Talking Dirty with the CEO (16 page)

Damn him. Fueled by an assertiveness she hadn’t known she possessed, Christie reached up and grabbed his chin, forcing his gaze back to hers again. His eyes widened as they met hers.

“Don’t dismiss me like a child, Joseph Ashton,” she said. “I want to talk to you.” Beneath her fingers his skin felt warm, rough with stubble.

He stared at her, his focus sharpening. “What about?” He didn’t pull away, letting her hold him, and she couldn’t help moving her thumb over his skin, couldn’t help brushing it over his lower lip, the softness in contrast to the roughness of his jaw.

His breath caught. She heard it. And it made the anger inside her, the fear, the doubt, turn into something else.

“What about, Christie?” he repeated, a rough edge to his voice, his gaze dropping to her mouth.

“About the little fact that you walked out on me three days ago without a bloody word. And now you won’t answer my calls or my texts. What the hell is going on?”

…

Joseph stared down at her, looking into big green eyes full of anger and, underneath it, a fearful kind of hope. Her fingers on his jaw sent sparks of electricity through him, his body tightening, ignoring the brain that told it their little affair was over. Oh, no, his body disagreed most strenuously.

And that only added to his temper.

The fact she was even here, filling up his office with her scent and her passionate, stubborn presence, making him want all the things he knew he couldn’t give her, pissed him off so much he could barely speak.

Since he’d left Jude’s apartment three days ago he’d been trying to think of what he wanted to say to Christie. How he would end it between them. And every time he thought he knew, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Couldn’t bring himself to make the move that would let her go.

Procrastination when it came to things that were emotionally difficult for him was another ADHD problem. But he’d never had this issue when it came to calling it off with a woman.

Oh no, it had always been easy. Painless.

Not with Christie. With her it was neither easy nor painless.

For three days he’d listened to her calls. Seen every one of her texts. Felt like the biggest bastard in the world. Knowing that calling her back and telling her it was over was what he needed to do.

Yet still he hadn’t managed to do it. The thought hurt in ways he’d never anticipated.

Joseph reached down and closed his fingers around her wrist, pulling her hand away. “The night of your parents’ party I was supposed to meet my sister for dinner.”

She frowned. “Oh. Well, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It was her birthday.”

“Joseph—”

“But I wasn’t there, was I? I was with you instead. Because I forgot about her.”

Color crept into her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop bloody apologizing. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.” Anger twisted inside him, bright and sharp.

“But if you hadn’t been with me—”

“Stop it,” he interrupted, harsh and unable to prevent it. “The fault isn’t with you. It’s with me.” He took a breath. “I’ve got an ADHD-type thing, which means I get distracted easily. I also have difficulty with remembering things. Like important dates.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “So if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine, okay?”

Christie stared at him. “ADHD? That’s attention deficit—”

“Attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder.”

“But I thought only kids had it?”

“No. Adults, too. I usually have reminders and things in my phone and at work to help keep me on track. But of course that relies on me actually checking my phone.” Which he hadn’t done. Watching her with her parents, he hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything else.

Her throat moved. “I distracted you that night.”

Joseph turned away, going over to the windows, pausing, then continuing on down to the end of the office and back again. He wanted to tell her that she hadn’t and that it didn’t matter, that Jude was used to him forgetting things. But both of those things were lies. And he couldn’t lie to her. Christie deserved more than that from him.

He turned back to her. “Yeah,” he said bluntly. “You did. Jude’s my little sister and she’s put up with my crap for years. And I hate…disappointing her.”

“I—I could come with you and explain things to her?” Christie’s face had gone pale.

He gave a short, harsh laugh. “Thanks, honey, I but I don’t need you to make my excuses for me.”

An awkward silence fell.

Her expression was full of sympathy. As if she wanted to hug him.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said.

“But you’re angry.”

“You’re goddamned right I’m angry. I’ve been letting my sister down for years and I hate it.”

Red lashes, the color shot with gold, fluttered over her pale skin. “If it makes any difference I’m glad you came with me last night. I couldn’t…couldn’t have faced my parents without you.”

“Bullshit, Christie. That strength, it’s been inside you all along. You would have found it yourself one day.”

She took a step toward him. “Maybe. Or maybe not. But you were the one who showed me it was there.”

On the couch his phone beeped again. Another reminder. But he didn’t even bother looking at it this time.

Christie’s gaze had a liquid glint to it. And she was looking at him the way some women did, as if he was everything they ever wanted and more.

And he knew it was too late. That he was going to hurt her.

He turned again, pacing away from her, going over to the windows. His hands squeezed the ball. Squeezed hard. “I say a lot of things, Christie. Most of which I hardly even pay attention to myself.”

He could feel her behind him, the familiar scent of lavender and musk surrounding him. It made him ache with longing.

“You didn’t mean them, then?” An underlying thread of pain in her voice.

He wanted to say no. Anything that would push her away. Because he couldn’t handle this tightness in his chest. This ache in his throat.

It would be easier to deny it. To cut her off now. Be cruel. Be harsh. So that she wouldn’t ever come near him again.

But the thought was unbearable.

He stopped pacing. Turned from the window. She stood just behind him, all her guards down, the naked vulnerability stark in her face. So lovely. Jude had asked if she was special, and she was. Guarded and geeky and passionate and brave.

“I meant them, Christie. I meant every word.”

The vulnerability drained away, brightness filling her expression.

Man, she had to know. He’d told her about the ADHD, a little piece of truth about himself. But she needed to know what it meant. What the consequences were.

He pushed a hand through his hair, the familiar antsy, restless feeling moving through him. “Don’t,” he said softly. “Don’t go making me into someone I’m not.”

“What do you mean?”

“You think I’m some kind of sensitive, wonderful guy, who makes you feel good and special and perfect? Well, you’re wrong.”

“But you do make me feel those things.”

He stepped toward her, looking down into her face. Wanting her to see. To know the truth. “Yes, I make you feel those things now. But in ten minutes, I’ll have found something new to distract me. Someone else to interest me.” He paused. “I’m not someone you want to count on, Christie. I’m unreliable, distractible, and I get bored very, very easily.”

Christie stared at him for a long moment, then abruptly her lashes fell, veiling her gaze. “I see.” A tight voice. “So, what? In a week or so, you’ll have gotten bored of me? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

Now. It had to be now.

“Christie, I’m trying to tell you that I can’t be what you want me to be. I can’t be your boyfriend. I can’t be your anything. This affair between us? It has to end.”

Slowly the color drained out of her face. “What? Why? What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why does it have to end?”

“Because I’ll only end up hurting you. Like I hurt Jude.”

“Because you missed a birthday? Hey, I don’t care about my stupid birthday. I wouldn’t give a crap if you missed mine.”

He wanted to pull her to him. Never let her go. But he couldn’t. She had to know the unvarnished truth of what he was. “It’s not just one birthday, Christie. It’s years of missed birthdays. Years of being stood up. Years of being ignored.”

“I could make you pay attention.”

“No, honey. No, you couldn’t. Not if I didn’t want to.”

“So is that why you’ve been ignoring my texts for the past three days? My calls? Because you didn’t want to pay attention?”

“No. It’s because I procrastinate sometimes. Especially with doing things that are hard.”

“So this is hard for you?”

More painful truth. “Yeah. Like I said, I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her jaw set, evidence of the determination he so admired in her. Then she walked toward him. He let her come, realizing she was going to touch him, bracing himself for it.

And sure enough she reached him, put her arms around him. Pressed her body against his. “So don’t hurt me then.”

All his muscles had gone tight with the need to enfold her in his arms. Kiss her beautiful mouth. Hold her. But he couldn’t. The only thing he could do was protect her.

From him.

Gently he unwound her arms from around his neck and stepped away, steeling himself against the hurt that crossed her face as he did so.

“Joseph,” she said.

“No, Christie. I’ve made my decision.”

“And what about me? Do my feelings not count at all?”

God, didn’t she understand? Her feelings counted. They counted for everything. Which is why he had to do this.

“Of course they do. Why do you think this has to come to an end? I can’t do relationships, Christie, I’ve never been able to.”

“Why not?”

“Why not? Didn’t you listen? It’s not just birthdays and stood-up dates. I get bored. I get distracted. I fixate. At the moment I’m fixated on you but in another week, another month, I won’t be. I’ll lose interest. And then you’ll find I won’t pay attention to you anymore. I won’t listen. I’ll stand you up. Other things will suddenly become way more important than you.”

Christie stared at him, her brow wrinkled, clearly trying to understand. “But you said you manage that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, I manage it. But that’s all.” He stood back. “I can’t stop being this way, Christie, and I won’t suddenly get better. This is who I am. Do you understand?”

She swallowed. “I…I think so. I can handle it, Joseph.”

“Can you? Can you really?” It felt like there was an elephant sitting on his chest, squeezing out all the air. Pressing against his heart. “What happens if six months down the track I suddenly turn to you and tell you I don’t want to see you anymore? That I’m bored with you. Could you handle that?”

The determination in her face didn’t falter. “No.” Her voice sounded small and quiet. “But I could try.”

Yes, she could. It wouldn’t work, though.

He remembered his mother shouting at him. Remembered the punishments she’d dealt out. And the bewilderment he’d always felt because he hadn’t been able to help the things he’d done, driven by the restlessness he couldn’t control. He’d tried to explain it to her once but she hadn’t listened. He still remembered trying because she’d shut herself in the bedroom and wouldn’t come out.

She’d hated it. She’d hated his behavior. And he knew that because he’d heard her crying sometimes. Usually after something he’d done wrong.

And the day she’d left, he knew that she’d hated him, too.

Christie could end up like that. Hating him. And he knew if she did, he wouldn’t be able to bear it.

The weight on his chest moved, compressing his heart. Making it feel like it was wrapped in barbed wire. He made himself hold her gaze. “Yeah, well, that’s the thing. I can’t. It’s bad enough with Jude. I couldn’t handle hurting you. And that’s why you have to leave.”

She stared at him. Determined. Fierce. Then she reached out a hand toward him.

And he knew that if he took it, if he touched her again, he wouldn’t be able to let her go this time. That the selfish part of him would want to keep her as long as his ADHD would let him.

So he moved away.

Her hand dropped. “I don’t want to go,” she said thickly. “Please don’t make me.”

He swore. “You have to.”

“Joseph, I’m in l-love with you.”

The barbs around his heart sank in deep.

Too late. Too late.

“Don’t, Christie. Please—”

“That’s really why I’m here. To tell you that. To tell you I love you. That you make me feel so strong. So good about myself. “ She searched his face. “And that I want to do the same for you. Make you feel the way you make me feel.”

Tell her the truth. How good she makes you feel.

No, he couldn’t. What he had to do was stop procrastinating. End this now. And save them both the pain later on.

“I’m sorry, Christie,” Joseph said, and he made his voice sound hard and flat. “But you don’t make me feel anything at all.”

…

A punch to the gut. No, more like a bus.

What could she say to that? Nothing.

She wouldn’t beg. She wouldn’t plead. She’d spent too many years wanting her family’s approval, their praise and their love, to do the same with Joseph.

Maybe, at one stage, it would have been enough to have a week or two. Or even a couple of months. But it wasn’t now. She wanted more. She
deserved
more. Hadn’t Joseph himself shown her that?

Christie swallowed back the pain. Ignored the cold little animal that had nested in her heart. Lifted her chin. “Okay. If that’s the way you want it.”

Then she turned on her heel and walked out.

Chapter Twelve

Joseph ran. The steady thump of his feet on the treadmill normally soothed him, but not today. Four weeks after Christie walked out of his office and he couldn’t settle. Not on anything. He upped the pace, the sweat pouring off him, running harder, faster.

But his mind was like the treadmill, going over and over the same old ground. Christie’s pale face, eyes gone dark. Pain clear in the depths of them. And her voice.

Okay. If that’s the way you want it.

Liar. It wasn’t the way he’d wanted it. When she’d told him he’d made her believe in herself, he’d felt like more than an against-the-odds success story. More than a brilliant IT genius. More than a guy with ADHD. More than a label.

She’d made him feel like a person. She always had.

But he’d done the right thing in sending her away. He had. If he kept telling himself that often enough, maybe one day he’d believe it.

The door of his office opened and Jude came in.

Joseph cursed. He’d ordered Amy, the receptionist downstairs, to run interference on any visitors, especially visitors like his sister, but something must have gone wrong. Still, he didn’t stop running.

“Did we have an appointment I forgot?” he panted out.

She’d been trying to contact him for weeks now, asking him what was wrong. For some reason she wouldn’t take his “nothing” for an answer.

“No. You’ve been avoiding me so I thought I’d go direct. Beard the lion, etc.”

“How did you get past Amy?”

“I told her there was a courier outside with a huge bunch of flowers for her and he didn’t know where to put them. She couldn’t leave the desk fast enough.”

Slick, that was Jude.

She paused in the middle of the room, arms folded. “I want to talk to you.”

“I’m in the middle of a workout.”

“Actually, you’re in the middle of a meltdown.” Striding over to the treadmill, she punched the button and the machine began to wind down.

Joseph put his hands on the bars on either side of the machine and gave her an irritated look. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not the one being ridiculous. Look at you. How many times have you been on that thing today?”

Five. Maybe six. Not that she needed to know that. “None of your business.” He reached for the towel on the floor nearby, mopping his face.

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

Joseph didn’t look at his sister. “No.”

“Ah.”

“What do you mean, ‘ah’?”

“Well, you didn’t immediately ask who I was talking about. Which means that it’s definitely her.”

Damn Jude. Damn her to hell.

Joseph swung the towel around his neck, stepping down off the machine. “I’m not talking about this now, okay?”

“Why not? Scared?”

“I’m not scared.”

“Yes, you are. You’re terrified.”

He turned away, suddenly viciously angry. The same kind of anger that had dogged him for weeks now. “Leave it.” He stalked over to his desk, picked up the water bottle sitting on the top, and took a long swallow. “I meant to say, got an e-mail from Caleb yesterday. His contract with that UK club is almost up and he’ll be coming home in a month.”

Judith scowled. “Wonderful,” she muttered. “Now my day is truly complete. But can we not talk about Mr. Shag-Anything-That-Moves?” She fixed him with a look so sharp the edges just about cut him to death. “I want to know about this woman who’s got you tied up in knots.”

“She hasn’t—”

“Crap. You’re so wound up all you need is a pair of ears and you could stand in for the Energizer Bunny. What the hell are you so afraid of?”

He let out a breath. Put down the water bottle. “She’s in love with me. That’s what she told me. And you know what’ll happen? One day I’ll miss an important date or I’ll zone out one too many times, or I’ll forget she even existed for a moment. Or even worse, one day I’ll wake up and I’ll find she doesn’t interest me anymore. And it’ll hurt. It’ll hurt her. She doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

Jude stared at him. “And how do you feel about her?”

A slow clench of his heart. “I like her, but that’s it.”

“Rubbish.”

“It’s not rubbish.”

“Sure it is. You feel something for her. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be pushing her away like this.”

He scowled at her. “I’m not pushing her away.”

“Aren’t you? It’s what you always do, you know. When anyone gets close. Caleb and Luke are just about the only people other than your family you haven’t managed to alienate, though God knows you certainly tried hard enough.”

“Jude—”

“No, don’t try to deny it. You push people away, then use the ADHD as an excuse not to have to deal with it.”

He found his hands closed into fists. “It’s not an excuse.”

“Yes, it is. What do you think’s going to happen? That once people find out who the real you is, they’re going to run away?”

“No, that’s got nothing—”

“Not everyone is like Mum.”

He stopped, looking at her in shock. “What’s Mum got to do with this?”

Jude’s blue eyes had that stubborn, uncompromising look they always got when she was going to tell him something she knew he didn’t want to hear. “I know you blame yourself for the way she left.”

“No, I don’t. That was a decision—”

“You do. Even at thirteen you knew how difficult your behavior was for her to manage. Dad was hardly around, so she had to cope on her own. And she couldn’t.”

“I’m not having this discussion.” Joseph turned, walking blindly toward the door of his office, not even sure where he was going. Only knowing he had to leave.

“Don’t push her away.” Jude’s voice was like an arrow in the back. “You say you don’t want to hurt her, but isn’t that what you’re doing now?”

He put his hand on the door handle. “No, I’m trying to prevent her from being hurt any more than she already has been.”

“Are you so sure? Remember how you felt when Mum left? Aren’t you doing to her exactly what Mum did to you?”

He stopped dead, his hand motionless on the door handle.

“You love her, I know you do.” Jude’s voice was very quiet. “And you said she loves you. Don’t throw that away.”

Joseph stared at the wooden grain of the door.

You love her.

Did he? Had he fallen in love with Christie?

“I don’t want to let her down,” he heard himself say hoarsely. “Not the way I have with you.”

“You’ve never let me down. Not when it counted. Not once.”

He wanted to believe that. Wished he could believe that.

Throwing the towel to one side, Joseph stalked out of his office, suddenly needing space. Air. In the area outside, activity came to a standstill as everyone looked at him and then abruptly went back to their tasks.

Jesus, he’d never heard his staff so quiet. And in fact, now that he thought about it, they’d been quiet for the past four weeks.

Afraid of you because you’ve been the boss from hell for the past four weeks.

A barb of agony sunk deep inside him. Yeah, he hadn’t been right for weeks now. Hadn’t been able to concentrate. Hadn’t been able to think. All his reminders had gone out the window and he’d missed some important deadlines because something had distracted him. Something stupid like searching for Gothic metal songs online or trying to find vintage parts for a certain computer on a specialist website. Stupid, irrelevant things.

And now his staff was scared of him because he’d been a moody bastard.

He swore under his breath, took the elevator down to the ground floor, and walked outside. Walking down the sidewalk just because he needed to walk. To move. To get away from the horrible, terrible restlessness that burned inside him.

When would it go the hell away?

He passed a shop and had his attention caught by a pair of shoes in the window. Ugg boots.

Christie.

Something inside him faltered, like missing a step going down stairs, making his breath catch.

You love her, Joseph. Don’t push her away.

And suddenly longing gripped him. A longing so intense he couldn’t breathe.

He missed her. Missed her smile, her quick wit, her laughter, her curiosity, her passion. The way she calmed him. The way he could look at her for hours and not have the restlessness eat away at him. Hell, he even missed her stubborn determination and her spine of pure steel.

He missed her so much it left him aching right down to his bones.

He did love her.

The knowledge of it held him rooted to the spot, an unconscious hand on the shop window, staring at the shoes on display.

He couldn’t let her go. Regardless of what was best for her, what was best for him was her in his life.

Joseph stepped away from the window and went into the shop.

…

Christie was knee-deep in zombies when the phone on her desk rang. She tried ignoring it for a while—the level she was playing in
Zombie Force Online
was a fiendish one—but when it became apparent that whoever was on the line wasn’t going to give up, she cursed and logged out of the game.

“What?” she snapped into the phone with very bad grace.

“Christie?” said Claire, the
Total Tech
receptionist. “You have a visitor.”

Feeling bad because really, Claire was very nice and didn’t deserve such rudeness, Christie made an effort. “Sorry, Claire. Bad moment.” Bad whole month in actual fact, but Claire wasn’t to know that. “Send them through.”

To tell the honest truth she wasn’t that interested in visitors. What she wanted was to continue her lunchtime
Zombie Force
game because God knew there was nothing more distracting than killing a bunch of zombies.

Not that she needed distraction, of course.

No, she was doing very well, thank you very much. Doing well not thinking of him. Not wondering what he was doing or where he was. Concentrating only on work and the new piece Ben had approved, her article on the resurgence of vintage computers and a how-to guide on rebuilding them. She was enjoying it. Even though the computer she’d started restoring sat on her kitchen table, still at the same stage as when Joseph had visited. She just hadn’t been able to face returning to it.

But she would. Of course she would.

At some point in the distant future when her heart had somehow miraculously healed itself.

“Don’t you want to know who it is?” Claire asked and Christie finally picked up on the small quiver of excitement in the other woman’s voice.

“Not particularly,” she said, frowning at the phone. “Is it someone exciting?”

“Oh, yes.” Claire’s voice had descended into a whisper.

And a hand closed around Christie’s heart in sudden foreboding. Oh, God, no. It couldn’t be.

“It’s Joseph Ashton!” Claire continued, sounding like she was just about to burst apart with excitement. “You know, the Ashton Tech guy!
”

Oh yes, Christie knew. And no, she didn’t want to see him. Not now. Not ever. She opened her mouth to say those exact words but just as her brain sent the command to her vocal cords, the door to the
Total Tech
office burst open and Joseph bloody Ashton was standing on the threshold.

Christie felt a wrecking ball land on her stomach.

He was in ratty old sweatpants and a faded black T-shirt, his hair standing up on end as if he’d run his hands through it one too many times, a big white bag held in one hand. He stood uncharacteristically motionless, his eyes glittering like Indian sapphires as they searched for and found her, the air itself slowing down and becoming thick and dense with tension as he stared at her.

The other guys in the office began to realize something was up, heads turning toward the door where Joseph stood, conversations faltering, then falling silent.

“Christie?” he said, the familiar sound of his melted chocolate voice making her shiver.

The collective gaze of the entire office switched to where she sat, rooted to the spot at her desk.

She swallowed, her throat constricting. Her whole body trembled with the need to throw herself into Joseph’s arms and hold on. But she wouldn’t. Regardless of why he was here, he’d told her exactly where he stood on that particular matter. And besides, so what if he didn’t love her? She didn’t care. She really didn’t.

“J-Joseph,” Christie said, trying to sound businesslike. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t seem to notice that every single person in the office was now looking at him, his gaze locked on her. “I need to see you.”

“Oh.” Tearing her eyes from his, Christie moved her stapler and shifted her keyboard more to the center of her desk. “W-well, as you can see, I’m a little b-busy right now so—”

“Please.”

The raw need in his voice made her catch her breath. Her shaking hand shifted a block of Post-it notes.

I don’t care why you’re here. I don’t care what you say.

She gritted her teeth, staring firmly at her computer screen and not at him. Or the assembled masses currently gaping at her from their desks. Christie made a minute adjustment to the placement of her mouse. “I r-really am very b-busy…”

“Please, Christie. Don’t send me away.” An echo of pain in the words. An echo finding an answer in her own heart.

She looked up and found him standing near her desk, looking down at her with such intensity her throat clogged up and the words of denial she’d been going to say vanished from her head.

“I’m sorry,” Joseph said hoarsely into the silence, as if he didn’t know fifteen other people were watching him. As if he and Christie were alone. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. You didn’t deserve that. You deserve… God, you deserve so much better.”

Tears pricked her eyes. Oh, bugger, she was going to cry. Right here at her desk with all her work colleagues staring at her.

“Joseph,” she began.

But he ignored her, dropping the white bag on the floor and stepping up to her desk. Putting his hands on the edges of it, leaning forward to look right into her eyes. “You deserve a better man than me, Christie St. John. You know that, right?”

Her heart seemed to stop. “I-I-I—”

“You deserve someone richer. Kinder. Someone who’ll never let you down. Who’ll never hurt you. Christ—” he gave a short laugh “—you deserve a man who can at least concentrate for more than ten seconds at a time.”