The Boss's Daughter (2 page)

He flipped open the computer case on the desk, confirmed the laptop lay inside, and zipped up.

“Well, I’ll be off.” He hadn’t looked at his watch since the moment he’d walked in the door the first time. He might possibly miss his flight. Ward didn’t care as she led him along the hall again.

She opened the front door, draping herself against it as he exited. Her full breasts almost spilled from the lapels of her silk robe. Leaning her head to the side, she smiled.

She held him spellbound and incapable of saying more intelligent than “Thanks again.”

“My pleasure.”

He had to go. Backing up, he almost tripped off the porch step. God, he was an idiot.

“Did you put the key back?”

“Huh?” An idiot
and
a great conversationalist.

“The key. Under the rock. Holt leaves it for me because I’m always losing it.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He juggled the laptop case to his other hand, picked up the rock, and dropped the key into its hole.

“Bye now.”

Okay, go.
Ward flashed her a besotted smile.

As he turned to jog down the front path to his car, she added, “I hope you enjoyed my little show.”

Shit. She’d seen him.

Chapter Two

Cassandra closed the front door and leaned back against it.

What a delightful surprise. Preoccupied with business the past few weeks, she’d neglected her sex life, except for her daily orgasm. That wasn’t a sex life; it was just looking after her health.

Ward Restin made her realize how long it had been since she’d indulged herself. The moment she’d sensed him, her sexual tension had skyrocketed. She’d performed for him, arching, squirming, moaning. The climax had been intense, better than most she gave herself.

Being watched was definitely a major turn-on for her.

Tall, with a lanky body and short brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses, black suit, black tie, and white shirt, he was a geek. And that made him utterly cute, God only knew why. He even drove a staid foreign import—which he’d parked along the curb in front of her rental car. His fluster piqued her interest. It actually got her hot.

She’d risen from the bed the moment the front door closed with the intention of peeking out the front window. But he’d made a noisy second entrance, talking loudly on the phone to no one. Cassandra smiled. He was so transparent, red-faced and embarrassed, trying to hide that he’d been watching her.

Hmm, he was older than her, maybe forty, but she liked older men. This, however, was the first time she’d been attracted to...a geek. A cruel description? She didn’t feel cruel. What she felt was the first kick of attraction when you met a new man, when your pulse races and your breath comes faster and your skin is sensitized to everything. Such a delicious phenomenon. He was corruptible. She could get him to do things he’d never imagined. While she was here on business, there was nothing that said she shouldn’t have a little fun, too. Cassandra was giddy considering all the possibilities.

He liked to watch. She could definitely use that in whatever plan for him she came up with.

* * * * *

“Dude, you’re late. I thought you were going to stand me up.” Occupying the window seat, Spencer Benedict turned off his cell phone after one last check of his messages.

The plane’s configuration was two seats on the outside, three in the middle, and Ward slipped into the aisle seat beside Spence. The rest of the passengers had already boarded as Ward dashed down the gangway.

He blew out a breath and pushed his glasses back up his nose. They’d slipped down in his rush. “Holt’s laptop,” he said, stowing both computer cases under the seat in front.

Spence spread his hands. “What the hell? You left early to get that.”

He mumbled something like “I couldn’t find it.”

Spence merely raised a brow. A knowing light glinted in his green eyes. His dark red hair attested to his Irish ancestry, but he kept his past to himself. A short but powerfully built man, his nose was slightly crooked as if he’d had it broken once, or even twice. Despite being good friends, the extent of Ward’s knowledge was that Spence had fought his way out of a tough New York City neighborhood, put himself through college, and worked his way up through various companies until he came to West Coast three years ago as VP of Marketing and Sales.

Spence possessed an uncanny ability to read people, and he read Ward with one glance. “Don’t give me any crap, just tell me what happened.”

Ward had never wanted to emulate Spence, who was a little on the cocky side, but he admired how his friend thought. Spence wasn’t afraid of anyone and was sure he could accomplish anything. He possessed the ability to charm women into doing whatever he wanted. He was never serious about anything except his career and his job. He claimed he’d never been married, but Ward had always felt there was a story behind that. With an amazing bullshit meter, he never let anyone get away with even an ounce of crap.

And he wasn’t letting Ward get away with it. “Your cheeks are red like your mama caught you with your hand in the cookie jar.” He winked and lowered his voice. “Or up the little girl next door.”

Ward gave a wry smile. That was close to the truth. He’d been caught watching the girl while she did it all. Caught? That implied something bad, yet Cassandra Montgomery had obviously enjoyed his voyeurism.

“Jesus Christ,” Spence said softly. “If that smile means anything, you better tell me or I’ll have to break your fingers.”

“I discovered Holt’s daughter in a compromising position.” He didn’t talk about his sexual exploits, mostly because he didn’t have many. Not that he would have discussed them anyway. Even Spence, who invariably found some hottie at a conference or a sales meeting, didn’t reveal all like a teenage boy. And they certainly wouldn’t talk disparagingly about the boss’s daughter.

“Do tell.”

“No specifics.” Ward was interrupted by the flight attendant coming through the cabin to check seatbelts. He’d forgotten to fasten his. The task done, he added, “But she had a profound effect on me.”

Spence scrutinized him. “You want her?”

Want
. The word sounded so inadequate. He couldn’t stop the images playing in his brain like a movie loop. Her scent filled his head, her moans echoed in his ears. He didn’t
want
. He
needed
.

He went for a more simple answer. “Yeah, I do.”

“Are you worried about Holt?”

He was more worried about being out of his depth. Spence would simply have gone for it. With him, it was the woman who was out of her depth. It had nothing to do with the fact that Spence was five years older than Ward. Spence exuded male confidence. Ward didn’t. He’d gotten married right out of college, and he was divorced five years later when his wife cheated on him with his best friend. At least that was the first time he figured out she was cheating. He’d had relationships since then, and he’d had his share of sex, too. But after finding his wife in bed with the friend who’d been best man at his wedding, Ward had never been confident and easygoing about sex and relationships the way Spence was. That probably made him a wimp, but a woman like Cassandra Montgomery would crush him flat. She was Spence’s match, not his.

But he wasn’t about to let Spence get to her first.

“Holt probably wouldn’t care,” Ward said. Especially if Ruby’s car in his driveway meant he was busy with his own hijinks.

“Then what’s your problem? I say go for it.”

The plane pulled away from the gate and taxied out to the runway.

What was he asking for from Spence? Permission? Backup? He couldn’t remember a time he’d lusted after a woman the way he now did for Cassandra Montgomery. He didn’t need Spence’s thumbs up for that.

He needed Spence’s confidence. His worldliness. His ability to make small talk with women. They were all the things Spence could never give him.

You’re a wimp.

Yes, he was. But for Cassandra, he was going to have to get over his natural reserve.

* * * * *

“So this is why you came in earlier than expected?” Holt nursed his beer as they sat on his back patio on Sunday afternoon.

A lawn mower whirred to life next door, disturbing the quiet. Though Memorial Day was almost here and summer would soon be upon them, a cool spring breeze ruffled her hair. Cassandra preferred Bay Area weather to the heat of L.A. She was happy to move back here.

“I’m asking for your help,” she told her father. “I can show you my business plan and the locations that I’m interested in.”

Holt hadn’t arrived home until late last night, so she’d saved their discussion for today.

Her time had been productive since Wednesday. She’d interviewed an accountant and was moving ahead on the necessary business licenses. She’d found a real estate agent that came highly recommended and had viewed several sites.

“I can get started,” she told him, “but I don’t have sufficient capital to sustain things as the boutique grows.”

“Do you want a loan or do you want an investor?

She’d thought about that. “It’s my baby, and I want to run things my way. The decisions need to be mine.”

“Contrary to public opinion,” he said dryly, “I don’t need to control everything.”
Public opinion
referred to a public of one, her mother Maria. Not that her parents didn’t get along despite the divorce, but her mom was quite opinionated. She was also the pot calling the kettle black, as the old saying went. Her mother certainly had her own controlling streak. Cassandra loved them both despite their faults.

She smiled her acknowledgement. “Let’s meet with my accountant and discuss which is the better way to go for taxes, filing, all that stuff.”

“If you’re going to incorporate—” Holt stopped, looked at her and diverted his thought. “Sounds good to me.”

Mom was wrong. Holt wasn’t a control freak. At least not where Cassandra was concerned. “Thanks.”

He patted her hand. “I’m glad you’re coming home.”

Mom was on her third husband, a surgeon. They lived down in L.A. With her frequents trips to the Bay Area, in some ways it was like the dual parenting they’d done when she was a kid, shuffling her between houses, one week with Holt, one week with Mom. “I’m glad, too, Holt,” she said sweetly.

She called him Holt while she always called her mother Mom. It had started in her college days, stating her independence. She’d only called her mother
Maria
for a week, until Mom had broken down into tears. Holt, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the equality. She loved him no less; they were simply different.

Smiling, his gaze on the back garden, which was blooming prettily with hydrangeas and azaleas, he said, “I hope you don’t mind that we’re having a guest for dinner.”

A guest. She hadn’t been a night owl since she’d started working on making her business plan a reality, and she’d already been in bed when he arrived home last night. His car pulled in, and a little while later the Beemer pulled out. Seeing the Beemer in the driveway the first day, she’d assumed he’d bought a new car, though a sporty BMW was definitely not his style. She hadn’t asked whose car it was. But now she felt a little hiccup of...something.

Her father hadn’t dated while she was growing up. There’d been no special woman or women. But she got a feeling now. She wasn’t so sure it was a good feeling. Maybe she was still Daddy’s little girl after all and didn’t want to share him.

“Do I need to cook?” she asked.

They both laughed. Beyond boiling water for spaghetti or making an omelet, Cassandra’s cooking skills were abysmal.

“We’ll have take-out,” he assured her.

She wondered if she should ask who. She wasn’t sure she even wanted to know.

Two hours later she was absolutely sure she didn’t want to know.

Ruby Williams passed her a bowl of shrimp in garlic sauce. They were on second helpings of both Chinese food and small talk. The dinner was take-out, sure, but Ruby had insisted on putting everything in china and eating formally at the dining room table.

“Thank you.” Cassandra’s smile felt brittle on her face.

When her father entertained or threw parties, Ruby was often his hostess. His dinners and gatherings were always work-related. She was his admin. It made sense. But what was she doing here now?

“Ruby and I are getting married,” Holt said just before putting a forkful of fried rice in his mouth.

Cassandra accidentally ladled the garlic shrimp into her wonton soup. “Oh.” It was all she could manage.

Ruby was forty, only seven years older than Cassandra. They could have been sisters. She was tall, pretty, and curvy, with silky auburn hair. She was everything a red-blooded American male could want. If that American male wasn’t Cassandra’s father.

“That’s wonderful.” Not so much. Her smile was definitely going to crack her face.

Ruby smiled with her ruby-colored lips. Her lipstick hadn’t even worn off with the soup and the mu shu and the other various dishes. “Thank you.”

They were all so polite. Though they were seated, Holt didn’t touch Ruby, not even her hand. Beyond a peck on the cheek when she arrived, they hadn’t kissed.

“We’re thinking about a September wedding,” Ruby said. “I don’t want to do June. Everyone does June. Besides, there’s not enough time to make all the arrangements.” The fork tines disappeared between her ruby lips and came back out empty without a single trace of lipstick.

Holt smiled at her indulgently. “We could always do Tahoe or Las Vegas.”

Ruby grimaced. “Tahoe would be fine, but Las Vegas is tacky.”

“Don’t you want to have your picture taken in your wedding dress right under the Las Vegas sign?” Holt was mocking but not unkind.

Ruby laughed and batted the air in front of his face. “Only if we have a limousine.” Her brown eyes sparkled like topaz gems.

Cassandra couldn’t say she’d ever been fond of Ruby. Ruby was too much of everything, too much breast, her skirts too short, her tops too low-cut. And too many men. She might have been living with Clay Blackwell for the past four years, until he’d unceremoniously dumped her, but she certainly hadn’t been without her men for the duration. One evening when she’d stayed the night at an airport hotel before a very early morning flight out, Cassandra had seen Ruby. The man she’d been kissing and touching was not Clay. Cassandra had her share of men, too, but she wasn’t in a relationship. Her love of variety was one of the very reasons she’d never had a steady man. Ruby didn’t seem to know the difference. She didn’t want that kind of woman for her father. Ruby wasn’t special enough for Holt. She wouldn’t cherish him.