Kathleen O'Reilly - Once Upon A Mattress

Her magic fingers unbuttoned his fly and then slid beneath his briefs, and she laughed, low and husky. “Mark,” she whispered against his neck, as if just his name delighted her.

Mark?

Mark?

Ben opened his eyes and stared into wanton green eyes that glowed fever-bright with desire.

He had tasted the heat of her lips. He had felt her breasts heavy in his hands. Still, her voice played in his head.

Mark?

With legs slightly unsteady, Ben ignored all his instincts, climbed out of the bed and turned on the lights. The sight of her bare golden skin was mesmerizing. His stubble had left red streaks on her skin. Marks of possession.

Ben wasn’t a man who thought in terms of possession, hell, he prided himself on having as few as possible, but this morning there it was. His mark.

He could do nothing but stare, his body protesting the space between them. He was a fool.

The fog lifted from her gaze and her face froze in horror. “Mr. MacAllister,” she gasped, pulling her shirt down and gathering the covers around her. She looked the picture of naive innocence. Ben remembered the way she had stroked him earlier and thought the Victorian modesty bit was way overdone.

“I think you can call me Ben,” he said with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Unfortunately, her eyes flashed sexual harassment. What was the law, anyway?

She pulled the sheet tight around her, an extra layer of protection over her shirt and shorts. “Let’s just forget this moment ever happened. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll get dressed.”

Oh, please. “You are dressed,” he said in a calm, non-threatening voice. “Look, this was nothing more than a case of mistaken identity.”

She tried to climb out of the bed, but the sheet kept coming untucked, and she wouldn’t let go. He held a hand, but she scooted away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

As if he were some sort of monster. Jeez, who had climbed into bed with whom here? And why was she here? “Look, I’m sorry. Okay? But this isn’t that big a deal.”

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. Then she braced a hand behind her on the bed and closed her eyes. For a second he thought she was going to faint. But not Miss Hilary Sinclair. She opened her eyes again, emerald sharp, and took a deep breath. “Not a big deal? You are such a man.”

He jammed his hands into his pockets. “A fact you were perfectly happy with about fifteen minutes ago.”

Direct hit. Her faced flushed fire-engine red. “I expect a co-worker to behave with a bit more decorum, but obviously in your case, that’s too much to ask. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m leaving.”

She shuffled out the door with quite a bit of dignity for a woman sporting humidity hair, dragging a sheet behind her.

BEN SPENT the early-morning hours locked in his office, waiting for a decent hour to make a call. Tonight, when he had a cold beer in his hand and a cold shower nearby, he would linger over the surprising aggressiveness of Miss Hilary Sinclair and her bodacious breasts, but right now he needed to put MacAllister Beds first. He picked up the phone and dialed, hoping he hadn’t screwed up too badly.

“Danny, this is Ben. Listen, I need to ask you a lawyer question.”

“Shoot.”

“It’s about sexual harassment laws.”

“Did you get yourself in trouble?” Danny asked quietly.

“God, I hope not. I don’t think so. It’s Dad’s company, not mine. Last thing I want is to mess it up.”

“Um, this a consensual situation?”

Now that was the million-dollar question. He had no idea. Ben told Danny what had happened and then sighed as he wrapped up the sorry tale. “Could I get her to sign a waiver or something?” he asked, and immediately thought of her nonexistent sense of humor, and figured it’d be easier to herd cats than get a signature from her, but he’d do whatever he had to.

“A waiver? Ben, relax. You’re fine. If she starts making noises, call me back. But I don’t see a case there.”

Ben let out a long sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Haven’t seen you since you got back in town. What are you up for next?”

“Cowboy.”

“Rodeo? Whoa, dogies.”

“Nope. Just roping and stuff.”

“Still, pretty cool. Hey, what are you doing tomorrow? The guys are going to OutdoorLand to check out their hiking gear. Got a big trip planned in a couple of weeks. You gotta come.”

Ben leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. Hiking, now that he could handle. “Sounds like fun.”

“See you on Saturday,” Danny said, and then hung up.

One bullet dodged.

Ben put down the phone and swiveled his chair to face the window. What was he doing here? Downtown Dallas. Rain. Buildings everywhere.

Being a businessman really was the pits so far. Out on the range, there was only the wind and the sky. And the last thing a cowboy had to worry about was sexual harassment.

Damn.

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