NATASHA OAKLEY - At The Boss's Command - Taking on the Boss / The Millionaire Boss's Mistress / Accepting the Boss's Proposal

‘Oh.’

Her belly tightened. ‘But don’t get me wrong. I have had boyfriends. Plenty. Just no one special, you know, someone who made me feel like—’ She caught herself. ‘What about you?’

He shook his head. ‘No serious boyfriends either,’ he said softly, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. ‘But I did… I was…in a serious relationship.’

‘And—?’

‘And it didn’t end well,’ he murmured, moving closer. ‘But I believe in second chances. Do you?’

She hadn’t thought she ever could after what her father did… Hadn’t believed she could ever trust a man again, but this feeling, and Case, was special.

She looked up to hand him his jacket, catching his blue gaze and holding it, the gleam residing there fixing her to the spot. ‘Yes,’ she whispered.

Case lifted a hand to her face, brushing her cheek with his knuckles, pushing back her long fringe, hooking his fingers around her neck and drawing her closer.

His gaze dropped to her mouth.

‘Case—’ she croaked, moistening her lips instinctively, her whole body aching for him. ‘This may not be a good idea—’ There was still so much to say before anything happened between them.

He leant down, brushing his lips over hers.

Oh, gawd—yes. Sensation sizzled along her lips, cascading down her body, nestling deep in the pit of her stomach where a yearning ache flared.

He tasted her mouth, teased her lips with his own, drawing up his other hand to cup her face.

Oh, hell, yes.

Tahlia pressed her hands against his hard solid chest, his heart thumping beneath her touch, his warm skin beneath just one thin layer of cotton, all that hard muscle and flesh so close…

He drew back, tasting her lips again. ‘You’re probably right. Not a good idea…’ He brushed her lips with his mouth. ‘Not a good idea at all.’

She backed into her doorway, her hands clenched tightly in his shirt. ‘Colleagues and all.’

Case followed, his gaze on her lips, his hands on her shoulders. ‘Absolutely. Not a good practice.’

‘Practise is good,’ she whispered, flicking open his shirt buttons and sliding her hands against his warm skin, revelling in the heat of him, the hardness of him, the incredible smoothness.

He sucked in a deep breath, pushed the door closed with his foot and kissed her soundly.

Case’s lips caressed hers, soft and sensual. He drew her closer still, running a hand down over her waist, down her hip, down her thigh and up again, moulding her against him.

Oh, by all she’d denied too long, yes.

She popped the rest of his buttons, running her hands up his hard chest and over his wide shoulders, pushing the shirt from his body.

Case lightened the kiss, as though the cool air of the room had subdued his desire. He dragged in a deep breath.

‘We’re professionals,’ he murmured, trailing kisses along her cheek, over her ear and down her neck. ‘We should look at the bigger picture. Not make rash decisions.…’

Tahlia pressed her lips against his shoulder, his skin sweet and salty. ‘What are the cons?’ she whispered. ‘Career suicide?’

‘No.’ Case slipped his hand behind her back, his breath exciting the pulse in her neck. ‘Office gossip.’

‘Hierarchy complications?’ Tahlia suggested, trailing her fingers down the bare flesh of his back and up again. ‘Impartiality issues?’

‘Not being able to keep my hands off you at work,’ Case murmured in her ear, coaxing the zip down at her back. ‘In the lift, in the office, on my desk.’

Fire erupted deep inside her. She twined her fingers in his hair. ‘What are the pros?’

Case brushed her shoulders with his large hands, sweeping off the straps, letting the dress fall to the floor. His eyes glittered, his gaze travelling up her long legs, over black lace panties to her matching lace bra. ‘You.’

She couldn’t help but smile, pushing everything from her mind except this moment, with him. It didn’t matter who he was, what he really wanted, as long as he wanted her.

She took a step towards him, reaching up and touching his cheek, running her palm down his jaw. ‘And this,’ she whispered, brushing his lips with hers on tiptoe.

Case swept her into his arms, crushing her mouth.

Tahlia opened herself to him, welcoming the hunger, the heat of his kiss that was only matched by the flames of lust leaping up inside her.

He lifted her into his arms.

She pushed open the bedroom door behind him.

He strode into the room, placing her on to the bed reverentially, drinking in the sight of her. ‘Oh, God, Tahlia,’ he groaned, tracing her curves with his eyes, his hands following. ‘I’m lost. You drive me wild.’

Tahlia ran her hands down his chest, hooking his belt and unclasping it, drawing it slowly from his trousers. ‘And crazy?’

‘And crazy,’ Case whispered hoarsely, unclipping her bra and peeling it from her full breasts.

‘I want you too,’ she said softly, drawing him down and claiming his mouth. And she did. She burned for him. Wanted him so much she could hardly breathe.

‘And practise makes perfect,’ she whispered.

Tahlia watched Case sleep in the soft light from the streetlights outside. Wow. She couldn’t believe this— how nice he was, how amazingly lucky she was to wake up next to him.

She trailed her fingers down his chest, wondrous at the ripples of muscle, the light scatter of chest hair, the perfection of him.

He caught her hand. ‘Hey, that tickles.’

‘Sorry, did I wake you?’

‘Yes, but it was the nicest way anyone has ever woken me.’

She couldn’t help but smile. Gawd, she felt amazing… He’d given so much, shared with her so much. She wanted more, so much more, craved to be closer, know everything about Case Darrington. ‘Last night was—’

‘I know,’ he said, his voice deep.

‘No regrets?’ she whispered.

‘How could I have regrets?’ Case leant up on his elbow, looking down at her. ‘Not a chance.’

‘So, can I ask you something?’ she asked tentatively, tracing his jaw with the tip of her finger. ‘About your last serious relationship—you mentioned it last night.’ She needed to know how long ago it had been, that she wasn’t a rebound girl to patch some wounded ego.

Case cupped her face. ‘It wasn’t just a serious relationship… I was married.’

Tahlia froze. Oh, gawd.

‘It’s okay. I’m divorced—’ He frowned. ‘I’m not defective… Okay, maybe I am, but I can promise you I won’t make the same mistakes again.’

‘Should I ask what they were?’ she whispered softly, drawing her hand back and placing it on her chest over her heart.

‘I wasn’t blameless,’ Case forced out. He needed to face it, needed to say it. He’d spent far too long blaming Celia for the whole disaster. It was time he accepted his part in it. Needed to, so he could move on and embrace a future with Tahlia.

‘I was away a lot, working my butt off to reach my dreams, my goals, and I lost sight of the fact that Celia had dreams and goals too.’

‘Celia was your wife?’

Case swallowed hard. ‘Yes. Much as I didn’t want to be a trophy husband, my neglect and my obsession with work made her feel like a trophy wife. I regret the pain I put her through. I regret that I turned into my father.’

‘And?’ she said softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. ‘Are you still your father?’

‘No, thank God.’ He pushed her long fringe back from her face. ‘I learnt.’

‘Too late,’ she whispered softly.

‘Yes. While I worked like a maniac she filled her life with things, jewellery and men. By the time I realised what I’d done it was too late; nothing I tried could fix it.’