The Secretary's Bossman Bargain (11 page)

When he hung up, he gazed out the window at the passing car lights and said, “You’ll wire yourself the money from my account and take care of your problem straight away. Promptly, tomorrow morning.”

A command. As an authoritative man and, also, her boss.

“Understand?”

She hadn’t noticed she’d flattened her hand on his chest until his own big one came to cover hers. She watched their fingers entwine. Lovers’ fingers.

God, she’d done the most reckless thing. Look at her—draped all over her boss. Imagine if this ever got out? If people knew? Worse of all, her tummy was in a twist because she loathed for it to stop. And it had to—tonight. “Yes, I’ll take care of it right away,” she murmured, and on impulse took a good long whiff of his familiar scent.

“I’ve been thinking.” Marcos turned her hand around for his inspection and his thumb began to slowly circle the center of her palm. “I’d like to offer your father a job.”

“A job?”

“I figure if he realized he could be useful, he’d break the cycle of vice he seems to be stuck in.”

She thought about it, still resting her cheek against his chest, feeling utterly contented and yet dreading tomorrow when that feeling could be replaced with unease. “Why?” she asked then.

He quirked an eyebrow, then narrowed his eyes. “Why what?”

She fingered the heavy cross at his throat. “Why…him?”

“Why not?”

She shrugged, but her heart began to flutter at the prospect. “Maybe he’s just hopeless.” As hopeless as she was. How would she bear Monday at the office? She was terribly in lust with the man. He was an extraordinary lover, made her feel so sexy and wild she wanted to take all kinds of risks with him, and now he offered her father this incredible lifeline?

“Maybe he is hopeless,” Marcos agreed, chuckling.

But no, he was not hopeless, no one was. A smile appeared on her face. “Or maybe he will want one more chance.” And maybe she could handle Monday after all.

She’d survived so far, had feigned not to want Marcos for days and weeks and months. Now she’d act as though nothing had happened. As though when he looked at her, her insides didn’t leap with joy, and when he smiled at her, her stomach didn’t quiver.

He smiled at her then, causing all kinds of happenings in her body, and stroked her cheek with his warm hand. “I’ve looked into him. He was a smart, dedicated man, and he could be one again.”

Virginia contemplated his words, pleased that Marcos was smart enough to look past her father’s mistakes and see the hardworking man underneath. And a plan formed in her mind. Her father had managed a large chain store so successfully that, if everything hadn’t gone downhill after her mother’s death, he’d be CEO by now.

“You know, Marcos,” she said quietly, straightening on a burst of inspiration, “I think he might enjoy coming to Mexico.”

Silence fell. The car swerved to the left and into the small airport driveway. Virginia remembered the look of grim solemnity in Marcos’s face during their tour of Allende and she plunged on.

“He might even enjoy working at Allende,” she said. She tossed the bait lightly, hoping to plant some kernel of doubt in him so he’d reconsider his decision regarding the company’s future. But he went so still, she almost regretted it.

He stared at her with a calculating expression, then gazed out at the waiting jet. “Maybe.”

Neither said another word, but when he pulled her close, ducked his head and kissed her, she fought not to feel a painful pang.

This was where they’d first kissed.

It only made sense it would be where they had their last.

She was tidying up his office the next morning when Marcos halted at the doorway. The sight of Virginia fiddling with the coffeemaker froze him, then heated up his blood.

As she poured a cup—black, as he liked it—the plain buttoned-up shirt she wore stretched across her breasts in a way that made watching feel like purgatory.

“Good morning.”

She glanced up with a soft gasp. “Marcos—Mr. Allende.” And there went her breasts again, swelling, pert and lovely as she took a little breath.

His heart thudded as they stared at each other, the words lingering in the air. Mr. Allende.

A word meant to erase everything that had happened in Monterrey, Mexico.

Having never expected she would make it this easy, he stepped inside and pulled the doors shut behind him. “Good morning, Miss Hollis.”

He really could do this.

They’d pretended to be lovers before.

Now they would pretend they never had been.

Black coffee mug cradled against her chest, Virginia stared at him with the glazed wariness of a woman who feared that a man knew her secrets. “Can I get you anything, Mr. Allende?”

You.

He bit off the word, pulled off his jacket and tossed it onto the L-shaped sofa before he started for his desk. His head buzzed with thoughts of her. Her, smiling up at him from her place on his lap. She had an obsession with tidiness, and it showed. His office was pristine. She was a tidy little box, his Miss Hollis. Who would’ve known she’d be such a wanton in bed? So uninhibited? So sexy? So addictive?

“I hear you arrived home safely,” he said, his groin stirring at the memory of their lovemaking. Dammit, don’t go there, man.

“Yes, thank you.” She flashed him one of those smiles that made his thoughts scramble. “And I caught up on my sleep a little.”

“Excellent. Excellent.”

His body clenched at her admission, for he hadn’t had a wink of sleep since their return. He kept remembering her, innocent, cuddled up against him.

Diablos, he had never imagined he’d once again look at Monterrey with longing. Now he did.

He longed to be there with his assistant for another week where he knew exactly what to do with her.

Lips thinning in disgust at his own erotic thoughts, he took the coffee cup from her hands when she passed it to him and dismissed her with a wave. No use in delaying their parting. “That will be all. Thank you, Miss Hollis.”

And with a painful wrench of mental muscle, he tore his eyes away and pushed her from his mind.

He had a business to take over.

Chicago felt different. The wind was the same, the noise, the traffic, and yet, it felt so different. She’d had to face Marcos at the office again today. Yesterday, their nonchalance toward each other had been so borderline pathetic she’d felt nauseated by the time she got home.

This morning, unable to stomach coffee, she made her way down the hall. The door to the extra bedroom where her father had been sleeping for the past couple of months was shut, and Virginia pressed her palm against it for a long moment, wondering if she should wake him. Let him know she was leaving for work. That everything had been taken care of and his debt absolved.

She decided she would call later instead and carried her small black duffel bag outside where the taxi waited, remembering Marcos’s offer to give her father a job.

It had been easy then, to accept anything he’d wanted to give her. They’d been…involved. Now, Marcos Allende could calmly forget about it, as he’d forgotten the rest.

Worst of all was it hurt.

Even when she’d expected it.

As she stepped onto the amazingly busy Fintech nineteenth floor, Virginia hoped every employee would be in their usual flurries of movement and therefore too busy to notice she was fifteen minutes late.

But notice her they did.

The very moment her heels hit the carpet, a quiet spread throughout.

For the second day in a row, people glanced up from the copy machines. Behind their desks, heads lifted. The fact that everyone, everyone in the vast open space, knew and had probably discussed the fact that she had spent a week with Marcos in Monterrey became brutally evident. Deep inside, where all her fears were kept in a tight little bundle, she heard something.

They say she’s his lover…

Had someone spoken that? Was she putting words and thoughts into their mouths because of her own regrets?

Dragging in a calming breath, she crossed the sea of cubicles, then went down the art-packed hallway. At the far end, to the right of the massive carved doors that led to Marcos’s office, three identical rosewood desks stood. She slid in behind hers. The savvy Mrs. Fuller, who’d been with Marcos “longer than his mother has,” was quick to make her way around her own tidy work place and greet Virginia. “He’s very strange today,” the older woman said, wide-eyed. “He smiled at me and he said ‘thank you.’”

The words didn’t diminish the kernel of fear settled in the pit of Virginia’s stomach. If she so much as stepped out of her boundaries this week and onward…if she was fool enough to even remind him of Mexico…she dared not think of who would be sitting behind her desk next week.

“Then the deal must be going in his favor.” Virginia attempted a teasing smile as she turned to get settled.

Lindsay, a young redhead near Virginia’s age who’d also become her friend, drew up next to Mrs. Fuller. Their expressions were those of genuine excitement. “How was Mexico?” the older woman asked as Virginia sank into her chair and gazed at the top of her desk. A picture of her mother. A fake orchid. Her yellow markers sticking out of a silver can.

“Was it hot? I hear it’s sweltering this time of year,” Mrs. Fuller insisted. Virginia hadn’t seen the woman yesterday since they’d reached Fintech later than normal.

“Yes,” Virginia said, having no other answer to give a woman who was known through the entire building as levelheaded and kind.

As Mrs. Fuller’s concerned gray eyes bored into the top of Virginia’s head, she wished she could have been spared this encounter with even more fervor than she’d wished to avoid her last one with the dentist.

“He’s been gazing out the window all morning, and with so much to do, that is so unlike him,” Lindsay confessed under her cinnamon-scented breath. “And he asked me where you were.”

Virginia was spared having to reply when the phones began their usual music. Struck as though by lightning, both Lindsay and Mrs. Fuller were spurred to action. They jumped behind their desks and began tackling the calls.

Ignoring the telephone ringing equally obnoxiously on her desk, Virginia tucked the duffel into the nook under the computer. She would not, could not, think of his mood meaning anything. Their deal would be over soon, after the Fintech dinner, and they would forget Mexico. He had promised it would not affect her job.

Inspecting her drawers and taking out her personal notepad and the colored clips she’d bought in a burst of secretarial enthusiasm, Virginia felt her throat close at the sudden memory of her mother. That hopeful light always in her eyes. Her warm, caring smile. She had always had a saying to cheer Virginia up. Would she have one for Virginia today? One about there always being something better out there? Better than Marcos?

“Miss Hollis, I hear you were out with the boss?”

She started in surprise. Fredrick Mendez, one of the youngest accountants, had propped his hip onto the corner of her desk and was eyeing her with a combination of amusement and mock despair.

“For a week,” she stressed as she straightened in her chair.

“That’s too much, Miss Hollis. Too much time without you. So, did you bring me a key chain?”

“Did you ask for one?”

“All right, at least show us some pictures,” Fredrick insisted. But when Virginia’s usual friendly smile just would not come, he fell to his knees and clutched a hand to his chest. “Oh, Virginia, thy eyes shalt truth reveal—”

“Am I running a circus here, Mendez?”

The deep, clear voice, but most of all, the distinguished accent, struck Virginia like a cannon blast.

Her eyes flew to locate the source. Inches away, exiting the conference room and on his way to her, Marcos Allende was a sight to behold. Power and sophistication oozed from his every pore. His stride was slow and confident, his expression perfectly composed. And his every step kicked up her heartbeat. Six of his top lawyers followed.

Upon realizing who’d spoken, Fredrick’s pale complexion turned in the space of a second to a tomato-red. He jumped to his feet and smoothed a hand along his polka-dot tie. “No, sir. I was just welcoming Virginia back on our behalf.”

“Our?” He said the word as though Fredrick had no right to include himself in something he hadn’t been invited to.

Turning to where Virginia sat with perfect poise behind the desk, Marcos thrust his hands into his pockets and silently contemplated her. “Don’t you have work to do other than hound Miss Hollis,” he said softly, and there was no doubt whom he addressed.

Fredrick took off with a mumbled “Yes, sir.”

Without removing his eyes from her, he also said, “Brief me on the new stipulations when they’re in.”

In unison, the lawyers expressed their agreement and dispersed.

Without the buffer of their presence, there was nothing to pry those jealous black eyes from hers, no shield from the scorching possessiveness flickering in their depths.

Suddenly breathless, Virginia wondered if the blouse she wore today might be too white, or a little sheer? If her skirt was too short, her hair too unruly, the silver hoop earrings inappropriate for Fintech?

Meanwhile Marcos was the epitome of the worldly businessman.

He filled his black Armani like it had been tailor-made for those broad, square shoulders, which tapered down to his lean waist and narrow hips.

God! She could not believe the dark, breathtaking creature before her was her lover from Mexico.

Suddenly, as their gazes held, their eyes screaming with something dark and sinful, Virginia was certain the entire room thought she had slept with him. They say she’s his lover…

Please, God, let no one ever know.

“Marcos,” she said, moderating her tone. “I’m sorry I’m late, but I—”

Hands planted on the desk, Marcos stretched his arms out and in a single fluid move leaned forward. As his face neared her, Virginia saw Mrs. Fuller’s eyes turn to saucers, and Lindsay almost fell back in her chair.

When the tip of his nose almost touched hers, she could focus on nothing else but six feet three inches of Marcos Allende. He ducked his head.

“Do you remember our deal?”

The murmur couldn’t have been heard by anyone else. But she felt as if the clock, the world, stopped.

The feel of his breath on her face sent a torrent of warmth through her singing veins. “Yes, of course, I remember.”

He leaned back a bit, regarding her as though he expected the same illumination he seemed to have experienced to have struck her, too. “After-work hours were included, weren’t they?”

She couldn’t explain the thrill she experienced, this inspiring and overwhelming happiness. He was asking for more, more from her, and not until this moment when she had his full attention had she realized how thirsty she’d been for it. “They were. Why do you ask? Is it that you need some assistance?”

His smile, slow in reaching completion, was meltingly sexy. “I do.”

They say she’s his lover…

She was plunging into a bottomless pit where surely there was nothing but heartache, and still, her blood was thrilling in her veins. “I’m always happy to be of assistance.”

He gazed directly at her—the intent in his eyes unmistakable. “Be certain you present yourself at my apartment this evening. There’s much to do.”

She flushed beet-red, and scribbled in a yellow Post-it, Is this what I think it is?

He read it and tucked the note into his jacket, not before stroking her thumb with his, and sent her a look of such emotion and longing she almost wept. “Six p.m. sharp, Miss Hollis. I’m afraid it’s an all-nighter.”

He’d already started for his office when she blurted, “I can handle all-nighters.”

“Good. This one’s particularly hard.”

When the doors closed shut behind him, whispers erupted, and Mrs. Fuller jumped to her feet and raced toward her in a flurry of mortification.

“Virginia. Please don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”

Heart pumping irregularly, Virginia grabbed her notepad. “I’d better go. The sales projections start in a few minutes and Marcos will want my notes.” Oh, God, they had seen and heard all that, hadn’t they?

Virginia, like putty in his hands. Marcos, suggesting she go to his place to…to…behave wickedly.

But the woman caught her by the shoulders and clenched tight with her fists, her face stricken. “Oh, sweetie, please say it isn’t so!”

“Mrs. Fuller,” Virginia said in a placating voice, patting one of her hands for good measure. “I don’t know what you mean, but there is nothing going on here, nothing!”