Maureen Child - Reasons for Revenge - Scorned by the Boss

“It’s all right.” The words forced themselves past the knot in her throat. Sitting up, she reached for the dress she’d torn off only a few minutes ago. “I mean, it was stupid. Of both of us. But as long as you’re healthy, you don’t have to worry about pregnancy or anything. I’m on the pill.”

“I am,” he said. “Healthy, I mean.”

“Then, there’s no problem, is there?” Except, of course, for the gaping open wound on her heart. But that wasn’t his problem; it was hers.

Standing up, she stepped into her dress, pulled it up and struggled with the back zipper. In a flash, he was standing behind her. His fingers brushed against her skin, sending tingles of sensation rippling through her as he zipped up the dress.

“Thanks.” She heard him getting dressed but didn’t turn around. Didn’t watch him. Damn it, what was she supposed to do now? It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she knew all about his childish plan to trick her back into working for him. She wanted to face him, see his eyes when he realized that she had known how he’d planned to use her.

But something stopped her.

Call it foolish. Hell, call it stupid. But it was there. The urge to keep quiet. To just go along with his plan, let him think it was working. Let him think he’d lulled her into believing he wanted her. There was time enough to disabuse him of the idea. She could face him down later with the stinging truth.

And then maybe it wouldn’t feel so raw to her. Maybe then she’d be feeling less hurt and more righteously indignant.

He turned her around and pulled her into his arms. Silently, she went into his embrace, laid her head on his chest and listened to the steady thump of his heart. His arms cradled her, his chin rested on top of her head. When he released a long breath, it almost felt to her like a sigh.

Which just went to prove that her heart was too easily led at the moment.

“I don’t know what to say to you,” he whispered, still holding her, standing there quietly as if he could hold that position all night and not want anything else.

He was good, Caitlyn thought with a pang. She’d never really given him the credit he deserved. No wonder he always had women draped all over him. His touch, his words, the heavy sighs. The man was a consummate actor. He almost had her fooled, despite knowing the truth.

“Don’t say anything,” Caitlyn said, and meant every word. She didn’t want to hear any more lies. Not now. Not when everything she was feeling for him was so tender. So easily bruised.

“I want to, though.”

No, don’t, she thought but knew he wouldn’t keep silent. Knew that if he was going to play his role well, now he had to tell how much he cared for her. To set the stage, so to speak. To keep her soft and gooey for him—and, oh, how it infuriated her to know that if she hadn’t heard that phone call of his, she would have been just what he was expecting.

He shifted her in his arms, drew back slightly and lifted both hands to cup her face. His thumbs smoothed across her cheekbones and his gaze moved over her with a caress as palpable as a touch.

“Being with you,” he said, his tone soft, tempting, “was more than I thought it would be. It touched me, Caitlyn.”

She felt the sting of tears and furiously fought them back. She wouldn’t give him one tear. Wouldn’t allow him to one day look back at this moment and think to himself what a fine job he’d done. Instead, she used his words to bolster her own defenses. To remind her that this was a man who was clearly willing to do whatever he had to to achieve his goals.

“Me, too,” she said, and forced herself to kiss him briefly, lightly, before stepping out of his arms to give herself a chance to settle.

“Me, too?” he echoed. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

She glanced at him, noted the confusion on his face and took a sort of dark cheer from it. “It was great, Jefferson. You were great. But I’m cold now and I want to go back to the hotel.”

“Oh.” Nodding, he swept up their towels and bathing suits, shook out the sand and tossed the whole mess over his shoulder. Reaching out, he took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. “Let’s get back to the room, then. We can talk more there.”

His fingers were warm and strong and just for a minute, she let herself pretend that they really were a couple. That their lovemaking had meant something. That there was a future for them beyond the comeuppance that Jefferson so had coming to him.

But when he smiled down at her with the patented Jefferson Lyon seduction smile, Caitlyn inhaled sharply. Her heart ached and she wondered if she was going to be able to play along with this after all. Despite being furious with him, she loved him. And dragging this out was going to be harder on her than it would be on him.

Yet … she knew she would play the game he had begun. Because, when it was all over, she would at least have some memories of them together.

Setting herself up for even bigger pain down the road? Probably. But at the moment, with her blood still humming and her body still tingling from his touch, it seemed a good enough trade-off.

Jefferson was having a great time. Well, not at the moment, as he had just gotten off the phone with Georgia, who could make any rational, sane man want to tear his hair out.

But on the whole, this time on the island had been good. He stood outside a village shop waiting for Caitlyn to come back to him and realized that he was actually enjoying himself.

The sun was hot, but the air off the ocean sifted through the heat, soothing him and everyone else on the brick-paved street. The air was spicy with the scent of the flowers lining the walkways and from somewhere down the street came the rhythmic sound of steel-drum music.

It had been years since he’d had a real vacation. And he was only just realizing how much he’d needed this break from the everyday world. But it wasn’t just being away from work that felt so invigorating. It was Caitlyn.

She was fun. Exciting. And more alluring than he would ever have thought possible. He had no idea how he could have worked with her for so long and never noticed just how amazing she really was. She was different from every other woman he’d ever known.

Easy enough to understand, he reassured himself constantly. They had a real connection. A relationship that went beyond the bedroom. They talked and laughed about their families. She understood his work, his company, as well as he did. She had an adventurous spirit—always willing to try something new, something different.

Through her enthusiasm, she made him see everything around him in a new light. Ordinarily. he was a man who thought an hour away from his work was an hour lost. Now he looked forward to every damn day with her.

Together, they had taken surfing lessons—and watching her try time after time to stand up for more than a second, he’d felt admiration for her stubborn determination. They went parasailing behind a boat, and he would never forget the sound of her laughter as she danced in the wind beneath a rainbow-colored parachute. They danced in the resort’s club every night, and when they went back to her room, they lay together in the wide bed.

He leaned one shoulder against a light pole and squinted into the sun, staring blindly at the people who passed him by. He was caught in some sort of weird place where all he wanted was for her to smile at him. For her to touch him and reach for him during the night. Night after night he held her, made love to her and woke next to her in the morning. Another first for him. Jefferson wasn’t the kind of man who hung around after sex. He didn’t like “morning afters” and had made a point of never having one of his women spend the night at his home.