Engaging the Boss (Heirs of Damon) (4 page)

It
would have been nice if Jonathan noticed.

“Oh,”
he said, blinking and eyeing her from top to bottom like she was a bizarre
creature in a museum. “You look…”

She
waited for him to finish. “Gorgeous” would make her happy. “Pretty” would be
satisfying. “Nice,” would be all right and probably more characteristic of him.

“Different.”

Sarah
froze for a moment, registering what he’d said. Then she turned away, hiding
her hurt feelings.

It
didn’t matter what he thought. He didn’t have to like how she looked. She’d
always known that Jonathan Damon would never fall for her.

She
just didn’t want to embarrass herself or him at the fancy house party.

Maybe
someone else would think she was pretty.

***

Sarah looked like a
gorgeous stranger, and Jonathan didn’t like it at all.

She
looked elegant, like she might belong in his uncle’s social circle—something
Jonathan had never felt himself. That idea made him uncomfortable.

She
also looked incredibly lush and sexy, despite the demure, ladylike outfit. The
skirt emphasized her ass in a way he’d never noticed before, and the soft
cashmere clung to her breasts. She made him think about sex, and that was even
more uncomfortable.

Sarah
was incredibly important to his work—he couldn’t at the moment imagine doing
his job without her—so he couldn’t allow himself to ever think about her in any
other way.

Hopefully,
she wouldn’t look so irresistible for the entire coming week.

His
uncle had sent a car and driver to pick them up, and he’d brought a scientific journal
to pass the time on the drive to the estate. That normally would have been
enough to distract him from any uncomfortable thoughts, but he kept noticing
Sarah shifting beside him on the seat. He kept smelling a light, fresh
fragrance that was obviously her.

She
was never one to make small talk, only speaking if she had something to say.
He’d always liked that about her, but now the silence was strangely oppressive.

Something
seemed to be the matter with her, but he had no idea what it was.

Finally,
he put down the journal with a sigh, wishing he’d thought to bring his coffee
with him.

He
glanced over at Sarah. Her shoulders were stiff and her face pointed away from
him. “Is this going to be okay?” he asked, wondering why he’d been so idiotic
as to think this ridiculous scheme would ever work.

She
looked at him in surprise. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

He
lowered his brows. “Are you all right?” Her eyes looked bluer than they ever
had before, maybe because of the sunlight rather than the artificial light of
the lab. But her eyes also looked like she was close to tears.

He
didn’t like that at all. She’d always been happy and agreeable. He didn’t like
that she was upset. He needed to fix it.

“What’s
wrong?” he asked, when she didn’t respond.

She
gave a huff, almost poignant amusement. “Nothing.”

He
frowned. She was obviously lying. “Tell me.”

She
cleared her throat and slid her eyes away from him. “It’s nothing really,” she
admitted, almost self-consciously. “I just spent a lot of time and effort today,
trying to look nice.”

“You
do look nice,” he said in surprise. “Who said you didn’t?” He felt a sudden
flash of defensive resentment at the thought of someone putting her down. He
had no idea where the feeling came from, but Sarah was
his
—his assistant,
his help and companion—and he was irrationally angry at the thought of anyone
not appreciating her appropriately.

After
a long moment, to his absolute astonishment, Sarah started to laugh. Freely.
Uninhibitedly. Her amusement was so infectious and so pretty he couldn’t look
away, even though he had no idea what was causing it.

“What’s
so funny?” he asked at last.

“Nothing,”
she gasped, wiping away a couple of stray tears. “Sorry. It’s really nothing.”

She
was acting confusing, something she’d never been before. He wasn’t quite sure
why this was happening.

He
was relieved when she changed the subject.

“What
are your cousins like?”

“They’re
okay. I’m not very close to them.”

“You
grew up with them?”

He
gave a half-shrug. “Not really. My parents died in the same plane crash as
Andrew and Harrison’s parents, so my uncle became the guardian of all of us at
the same time. But I was at school most of the time, and they had each other.”

“Were
they nice to you?”

“They
made an effort, but we didn’t have a lot of in common. I don’t mind them. We’re
just not close.”

“Did
you fight a lot?”

He
shrugged again. “Not that much. One year at Christmas, we went skiing, and they
were so mad because I could ski better than them. They were used to being
better at sports than me.”

“You’re
a good skier?” She looked surprised.

He
wondered if she thought he wasn’t good at anything active. She’d been surprised
he was running on the treadmill earlier that week. He didn’t like that idea either.
Surely she realized he was a man capable of physical activity outside of a
research lab. “I went to school in Switzerland. We skied a lot.”

“What
about Benjamin? That’s your other cousin, right?”

“Yeah.
He lived in the States with his mother, so I never spent much time with him.”

“Is
he coming to the wedding?”

“I
don’t know. He was asked, but I doubt he’ll come. He hasn’t said a word to my
uncle in years.”

“That’s
too bad. So you didn’t get closer to your cousins after you grew up?”

“We
have different lives. It’s not like they were my brothers.”

The
truth was, there had been a time when he would have liked to be close to them,
but nothing he’d ever done had impressed them. He figured they’d always just
written him off as a science nerd.

For
some reason, the thought made him remember something. Reluctantly, he reached
into his pocket and pulled out a little velvet pouch.

“Before
I forget, you better wear this, since we’re supposed to be engaged.” He dumped
a ring out onto his palm and handed it to her.

He’d
spent a ludicrous amount of time that morning picking out an engagement ring.
He’d gone to a smallish jewelry store, which he thought might expedite the
process. He’d assumed it would be a simple decision, but the salesperson kept
asking him questions about Sarah, trying to get a ring that fit her
personality.

So
the ring-shopping trip had taken much longer than he’d expected, and he’d had
to think about Sarah and her personality much more deeply than he was normally
inclined to do.

So
he was strangely hesitant about offering her the final choice.

It
had a delicately filigreed band of white and yellow gold with one square-shaped
diamond.

Sarah
stared down at the ring with wide eyes.

“Is
it okay?” he asked at last.

“It’s
gorgeous. You didn’t have to—”

“You
had to have a ring.”

“Oh.
Right. But it looks too expensive.”

He
shrugged. It had been very expensive, but he’d never cared much about money one
way or the other, except when it interfered with his work.

“It’s
beautiful.”

He
frowned, feeling like an idiot still holding out his hand with the untaken
ring. At least she seemed to like it.

When
she still made no move to take it, he demanded, “Would you just take the stupid
thing?”

“Oh.
Yeah. Sorry.” She was flushed, her hair hanging down over her face. “Thank
you.”

Feeling
awkward and ridiculous, he watched her slide the ring onto her ring finger.
They both stared down at how it looked.

“It’s
beautiful,” she murmured again.

He
glanced away, feeling more uncomfortable than ever. He wished she wouldn’t make
a big deal about it.

Then
Sarah said, “We should probably decide on a backstory, in case people ask us
how we got together and how we got engaged and everything. If we keep it
simple, it shouldn’t be too hard.”

Jonathan
was relieved to have a task to work on, and the rest of the trip wasn’t so
unsettling.

***

Gordon, Cyrus Damon’s
long-standing butler, answered the door, smiling at Jonathan with a placid face
and kind blue eyes.

Jonathan
had always liked Gordon. In fact, he was the only member of the household
Jonathan was really looking forward to seeing. But he felt weirdly guilty as he
introduced him to Sarah, calling her his fiancée.

It
seemed wrong to lie to a man like Gordon.

Gordon
greeted Sarah with kind professionalism, said Mr. Damon was on a conference
call but would be out to greet them as soon as possible, and then he showed
them up to a room on the second floor of the west wing of the mansion.

It
was a large, ornate room with a huge old-fashioned bed and lush fabrics. Gordon
gestured both of them in, however, and then the footman trailing them brought
their luggage—
both
of their luggage—into the one room.

“Will
this be all right?” Gordon asked, obviously reading something in Jonathan’s
stunned face.

“I
didn’t think he would want us to share a room.”

Gordon’s
mouth twitched just slightly with what looked like amusement. “Of course, his
preference would be to offer separate rooms. But we’re tight on space because
of the number of guests expected, and, since you are engaged to Dr. Stratford,
he decided this would be appropriate.”

Jonathan
shot a glance to Sarah.

She
was slightly flushed, but she smiled at Gordon. “This is lovely. Thanks so
much.”

Gordon
looked faintly relieved and told them that dinner was at seven.

That
was obviously a reminder that they shouldn’t be late.

When
they were alone, Jonathan looked at Sarah. “I’m sorry about this. I can’t
believe he’s okay with putting us in the same room. I can sleep on the floor.”
He glanced around and noticed a chaise near the window. “Or on that.”

“Don’t
be silly,” Sarah said, far more casually than he felt. “We’re both adults and
the bed is big. It won’t be any trouble to share it.”

Jonathan
agreed, since there was no reason not to. But he couldn’t help but think things
were becoming far more intimate than he’d expected, far more intimate than was
appropriate for two people who worked together the way they did.

Sarah
leaned down to get something out of a bag. “You’ll put something else on for
dinner, won’t you? I mean, they dress up for dinner more than we’re dressed up
now?”

“Yeah.
Usually.”

“We
should say hello to your uncle first, though, right? Before we start to get
dressed. Will you take a shower?”

Her
quick-fire questions sounded a little nervous, and he wondered if sharing a
room had upset her more than she’d let on. Jonathan watched as she rooted
around for something, instinctively taking note of the lush curve of her ass.
Then he noticed, as her skirt hiked up some, the lace top of one of her
stockings.

His
body reacted to the sultry look of the old-fashioned stockings on lovely legs
he’d never even noticed before.

She
always just been Sarah—smart, competent, thoughtful, eminently comfortable.
Exactly the kind of person he wanted to work with. Exactly the kind of woman he
wanted to spend his days with. How she’d turned into this curvy, sexy creature,
he had no idea.

But
his body was responding very inappropriately, and they were going to have to
share a bed.

He
was definitely taking a shower before dinner. Maybe right now.

And
he’d probably be taking another one before bed. 

Sarah woke up early,
since she’d gone to bed early the night before. After dinner, Jonathan had said
he was going to work out in the gym in the basement. Thinking it would be less
awkward to go to bed when he wasn’t around, Sarah had taken a quick shower and
gotten in bed.

He
must have done something other than work out, since he hadn’t come to bed until
almost three in the morning. Sarah had half-awoken when he’d climbed under the
covers beside her but had been too groggy to feel nervous about it.

He
was still asleep now, having just gotten to bed a couple of hours ago. She
snuck a look over at him.

He
slept on his side, facing her, so she could see his relaxed face, mussed hair,
and bare chest. The sheet was sliding down toward his waist, so she could see
a
lot
of his chest.

She
jumped out of bed at the intense way the sight of his sleeping beside her affected
her.

Despite
how deeply she knew it was wrong—knew it was impossible—she wanted to wake up
next to him every day. She couldn’t seem to help it.

 She
showered quickly and, even with the extra time it spent to manage her new
hairstyle, she was ready in just a half-hour. Since Jonathan still slept, she
grabbed her phone and went downstairs.

The
house was quiet. Breakfast wouldn’t be served for another thirty minutes. She
wanted to walk around the gardens, but she stood at the front door hesitantly,
afraid if she opened it an alarm would start blaring.

“I
turn off security at five in the mornings,” a quiet voice came from behind her.

She
turned to see Gordon. He held a silver teapot and smiled at her pleasantly.

She
smiled back, relieved. “Oh, good. Thank you. I’m just going to walk around the
gardens, if that’s all right.”

“Of
course, Dr. Stratford. You’re more than welcome. If you’d like breakfast
early—”

“Oh,
no. Thank you. And, please, you can call me Sarah.”

His
smile seemed to deepen, although it was only reflected in his eyes. “Thank you,
ma’am. But I really can’t.”

She
must not have offended him with her gaff, so she didn’t feel too embarrassed.
She walked outside, found the formal gardens around the back, and strolled
them, gawking at the pristine beds, immaculately trimmed hedges, elegant
statuary, and intricate Rococo fountain while she called her parents.

They
didn’t go to bed until around midnight, so it was early enough to call safely,
even with the time difference.

They
always put her on speaker phone, so they could both hear what she had to say.
She told her mother about some of the new clothes she’d bought and her father
about some of the progress they’d made on their research. She told them she was
in England on a work trip but, since she didn’t want them to worry, she didn’t
tell them exactly what she was doing. They told her that her sister and her
husband were putting in a pool in their backyard and about how her three
nephews and one niece were doing in school.

She
felt better after she talked to them—as she always did. Like, no matter how
foreign her location or how insecure she was about her current situation, she
was grounded by people who loved her no matter what.

When
she hung up, she realized it was time for breakfast and a several-minute walk
back to the mansion.

She
was breathless when she entered the house, afraid she’d been unforgivably rude
by arriving late.

Breakfast,
however, was evidently different from dinner. People must arrive whenever they
wanted. Marietta, the soon-to-be bride, was just coming down the steps as Sarah
entered.

Marietta
grinned at her. “Good morning! You’re out and about early.”

“Just
taking a walk.”

Sarah
had been vastly relieved when she’d met Marietta the day before. The other
woman was very pretty, but not aloof, sophisticated, and ultra-stylish as Sarah
had feared. She had blond hair, gray eyes, and a sunny smile. She was about
Sarah’s height and a couple of sizes smaller, but she wasn’t built like a
model, and she was wearing simple gray trousers and a cute eyelet shirt, which
was exactly in line with Sarah’s tan pants and green ruched top .

Marietta
had a slight, lilting French accent, but she still seemed not very different than
the regular people Sarah had grown up with.

“I’m
starving,” Marietta said companionably. “They always serve the best breakfasts
here.”

As
Sarah responded, they entered the breakfast room and saw that both Jonathan and
Harrison, Marietta’s fiancé, were already at the table.

Jonathan
was reading a journal, and Harrison—a little taller and leaner than Jonathan
but just as handsome—appeared to be going through email on his tablet.

Jonathan
barely glanced up when she came in.

She
wasn’t surprised—she knew how much he focused on whatever took his attention,
so much that the rest of the world faded away. She went to fill up a plate and
pour herself a cup of coffee and brought it over to sit beside him.

“You
two are very social, I see,” Marietta teased, serving a pile of mixed fruit on
her plate. “Practically chatting each other’s ears off.”

Harrison,
who had struck Sarah the night before as very serious and professional, smiled
at his fiancée with a soft expression and leaned over to kiss her when she sat
down beside him.

Sarah
had automatically checked Jonathan’s mug and, noticing it was close to empty,
went to refill it. But she got a little worried when she came back to sit down.

Jonathan
accepted the coffee but still hadn’t acknowledged her existence.

They
were supposed to be engaged. In love. No one was likely to believe their story
if he didn’t make a little effort.

Harrison
had put his tablet away after a pointed glance from Marietta. Sarah wasn’t sure
if it was because he wasn’t supposed to work during breakfast or if he wasn’t
supposed to work when there were other people at the table. Either way, he and
Marietta chatted with her in a friendly way, asking interested questions about
when she’d started working at the lab and where she’d gone to school.

Sarah
was able to answer all of the questions honestly, which made her feel
better—like she wasn’t a complete bitch for lying to these nice people.

“Was
it hard?” Marietta asked. “Moving all the way to Iceland, I mean?”

“Oh
no. We’re working most of the time anyway, and Iceland is an ideal location for
gene research.”

“Why
is that?” Harrison asked. His eyes were beautiful—a soft chocolate brown—and he
wasn’t as intimidating as she’d thought at first.

“Because
it’s such an exclusive gene pool, since the population has been so cut off for
so long from the rest of the world. And they’re crazy about genealogy. They’ve
got records going back for generations. To do the research we’re doing on M.S.,
we couldn’t find a better place. It took a while to get used to the winters and
summers, with the really short days and really long days. But that was the only
hard thing for me.”

She
glanced over toward Jonathan, hoping he would join the conversation and act
like he noticed she was in the room. He didn’t, though, and Sarah didn’t miss
the amused glances Marietta sent him occasionally, as if she were silently
laughing over his behavior.

When
she caught Sarah’s eye during one of those glances, Marietta explained, “It
must be a family trait. For Harry, it’s email.”

Harrison
rolled his eyes, and Sarah just laughed, trying to feign affection when she
really wanted to strangle Jonathan for his stupidity.

This
was
his
family,
his
scheme. Why wouldn’t he rouse himself enough
to at least pretend he knew she existed?

She
leaned over toward him, much farther into his personal space than she ever went
on purpose. Pretending to peer at the page he was reading, she asked, “Good
article, dear?”

“Not
bad,” he murmured absently, “A team in California finished an eight-year
project on the—” He broke off as he suddenly realized what she’d called him and
how close she was to him. He straightened up.

She
tried to give him a discreet, significant look—since they’d never convince
anyone they were engaged if he jerked away from her like that—but it must have
gone over his head.

“Anyway,”
he concluded, after taking a slug of coffee, as if he’d filled in the rest of
the information about the article, “the conclusions are promising.”

Sarah
took the journal from him, pretending to study the article he’d been reading.
Then she didn’t give it back, tucking it under her thigh on the chair.

He
appeared on the verge of objecting, but she silenced him with another look.

When
she looked back at Marietta and Harrison, they both seemed amused by this bit
of byplay. Maybe they’d assume it was just normal snipping between lovers and
not one idiot completely clueless about how to pretend to be engaged.

She
wondered what Jonathan would be like when he was really in love. Would he transform
into an attentive, adoring boyfriend.

Probably
not.

It
wasn’t like he was selfish or heartless. He noticed a lot when he seemed
wrapped up in other things. He’d fixed the wheel on her lab chair earlier that
week and hadn’t said a word about it. He just wasn’t expressive or romantic.

Still,
their charade would be more convincing if he’d act like he was in love with
her.

There
was some noise at the front door, and Marietta jumped up. “Andrew and Laurel
must be here at last!”

 Sarah
had learned last night that Harrison’s brother and his girlfriend had planned
to arrive the day before, but foul weather had delayed their trip. It was quite
clear that both Marietta and Harrison were very pleased about their arrival.
Marietta was practically clapping, and the only thing holding Harrison back was
courtesy. “My brother,” he explained to Sarah, in case she couldn’t figure it
out. “Would you excuse us for a few minutes?”

“Of
course,” she said with a smile. “I’m looking forward to meeting them.”

Jonathan
glanced up but didn’t stand.

As
Harrison and Marietta left the breakfast room, Sarah poked Jonathan in the arm.
Hard.

“What?”
he demanded, looking surprised and vaguely annoyed.

“You
should go greet your cousin,” she said, trying not to sound as annoyed as she
felt.

“Okay,”
he said, frowning as he heaved himself out of his chair. “What are you all
riled up about?”

She
was
riled up, so much so that she wasn’t able to suppress it like she
normally would. She glared at him as they walked toward the door and said under
her breath, “We’re supposed to be engaged. No one is going to believe it if you
keep acting like I don’t exist.”

“What?”
he asked, blinking once the way he did when he was sorting something out in his
mind. His dark brown eyes were focused on her now, and she was so close she
could see very faint stubble on his chin, even though she knew he’d shaved just
an hour ago.

“You’re
acting like I just work with you,” she whispered sharply. “You’re supposed to
be in love with me. I know it’s hard, but can you at least try to pretend
you’re crazy about me?”

He
stared at her for a moment, evidently startled at her defiance. He had reason
to be, since she’d never talked to him that way before. Not once.

They
were standing in the entry hall while the new arrivals were being greeted—the
man who must be Andrew was hugging Marietta so enthusiastically he’d picked her
up. It really wasn’t the time for a fight. Sarah should have brought it up
later, and she shouldn’t have been so vehement. He was still her boss.

And
she really didn’t want to lose her dream job.

Jonathan’s
eyes were strange—focused, alive in a way she only saw when he was caught up in
research. He didn’t respond though. He just reached over, took her face in one
of his big hands, and leaned into a kiss.

Sarah
was so shocked she couldn’t respond immediately. Then she felt a wave of
pleasure wash over her as his mouth moved against hers.

She
wrapped one arm around his neck instinctively and melted against him.

When
he pulled away, she was dazed and breathless and in danger of oozing into a
boneless heap on the floor.

“Is
that better?” he demanded.

That
slapped her back into focus. “That’s fine,” she said, turning away from him,
flustered. She saw that the others had seen them kissing, which was probably
good for their scheme but made her flush hotly just the same.

Andrew
looked a lot like Harrison but had green eyes instead of brown and was quicker
to laugh, quicker to grin. Sarah liked him immediately when he greeted Jonathan
enthusiastically with a handshake that turned into a half-hug and told her
good-naturedly that his cousin didn’t deserve someone so smart and beautiful.