Tempting The Boss (11 page)

After handing him the money, she climbed out of the cab. Her legs wobbled as she tried to steady her weight.
Get to the door, Victoria. Get to the door.
One step at a time, she got closer and closer to the pristine white door and leaned into the doorbell.
She was here. She made it.

She set a hand on the doorjamb to help herself stand upright.
If her damn legs would just stop shaking…

The door opened and Dean’s mouth dropped open. “Victoria?” As he appraised her, his face fell and he must’ve known something was up. “What happened?”

She opened her mouth, but nothing managed to come out. Instead, the tears that she’d barely managed to beat back in the cab resurfaced.

Dean didn’t hesitate and pulled her into his arms. “Victoria,” he murmured into her hair. “Is everything okay?”

As his big arms wrapped around her, surrounding her with warmth when all she felt was cold, she couldn’t hold it back any longer. Deep, anguished sobs escaped her, and she pushed her face tightly into his shirt.

His arms squeezed tighter, and he pulled her fully inside, pushing the door shut with a foot. Once they were both in, he pulled back and brushed her hair away from her face as he looked down and at the wreck she was.

“Did someone try to hurt you?” he asked.

Oh, God. Someone was trying to kill her.
She’d completely forgotten. What a stupid thing to forget. “My dad died,” she blurted out. “He was fine yesterday! Well, not fine, but he was there…”

“Shit. I’m sorry,” muttered Dean.

“It’s just—I don’t know why I didn’’t expect it. The guy was in the hospital for nine days! Simon and I did all this talking and planning, but somehow I never believed it would happen.”

“No one can prepare for these things.” He rubbed a hand up and down her back.

“Of course I wasn’t prepared. I hardly thought about him at all! Instead I threw a party and went on a trip and did everything but worry about him!”

Dean’s hands rested on Victoria’s neck and tilted her head back to look him straight in the eye. “You were coping the best way you knew how,”” he insisted. “You mentioned how hard your father worked for the company. He wouldn’t want you sitting at his side all week.”

She blinked and sniffled in a particularly unladylike fashion. He was right. It was the same thing she’d been telling herself all week, but it helped to hear it from someplace other than her mind. “You’re right.” She stepped back and wiped away the trail of tears that ran down her cheeks. “I can’t believe I came all the way out here,”” she muttered.
Dean must think she was insane.
Here he was probably enjoying his weekend, and she’d barged into his home, crying like a maniac.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked.

“Not since breakfast.”
How long ago was that?
She didn’t even know what time it was. She’d gone to the office for some of the bodyguard interviews with Gordon and made it to the hospital a little after one. And that’s when it all went to hell…

“Let me heat something up for you. Nothing fancy, but I have a steady supply of frozen food,” he said with a crooked grin.

Now she not only barged into his home but was making him cook for her? “I should probably go.”

Dean reached out and wrapped his big hand around hers. “Come on. I’ll cook you a gourmet dinner of chicken fingers and you can relax for a little bit.”

“Well…it’s hard to say no to chicken fingers.” She ran her fingers through her hair. In truth, she really didn’t want to go home. At first, she thought she and Terry would go off to drink and reminisce about Dad, but then Joslyn had come to the hospital and dashed any hopes Victoria had of using him for support.

Joslyn had been nice enough to invite Victoria to their apartment for the night, but Victoria couldn’t bring herself to be the third wheel on such a sensitive night. She’d insisted she had work to do and wanted to focus on something else.

But when she’d gotten into the cab, she’d found herself directing the cab driver off Manhattan and to Dean’s small house.

“I’m a complete mess,” she said softly. “Is there a bathroom?””

He pointed to a door right off the stairs. “There you go.”

She nodded and retreated into the tiny bathroom. There was just enough room for a pedestal sink and toilet, but it was all she needed. After she shut the door, she leaned back and took in a few deep breaths.
What a messed-up day. And now here she was with a man she barely knew. What the hell was she even doing?

In some ways, Dean knew her better than anyone. He had seen how determined she was to keep Green & Sons running smoothly and was one of the handful of people who knew about the recent attempts on her life.

She hadn’t even told Simon about that, and she normally told Simon everything. Victoria squeezed her eyes shut. Too much raced through her mind. She just needed peace and quiet and to push all this shit out of her head.

Her eyes snapped open and she looked in the mirror. As expected, her eyes were red and puffy, and her mascara was basically gone. She ran the water and splashed the cool liquid on her face. As soon as she thought she was gaining some semblance of control, her thoughts went back to when the doctors had given her the official announcement…

No. Damn it.
She needed to pull herself together. Dean didn’t need to think she was any more of a basket case than she’d already shown him.

She’d walk out and have a completely normal, not awkward dinner with her handyman turned bodyguard turned lover.
Not awkward at all.

With a shake of her head, she finished drying off her face and hands. After smoothing out her skirt, she untucked the short-sleeved, silk shirt. It wasn’t meant to hang loose along the tight pencil skirt, but she needed comfort right now. Considering the state she was in when she came knocking on Dean’s door, she didn’t think he’d mind seeing her clothes off-kilter.

Feeling a bit more together, she took a steadying breath and walked out into the hallway. Immediately, a stocky red dog circled her ankles. “Hey, buddy,” she murmured as she bent forward to stroke his head.

“Rigby, leave the woman alone!” shouted Dean from the kitchen.

The dog obediently switched his attention back to the kitchen and scurried away.
Had Rigby been there before she’d gone into the bathroom?
Victoria frowned and tried to force her head to clear.
Sane. Just be sane
, she told herself.

She followed the clanking of dishes to where Dean was throwing some plates into the dishwasher. He must’ve heard her approach because he turned around when she entered.

“Sorry for the mess,” he said with a sheepish grin.

There was so little counter space, it was almost impossible not to have a mess. Everything looked clean enough, but the microwave, toaster, and small stack of mail gave the room even more of a claustrophobic feel. Even in her Manhattan apartment, the kitchen was bigger. But maybe it just looked small because Dean took up so much room.

He wore jeans and a navy blue t-shirt, and she’d never met someone who looked so good in casual clothes. As he reached up to pull out a clean set of dishes, his muscles moved beneath the thin cotton fabric and Victoria’s mouth went dry.

She knew exactly how great he looked without a shirt. How those muscles felt under her fingers as he thrust in and out of her. Her heart beat faster and heat crept up her cheeks. Her fingers rubbed the back of her neck as she tried to force the thoughts out of her head. Dean and she had both agreed anything between them was over.

“Food should be ready in ten minutes,” he said over his shoulder. “Did you want anything to drink? I have beer, water, and diet soda.””

“Beer.” She almost wished he had something stronger but didn’t want to push his kindness any further.

He pulled two glass bottles out of the fridge and popped off the caps. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him as he moved. Somehow this seemed so much more intimate than any of the other times they’d been together.

Here in his home. In his domain.

He handed her a bottle and she wrapped her lips around the top to take a deep gulp. After taking a deep gulp, she asked, “Where’s Katy?”
Remember, the young girl who could walk in at any moment and was the exact reason she shouldn’t be thinking about using Dean in all the ways her mind remembered?

“She’s at a friend’s for the night,” he said.

Shit. There went that idea.
“It’s cool that you have the place to yourself.”

His eyes darkened and she mentally kicked herself. Now he was thinking of sex too.
Damn it.
Her father just died. She should be home, surrounded by work or a box of tissues or both. Not here in a tiny kitchen with the sexiest man she’d ever met.

“We have it to ourselves,” he corrected, his voice deep and husky.

She took another deep gulp of beer. “That’s nice to know.” Her mind swirled with thoughts she wasn’t supposed to be having.
Stop looking at his stomach. Stop looking at his shoulders. Just talk to him like a normal person
.

Silence stretched between them for a few minutes. “If you want, I can turn on the TV while I finish cooking,” he offered.

Great. Now he was trying to get her out of the kitchen.
If she wanted to sit alone in front of the television, she would have gone back to her own apartment. She needed this contact. She needed it from someone she didn’t have a massive history with like Terry, who wanted something from her, or Simon, who she paid to listen to her. Dean, for whatever reason, seemed to actually enjoy being around her. Sure, she paid him too, but it was different. He saved her before he knew she’d pay him, and he was quick enough to let her stay. But he could just pity her.

“Victoria, just relax. I’m here to help you out tonight, understand? If you want a certain type of food, or drink, or movie, you let me know and I will run out and get it for you.”

Victoria felt herself melt under the weight of his kindness. She didn’t deserve this from him. They only met a week ago, and he didn’t need the responsibility of taking care of her at such a crazy time. But there he was, offering her food and comfort and friendship when she needed it most. “I think I have everything I need here,” she said.

He nodded. “You just let me know. Now, why don’t you take off those high heels and sit down on the twenty-year-old recliner that is a thousand times more comfortable than it looks.” He held out his hand. “Come on.”

Victoria braced herself and slipped her black pumps off one by one. She had to be honest with herself. She didn’t want to sit in an old recliner unless Dean was there with her, no matter how comfortable it might be. Ever since she’d walked into his house, the only thing that had made her feel even the slightest bit better was the comforting feel of his arms around her.

“Dean,” she said quietly as she put her hand in his. “There’s one thing I want.”

He looked down at her. “Anything.”

She eased in closer, until barely a millimeter of space separated them. “I know whatever it was we had is supposed to be over, but…”

His breath caught in his throat. He slowly cupped her face with his hands and tilted her to meet his intense gaze. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,”” he whispered, his words in direct contradiction with his body as his hips pressed against hers.

“Please,” she breathed, not the slightest bit ashamed to beg. She stood on tiptoe to lay a soft kiss against his lips, and he stood stock-still, not moving a muscle. “When I’’m with you, I can’t think of anything but this. Us. I need that right now.”

“Victoria—”

She cut him off with another kiss, this one fierce and for the sole purpose of keeping him from turning her away.

He let out a sound between a moan and a growl, and she knew the instant he gave in as his grip tightened and he angled her in exactly the right way. It was her turn to moan as he pushed her back until the counter hit the top of her hips.

She gave in to the temptation she’d been fighting since she’d gotten there and ran her hands all over him. His biceps. His stomach. And then his muscular shoulders, the thin material of his shirt the only barrier between her and his bare skin.

Dean finally released her for a brief moment as he gripped her hips and lifted until the edge of her ass rested on the counter’s edge, but as she instinctively opened her legs for him, they both realized the tight skirt wasn’t cooperating.

“Damn it,” said Dean as his hands found the hem of her skirt and pushed up, farther and farther until the material bunched at the top of her legs. He stared as if entranced as he parted her exposed thighs. He ran his fingers along the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs and traced the line of her panties.

Her breath caught in her throat as electricity arced through her. She inched closer to his fingers as he slipped them underneath the panties and traced a teasing pattern along the seam of her opening.

Her arms gripped his shoulders and held him tight as he pushed two fingers inside. Her eyes drifted closed as he ran his lips along her neck. As he increased the tempo of his fingers pushing in and out of her, Victoria’s breath came faster and faster. For a perfect moment, there was only Dean and the things he was doing to her. Just the warmth and pleasure of his touch.