Who's the Boss? (7 page)

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Authors: Jill Shalvis

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Who's the Boss?
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“It was if it hurt you.” Tim came closer, peering into her face. “Darla’s really pretty great, but she does like a good joke. What did she say?”
Caitlin dropped her gaze from his, feeling a little silly. “Something about Barbie meets
Baywatch
,” she muttered.
His eyes widened. He bit his lip, which Caitlin would have sworn was so he couldn’t laugh. Next to her, Andy made a suspicious noise, something like a strangled hyena. In a Joe-like move, Vince closed his eyes.
“Oh, stop it,” she said, biting back her own smile. “It really wasn’t so funny a minute ago.”
“You know it’s not exactly a put-down,” Vince offered in his boss’s defense. “Most women would kill to be described that way.” His eyes stayed on hers. “And no offense, but you really do look every bit as good as Barbie, or any one of those women on
Baywatch
for that matter.”
“Really?” She let her gaze run over his own well-proportioned body. “How would
you
feel to be known as...oh, I don’t know. How about Fabio meets G.I. Joe?”
Vince grinned. “
Fabio?”
He flexed his muscles. “Cool.”
Caitlin rolled her eyes and gave up. “Oh, never mind.” She shooed them all back to their offices and went to the small kitchen. Quietly, efficiently, she started the new coffeemaker, because of course it was empty. She waited impatiently until the coffee began to drip into the pot.
Filling a mug to the top with the steaming brew, she went back into the hall and contemplated the closed door to Mr. Gorgeous Butt’s office.
She knocked.
“Go away.”
She smiled and walked in.
Joe didn’t even waste a scowl on her, but sat hunched over his computer, his fingers whirling away on the keyboard. “Back off or die,” he muttered without much heat. “And you’re late. Again.”
Suddenly he froze. Then he lifted his head and sniffed. “Coffee?
Real
coffee?”
“As opposed to fake?” she asked sweetly, holding the mug just out of his reach. He stood so he could outreach her.
He’d gone all out today, wearing a light blue shirt instead of his usual black. His jeans, faded from wear, fit his long, lean limbs like a glove. When his fingers brushed hers, shocking her with that ever present electricity that ran between them, she gave over the mug.
Clearly unaffected, he sipped gratefully, then let out a huge sigh. “Thanks.”
She lifted a brow. “Thanks?
Thanks
? Did you actually thank me? That can’t be—you’re never polite.”
He looked insulted. “I’m plenty polite.”
“Really?”
“Of course I am. I’m diplomatic, too.”
Caitlin pretended to contemplate this while she walked the length of his office. Turning back to him, she asked, “Is it
polite
to discuss your employees with friends? Is it
diplomatic
to laugh at them, about them, behind their back?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Is it considered politically correct to resort to name-calling, especially before you even really know that employee?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Does ‘Barbie meets
Baywatch
’ mean anything to you?”
His mouth opened a bit “Oh,” he said, his face unreadable. “You’ve...met Darla.”
She waited for more, but he said nothing else. “That’s
all
you have to say?”
He shrugged. “If it matters, you don’t look like a model in the least to me.”
“Gee, thanks,” she said, feeling inexplicably flattened. The first man in the universe who didn’t think she was pretty, and this depressed her?
She was an idiot.
“You have too much...” He waved his hand wildly, gesturing to her body, under the mistaken impression she wanted a detailed analysis of her body type. “Everything. Yeah, that’s it. You have far too much
everything.
”
“Hmm.” The warning in her voice might have deterred another man, a normal man, but then again, Joe was anything but
normal.
“And your hair isn’t like Barbie’s at all,” he offered. “It’s short, for one thing.”
“I see.”
“As for
Baywatch...”
He shrugged. “I’ve never seen the show, but it’s supposedly got those tight red bathing suits, and I can’t see you in one of those, either.”
“You can’t? Too much ‘everything’ to fit into one of them, huh?”
“Come on, princess, I can’t be telling you anything you don’t already know.”
“I’m not
a
princess.”
Each word was enunciated, and spoken very quietly. “If I were, do you think I’d be working for pennies for you?”
Suddenly wary, he looked at her, as if just realizing she wasn’t taking this in quite the same lighthearted tone he’d meant it. “Caitlin—”
“Set down your coffee, Joe,” she said evenly.
He did. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to act like a princess and have a temper tantrum. I don’t want you to burn yourself.” She swiped at the neat stack of papers on his desk, knocking them to the floor. She reached for another stack, getting into the spirit.
Laughing, he grabbed her hand and held it tight in a fist that might as well have been steel. “What was that for? Wait!”
But she simply switched tactics and tried to evade him. “Don’t...patronize me,” she demanded. “Don’t talk about me behind my back, and
don’t...”
She let out a huff of steam when he grabbed her, roaring with laughter.
Seeing red, she fought him. “Let me go!” she demanded, puffing and gasping for air as she fought.
With surprising speed and agile strength, he managed to wrap both arms around her and haul her close, pressing her now useless limbs against his own.
At the contact, she went utterly still.
So did Joe.
In the silence, their rough breathing sounded abnormally loud.
And arousing.
“Are we fighting,” he wondered in a suddenly low, husky voice, all traces of humor gone as he stared down into her uplifted face, “or are we playing?”
“I...I don’t know.”
7
 
“I
THOUGHT we were fighting.” Caitlin stared at Joe with her huge, glowing eyes. She wiggled a bit, pressing all those terrific curves to him and causing interesting things to happen to his insides. And outsides. “But now...I’ve lost track.”
Joe had, too. His heart was pounding, his body responding to the tight, erotic hold he had on her. She stared at his mouth, only inches from hers. Then hers opened slightly and he nearly moaned.
“Joe.”
“This is crazy,” he muttered.
“Yeah. Insane.” But she tipped her torso up to his, and her round breasts pressed into his chest.
He was lost.
“Stop me,” he begged, dipping his head down so he could slide his lips over her jaw. He nipped at the corner of her delicious mouth. “Stop me, Caitlin.”
She skimmed her hands beneath his shirt to streak across his bare back, and caught the lobe of his ear between her teeth. His eyes crossed with lust, and the ball of heat he’d been stoking in his gut for days kindled.
“I... don’t think I want to stop you.” She sounded breathless. Confused. Aroused.
“So we’re both crazy. Hell.” And he kissed her.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders as the ball of heat erupted into fire. The soft, needy whimper that escaped her undid him, and he dragged her closer, lifting her up against him so that he could get better access to those lips and what lay beyond them. Under his fingers, her skin felt so soft, so warm, so inviting, he became dizzy with it.
So did Caitlin.
Passion.
Desire. She hadn’t realized just one kiss could provoke it. Demand it. He surrounded her with his strength, his hunger. This was what she’d been missing.
This
. And she wanted more.
Joe stroked his fingers down her neck, discovered the pulse drumming at the base of her throat. Unable to resist, he bent his head to explore it with his mouth. She tasted like heaven, all sweet, melting irresistibility. Bringing his mouth back to hers, he swallowed her gasp as he trailed his fingers across the soft, slick silk of her snug-fitting blouse. He cupped her breasts, running his thumbs over their tight peaks. Gasping, she arched her body into his.
He had to see her eyes, had to know if she felt half of what he did. He was breathless when he lifted his head to look into her face. At the sudden loss of his warm lips, Caitlin protested wordlessly by fisting her hands in his hair and capturing his mouth again.
He understood, for he also feared he might never get enough. And he’d seen the cloudy desire in her eyes, mirroring his own. Her mouth opened to his, hot and hungry, and the room was filled with their sounds of pleasure... Then the sound of the office door opening.
Caitlin jerked in his arms. Still holding her, Joe lifted his head, prepared to bite someone’s—anyone’s—head off.
But whoever had opened the door had already retreated, leaving a conspicuously empty doorway.
Joe forced himself to look into Caitlin’s eyes, prepared for the regret and the recriminations he deserved, but there were none.
Arms still looped around his neck, she smiled at him. A full, dazzling, vivid smile that did funny things to his heart and made his throat tighten uncomfortably.
There was an excellent explanation for what was happening, he assured himself—
insanity
. It was all he could come up with to account for holding this wild, unstable, unpredictable, irritating-as-hell woman in his arms. For kissing her until they’d both lost their senses.
“I don’t suppose,” she said softly, threading her fingers through his hair, making him want to purr with satisfaction at just her light touch, “you’d like to try that again.”
“Caitlin.” It wasn’t possible. They shouldn’t have indulged in the first place. Slowly, with some regret, he reached up and unhooked her arms from around his neck.
“I guess not,” she said, still sounding cheerful, and she backed up a step, which allowed him to see into those incredible brown eyes.
They were filled with hurt. Silently calling himself every name he could think of, he reached for her, but she danced back. “No.” She shook her head and scooted around his chair, holding it between them like a shield. “No pity embraces, okay? You kissed me, you’re regretting it, let’s just let it go at that.”
“I don’t pity you,” he said gruffly. “You’re far too maddening for that.”
“Another compliment.” She pressed a hand to her chest and batted her lashes at him. “You really must stop—it’ll go to my head.”
“This is a business,” he said carefully. “And I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
“Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it, but don’t worry, boss, I won’t forget who signs the paychecks.” Caitlin swallowed her hurt. “And if it makes you feel any better, I can not like you very much and still enjoy kissing you.”
“I meant,” he said tightly, his probing gaze pinning her to the spot, “that this... this—”
“Yes? This what, Joe? Relationship? No, that would be too much, wouldn’t it.”
“What do you want from me?”
His expression wasn’t grim or angry; those she could have easily resisted. He seemed... genuinely baffled. And scared.
That stopped her as nothing else could have. He was nervous and unsettled. The big, restless, ill-tempered, bullheaded man was backpedaling as fast as he could because she terrified him. “That’s the funny thing here, Joe. I don’t want
anything
from you.”
“Women always do.”
“Is that right?” She studied him thoughtfully. “Yeah, I can see that might be a problem. Gorgeous, smart...and such a charming bedside manner. How ever do you fight them all off?”
When he took another step toward her, scowling, her heart raced, but not from fear. Damn him, he’d done the impossible. He’d made her want him and now he was regretting it. She could really hate him for that. But she knew if he so much as touched her, she’d fling herself into those very capable arms.
She backed to the door, grabbed the jamb for balance and sent him a smile, though it wavered. “You know what? Never mind this whole thing. I’ve got work.”
“Wait.” He paused, drew a ragged breath. “I’m sorry,” he said in that unbearably sexy voice that was now filled with tenderness and affection—two emotions she would never have expected of him.
She turned away. “I’m not.”
“Caitlin.” She stopped, but didn’t face him, and when she heard his words, she was glad for it.
“This won’t happen again. It can’t.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it.” His stern voice reminded her that she didn’t like stern men who didn’t see past her exterior to the woman beneath.
“Fine.” Now, pride fierce and hot, she looked at him. “Remember that the next time you grab me close, Joe, okay?
Keep your lips to yourself.”
 
THE CROWNING GLORY CAME late the next afternoon. Caitlin made the mistake of thinking about Joseph’s kiss while working the new coffeemaker. She got herself so hot and bothered, she didn’t pay attention to the strange crackling, sizzling sound coming from the outlet on the wall where the machine was plugged in.
The cord caught fire.
She figured the ensuing explosion was Joseph’s final straw.
He came storming into the kitchen, eyes wild, hair standing up on end from where he’d plowed his fingers through it. “Again?” he yelled. “You’re incredible! How does this happen to you? To
me?
” Unplugging the scorched, blown-up unit from the wall, he hissed at the heat. Now that there was coffee from ceiling to floor, there were no more flames.
Just that scorched-coffee smell.
With one swift look at the calamity around him, he went straight to her.
Caitlin couldn’t bring herself to look at him, but he lifted her chin with his fingers. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and serious.
She nodded, sure she’d never felt so stupid in all her life.
“You’re sure?” He turned her face from side to side, inspecting her thoroughly. She nodded again.
“Good.” He drew a deep breath and glanced at the mess around them. “Then I can yell at you and not feel bad.”
“Maybe I’m not so okay after all,” she decided, but he didn’t find her humorous in the least.
Tim, Andy and Vince appeared in the doorway, eyes wide, faces grim.
“In fact,” she said urgently, “I’m critically injured. Probably going to die.”
“She’s kidding,” Joe told them. “I’ll handle this.” To underscore his point, he shut the door in their faces. The room suddenly shrank.
“I can’t work like this,” he said, far too quietly. “If I don’t get some peace soon, Caitlin, I’ll blow up. Just like the coffeemaker.”
What could she say—she had no idea what she’d done wrong, other than be born. Man, he had such great, wide shoulders—perfect for setting her head down on. They were so strong, so durable. She could lean there and cry it all out—her fears for her future...how she was beginning to feel for him...that she didn’t want to be alone anymore. She thought maybe he could feel the same way about her if he tried really hard and overlooked all the little things that drove him crazy....
“I’m sorry. I really do know how to make coffee, honest.”
“I’m so close to finishing this program. I’m so damn close, and you keep distracting me, driving me insane. Do you do it on purpose?”
“No, it’s just a special talent of mine.” But she thought it only fair he take half the blame for the coffeemaker thing. It had been
his
lips,
his
touch,
his everything
that had distracted her in the first place; otherwise she would have noticed the fire.
He paced the small kitchen, his sneakers making squishy noises in the coffee. He looked huge. Powerful. Very dangerous. “I thought I could do this—I swear I did. Dammit, I wanted to for Edmund.”
Her heart lodged in her throat. “What are you saying?”
“That I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t.” With a sound of disbelief, he gestured around him. “Look at this, Caitlin. Did you know we’ve been here for years and never once has that damn thing exploded? You’ve done it twice now.” In disgust, he lifted a foot, and it came loose from the linoleum with a loud pop. “We’ve never even had to mop before you came here.”
“I don’t think that’s necessarily something to be proud of. A good cleaning never hurt anything, Joe.”
“Well it’s gotten two cleanings in four days! There are more important things to be doing, dammit!”
“And I’d be happy to be doing them, but you don’t trust me!”
“Trust you! You can’t even work a coffeemaker!”
“All right, fine!” she yelled back, her hands on her hips. “But we all make mistakes. You don’t see me flinging yours in
your
face.”
“Because I haven’t made any,” he shouted, matching her tone as they stood nose to nose raging at each other.
“You make me so—”
The doorway to the kitchen was suddenly filled with curious, frantic techs.
“Get out!” Joe reached over and slammed the door.
“That wasn’t nice.” Caitlin lifted her chin. “They’re probably just wondering what you’re hollering about.”
“They’re used to it, believe me,” Joe assured her. He let out a slow breath. “And you’re changing the subject. I make you so...what? So mad?”
So horny
. The thought came unbidden, but it didn’t quite apply here. “Yes! Mad and irritated and frustrated and anxiety ridden.”
“Is that all?”
“You also infuriate me.”
“That’s the same as mad.”
“It’s mad multiplied.”
“My point exactly.” He nodded, quite calm now. “We drive each other crazy, so—”
“I never said you drove me crazy.”
He sighed and closed his eyes, looking so defeated, she wanted to hug him.
Hug him
?
Maybe
she
was crazy.
“You’re skirting around the real issue.”
“Of course I am,” she snapped. “You’re trying to fire me and pretend it has nothing to do with what happened earlier in your office. Which is a crock!”
A knock came at the door, followed by Tim’s hesitant voice. “Guys? Everything all right in there?”
“It would be if you would go back to your office and do your job!” Joe roared at the closed door.
“There’s no need to yell at him—he’s just being sweet,” Caitlin proclaimed, nearly yelling herself. She never raised her voice, so it was startling to realize how good it felt. So exhilarating. So freeing. “And no need to shout at me, either. It’s yourself you’re so mad at.”
Joe let out a short laugh and glanced around him at the coffee mess. “How in the hell do you figure that?”

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