A Lyon's Share (20 page)

Suddenly his fingers dug into the silk of her robe, shoving her an arm's length away. Her lips throbbed from his bruising kiss, her head bowing weakly to shield the tormenting desire aching within. The curtain of her hair covered the scarlet shame warming her face.

"I'm not your employer any more, Joan," Brandt declared huskily. "Tell me to go or tell me to stay."

"I can't let you stay," she whispered.

"Why?" The demand was expelled with an angry breath. "Don't you truly feel the same thing I do?" There was a sharp, vigorous shake of her shoulders. "I'm a man and you're a woman. There are no other bonds between us, no business, nothing to make you obliged to obey me. If you don't want me, tell me to leave."

"Brandt!" The despairing cry beseeched him not to make her acknowledge her love. "Credit me with some pride and self-respect. I simply can't discount the way I've been raised, the values I've been brought up to believe in. I can't have an affair with you and still hold my head up. Leave. Go to Angela. And please leave me alone!"

"Angela? Who's talking about Angela?" he ground out harshly. "She has no part in this discussion. This concerns you and me."

"But ultimately she is involved." Joan wrenched free of his hold, trying to put distance between them before she melted into his arms.

"Answer me one question," Brandt demanded, "Do you believe I love Angela?"

"Of course!" she cried out, hating the way he was deliberately torturing her with images of them. "She's perfect. She's ideal."

"But she doesn't run around in bare feet. She isn't a bull-headed, stubborn blonde who can't see two inches in front of her nose without her glasses!" His voice raised to a louder, more forceful volume.

Joan's mouth opened in disbelief. The look in the brilliant eyes studying her so calmly was sending her some message that she was certain she wasn't understanding correctly. She shook her head slightly.

"If you could see what's in front of your nose," Brandt continued with slow deliberation, "You could see that I love you."

"Angela?" she breathed.

"Angela is a pretty china doll, just as you said. I've known her a long time. It didn't take me long to know she wasn't the type I wanted. I swear I haven't been alone with her, except for that luncheon date, since that weekend we were stranded." His gaze narrowed. "I love you, but do you care about me?" He hurried on before she had a chance to respond. "I'll settle for affection right now. Anything for the time being. All I want is a chance to make you care as much as I do."

"Care!" Joan laughed, happiness bubbling like a perpetual fountain from her heart. Weakly her hand passed over her forehead. "I've loved you nearly every day that I've worked for you."

In the next instant she was caught up in his arms. This time there was no effort to punish as he tenderly and gently kissed her again and again, touching her as if she were a fragile blossom. She cradled his rugged face in her hands.

"Brandt is this real? Am I dreaming?" she murmured achingly.

If it's a dream, I never intend to wake up unless it's with you in my arms," Brandt vowed. "If it hadn't been for that blizzard, I keep asking myself how long it would have taken me to see you as more than an attractive, competent secretary. When I took you on, I was afraid it wouldn't work. But you were always so formal. It was always business."

"So were you," Joan returned, slipping her arms around his neck.

"Then the electricity went out," he smiled, brushing his mouth over her cheek. "And it was so natural and right to sleep with you in my arms. It was nearly impossible to find that girl when the lights came back on."

"She was hiding, afraid you would guess that she loved you." Joan curled tighter in his arms, those strong arms that would always protect her and thrill her with their caress.

"Not afraid of losing her job?" Brandt mocked lightly.

"I gave it up, remember?" she whispered.

"I remember." A feather light kiss brushed her lips before his head was drawn away. "Kay!" He kept Joan in his arms, smiling at the slight flush in her cheeks. "You can come out now."

The bedroom door was opened and Kay hesitantly stepped out. Dark eyes glanced at Joan resting contentedly in Brandt's arms, apprehension in their depths mixed with wary uncertainty.

"I think Joan would like you to be maid of honor at our wedding," Brandt announced complacently.

At Joan's startled glance, his smile broadened, the radiant light in his blue eyes drawing a soft glow of happiness from hers. Her teeth bit into her trembling lip.

"Did I forget to ask you to be my wife?" he teased, unmindful of Kay's astonished look. "That's the usual course of events when two people love each other, isn't it?"

"Yes." Softly at first, then with a little cry of happiness, Joan, repeated her acceptance. "Yes, yes, it is."

"Tonight we'll have dinner with my parents and tomorrow we'll drive to your home. Am I going too fast?" He tilted his head to the side, searching her face for a sign of uncertainty.

"Brandt—darling," Joan laughed through her glittering tears. "If anything, you aren't going fast enough!"

There was a sharp intake of breath at her words. Convulsively his arms tightened around her an instant before his mouth captured hers. Neither of them heard Kay, a tear of shared happiness slipping from her dark lashes, discreetly close the bedroom door behind her.