Secrets & Seductions (16 page)

Emma had a right to be interested in anyone she wanted, but the idea of her being attracted to someone like Stevens made bile slosh around in Morgan's gut like the cafeteria sludge they called coffee. As he swallowed hard, she and one of the other women, still chatting, bussed their trays and left the cafeteria.

The moment he caught himself sliding down in his chair in order not to be noticed, Morgan's decision was made.

 

When Emma concluded her preliminary interview with a couple who were interested in adopting a baby from Russia, she circled her desk and shook both their hands.

“Thank you so much for coming,” she said, handing them each a business card to go along with the brochure they had reviewed together. “If you have any questions at all, be sure to contact me and I'll find the answers for you.”

The couple, both in their thirties, already had one adopted child. When they left her office, the man's arm was curved around his wife's waist.

Emma sat back down and stared blankly at the framed Portland Rose Festival poster she'd hung on the wall. One of the few difficult aspects to this job was constantly dealing with happy couples. Sometimes Emma felt like the only single on Noah's ark.

“Daydreaming on company time?”

Morgan's voice made her entire body jerk with surprise. Blushing, she looked up to see him leaning against the door frame in much the same way as Dr. Stevens had yesterday. Her reaction to the two men was, however, poles apart.

When the surgeon had shown up, her initial mild feeling of flattery was quickly overshadowed by annoyance for being interrupted. Now Morgan was here. Even though he was her boss and the director of the clinic, and even though she was growing more accustomed to seeing him on a daily basis, her body persisted in reacting as though her former lover and the man she couldn't forget was coming back to claim her.

“I was thinking about my last clients,” she replied calmly as she folded her hands on her desk. “What can I do for you?”

Morgan surprised her by scowling. “There's something we need to discuss.” His tone was clipped. “Would you have time to stop by my office before you leave today?”

Though he had worded it as a request, she didn't get the impression that refusing was an option. Did he intend to fire her?

“Of course.” She lifted her chin. Since he wasn't smiling, neither did she. “Five o'clock?”

“Fine, I'll see you then.” For a moment he stood in the doorway gazing down at her through narrowed eyes, as though he intended to say something more. Instead, with a nod, he turned and left.

Emma was left to wonder why he wanted to see her. In case her initial suspicion was correct, she set about completing her work. To that end, she switched her computer to the pertinent screen and set up a file for the couple she had just interviewed.

She expected the afternoon to crawl by, but instead it flew. After she had saved her last report and looked at her watch, she was surprised to see that she had barely enough time to freshen her lip gloss before walking to Morgan's office. Gathering up her determination, she logged off her computer and pushed back her chair.

When she approached the reception area a few moments later, she was surprised to see that Cora's chair was empty, her desk cleaned off and her monitor on screen saver. It had been Emma's impression that the other woman never left early.

She peered around the corner to see that the door to Morgan's office stood open. She felt as though she were about to enter the dragon's lair. Tucking her purse beneath her arm, she sucked in a deep breath, eager to get this meeting over, no matter the outcome.

When she reached the doorway, she recognized Morgan standing at the window with his back to her. His tan linen suit jacket hung over the nearby chair and his hands rested on his narrow hips. He seemed to be engrossed in the view.

“Excuse me,” she said softly, not wishing to startle him.

When he turned around, his expression was considerably more welcoming than she had expected from their earlier exchange.

“Emma!” he exclaimed as though he'd forgotten all about his summons. “Welcome. Come on in.”

“Where's Cora?” she asked warily.

“She had to leave, something about one of the kids.” Just as he had the first time Emma had been here, he waited until she sat down and then he took the chair facing her. She had no idea if that was a good sign or not, so she held her purse in a death grip on her lap as she waited to hear what he had to say.

“How have you been doing?” he asked. “Any problems?”

She leaned forward. “I love this job,” she said. “Everyone here is wonderful. I enjoy the work. As I learn more, I think I can make a difference.”

When he remained silent, she babbled on. “If you've heard any complaints, I hope you'll be up front with me. Give me a chance to fix whatever is wrong.”

For a long moment, Morgan just looked at her. “Is
that what you think this is about?” he finally asked. “Some kind of progress report?”

Puzzled, she sat back in her chair. “Well, isn't it?”

Instead of answering her, he surged to his feet and shut the door firmly.

Dread curled in Emma's stomach as she waited for him to fill her in. He rested his butt against the edge of his desk, his hands braced on either side of him and his legs stuck out in front of him. For the first time, it registered on her radar that his tie was missing and the sleeves of his striped shirt were rolled halfway up his forearms. His hair looked as though he'd run his fingers through it repeatedly.

“If I wanted to talk to you about work, I wouldn't have asked you to come in when you were done,” he said. “The workday ended five minutes ago.”

He straightened up and began prowling around the room in an uncharacteristic gesture of nervousness. “Are things improving with your folks?”

She nodded, puzzled by his obvious restlessness. “Sure. They love me. I'm dealing with the realization that they did what they thought was right. I don't agree with what they did, but I'm trying to accept it.”

He appeared pleased when he nodded. “And being adopted?” he probed. “Have you accepted that?”

“I've been working with someone. She's got a lot of experience in ferreting out people's birth records.”

Now that Emma had a steady job, the search was
back on. “She hasn't discovered anything yet, but I'm not giving up.”

“Ah, Emma,” he sighed. “Whatever you're paying, I'm afraid it's a waste of money.”

“Well, it's my money.”

The silence stretched between them. She tried to accept the fact that it was no doubt far too late for the two of them to be anything more than colleagues. What she really wanted to do was to throw her arms around him.

“I don't blame you for not telling me what you know,” she said instead, fiddling with the catch on her purse. “If nothing else, working here for the past three weeks has helped me to understand that.”

Even though she wasn't looking directly at him, she could sense his sudden tension. She raised her head, surprised at the intensity of his gaze.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough. “You don't still resent me for that?”

“No,” she repeated. “Do you still resent me for what I tried to do? I told you the truth. What happened between us…” A sudden swell of emotion blocked her throat, closing off her ability to continue on. “Well, no matter.”

“You mean when we made love?” he asked softly as he bent down so that his face was close to hers.

“Yes,” she choked, tears filling her eyes. Being so near to him was sweet agony. Before he had become her boss, he had stolen her heart.

“Emma,” he rasped, reaching out to lift her chin with one finger.

When she looked up, she knew from the stark hunger in his gaze that he meant to kiss her. He pulled her to her feet and straight into his arms.

With his face mere inches from hers, he hesitated. “Emma, is this what you want?”

Would he resent her later for tempting him to cross the line, right in his own office? Emotions in turmoil, she placed her hands on his chest. Should she welcome his embrace or push him away?

Helpless to resist, she tipped back her head. “You're what I want.”

W
hen his arms closed around her, the firm muscles of Morgan's chest felt so good beneath Emma's palms that it was almost more than she could do to resist. All she wanted was to melt against him, but she knew with sharp clarification that giving in to this momentary impulse could cost them both later.

She refused to be the reason for him to feel guilty or regretful.

“No,” she said, “you've misunderstood. I'm sorry, but this isn't a good idea.”

He froze. His arms fell to his sides and he closed his eyes as though he were in pain.

“You're right, of course,” he groaned, raking his
fingers through his hair. “I don't know what I was thinking. Hell, I
wasn't
thinking at all.”

“Don't beat yourself up.” She struggled to keep her voice light, to keep her eyes free from tears. “It was a momentary lapse, an impulse. Please don't think I would ever tell anyone or cause you any problems because of it.”

If she didn't get out of here in the next thirty seconds, she was going to jump him. Her hormones were raging, her body screaming. “I would never do that.”

“What are you saying?” His eyes were dark with some emotion she couldn't read. Frustration? Anger at her for tempting him?

“I know how you feel about fraternizing with the help,” she stormed as her own frustration boiled over to match his. “Don't beat yourself up for making a pass, okay? It happens.”

A muscle jumped in his cheek. “Is that how you see it, as some kind of cheap pass?”

Jeez, he looked ready to explode.

“No,” she cried. “That's how I figure
you
see it. I won't have you blaming yourself for breaking that high-and-mighty code of honor you prize so highly. Just so you know, the help wasn't unwilling, okay? She wanted to grab you by the ears and kiss you!”

Mortified by what she'd just admitted, she scooped up her purse. “I've got to get out of here,” she muttered, heading for the door. “Firing me or
whatever the hell you had in mind will have to wait until office hours tomorrow.”

 

As soon as Emma got home, she took a hot shower, as though that could wash away the memory of what a fool she'd made of herself in Morgan's office. All she had meant to do was to put him at ease, but instead she had succeeded in letting him know how much she ached to be with him.

Poor guy! Because of her, he'd probably never ask an employee a personal question again.

The weather had shifted today, taking one of those detours from summer that the northwest was known for. The sky outside her bedroom window was overcast. Despite the ten-degree temperature drop, her apartment was stuffy from being closed up all day. She pushed the back window open but left the draperies shut for privacy.

If she still had a job tomorrow, she might start hunting for a nicer place. Out by the hospital complex were several newer high-rises. But right now the last thing she wanted to dwell on was real estate.

After she dried herself off from her shower, she opted out of getting dressed again. Instead she slipped into clean undies and a short terry-cloth robe.

Although the scene with Morgan had ruined her appetite, she figured that she'd better eat something. After popping a frozen dinner into the microwave, on loan from her mom, she poured a glass of iced tea.

The bell from the oven sounded at the same time that someone knocked on her door. It was the right time of day for either a salesman or a kid peddling candy to raise money for soccer. Good thing chocolate didn't tempt her unless it was laced with peanut butter.

Curious, Emma looked through the peephole. All she could see was a bouquet of daisies, so she hesitated with her hand on the knob.

Ivy always called before she came by and she was more likely to bring pizza than posies. Maybe it was Emma's dad. He was big on giving her mom flowers all the time.

Or maybe a stranger was trying to trick her. She slipped the security chain on the door, but she knew from watching Oprah when she'd been out of work how easily it could be broken if someone was really determined. Perhaps the Rose City was under siege from some deranged man who got into the apartments of women living alone.

Emma could be the next victim of some serial bouquet bandit, or worse. The only things the women at her lunch table had buzzed about today was the shoe sale at Nordstrom's, the new Spider-Man sequel playing at the Cineplex and the unattached nurse from the fertility clinic who was obviously pregnant.

As Emma hovered by the door with her hand on the knob, debating her choices, the knock sounded again. This time it was louder, making her jump.

Feeling vulnerable in her robe, she sidled closer
and peeked out a second time. As though her caller had realized his error in blocking her view with flowers, he moved them so she could identify him.

When she did, her heart climbed into her throat and stayed there, thudding louder than any knock on the door ever could. Swallowing hard, she nearly collapsed against the panel, afraid to draw the obvious conclusion for fear of letting herself in for a major disappointment.

She clutched at the fabric of her robe. If she took the time to grab some clothes, he might give up and leave and she didn't have either his cell number or his address.

Sucking in a deep breath, she freed the chain and stuck out her head. He was already walking away, still dressed in the tan slacks and striped shirt he'd worn to work.

He turned when he heard the door open.

“I'd given up,” he said as he faced her, still holding the daisies. “I figured you must have gone out.”

She was shaking so hard that her teeth nearly rattled. She had to bite her tongue to keep herself from telling him that he would never have to give up on her again, if only he would give them another chance.

What if that wasn't why he was here?

“On your way somewhere?” she asked, looking pointedly down at the flowers. “Need some water for those?”

He didn't smile as he stepped closer. With one hand braced on the door frame, he leaned down, his gaze riveted on Emma's mouth.

Heat flashed through her. In half a heartbeat, she wanted him as badly as she had back at the office.

“I haven't been able to get you out of my head,” he growled, sounded defeated. “Let me in, Emma, please.”

Wordlessly she stepped out of the way. He walked past her, shut the door and tossed the bouquet of daisies onto the coffee table. Then in one swift movement he turned and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her completely off the floor.

She held him close and whispered, “I missed you.”

“You're so beautiful,” he said hoarsely. “I hope you know that this has nothing to do with work or job security. Or— Oh, hell, I can't think what else. If you want me to go—”

Emma pressed a finger to his lips, stopping the flow of words. “I know all that,” she replied. “Now shut up and kiss me before I burst into flames.”

For the first time since that night in the cabin, Morgan's expression relaxed into an unabashed grin. Tipping his head, he complied with her urgent request.

He kissed Emma ravenously, and she gave as good as she got. With his body pressed to hers as close as paint on a fender, he walked her toward the couch. They bumped against it and he set her down. She freed the buttons on his shirt and started on his belt while he kicked off his loafers and came back to her mouth.

He grabbed handfuls of her robe, pulling it up until his fingers reached her skin. In seconds they had stripped each other bare, grasping and groping as they fell together onto the couch. Emma's last coherent thought before her mind shut down was the daisies. They'd wilt for sure without water. She wrapped her legs around Morgan as he shifted, trying to protect her body with his as they slid to the floor in a tangled heap.

 

“Would you believe me if I said that's not why I came here?” he asked. They still lay on the floor with his arm beneath her head as Posy watched them from a nearby chair.

“Right now I'd probably believe whatever you told me,” Emma replied. Her hand rested on the smooth skin of his bare chest. Beneath her palm she could feel the steady beating of his heart. Good thing her front curtains were shut, or the kid selling candy might have gotten an eyeful.

She sat up and reached for her robe while he pulled on his clothes. Despite her brave words, she was terrified that he'd only come by for some quick sex and now he meant to leave.

“Why did you show up at my door?” she asked once they were seated on the couch.

He took her hands in his. “I made a mistake.”

Her heart shot right down to her toes. “Excuse me?” What if he'd only intended to bring her some paperwork and gotten sidetracked?

He must have seen her go pale, because he tightened his grip.

“I should have listened, back at the cabin, but I was feeling duped and stupid. I came over here to suggest that we start over. Drinks and dinner.”

Gradually the meaning behind what he was saying sank in. “Drinks and dinner?” she echoed, returning his smile. “How about soda and frozen pizza? It's all I've got to offer until payday.”

 

They had to talk. Morgan refused to get sidelined again.

“Come here for a moment,” he said, taking her hand when she stood up. “The pizza can wait. Hell, I'll take you out if you'd like, anywhere you want to go.” With his free hand, he patted the worn couch cushion next to him. “Before anything else, please sit down. I have something to say.”

For a moment she hovered, wide-eyed. Then, biting her lip, which was already swollen from his kisses, she perched on the other end of the couch, looking as though she might bolt any second.

If he had completely misread the situation and all she really wanted was occasional, mind-blowing, gear-stripping sex, as in “friends with privileges,” he would have to change her mind. A man could sure as hell find himself in a worse situation, perhaps, but he wanted more.

“We've probably got more strikes against us than
any two people who were thrown together on a reality television show,” he began. “We haven't always been fair with each other, or completely honest. We started out on the wrong foot, we took a detour into the woods, and I wouldn't listen or give you my trust when you asked for it. Now we've tossed another complication into the mix because you've come to work for me.”

“When you rack it all up like that, it sounds pretty overwhelming,” she agreed with a sad little shiver to her voice. “Don't blame yourself. You had every right to hate me, but you offered me a job instead.”

“I could never hate you.” He reached over and took her hand. “You're brave and funny and smart. You've been through a lot, but you're still standing. You haven't lost your smile.”

His grip tightened and he figured it was time to take a chance for the first time in his well-ordered life.

“The truth is, I can't stop thinking about you,” he admitted. “I want more than the occasional glimpse in the hall or the cafeteria.”

He took it as an encouraging sign when she gulped and her eyes filled with tears. “You want to come over once in a while?” she asked.

His nerves were already raw. The implied insult behind her question smacked him alongside the head, followed immediately by a wave of righteous anger that made him leap to his feet as he wrenched loose of her hand.

“If you can't think more of me than that, at least think more of yourself,” he blazed.

She popped up beside him with her chin thrust out. “Don't you dare yell at me, just because I put what you want into words that I didn't bother to dress up with a bow.”

His anger cooled as quickly as it had flashed through him.

“It's not some secretive affair that I'm after,” he said, struggling to lower his voice. “I want to start over again with you, to put behind us the mistakes we've both made, if you're willing. And, God help me, to stay out of the sack, if we can manage it, while we get to know each other better in other ways.”

The astonished expression on her face cheered him up so much that he couldn't resist a grin. “If that doesn't work,” he added, “we can go back to your scenario, the one where we sneak around and meet for sweaty sex in seedy motels.”

Emma's lips curved into a smile. “I never said a word about seedy motels, but I suppose we could add that part if you want.”

“Are you telling me that you're willing to give me another chance and see where this leads?” he asked hopefully.

Emma looped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, stirring an immediate reaction below his buckle. “I am,” she said. “Before we start
your plan, could we go back over the part about sweaty sex one more time?”

 

“What do you think?” Emma asked, twirling around before the cat sitting on the foot of her bed.

If Posy was impressed by the new pale blue slip of a dress, she hid it well behind her unblinking stare.

Since that first evening at Emma's apartment, she and Morgan had spent every moment they could getting to know each other. Although they tried not to be obvious, rumors were flying at Children's Connection. Morgan didn't seem to care.

“Too many google-eyed stares,” he'd said to her with a grin and a shrug. “Try to keep 'em under control, sweetie.”

Now that she and her parents were not only back on speaking terms, but making genuine progress in understanding each other's feelings, they were dying to meet him. Emma was curious, too, about the people in California.

Last night he'd driven up I-5 to Seattle for a seminar today at The Four Seasons. He'd invited her to go along, but she had already promised to help out at a baby shower for one of her new friends from work.

Morgan had called her this morning before she left and again during his lunch break. He was coming straight here from his three-hour drive back. She wondered if he had given thought to the fact that, as
of tonight, they had officially been seeing each other for two weeks.