In Bed With Her Tall, Sexy Handsome Boss: All Night with the Boss / The Boss's Wife for a Week / My Tall Dark Greek Boss. Natalie Anderson

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In Bed With Her Tall, Sexy Handsome Boss: All Night with the Boss / The Boss's Wife for a Week / My Tall Dark Greek Boss - Natalie Anderson


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shirt, wrapping it tightly around her. It was finished. It had to be.

      ‘I’m going home tonight, Rory. Even if I have to walk there barefoot and break the window to get in. I’m going home.’

      He stared at her moodily.

      ‘You can’t have everything your own way,’ she continued, looking away from the disappointment she glimpsed in his eyes.

      ‘I want you to stay.’

      She jerked her head back. It had sounded suspiciously like a command.

      His green irises darkened, drawing her in. ‘We have to talk about this.’

      She rose from the sofa, turning her back on him, ignoring his frustrated growl. She needed to keep this light. Not enter into a heavy conversation in which declarations might be made. False promises, the rashness of passion. Better to chalk it down to a fun weekend—one to be walked away from. ‘What would you have me do—stay here for ever as your sexual playmate?’ She glanced over her shoulder at him.

      A wolfish grin leapt across his features. ‘Not a bad idea.’

      She ignored him and started on her arguments. ‘I’m going back to work tomorrow. I need to get home and sort my stuff out.’

      ‘I don’t think you should. You’re still pale, you look exhausted.’

      ‘And who’s to blame for that? You think I’m going to get much sleep here?’

      ‘What if I promise not to touch you?’

      She threw him a sceptical look. ‘Look what happened the last time you promised that. Forty-eight hours later you were ravaging me in the stairwell. I need to get back to work. They’ll be getting a temp in to cover for the temp. I want to go, Rory.’

      He studied her and she met his gaze squarely. He looked sombre and she knew she had won.

      ‘OK, I’ll run you home after dinner.’

      ‘No, I should go now.’

      ‘After dinner.’ He spoke abruptly. He looked at her and softened a little. ‘I’ve seen what’s in your fridge, remember?’

      She decided to quit while ahead.

      They barely spoke through the meal. She tried to eat something but her appetite had vanished. She caught him looking at her several times with knowledge in his eyes and, coward-like, she looked away, trying to buy a few minutes’ more time before she had it out with him. Despite the frenzied love-making they had just shared her body was starting to ache with want again and she knew she needed to get away from him fast.

      They drove across London in silence. His car wasn’t too flashy, not a convertible, but big, German and fast with plenty of leg-room. Many women would be wowed. She wasn’t. She didn’t like thinking of him wowing the ladies as she’d joked that first night. She stared out the window, her mind absently ticking off the sights, her heart, for once, not in it. It was occupied by something else. The big, tall hunk of a man next to her she was determined to reject.

      He pulled up in front of the estate. He turned the engine off. She made no effort to move. They sat in silence. Her brain whirred.

      Finally he looked at her and sighed. ‘Go on, then, say it.’

      ‘Say what?’

      ‘Whatever it is that’s been on your mind all evening.’

      She stared at him and then focussed ahead on the motorbike parked outside one of the ground-floor units. He was right, time to say it.

      ‘I wanted to say thank you for being so good to me while I was sick.’

      ‘And?’ he prompted. He wasn’t making things any easier.

      ‘And I really appreciate it, I do. And I wanted to thank you for…’ she faltered as she searched for the words ‘…for giving me such a great weekend.’ She could feel the heat from her blush on her cheeks. This was ridiculous; she sounded like a schoolgirl thanking her best friend’s parents for a nice trip to the movies.

      ‘But?’ he prompted again.

      She grimaced at his ability to pick her mood so easily. ‘But I don’t think we can continue this any further.’

      ‘What?’ he asked.

      She turned and looked at him. ‘We go back to being work colleagues tomorrow,’ she said firmly. ‘Nothing more.’ The fatal words were uttered and she felt her heart shatter into a million pieces.

      Chapter Eight

      INCREDIBLY Rory laughed. He threw his head back and laughed, really hard. ‘You’re kidding, right?’

      Lissa stared at him, shocked.

      He sobered and stared back. ‘You’re serious.’ The wonder in his tone did nothing for her confidence. A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. ‘Lissa, don’t you get it? It’s too late. The volcano’s erupted, the dam’s burst, the horse has bolted. The genie is out of the bottle—’

      ‘Enough with the clichés.’ she interrupted sarcastically.

      He carried on, ignoring her. ‘There’s no going back. We’re on a runaway train, darling. There’s nothing you can do but hang on for the ride.’

      And wait for it to crash? No, thank you. She inhaled deeply and spoke sharply. ‘Stop it. Next you’ll be talking in management speak. All about low-hanging fruit and synergy.’

      ‘Well, we do have the most amazing synergy.’ He sighed. ‘Lissa, you can’t be serious. We’ve just had the most incredible weekend together. I know you haven’t wanted to talk about it, but you can’t deny it. This isn’t just anything. This is special. Why can’t we enjoy it while it lasts?’

      For once it was panic rather than lust speeding up her pulse. ‘Rory, it was just great sex.’ She stared at the motorcycle. How could she ever have thought this was going to be easy? This was Rory, champion charmer and people manager.

      ‘That’s bull and you know it.’ He seemed to be going for the less charm, more honest approach. ‘We made love, Lissa. Your words. Remember?’

      She gulped and tried to ignore the direct hit. She couldn’t let it work. ‘No, Rory, it finishes. You know you’re the same. You never blur the line between your private life and your professionalism.’

      ‘Professionalism?’ He swore sharply. ‘This is crazy. You’re wanting to throw this away on some temp job?’

      She clenched her teeth together. The panic receded and anger ran icily through her veins. He thought it was just some temp job, did he?

      ‘Yes, I am,’ she said coldly. ‘Because that temp job is important to me.’

      She saw anger flash in his eyes. ‘Don’t you think it’s just a little too late for this?’

      ‘It’s never too late. These things can be contained. It was a fling, Rory, that’s all.’

      ‘Really?’ His eyes glittered and she realised she’d just made him very, very angry.

      Before she could move he’d leaned across and pressed his lips to hers. Not hard and fierce, but gentle and tender. Taken by surprise, she let her guard slip. Her mouth softened and, oh, so skilfully he parted her lips with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. It was beautiful. Absurdly she wanted to cling to him. Why did he have to make this so hard? He lifted his head, his eyes still flashing fire.

      She looked back at him, willing the silly tears in her own eyes to disappear. The awful tiredness had returned and she just wanted to crawl off into bed. With him, but that was something she could barely admit to herself.

      ‘Why do you want to stop this?’ he asked softly, and she closed her eyes against the desire she saw in his and summoned the anger and hurt she’d felt in the past.


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