Engaging the Boss (Heirs of Damon) (9 page)

“Is
he?”

The
tense note was even stronger now in his voice, so her attempt at misdirection
hadn’t worked.

She
peeled off her panties and pulled on the lace thong, wondering how women wore
this kind of sexy underwear all the time. She felt weird and uncomfortable in
it, but at least it would save her from pantyline.

She
sat down to pull on her stockings. Those she was starting to like. They made
her feel sensual and old-fashioned, something she almost never felt.

“What
happened with him?” she asked through the half-opened door. “With Ben, I mean. Why
is he so down on the family?”

She
stood up and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair needed
brushing, she needed to put on lipstick, and her curves were a little too
curvy. But still, she was surprised by how pretty and sexy she looked in the
underwear.

She’d
never had that experience looking in a mirror before.

“What
does it matter?” Jonathan asked from the bedroom.

She
was so distracted by looking at herself that she’d lost the thread of the
conversation. “What?”

She
unzipped the dress and stepped into it, sliding it up over her body.

“Why
does it matter why Benjamin is angry at all of us?”

“I
guess it doesn’t.” She didn’t know why Jonathan was in such a bad mood, but it
was starting to get on her nerves. “I was just curious. No need to snap my head
off.”

She
tried to contort herself to zip the dress up the back, but it was so snugly
fitted that she was afraid she might rip a seam. So she came out with it
unzipped.

She
was about to ask for help when she saw what Jonathan was doing.

He
was looking at her ereader.

“Hey!
That’s private!” She ran over to him and tried to snatch the ereader out of his
hands.

He
easily eluded her hands. “You wouldn’t tell me what you were reading,” he said,
as if that were some sort of justification.

She
shook with indignation and made another lunge for her ereader. She ended up
tackling him, and they both landed in a tumble on the bed.

“That’s
mine,” she raged. “You don’t get to just go in and read it.” She kept grabbing
for the little device, and she finally managed to get her hands on it. “It’s an
invasion of privacy.”

“Sorry,”
he said. His tone had changed now, and it sounded warm, like he wanted to
laugh. “You wouldn’t tell me what you were reading.”

“That’s
not an excuse.” She tried to sit up, since she was sprawled out inelegantly on
top of him. She was suddenly aware that he was big and alive and masculine and
on the bed.

“Evidently,”
he murmured, his dark eyes softer than she’d expected, “You like to read about
vampires having very kinky sex.”

She
flushed hotly and tried to push herself up, her hands braced on his broad
shoulders. “That’s none of your business. They’re very popular books.”

His
hands had settled on her waist, as if he were going to help her up. But he
didn’t. “I guess a lot of people like to read about vampires having very kinky
sex.”

“There’s
a lot more to the books than the sex,” she explained, strangely mesmerized by
the look in his eyes.

It
looked almost like he was going to kiss her.

He’d
kissed her last night, on this very bed. She’d kissed him. She wanted to do it
again.

But,
no, she was wrong about him again. He hadn’t been thinking about kissing her.
He lifted his eyebrows and asked, “Why is your dress hanging open?”

She
sucked in a surprised breath and climbed off him, her cheeks burning with new
embarrassment and her chest aching slightly in disappointment.

She
really needed to stop expecting something good to happen between them. It was
never going to happen.

“I
needed help with the zipper,” she explained, turning away from him. “Would you
mind?”

He
stood up without speaking and slowly pulled up the little zipper, his fingers
strangely gentle for such a big man. She had to move her hair so he didn’t snag
it near the top.

She
shook a little when he finished, and her breathing had gotten ragged.

She
was so, so stupid. She wanted Jonathan so much, when she’d always known she
could never have him.

She
took longer than necessary to pick out a pair of heels, mostly so she could
hide her face. Then she put on a simple strand of pearls and some earrings.

Jonathan
was waiting when she was ready, his shirt more wrinkled than ever.

Automatically,
she reached over to smooth out some of the wrinkles before she buttoned his
suit jacket.

They
went downstairs without speaking, and they’d entered the large, crowded
receiving room and gotten their pre-dinner drinks before she remembered she’d
forgotten to brush her hair.

***

Jonathan was having
trouble keeping his hands off Sarah, so much so that it was becoming
ridiculous.

She
looked particularly gorgeous this evening with her tousled hair and sleek
dress. He knew what she was wearing underneath it. He’d seen the lace bra and
the top of what he was sure was a thong as he zipped the dress up for her.

What
he’d really wanted to do was take the dress off.

His
distracted state was not improved when Sarah drifted away from him while he was
making small talk with an old family friend and went over to talk to Benjamin,
who was leaning against a wall on the far side of the room and clearly
appearing too bleak and intimidating for many people to greet him.

Sarah
showed no reluctance. He’d seen from the window that afternoon when she’d been
walking back to the house with Benjamin. They’d seemed very chatty then—as
chatty as Benjamin could ever get.

They
seemed very chatty now. Sarah was smiling at him warmly, as if she liked him.

Jonathan
was self-aware enough to know that the brewing tension he felt was jealousy.
Possessiveness.

Sarah
was supposed to be his fiancée. Even if it was just a ruse, she was still more
his than Benjamin’s.

His
cousin had no right to move into his territory.

Sarah
wasn’t his territory, however. She wasn’t his fiancée. She worked for him, and
she had every right to talk to any man she wanted.

But
surely she wouldn’t blow their whole plan by flirting with his cousin.

She
came back over to him before dinner, letting him introduce her as his fiancée
to a number of the guests. She was quiet and courteous, and she didn’t seem
particularly uncomfortable being surrounded by so many strangers.

She
would fit in fine here, he realized with an odd twist of his gut. Everyone
liked her. His family liked her.

Maybe
more than they liked him.

When
they went into dinner, he got another unpleasant revelation. The Damons always
placed guests in the old-fashioned way, with couples not seated together.
Gordon, probably recognizing that Sarah had made more of a connection to him
than anyone else, had placed her next to Benjamin, while Jonathan was all the
way down a very long table.

So
Jonathan had to watch as they talked all through dinner. Benjamin didn’t seem
to do much talking, but he looked at her a lot. He even smiled occasionally.

Sarah
had called him Ben, as if they were close.

Jonathan
was torn between stewing with irrational jealousy and telling himself it was
ridiculous all evening. When dinner was over and they went back into the grand
parlor for more mingling, he was unsettled, disoriented, and exhausted.

He’d
had enough of mingling. Sarah was still talking to Benjamin—they’d been joined
by Harrison and Marietta so at least it wasn’t an intimate conversation. She
seemed perfectly happy, not even aware of his absence. His uncle was holding
court on the other side of the room and hadn’t spoken to him all evening.

Jonathan
just slipped away.

He
could only handle so much socializing before his head exploded, and his
confused feelings for Sarah made him want to explode in a different way.

He
felt weirdly lonely, for no good reason. He never felt that way. He didn’t like
it.

The
only distraction he could come up with was going back to the media room to play
Sea and Sky.

It
was dead silent on the third floor, so he sat on the floor, took off his
jacket, loosened his tie, and cued up the game.

He
wasn’t sure how long he’d played—maybe an hour or so—when he heard a feminine
voice say in the doorway, “There he is. I told you he’d be up here.”

He
looked over his shoulder and saw Sarah coming into the room with Benjamin
behind her.

She
smiled at him, although her eyes were unusually sharp as she studied him, as if
she were trying to figure out what he was feeling.

He
didn’t want her to know what he was feeling, so he just offered her the second
joystick.

She
took it, sitting down next to him as she had the evening before. Her skirt
hiked up too high, and he automatically pulled it down for her so Benjamin
wouldn’t have an inappropriate view of her luscious thighs.

“You
could have shared your escape route with us earlier,” Benjamin said, coming
over to sit on the edge of the couch. His eyes landed on the large monitor.
“Damn, I haven’t played this game in years.”

Jonathan
opened a drawer and found a third joystick, giving it to Benjamin in what he
thought was a remarkable act of family charity, since he’d much rather play
with Sarah alone.

The
three of them started to play the game without any unnecessary niceties or
small talk. All of them were skilled players, and Jonathan was soon absorbed in
maintaining his lead. An hour passed quickly, until they were interrupted by
Harrison and Andrew.

“Is
the mingling still going on?” Sarah asked, as the two men came into the room to
see what they were doing.

“It’s
wrapping up,” Andrew said. “People are starting to head to their rooms.” He
looked bored and a little tired, but he perked up when he saw what they were
playing. “Wow! That’s a blast from the past. Can I play?”

“Sure,”
Sarah said with a welcoming smile. “Did you want to play too, Harrison?”

Harrison
was chuckling under his breath, but he agreed to play, just to be polite, he
explained.

“We’re
not starting over for the two of you,” Jonathan said a voice that brooked no
arguments. “But we’ll spot you both 50,000 points so you’ll have a fighting
chance.” He dug up two more joysticks and tossed them over.

Andrew
snorted. “You won’t have any sort of chance. I used to be good at this.”

Sarah’s
dress was hiking up again, so Jonathan pulled it down once more. She slanted
him a slightly embarrassed look and readjusted herself. “Maybe I should go
change clothes,” she murmured, looking at him as if she wanted his opinion.

He
was about to say they’d wait for her, since it couldn’t be comfortable sitting
on the floor in that dress, but Benjamin said, “I wouldn’t. You’d be too far
behind by the time you got back from changing.”

She
shrugged, and they all focused on the game again.

Jonathan
was surprised by how good a time he had, since he thought having his cousins
around might be annoying. But they were all good-natured, and no one was
distracted by conversation. Despite the skill and coordination of his
competitors, Jonathan still held onto the lead.

Sarah
was almost as good as he was, and she got more and more intense as she had to
fight to stay in second place.

He
hadn’t realized she was so competitive before.

Eventually,
Laurel and Marietta came in. Laurel wanted to play, and Harrison offered to
give up his spot to Marietta, since the game only allowed six players. Marietta
said she didn’t know how to play, and she’d be happy to just watch instead.

“It
doesn’t seem right that Harrison gets a cheerleader,” Andrew grumbled, when
Marietta started to praise and clap for every kill that his brother made,
“while my girlfriend is ruthlessly trying to trounce me.”

Jonathan
found himself laughing with the rest of them—which was an unusual enough
circumstance for him notice.

He
won the first two games, but they were now on their third.

Harrison
and Andrew were hurling insults at each other, and occasionally at him. Laurel wasn’t
as good as the rest of them—since she hadn’t had as much practice as a
child—but she was watching and evidently taking mental notes, since her playing
kept getting better and better.

Benjamin
wasn’t talking, but he was completely absorbed in the game, and he would
occasionally smile when someone said something funny or when he made a
particularly good move.

Sarah
had raised herself up onto her knees, rocking with the intensity with which she
maneuvered her joystick. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail with a band
she’d borrowed from Marietta, and she seemed completely unconscious of her
elegant clothes or her undignified position.