Falling For Her Boss (28 page)
Read Falling For Her Boss Online
Authors: Karen Rose Smith
Instead of getting flustered, she laughed. It was a wonderful sound. Earthy, rich, easy. "I don't have X-ray vision if that's what you're wondering. Most of my male clients under fifty do, over fifty they don't. Once in a while I'm surprised. I'm as capable of stereotypes as the next person."
Zack flicked off his socks. She could laugh at herself. He liked that. Remembering Alicia, he decided to concentrate on those damn ribbons instead. It was safer to think Skye still hadn't grown up rather than focus on qualities he found enticing.
***
Skye held her breath as she watched Zachary Clark tug his shirt from the waistband of his slacks. What was wrong with her? Why was her heart thumping as it did when she rode a double-decker Ferris wheel? This was a client, for heaven's sake! She shouldn't care what color his chest hair might be or where it grew and how. She shouldn't wonder if his stomach was as flat as it looked. And she definitely shouldn't look into those compelling grey eyes and want to teach him everything she'd learned to handle stress.
She often saw men like Zachary Clark in her practice, like him in the sense that action, results, and goals pushed them into physical distress. Maybe she recognized these men so easily because she'd been married to one. The disastrous consequences of that relationship had taught her well. She didn't get involved with men who had no sense of play, who couldn't enjoy the beauties of life like rainbows and bunny rabbits, and who couldn't be depended upon when someone close needed them. That was the ultimate test.
With resolve, she watched Zack's shirt fly open and took a deep relaxing breath. If she tensed up, every nerve in her body would go on red alert. As her eyes swept over his broad shoulders and muscular arms, she told herself it was simply a body--muscle, bone, and tissue, a client like all the others.
Taking another deep breath, she adjusted the small pillow at the head of the table. "Lie on your back with your arms at your sides."
Zack sat on the table and with an uncomfortable look that told her he'd rather jump the Grand Canyon on a motorcycle, he rested his head stiffly on the pillow.
She took another pillow from the shelf under the table. "I'm going to put this under your knees so your back flattens."
He slid his feet back, raising his knees, and she stuffed the pillow underneath. He stretched his legs out again, but still didn't look relaxed.
"Some of my clients like me to massage them in silence so they're in tune with the rhythm of my hands and the effect on their body. Others prefer music. What would you like?"
"Music," he said tersely.
She flipped on the tape player. Classical music softly filled the room. Taking a plastic bottle of almond oil from a side table, she poured a few drops into her palm and smoothed it to her fingertips.
"Close your eyes," she said softly. "Now take three belly filling breaths. Feel the air fill the bottom of your stomach and let it out slowly."
He followed her directions to the letter, and she smiled. He was probably a perfectionist. She could use that to lead him to deep relaxation. "Now, pay attention to your breathing, the subtle rocking motion. While I massage, you're going to let me take care of you. Don't try to help in any way. When I lift your arm, just let me lift it. Don't assist. I'll turn your head if I need to. There's nothing for you to worry about. I don't talk while I massage because words are distracting. But if something I do hurts or you feel cold or uncomfortable, tell me."
She could see his body was still tense--he was swallowing often, his eyelids fluttered every now and then, his fingers curved into his palms. "I'm going to start with your face, then move to your neck and shoulders. I want you to think about your favorite place. Go there in your mind."
She covered his forehead with the heels of her hands, letting her fingers extend down his temples. Applying no pressure but letting him grow accustomed to her touch, she paused for a few seconds.
Those seconds were tough. She was much too aware of his uncovered chest, the bronze nipples, curling black hair that tapered to a lopsided V, every crease and crevice on his face. There were worry lines around his eyes and mouth and she longed to smooth them away, to lay her fingertip in the tiny cleft in the middle of his chin. No, Skye! He's a client. Just do your thing and forget he's one attractive man.
With the pads of her thumbs, she massaged his forehead. Pressing moderately, she continued all the way to the temples and moved her thumbs in slow circles, taking another deep breath, telling herself to use her skill and blank out the texture of his skin and his musky scent.
***
Zack had never been touched this way. At first the heat from Skye's hands seemed to surge through his body and he was sure she'd know he was physically attracted to her. But then there were other feelings and silent communication. The message was one of comfort, caring, peacefulness--such peacefulness he felt himself drifting to another place where all weight fell from his shoulders, where floating was the mode of travel, where peace was life and the scent of strawberries.
As her fingers finished performing magic on his face and moved to the back of his neck, he knew the peace was a gift from Skye Delaney. A wonderful lethargy overtook him and when she lifted his head slightly and turned it to the side, he didn't think of resisting. With each gentle knead of her fingertips, he felt her empathy, her respect for him as a being sharing the human condition. He felt something coming from inside her--confidence, serenity...and sensuality. She overflowed with it.
After his neck and shoulders, she massaged his arms with strokes that penetrated his muscles. She even spent time on his hands. When she asked him to turn over, he did it automatically. She must have pulled the pillow away because his cheek met the cool sheet. He suddenly realized his neck didn't hurt. He hadn't been able to sleep on his stomach for the past week!
With both palms she applied oil to his shoulders, using a simple stroking that was gentle, yet definite and steady. When he felt her elbow rest against his shoulder, he guessed she was pouring more oil.
She was one with her hands as they molded to fit his contours. Her fingers curved and wrapped evenly and smoothly around his shoulders as they sought his back. Her hands seemed to listen to the tissue and bone under the skin, tuning in to the strata of the muscles--thick and thin, tight and loose. When she encountered bone, she outlined its shape. Each movement flowed, one stroke naturally gliding into another. Each pass went deeper. She seemed to find each knot, each sore spot, working and soothing until he felt like melted butter.
His feet were the real surprise. As she worked first the bottom and then the top, he felt the connection throughout his body. He wanted her to go on forever. But she didn't. She stopped.
He felt the rough texture of a towel on his back in long, wiping strokes as it absorbed the oil. Laying it across his back, she said softly, "Keep your eyes closed until you're ready to get up. Don't rush. After you're dressed, come out to the waiting room and we'll make your next appointment."
Zack kept his eyes closed, stealing a few more precious moments of peace.
***
Skye sank into the chair at the front desk and blew at her bangs. She'd done it--treated him exactly as she treated every client. But it had been a battle! When her hands touched his skin, his sinew, his taut strength.... She'd told herself she was simply having a chemical reaction. Yes, she was attracted to him physically. She'd be a fool not to admit it.
She was also old enough and wise enough at twenty six to know chemistry could be ignored, dismissed, or insignificant depending on a man's nature, attitude, or mindset. She was careful about the friends she chose. She was no less careful selecting men she spent time with. It was obvious Zachary Clark didn't have time to nurture himself, let alone a relationship.
Sighing, she pulled her appointment book to the front of the blotter. Hearing Zack's footfalls, she looked up to find him smiling at her.
"I feel great! I never thought I could feel so...calm."
He looked terrific. The lines on his face were less pronounced, his body stance not so tense. She knew posture wasn't his problem. His shoulders were broad, held straight so there was no slouch. So many tall men had never been taught how to stand properly to carry their height and weight. That wasn't Zack's problem. His situation was probably caused by spending too many hours in an inadequate chair while he hunched over his desk. Add daily stress...
"That calm is what you need heavy doses of." She took a business card from the top drawer and held it out to him. "This store sells office furniture designed by orthopaedic doctors and physical therapists. The chairs are made to support the back. What are you using now?"
He took the card and stopped to think. "Just a standard desk chair."
"Try several of these chairs and you'll find one perfect for you. You'll never want to sit in anything else." She ran her finger down the blocks on her appointment calendar. "I had a cancellation for Wednesday at three."
"I have a staff meeting at two thirty. You don't have anything Thursday?"
"No, I'm going out of town."
He frowned. "Wednesday it is."
"There are a few exercises I'd like to show you."
He pulled out his checkbook and tore out a check he'd apparently written beforehand. "I don't have the time now. Wednesday will be fine."
"Mr. Clark..."
He laid the check on the desk. "Chad's practice was over ten minutes ago. I have to run." Raising his hand in farewell, he said, "Thanks. I'll see you Wednesday."
Skye stared at the screen door as it slapped behind him. Zachary Clark might be one attractive, well built human specimen, but if he didn't soon make his own health a priority, his stiff neck might become a permanent part of his everyday life.
***
Tuesday afternoon, Zack wolfed down a sub at his desk while he examined the accountant's projected profits for April, May, and June. They looked good. He leaned back in his chair and smiled. And he felt good. Hardly any stiffness.
Wednesday's schedule stared up at him from his desk. He didn't have time for a massage tomorrow, and he didn't need it. His smile thinned to a frown. Yes, the massage had gone well. And he'd felt more relaxed than he'd ever felt in his life. Her hands were magic. But...
He didn't like the idea of becoming dependent on Skye Delaney. Everything about her seemed a little too magical. Especially the serenity that flowed from her. She moved...quietly. She talked slowly. Nothing about her rushed. Not even her smile. It settled on her mouth and bloomed, then lingered. More than once he'd wondered what those lips would taste like, whether or not she'd be so peaceful when aroused.
He reached for the phone to cancel his appointment.
By the time Zack left work and picked up Chad at a neighbor's, he was rubbing the back of his neck. By the time he tucked his son into bed, the nagging pain told him to reject the idea of balancing his checkbook at his desk. By the time he woke up Wednesday morning, he again could not turn his head far. But pride and determination kept him from calling Skye Delaney.
Until he sat in a straight backed chair through the staff meeting. Afterward he realized pride was an unworthy price to pay for discomfort. He dialed Skye's number.
The receptionist informed him Skye had left for the day. She would not give him Skye's home phone number but offered to call Skye at home and ask her to call him.
Impatient, Zack looked up Skye's name in the phone book. She wasn't listed. He had no choice but to wait and hope she hadn't left town yet.
When his secretary buzzed him, Zack snatched up the receiver.
"Mr. Clark? My receptionist said this was an emergency."
As before, her voice was friendly, soft and calm. Now that he had her on the phone, he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted. "I was hoping you had office hours this evening."
"Usually I do. But I'm leaving for Philadelphia tonight. In fact, I'm on my way out the door."
He wondered how he'd feel if a client delayed him from leaving on a business trip. "Uh, I'm sorry to hold you up, but I don't suppose you could give me a quick massage?"
He expected some type of eruption. He was met by silence. "Skye?"
"You're uncomfortable again."
He couldn't decipher the tone of her voice. Resigned was the only word he could think of to define it. "Yes. It's as bad as when I came in to see you." Plus, he now had a pounding headache.
"That's why I scheduled you for an appointment today. An appointment you cancelled."
Her reminder annoyed him. "You knew this would happen?"
"I told you you needed more than a massage. But you felt better so you decided you didn't need any of it."
"So sue me! I didn't realize--"
"Mr. Clark--"
"Zack," he snapped.
"Zack," she acknowledged, obviously to placate him. "I have to leave now because I'm picking up a colleagues in Lebanon. We'll have to check in at the hotel tonight and I hate to be the one to delay us all. I'm sorry but I can't give you a massage tonight."
She sounded as if she cared. But there was nothing she could do, and he wouldn't let her know the extent of his pain. "That's okay. I shouldn't have bothered you at home."
"Do you have a headache?"
Lying had never been his style. "Yes."
Silence again.
He ventured, "Will you have office hours Friday?"
"No. I won't get back until Friday around four." She paused. "But I'll make you a deal."
"What kind of deal?" he asked warily.
"I'll agree to schedule you for a massage Friday after I get back, if you promise to attend the workshop I'm giving Saturday morning on stress reduction and relaxation techniques."
"That's blackmail!"
"That's my offer. What will it be, Zack?"
