Swearing under her breath Heather jumped out of bed, the sheet falling away from her, exposing her nakedness. Her body was so perfect. Absolutely mouthwatering. She was slender, fragile, with long legs and breasts that fit perfectly in his hand. Sometime before they had slept she had taken off her high heels, but she was still wearing her stockings. The sight of her was already driving him crazy.
He knew what they had done was beyond wrong, but what was done was done. Simon wanted her again and if the only thing keeping them apart tonight was Heather finding a way home, he’d sort that out.
“It’s not the car.” She rushed around the room, snatching up her clothes and quickly putting them back on. “I’m sorry, Simon, but this was a mistake. My job means more than this.”
“More than what?” he asked.
“More than what we just did,” she said, her voice suddenly cold.
“And what did we just do?” he demanded.
“We had our fun,” she replied. “Now it’s over.”
He sat up and narrowed his eyes. “So, you regret it. I thought you said you were sure this is what you wanted.”
“It was,” she said. “But it’s done now. We have to go back to our lives.”
“You mean we have to pretend this never happened,” he muttered. So much for round two.
“Yes,” she said. “It’s for the best.”
“You’ve gotten very good at pretending,” he said, unable to hide the accusation in his tone. “At hiding. At keeping secrets and keeping parts of yourself closed off.”
“You’re my boss,” she hissed. “You aren’t entitled to seeing that side of me.”
“You’re right. I’m not.” Simon sighed. “I know I’m your boss, but I was also your friend. And as your friend, I want you to know that you can trust me. You can open up to me.” He wasn’t the kind of man who got close to people. But Heather was at the very least his friend. The years between them wouldn’t change that. “I won’t tell anyone what happened if that’s what you’re worried about.” He tilted his head as he watched her. He was the billionaire boss—shouldn’t he technically be the one worried that she might tell others?
She grabbed her bag from off the floor. “I’m not doing this. I’m not having this conversation right now.”
Frustrated, he reached his hand out to her, determined to get her to stay. “Look, I know today has been crazy. Let’s just talk.”
“Oh, so now you want to talk?” She ran her hand through her disheveled hair, suddenly flustered.
He frowned, and pulled his hand back from her. “What does that mean?”
“It means you don’t get to be out of my life for ten years and then come charging back in like you know me.” Heather grabbed hair pins from off the floor and began putting her hair up in a bun.
“You won’t give me a chance to know you,” he said bitterly. “You’ve been pretending to be someone else ever since your interview.”
“We’re not doing this now. I need to get out of here,” she snapped.
“What’s the rush? I’ve already offered to drive you back to the office.”
“I have to get my son from his grandparents’ house,” she said coldly, grabbing her blouse off the floor in a frustrated swipe. “That’s the rush.”
Her son.
That was what was agitating her.
“Were you supposed to pick him up or something?” he asked.
She laughed humorlessly as she slipped her bra on. “Yes. It’s kind of a thing that parents do. Pick their kids up. After school my mom or dad picks him up, and he stays with my parents until I pick him up to take him home. He doesn’t like being at our house unless I’m there with him. It reminds him too much that his father and I aren’t together anymore if one of us isn’t there with him. And I haven’t done that today. Because I’ve been here for hours with you.”
His chest tightened. Heather was already regretting what they had done. There was no chance of her staying in his room tonight. No chance of them having a real conversation. Not if she was worried about something as important as her son. “Just call your parents.”