Sleeping With the Boss (12 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Will flipped the omelet over in the pan, turned the heat down, and disconnected his call with Chance. He hadn’t expected the third degree when he called in “sick” today, but when his brother figured out he was actually calling in “well,” all was good. He grinned at how “well” he actually felt. His whole body hummed with satisfaction. She was nothing short of amazing. Claire had woken him for another board meeting as the sun came up.

Grinning, he popped down some toast, divided the omelet onto two plates, and poured a couple of cups of coffee.

“Smooth Operator” sounded from his phone. Evidently, he was going to have to tell Michael that he was off the job for a while. But that could wait. He hit the ignore button.

“Hey.”

His heart gave a surprising lurch at the sound of her voice. “Hey, yourself. Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling great.”

He noticed her hair was wet from her shower as she climbed onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar across from him.

“You look great.” He dropped a piece of toast on her plate and placed it on the bar along with the cup of coffee. She took a sip as he placed his plate and cup next to hers, then walked around to join her.

He ran his hands possessively over her ass and kissed her neck. “I’m glad you stayed last night. I can’t believe I even considered taking you home.”

“Momentary lapse in good judgment and common sense.”

“No doubt.” He slid onto the stool next to her. “I’m glad you persisted.”

“I’m nothing if not persistent.” Her phone went off in her back pocket. She yanked it out and glared at the screen. “Ugh. Heather’s driving me nuts. She’s persistent, too.”

So was he. He wanted as much of this woman as he could have for as long as he could keep her—and he wanted it interruption-free. No phones, brothers, or best friends. He’d been thinking about getting her alone and away from regular life all morning, and he had the perfect plan. “Can you take time off from your packing for a few days?”

She bit a hunk off her toast. “Depends on the incentive package, Mr. Anderson.”

He almost stooped to the level of making a package joke, but resisted. “I’ll make it worth your time, I promise.”

“Overtime?”

“As much as you can stand.”

She laughed. “Hey, wait. You promised swans.”

He picked up his plate and coffee mug, then grabbed the entire loaf of bread. “And Miss Maddox, I always deliver. Follow me.”

They spent the rest of breakfast sitting on a bench tossing bread to the swans that were mucking around in the reeds just off his deck while they talked about the remodel of his home and laughed. They laughed a lot, which is exactly what he needed most. Because of this woman, his broken soul had healed more in the last week than it had over the previous eight months. She was a drug and he was completely hooked. The DT’s when she left would be excruciating.

He studied her as she scolded one of the cygnets for swiping a crust from another and marveled at his good fortune.

And she’d agreed to spend time with him. He knew exactly where he wanted to take her and needed to make arrangements. Plate and mug in hand, he stood. “I need to make some calls. You good here?”

“I’ve never been better,” she said, “subtext intended.”

“Subtext appreciated.” He leaned down and kissed her. He wanted to just drop the damn plate and go back to the bedroom, but a swan nipped his shorts and gave them a tug, killing the impulse. She giggled and the swan honked. “I know when I’m not wanted,” he joked. He turned to the swan, which had grown to be the size of its parents, but still was tinged with its baby gray. “I see the gratitude I get for letting you camp in my yard.”

Will watched her continue to feed the swans through the patio door as he made a series of calls he hoped would make for the best weekend of her life yet—of
their
lives. This was for him as much as her. He’d devote himself to finding the spy when he returned, but first, they both needed some R & R.

…

Claire was surprised when Will was in too big a hurry to fool around after breakfast, and even more surprised when Jacob pulled into the driveway in the limo.

“No bike this time. I don’t want to leave it at the airport until Sunday,” Will said, strolling into the living room and opening the front door. “You ready?”

Holy crap.
They were flying somewhere. And Sunday meant they’d be there three days and two nights. “Um, no. I don’t have a change of clothes or anything.”

“Already taken care of,” he said, gesturing for her to lead to the limo.

“Good morning, Mr. Anderson. Great to see you again, Miss Maddox,” Jacob said, opening the car door.

Claire ducked in and caught her foot on the rim of the door, just like before. Evidently, Will had anticipated the Claire-ism and wrapped his arms around her from the back before she crashed to her hands and knees.

“It
is
a good morning,” Will said, still holding her from behind. “Thanks, Jacob.” He released her and she moved to the seat at the back of the limo, heart hammering, not only from her near fall, but from having his big body mashed against her back.

“I’ll have you at MacArthur in no time. I talked to Dan and they’re ready for you.”

Will settled next to her and the door closed, making it much darker inside. Before they were even out of the driveway, he pulled her into his lap and kissed her, running his hands all over her body and bringing back awesome memories from last night and this morning. “Sorry we had so little time before we left.” He slid his hand inside her thigh, rubbing just hard enough to make her squirm. “I’ll make it up to you.”

She pulled back, wanting some answers before he got her too turned on to think straight. “Where are we going?”

“To paradise.”

She rolled her eyes. “God, that was cheesy.”

He grinned. “I wasn’t speaking metaphorically. Where we are going really is paradise. You’ll like it.”

“It was still cheesy,” she said,

Before long, Claire found herself hand in hand with Will, traipsing across a parking lot to a plane waiting next to a big metal garage-like structure. She’d only flown on commercial airlines, so the prospect of a private jet was unnerving. “Are you going to fly this?”

He squeezed her hand. “No. We have a pilot.”

Well, thank goodness.
She hoped her concern didn’t show
.

He shot her a sly smile. “We can work on your fear like we did with the boat thing.”

They reached the steps to the plane and he gestured for her to lead. Once inside, she sat in a plush leather seat that looked like a living room recliner with a table in front of it. A seat across the table faced hers and that’s where Will plopped down.

A man in a navy suit boarded and shook Will’s hand. After he introduced him to Claire as Dan Schlosser, the family pilot, the man went to the front of the plane and closed the door dividing the pilot’s area from the passenger space.

She searched her seat for the other part of her seat belt and snapped it shut.

“Do you need some positive association right now, or will you make takeoff?”

“I’m good.” A little nervous and excited, but good. When they left the limo, he’d told her to call those who would worry and tell them she was with him and would be back on Sunday night, late. She’d left a message for Heather. As she thought on it now, it struck her as pathetic. There was only one person in her life who would worry or even notice she was gone.

Will gave her a reassuring smile across the table.

Well, now there were two people.

“The flight is around three hours,” Will said. “Just long enough for lunch and…”

“A board meeting?”

“If it fits the agenda.”

She couldn’t imagine any physical contact with Will Anderson not fitting her agenda.

Chapter Fourteen

They landed several hours later, after they’d shared a lunch of turkey sandwiches, swapped childhood stories of their worst teacher experiences, and had a Claire Project board meeting that would have her begging to fly again soon.

“Sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Anderson,” the pilot said. “Welcome to the Bahamas.”

“Thanks, Dan. We’ll be out in a moment.”

The pilot disappeared out the small door into the brilliant light.

Claire sat bolt upright. She’d expected something down the Eastern Seaboard, not something tropical.

She met Will’s eyes and he gifted her a full-dimpled grin. “Surprise!”

She gasped and hopped out of her chair. She’d never been to a tropical beach. She made a failed attempt to finger-comb her hair and make herself presentable, but she was way beyond that.

He chuckled and rose to stand behind her. “But you don’t like surprises, right?” He pulled her back against him and slid his hands under the front of her shirt, making a yummy sound as he cupped her breasts. “Asking you to dinner that first day was the best decision ever.”

Taking Heather’s suggestion to work at Anderson Auctions was the best decision ever.
He pushed tighter against her back and she squirmed.
Thank you, Heather.

She’d anticipated going to a hotel when they got in the car, but instead, found herself at a harbor, then on a small motorboat alone with Will. They zipped through crystal-clear water, wind whipping through her hair and sea spray on her face, as he drove them who knew where. She felt no fear at all. Maybe it was because it was a small boat and didn’t have that ocean-liner disaster-movie feel, or maybe it was because of Will’s arm around her. And for the first time, Claire felt truly free. No one to take care of. No financial worries. No fears of the future. Hell, she didn’t even know where they were going. She was living right here, right now, and she loved it.

Will tied the boat off on a small pier jutting from the white sand into the water, then helped her out. She was pleased she made it without falling or something typically Claire. “Whoa, it’s beautiful!” she said as he joined her on the weathered wooden walkway over the water and across a perfectly white expanse of sand.

He winked. “Welcome to Anderson Island. Clothing optional.”

Her jaw must have dropped or her eyes bugged out of her head or something because he chuckled. “There is usually a caretaker, but I called her and gave her the weekend off to hang with her family. She went to the store and stocked up the essentials and left plenty of food. There’s a satellite phone I use to reach her here, at the house.”

Which explained why he had left their phones in the limo. “This is your island?”

“Not completely. It belongs to my brothers and me. My mom and dad have gifted the three of us most of the Anderson properties, and the auction business of course.” He led her up the pier past a generator toward the largest in a cluster of brightly colored concrete houses with thatched roofs.

The main house was classy and comfortable. Three bedrooms and a kitchen opened off of a central living space that was clearly made for entertaining. The ocean breeze blew through, ruffling the gauzy white curtains.

“It’s incredible.”

He held his arms out and she walked into his embrace. The Bahamas, New York City, or anywhere in between—there was nowhere else on earth she’d rather be than in his arms…not even Egypt.

“How about a swim?” he suggested.

“I don’t have a swimsuit.”

He laughed. “Neither do I.”

And then it dawned on her why he said she didn’t need anything. It was his own private nudist beach.

…

Will loved the blush that ran up her neck and face as she figured out why she didn’t need changes of clothes. To acknowledge that her two-plus-two did actually add up to four, he pulled off his shirt and shucked his pants right there in the living room. He scooped them up and pitched them into a chair. “Let’s go for a walk on the beach.” He then helped her by pulling off her shirt and removing her bra.

“Um, are you serious?”

His body was reacting to her gorgeous half nakedness, making him rethink the walk. He gestured to his rising erection. “Don’t I look serious?”

She laughed and he untied her warm-up pants. She stopped him before they fell down her legs. “I’ve read all about you, Will. The reporters get shots of you everywhere. I even saw pictures they’d taken of you and Beth on a beach by stalking you from a boat somewhere. I don’t want to go strolling down the beach naked if the world’s most humiliating Claire-ism is possible. I really don’t want to be in the tabloids. I know you’re used to it, but I’m not.”

Will consciously un-balled his fists. He would never get used to it—to the prying eyes and judgmental statements. Beth used to tip off the local society reporters when they were going out and it angered him beyond belief. “I absolutely hate reporters and the press, and avoid them at all costs. Beth was the reason I was in the papers. I would never interact with them willingly, and I wouldn’t put you in a situation like that.”

She nodded. “Fair enough.” She slipped off her shoes and shoved her pants down the rest of the way. Then she stood uncomfortably nude only a few feet from him. Hopefully, by the end of the weekend, she’d never be uncomfortable naked again.

“Let’s go check out the beach.” He grabbed two towels on his way out the door and they wandered down the soft white sand, hand in hand. He made no attempt to hide his open admiration of her body, and it wasn’t too long into the walk that they ended up turning back around to head inside so he could give her a tour of the bedroom, with a focus on the bed in particular.

…

Claire couldn’t help but ogle Will’s muscular body as he sauntered into the bathroom. He undoubtedly had the finest backside ever. She couldn’t recall ever having this much fun. In fact, she was having so much fun, it was all she could do to not roll onto her belly, pound the mattress with her arms and legs, and scream into the pillow. Instead, she attempted to get out of the bed and ended up on all fours on the floor because she had jelly knees. When Will came charging out of the bathroom with a worried look on his face, she broke out into a ridiculous case of giggles.

His furrowed brow relaxed and his dimples made an appearance. “Are you okay?”

Still on her hands and knees, she nodded. “Oh, yeah. Just a little post-orgasm Claire-ism.”

And that set them both to laughing.

He helped her to her feet and pulled her against him. She ran her hands over the hard planes of his chest and down his ridged abdomen. God, what a lotto win. Body, brains, and humor. The whole shebang in one edible package.

“Well,” he said, kissing the top of her head. “What do you want to do now? Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.”

What exactly did she want? “I want a shower.”

“Done.”

“And food.”

“Easy.”

But what she wanted wasn’t easy—not really. What she truly wanted was Will. To keep getting to know him and having fun together like this. To get naked and roll around in the sand until they looked like powdered sugar doughnuts, then rinse off in the ocean and make love in the waves. But what she found herself wishing increasingly with each passing minute was that this was more than just a fling. She wanted all of him, even his heart. But that was impossible. Her future was the Cairo Museum, not William Anderson.

Pushing down the longing for something out of reach was familiar to Claire. She’d done it her whole life. What she couldn’t suppress, though, was the hope she was feeling—something she hadn’t dealt with before. Something that made her dream about a happy ending for once.

After a shower that left both of them satisfied, and very, very clean—especially certain parts—they shared a plate of cold chicken, Bahamian peas and rice, and white wine on the porch. The sun was setting over the ocean in brilliant streaks of tangerine and magenta, looking more like a painting than real life. In fact, at this moment, with the sea breeze in her face and this amazing man by her side, nothing felt real. Even her impending trip to Egypt.
If only…

Claire finished off her wine and set the glass next to her empty plate. God, she felt good. Too good. So good, she was willing to say what had been on her mind since before their shower, something her newfound hope had put there. “Come with me.”

Will smiled across the small table. Wrapped only in a bath towel, and with the sunset reflecting off the skin of his face and broad chest, he looked like a bronze statue. “Where? To the beach?” He arched an eyebrow. “Back to the bedroom?”

There it was. Her chance to play down her blurted out deepest desire, or go all in.
All in.
“Egypt.”

His smile stayed in place, but everything about him tensed. Not just tensed. It was as if he had recoiled from her one, simple word.
Shit
. She’d rushed this. It was too soon. Hell, maybe it would never have been the right time.

The high she had felt only moments ago plummeted out of the sky like Icarus, wings blazing. In her happiness, she’d flown too close to the sun.

She would not cry in front of him. “Excuse me for a moment,” she said, wrapping the towel tighter around her and rising from the wicker chair. “I’ll be right back.”

When she got to the bathroom, she slumped to the floor. Surely this wasn’t a deal killer. She’d surprised him. Hell, she’d surprised herself. She did want him to go, but a trip like that was a commitment. Maybe he wasn’t ready to go there yet. After Beth had screwed him over so bad, maybe he would never be ready again.

…

Will paced the tile floor of the porch, feeling borderline panicky, like he did right before a mission.

Why Egypt?
There were very few places on earth he refused to go. Egypt was one of them. Never, no matter how compelling the reason, would he ever set foot in a fucking desert again unless it was to defend his country.

Or your heart?

Sand and heat and misery filled his memories. For years, with only a short reprieve in the middle, he’d had sand in his eyes and up his nose. Grit had coated everything he ate—every surface he touched.

Not even for Claire would he go to a desert. Will had very few absolutes in his life, and this was one. And that was the real problem here. He couldn’t go with her, so he wanted her to stay—to give them a chance. He wanted more.

He slumped back down in his chair and buried his face in his hands.

This was a woman who had sacrificed her teens and early twenties to take care of a sick and dying family member. She’d kept her hope alive by dreaming of a trip to a place that had fired her imagination as a child. She’d endured a hell worse than his in many regards. Only where he’d made it through the horrors by imagining a life with Beth at the end of the nightmare, she’d had Egypt as the carrot that kept her going.

And he’d be damned if he got in the way of someone’s dream when he’d had so many of his own shot down. He couldn’t go with her, and she deserved to know why. He had to let her follow that dream, but until that time, he’d make the most of it. Of her.
Starting right now.

“Claire, may I come in?” He rapped gently on the bathroom door. Man, he’d handled this wrong. She’d extended her trust and he’d fucking sat there stunned silent and crushed it…again. He tried the knob and it wasn’t locked. He cracked the door open an inch or so. “Hey, I really want to talk to you.”

“Come on in.” She sounded good. Not like she was melting down.

He pushed the door open and his heart stuttered. She was sitting on the floor, still in her bath towel, legs kicked out in front of her crossed at the ankle. Her face was a little blotchy, but other than that, there was no evidence of tears. She was tough. A fighter.

Towel still around his waist, he sat across from her and leaned back against the cabinet. “I’m sorry.”

She held her hands up. “No.”

“Stop. You wouldn’t let me apologize last time at your apartment. This time, you’re going to hear me out.”

Her mouth snapped shut.

Oh shit
. He had her attention, but what the hell could he say that didn’t fuck things up worse? He hadn’t planned this out; he’d acted on impulse…like she had.
That’s it.
She’d spoken from her heart and he needed to do the same. “I need to explain my reaction out there.”

When she took a breath and opened her mouth, he held a finger up and she fell silent.

“I know you think it’s because I don’t want to go with you or because it’s too rushed, or I don’t like you enough, or whatever lame excuse you have for me cooked up in your head, but you’re wrong.”

He reached out and put his hand on her slender ankle next to his thigh. “There’s only one reason I won’t go…can’t go.” He rubbed his hand up to her knee and back down to her ankle before crossing his arms over his chest. “Egypt is a fucking desert. I can’t do deserts, Claire.”

Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t say anything.

“I want to be with you. It’s why I brought you here. You and I both have acknowledged this is special, am I right?”

She nodded.

“But no matter how special this is, going with you is out of the question. I swore if I got out of Afghanistan in one piece, I’d never set foot in a desert again. Well, I got out. I was lucky, but I can’t go back. Even with you.”

“Oh, God, Will. I hadn’t even thought about that.” She may not have been crying before, but whether from relief or compassion, a tear breached the rim of her eye and slid down her face. Will kissed it away and pulled her into his arms.

“This trip to Egypt is a pilgrimage for you and I think it’s important you go. The internship is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It’s not like you’re being deployed and will be cut off from email and cell coverage. Hell, you’ll probably get sick of hearing from me within a week.”

She laughed. “I doubt it.”

He took her face in his hands. “Thank you for asking me. I can’t even tell you how much that means.” He stood and helped her to her feet. “But I’d like to show you. How about joining me for a swim in the ocean?”