A Fortune's Children's Christmas (15 page)

“Except he can’t because I sent them into oblivion.” Joanna’s breath caught in her throat. “Is everything gone forever?”

She could tell by Warren and Aaron’s wrinkled foreheads and matching grimaces that the retrieval effort had failed, but she needed to hear it said. To douse that tiny flare of foolish hope that still flickered within her.

“Gone without a trace,” confirmed Aaron. “Sorry, Joanna.”

“You said you tried all kinds of things to retrieve the files before you came to get us,” Warren said slowly. “Somehow, some way…” His voice trailed off, leaving the obvious unsaid.

Whatever she’d done was unable to be undone. Her vestige of hope was officially quashed. “Oh, what am I going to tell Ryder?” Joanna cried, aghast.

“Well, you could point out there are always unexplained glitches that occur,” suggested Aaron.

“But I
made
the unexplained glitch occur.” Joanna choked out the words.

“There is no actual proof of that.” Warren tried to
cheer her up. “No incontrovertible evidence was left behind like DNA on a crime victim. It’s within the realm of possibility that a computer virus could’ve been at work here.”

“That’s the story to go with,” seconded Aaron. “Warren and I will back you all the way, Joanna. I have some outdated files of my own that I could make disappear to add credibility to the virus theory.”

“The virus is Joanna Chandler. And I can’t ask you guys to lie for me.” Impulsively she hugged first Aaron, then Warren. “But thank you both for trying to help. I really appreciate it.”

“I’ll be glad to help you anytime, Joanna.” Warren prolonged the hug by tightening his arms around her.

Joanna managed to gracefully extricate herself from his embrace. “I’d better get back to the reception desk. Without Miss Volk here—”

“Being Volk-less calls for a celebration!” exclaimed Aaron. “A bunch of us are going out to this hot new club tonight. Come with us, Joanna. After a day like this, you could use a night of fun.”

“And Surf City is supposed to be ‘Fun Taken One Step Further,”’ Warren flashed a promising smile while quoting the club’s latest advertising slogan.

Joanna remembered the music blasting at hearing-loss decibels, the unseasonable beachwear, the claustrophobia-inducing crowds. So that was Fun Taken One Step Further? She’d had a better time alone at home watching sitcom reruns on cable.

But tonight she would be unemployed, and sitting alone in her apartment held no appeal. Jenny and
Wendi would be out; that was a given, they went out every night.

Joanna envisioned the evening that awaited her, alone in her apartment, worried sick about finding a new job so she could remain independent rather than sponge off her sister, who’d already done so very much for her.

Maybe an evening at Surf City, where it was virtually impossible to think, let alone worry, didn’t sound so awful after all.

The first thing Ryder noticed when he entered the building was Joanna seated behind the reception desk…and two young hotshots from the marketing department hanging all over the desk. Vying for Joanna’s attention.
All but drooling over her!

And no wonder. She was wearing her dark strawberry-colored suit, the one with the short skirt and fitted jacket, the one that drove him crazy every time she wore it because it revealed hints of tantalizing curves while discreetly concealing them. His rational mind appreciated the garment as a masterpiece of product design—except the sight of Joanna wearing it effectively rendered him irrational.

He stopped at the desk, a fixed smile on his face. “Slow day, huh?”

The tone of his own voice startled him. He had intended to sound jovial, like one of the guys. What he’d heard was his father, in full executive mode, about to deliver an admonishment on the perils of wasting time.

Aaron apparently heard the same thing. He abruptly straightened, his expression a portrait of guilt. “Ryder, we—um—were just—er,” he began.

“We heard a rumor and came seeking proof,” Warren interjected with a winning schoolboy smile. “We had to see with our own eyes that it’s not a mirage, that Miss Volk isn’t here. And it’s true, she’s really gone. ‘Ding Dong the Witch is Dead,’ hey, Ryder?”

Ryder decided that Warren bordered on smarmy. His jokes weren’t funny, either.

“I’d like you two to bring me up to speed on the Gladwin project first thing tomorrow morning,” Ryder said, and felt a twinge of satisfaction at the sudden panic in their eyes. Since the Gladwin project was brand-new, very little would’ve been done on it, certainly nothing worth sharing with the boss at this point.

But he’d made it sound like there ought to be!

Warren and Aaron immediately announced that they were returning to their offices. But as they were leaving, Ryder saw Aaron wink at Joanna, heard him hum a verse of “Surf City” under his breath.

Joanna gave a brief nod. She appeared sorry to see the pair leave.

Ryder narrowed his dark brows, subjecting her to a piercing stare. “‘Surf City’?”

She shrugged, and he noted that she diligently avoided any eye contact with him. “Good night!” he all but roared. “You’re not planning to go back to that place with them, are you?”

She gaped at him, and Ryder felt a flash of pride. He’d put together the clues with astute ease.

“I…said I’d meet them there tonight.” Joanna was defensive. “A group from marketing are going. It…it could be fun.”

“Fun?” Ryder echoed incredulously.

He wished that his keen powers of perception had failed, because he hated what he’d just learned. Joanna was going to Surf City with two junior marketing executives who were clearly smitten with her. And if they were all over her like a rash here at work, in the anything-goes atmosphere of Surf City they would surely—

Ryder blocked that thought. “You know what that place is like, Joanna. You detested it as much as I did.”

“I thought maybe I ought to give it another try.” Joanna stared at the phone, as if willing it to ring. It did not. “The gang in marketing are—”

“Wild,” snapped Ryder. “Not to mention partly insane. That’s why they’re so good at what they do. I ought to know, I’m the one who—”

“Ryder, I…I can’t put this off any longer.” Joanna abruptly stood up.

She caught him in midsentence, in midthought. Ryder watched her pace the small area behind the desk. She was visibly upset, almost on the verge of tears.

“Joanna, what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice deep with concern.

Her hands were trembling and she flexed her fingers. Where to begin? “Your great-aunt Kate’s call
got routed to voice mail, Ryder. I didn’t get a chance to talk personally to her.”

Her distress touched him. She knew how much he cared for Aunt Kate, what he owed her, and was distraught at the thought of slighting that grand lady in any way.

“It’s all right, Joanna.” Ryder reached out to give her shoulder a reassuring pat, but she was moving so fast, he missed her. “Aunt Kate accepts the inevitability of voice mail. She wouldn’t take offense. I’ll simply call her back now. No harm done.”

“Famous last words.” Joanna swallowed hard.

She launched into her confession, not sparing herself by offering any excuses when she admitted that his e-mail had been erased and his electronic schedule had gone missing.

“It’s no use pretending anymore, Ryder.” Joanna’s voice shook with emotion. “It has to be said, and I ought to be the one to say it. I’m a terrible executive assistant. The absolute worst.”

She took a deep breath. She’d been mentally rehearsing her speech since Warren and Aaron had pronounced her mistakes irreversible.

“You need to have somebody with better office skills, Ryder, someone with administrative ability, and that just isn’t me. The company is growing and you need somebody with a strong business background who’ll be an asset, not a liability, in your office.”

Ryder said nothing at all. Now that she had voiced what he often thought, he found himself unable to agree with her bald assertion.

“You’ve been too patient, too understanding, to fire me, so I’m firing myself. I quit, Ryder. It’s only fair to you and to the company.”

Ryder ran his hand through his hair, making it almost stand on end.
Joanna was quitting?
He prided himself on his perceptive skills, but he hadn’t seen this coming. He felt blindsided and swiftly sought to take control of the situation.

“Joanna, don’t play drama queen.” He hoped she wouldn’t catch the note of desperation in his voice. “I get enough of that from Charlotte, I don’t need it from you.”

He knew what he needed from her—and also knew that he had a snowball’s chance in hell of getting it. Ryder watched Joanna pace the reception area; his gaze, longing and hungry, following her every move.

Nothing new there. He’d had trouble keeping his eyes off her from the moment she had walked into his office on that cold January day, but he hadn’t realized what was happening to him until the night of their aborted tryst at Surf City.

On second thought, his perceptive ability was a joke because he had been caught off guard by the full force of his attraction to her. Until that fateful night. Then he’d touched her, held her, kissed her, and what felt like an emotional explosion of nuclear proportions had taken place inside him. He hadn’t been the same since.

Joanna turned and walked toward him, her expression of despair turning into one of annoyance. His rebuke had clearly irked her.

“I’m not being dramatic, Ryder. I’m being realistic and you know it.”

Ryder watched her come closer. The short strawberry skirt accentuated the shapely length of her legs, the vee of her jacket permitted a glimpse of the creamy-white camisole underneath. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as heat streaked through him, pooling deep and low in his groin.

It was Surf City all over again.

The potent sensual memories of their encounter that night swept through him like a riptide. He could remember exactly how she had felt in his arms, the sweet taste of her mouth, her enticing feminine scent.

Ryder nearly groaned aloud. Since then, he had spent hours gazing at Joanna Chandler like a teenager fixated on his first crush. He’d watched her, inventing imaginary conversations between them, trying to find a way to break through her reserve and end the distance between them.

It was so unlike him, to lose his head over a woman. Ryder mocked his preoccupation with Joanna as juvenile and pathetic. It would’ve been unspeakably embarrassing…if she had bothered to notice.

But she didn’t. She went about her Joanna-ish way, either unaware of the sexual tension that seemed to permeate the very air they breathed, or else blithely ignoring it. Ignoring him. Nothing he said or did shook her impenetrable air. She remained the epitome of cool—fascinating and maddening and always, always out of his reach.

“Life is complex enough without adding impossible
complications.”
The proclamation she’d made that night she had decided they were not fated to become lovers had a nasty way of rebounding in his head. Joanna considered him to be an impossible complication, hardly a flattering view. Certainly not a romantic one.

And now she was quitting. If she left Fortune’s Design, Ryder knew he would never see her again because she would make sure that he didn’t. She was already planning a plunge into Minneapolis nightlife by going to Surf City with that wild bunch from the marketing department tonight!

She was irresistible, and it would be only a matter of time before some guy caught her interest. And then—

Then he would have no chance at all with her. Ever.

His every instinct rallied against that unacceptable fate. He had to do something, and fast.

“You can’t quit, Joanna.” Ryder’s voice, stern and strident, boomed throughout the reception area.

J
oanna whirled around to face him. “Because you want to have the pleasure of firing me yourself?”

“If you quit, you can’t collect unemployment benefits,” Ryder said quickly, his mind racing.

“But if I’m fired I can,” Joanna recalled that dull employee-benefit lecture, much of which she’d tuned out because she couldn’t stay focused on the many arcane points. Still, she’d managed to pick up a few things.

She stared quizzically at Ryder. “Isn’t it better for the company if I quit, because then you—”

“Technically, I suppose, if you’re looking at the issue from that particular standpoint, it—” Ryder interrupted himself as frustration surged through him. “We are not discussing the ins and outs of unemployment compensation, Joanna! Stick to the topic at hand.”

“I am!” Joanna met his glare with one of her own. “The issue at hand is me leaving Fortune’s Design.”

She decided that one thing she was
not
going to miss about Ryder Fortune was the way the veins in his neck bulged when he was infuriated. Like now.

“You’ve been wanting to get rid of me for weeks, and today I’ve given you more than just cause to fire
me. Not even Julia herself could fault you for it. But I…I offered to quit so you wouldn’t be hassled with unemployment forms,” she added grandly.

“Give me a break, Joanna.” Ryder hooted with laughter. “You were acting on sheer impulse. You didn’t give a thought to unemployment benefits until I mentioned them.”

“As always, you have to have the last word. All right, fine. Whatever. I didn’t think about collecting unemployment. There, the last word is yours, Ryder.”

Joanna was seething. Maybe she hadn’t considered her unemployment benefits, but she had given careful thought to what she believed was her unselfish act—relieving Ryder and the company of her and her mistakes. And instead of being appreciative, he’d managed to turn her noble gesture into something stupid. Something typical of an “idiot assistant.”

Well, she’d had enough. More than enough. Like Miss Volk, as of today she was history here at Fortune’s Design. “I’m going to clear out my desk and get my coat and purse and go home,” she declared, heading into the office they shared.

Ryder followed her, pulling the door closed behind him. And locking it.

Joanna opened the bottom drawer of her desk to retrieve her purse, but Ryder was right behind her. He swiftly extended his foot, using it to slam the drawer shut.

She straightened and jumped back, shocked. “What are you—”

“You’re not going anywhere, Joanna.”

Her eyes widened as she took in his unyielding stance. He’d moved to stand directly in front of her desk and was now blocking her access to it. He looked ready to tackle anybody foolish enough to attempt to get around him. Joanna was not about to try.

She was genuinely perplexed. Didn’t he get it? She was ridding Fortune’s Design of her maddening presence. So where was his smile of triumph? He ought to be dancing around his desk singing, instead of guarding hers like a police dog.

“I need to get my things, Ryder.” She spoke slowly and clearly, the way her speech therapists talked to patients who were having difficulty with comprehension. “I’m going home now.”

“It’s not time to go home yet, Joanna,” Ryder mimicked her delivery. “It’s only two o’clock. That’s too early to leave the office. Even Miss Volk managed to hang in till five o’clock.”

“But…but I—”

“You have a lot of work to do this afternoon, Joanna,” he said brusquely. “You have to recreate my entire electronic schedule. And since Ike Olsen and I plan to go to D.C. at the end of the month to meet with an examiner in the Patent Office, you’ll need to make my travel arrangements. I’ll be gone overnight so book me into a hotel the evening of the thirty-first. I want an early flight out that morning and a late-afternoon flight back to Minneapolis on April first.”

Joanna stood stock-still, staring at the stripes on his tie. He couldn’t have said anything to astonish her more.

After listening to his daily diatribes about making his own travel arrangements for his L.A. trip—because he didn’t trust her to do it—Joanna was fully aware that his directive was far more than a routine order. It was an olive branch. A sign that he was willing to forgive and forget her previous flub.

Then again, it was possible that she’d misinterpreted him. “You…want me to make your travel arrangements to D.C.?” she asked, just to be certain.

Ryder cleared his throat. “That’s what I said, yes.”

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll forget to do it and then you’ll be stuck going to D.C. via Asia or some equally arduous route?” She couldn’t resist repeating one of his many taunts back to him.

“I want you to make the travel arrangements, Joanna.”

Maybe it wasn’t an olive branch at all; maybe it was a trap. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, biting it lightly. “But why? Especially after my computer screwup today?”

His eyes tracked her every gesture, focusing on her mouth. He drew a sharp breath. “I’m assuming that you didn’t do it intentionally, Joanna.”

“No, of course not, but—”

“Computer mishaps can happen to anyone. Occasionally, even me,” he added magnanimously.

Aaron had offered her that same excuse, Joanna recalled. She’d found it lame then, and she wasn’t buying it now. “What I caused was worse than a mishap. It was more like computer mayhem, Ryder.”

“But unintentional computer mayhem,” he insisted.

She folded her arms in front of her chest. Just when she’d thought he couldn’t say anything to astonish her more, he did. “Ryder, did you have one of those three-martini lunches today?”

“I didn’t even have one martini, and my judgment isn’t impaired by alcohol, Joanna.” His lips twitched as he failed to suppress a smile. “The entire incident is no big deal, but you’ve lost your perspective and blown it way out of proportion.”

He saw her doubtful expression and pressed on. “Look, if any of those e-mail messages are of vital importance, the senders will post them again or get in touch with me by phone. Most were probably the equivalent of junk mail, anyway.”

“Warren said that, too,” Joanna blurted out, “but that doesn’t—”

“Since you mentioned Warren,” Ryder interjected, “call him now and tell him you won’t be going to Surf City tonight. You can’t, because you’ll be working late.”

Joanna noticed that his smile had been erased as completely as his e-mail. She was on shaky ground here. “If I’m working late tonight, I guess that means I still have a job?”

“I guess it does, Joanna. Now call your friends in Marketing and bail out of tonight’s excursion.”

She called Warren, though her conversation with him was decidedly short and stilted. How could it be anything else, with Ryder standing less than a foot
away from her, obviously listening to every single word?

Joanna hung up quickly. “They’re still going tonight.” She felt the need to break the thick silence that had descended over the office like a layer of volcanic ash.

“I guess we can forget anything getting done in Marketing tomorrow.” Ryder scowled. “After a night at Surf City, their brains will be collectively fried.”

“Maybe not. You and I left there with our brains intact,” she pointed out.

“I disagree,” Ryder replied, and he gazed into her eyes.

Joanna blushed and looked away. He was coming dangerously close to bringing up their uncharacteristic behavior that night, breaking their unspoken pact not to allude to what had happened between them. Until now, neither one of them had.

Already off balance from his determination to absolve her of any wrongdoing today, she knew she couldn’t deal with sexual innuendo, however remote. “Well, we’ve wasted enough time today, let’s get back to work,” she said, striving to sound like a driven, type-A workaholic.

“You’ve taken the words right out of my mouth.” Ryder grinned.

A powerful surge of combined relief and happiness made her nearly giddy. Joanna smiled back at him.

“Of course, I backed up my electronic schedule on a diskette,” Ryder said, retrieving it from a box on
his desk. “And I also keep a handwritten calendar, as yet another backup.”

“I should’ve known you’d have backups for your backup.” Joanna gazed at him admiringly. “You’re thorough, Ryder. You keep track of all the details without losing sight of the big picture.” She’d heard Julia describe Michael that way and decided it was applicable to Ryder, as well.

“Ah, lavish praise from my assistant.” Ryder actually laughed. “Have you been reading those how-to-run-with-the-crocodiles office guides, Joanna?”

“I believe it’s called
How to Swim with the Sharks.
And no, I wasn’t sucking up to you, Ryder. I meant what I said.”

They looked at each other. This time it was Ryder who lowered his gaze first. “Do you want to reload the schedule from the diskette to the hard drive, Joanna?”

“Are you sure you trust me near that machine?” She joined him at his desk. “It does strange things when I’m around.”

“Go figure,” Ryder gritted. His pulses were pounding in his head, and his entire body ached with a tension that grew more taut with every breath he took. Yes, Joanna had a definite effect on whatever she was around.

“Here, sit down.” He stood up, offering her his chair.

Joanna slipped into the chair, but Ryder didn’t move away. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to
watch what she did and how she did it, not after the electronic calamity she’d committed earlier.

But did he have to stand so close? Joanna swallowed. He was very close indeed, as he leaned over the chair. Leaned over her. When he placed his hands on both arms of the chair, she was effectively caged between Ryder and the desk. She sat ramrod straight because if she moved back even a hairbreadth, her head, her shoulders or her arms would be touching him.

Her fingers stumbled over the keys. She accidentally hit the button marked Shift, and the calendar on the monitor screen took a crazy lurch to the left.

“Oops,” she mumbled.

“It’s okay.” Ryder bent and leaned in closer.

Now their bodies touched, and Ryder caught her subtle scent, an ethereal perfume he couldn’t name but associated only with her. It seemed to make every nerve ending in his skin come alive. He turned his head slightly, his eyes tracing her profile; so close that he could see the muscles in her throat move as she gulped.

“Ryder, your schedule won’t be—”

“Not to worry,” he said huskily, pressing a key that righted the contents on the screen.

Joanna trembled. They were finally touching, and she wanted to be even closer to him. Their eyes met, and she knew that what she saw in his was reflected in her own. Desire. Excitement. And affection.

“I can’t think.” Her voice was faint, but laced with
wry humor. “Not a good thing when I’m supposed to be working, Ryder.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll coach you,” he murmured, his lips against her hair.

He made his instructions simple, taking each step so slowly and precisely that even little Felicity and Phoebe could’ve followed them. And while he spoke, his hand moved to her neck to sweep her hair from her nape.

His fingers kneaded the tense muscles there, his strokes gentle but firm. And intensely arousing. He extended the massage to her clavicle and her shoulders. Joanna squirmed in the chair, as wild, sweet, almost unbearably exciting sensations ricocheted through her.

“This is supposed to relax you,” Ryder’s low voice sounded in her ear, his breath warm against the curve of her throat. “Is it working?”

Joanna felt light-headed. She closed her eyes, concentrating hard on suppressing a moan of pure pleasure.

“It’s definitely working,” she breathed, “but I don’t know if
relax
is exactly the right word to describe what you’re doing to me.”

Her words had an intense effect upon Ryder, as if she’d caressed him with her delicate, long-fingered hands now resting idly on the keyboard. Raw need surged through him.

He swiveled the chair toward him, reaching down to catch Joanna’s arms and lift her to her feet.

“
This
is what you’re doing to me,” he growled,
pulling her against him. Letting her feel the hard strength of his erection.

He slanted his mouth over hers, drinking in her small gasp, his tongue sliding over hers to rub and stroke in erotic simulation. She clung to him, holding nothing back, trapping his right thigh between hers, her hips pressed hard against him.

He slid one big hand under her skirt and cupped her intimately, shifting the hot damp silk to create friction, his fingers parting her as she shivered with uncontrolled pleasure. She groaned into his mouth and slipped her own hand between their bodies to trace the virile shape of him.

She felt him throb against her palm. He was hard, achingly hard, as ready for her as she was for him. Their kisses grew deeper and hungrier, his tongue mimicking the motions of his fingers as he caressed her.

Joanna was dizzy with passion. She wanted, she needed, she loved—

She loved him!
Defying common sense and her own best advice to herself, she had fallen in love with her boss, Ryder Fortune.

Emotions that she had been suppressing broke through and overwhelmed her. She’d never felt this way before, never experienced this wanting to give to a man, to share herself with him. Now she understood why she wanted to be near him, why she’d stayed at this office with him, though he’d certainly been a bear to her at times.

But other times…she’d come to understand and ad
mire Ryder, she enjoyed his prickly sense of humor. There were plenty of times when they were quite in sync, though even his decidedly difficult nature appealed to her.

Dealing with Ryder was challenging, and she was a person who responded well to challenge. An easy man would not interest her.

The insight was so stunning that it smashed the sensual cocoon enveloping her. Joanna was abruptly dragged back into the unwelcome realities of time and space. She and Ryder were about to make love right here in the office, right here on his big desk, whose sleek modern design made it resemble a high-tech spaceship more than a traditional piece of office furniture.