled nights. Not needing or wanting anything else. Happy to pay the money to make it more convenient, surprised that she’d been angry. At least he hadn’t worked out why she’d been so angry. At least she thought he hadn’t then, he must know now. But she was beyond the humiliation.