The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad: The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad. Marie Ferrarella
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“I will, I promise.” She scooted back her chair. “As soon as I get back from the restroom.”
“What?” he demanded in mock outrage. “Some friend you are.”
“Come on, we both know you can handle her. Be right back.”
She made quick work of her trip to the bathroom, not because she was worried about Rick—he could take care of himself. But she was having fun and didn’t want to miss a minute of the adventure.
Over fish and chips they got involved in the rugby game, she rooting for Ireland while he cheered for Wales. The dart tournament got louder still, the waitress flirted some more and Savannah had a ball.
The game ended and they donned their coats and walked down the street toward Buckingham Palace to catch a cab. It amazed her that some of the shops were still open, but when she glanced at her watch it was only seven.
“Wait. In here.” Rick caught her hand. Startled by the searing touch she stopped in her tracks. He pulled her toward a leather and coat shop. “We can get you some gloves.”
“Oh, no,” She held back. “I’ll find some closer to the hotel.”
“Come on. Let’s at least see what they have.” He opened the door and ushered her inside.
The rich scent of leather pleasantly filled the small store. Savannah reluctantly followed Rick to the accessory section where he selected several pairs for her to try on. She did so, marveling at the suppleness and warmth. She particularly enjoyed a pair made of leather with a fleece lining; the quality and fit were exquisite. They were so soft, so warm she didn’t want to take them off. But she must.
“Those are a nice fit,” Rick said.
“Yes.” A little sad, a little embarrassed, she pulled them off. “Rick, it’s so nice of you to stop here, but, really, I can’t afford these.”
“But you like them?”
“Of course.” She placed them back on the rack. “But that’s not the point.”
“It’s exactly the point.” He retrieved the gloves and handed them to the hovering clerk along with a pair of men’s gloves. “We’ll take both.”
“Rick, no,” Savannah protested. “I can’t get these.”
“You’re not. I’m getting them.”
Touched, she still shook her head. “I can’t let you do that.”
“You have no choice. They’re a gift for your help today.” He handed the clerk his credit card.
“Rick, this isn’t necessary.”
“I know. I want to get them for you.” After pocketing his wallet he placed the bag in her hands. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you.” Letting the fun and ease of the evening direct her, she gave in to impulse and lifted onto her toes to kiss his cheek.
Desire flared in his eyes. He appeared to struggle with himself for a moment, then he lowered his head and covered her mouth with his. For one glorious minute he consumed her, drawing a response from her that met his passionate demand.
When he pulled back, she’d all but forgotten where she was.
While she regrouped, he ran a finger down her cheek. “My apologies. That’s the last time that can happen.”
Not quite able to wrap her tongue around words, she nodded mutely.
With a return to his stoic expression, he stepped back. “We should head back to the hotel.”
Rick stared hard at his reflection in the mirror the next morning as he finished shaving. He didn’t look any different. Didn’t really feel different, but something was off.
Maybe it was jet lag or something in the water here in England, but there had to be an explanation for his uncharacteristic behavior. Playing tourist, flirting, kissing his assistant: Was he insane? He had no business having fun.
Okay, that was wrong. He deserved to have fun as much as the next guy. But not with Savannah. He had no business having fun with his assistant. The next time she wanted to play tourist she was on her own.
Huh, that thought certainly took the punch out of his day. He attributed the curious sense of letdown to delayed jet lag rather than to the disquieting notion of Savannah being out and about on her own. Not that she’d hesitate. The woman was fearless, which wasn’t the same as being safe. Though the Lord knew she made friends wherever she went. Take the cougar last night. Propositioning him in the hallway one moment and laughing like old friends with Savannah the next.
He tossed down the towel and reached for his deodorant.
The problem was, he’d had a great time last night.
Watching the game, sharing the camaraderie of the crowd, eating the simple but good food. And with Savannah seated across from him making him laugh.
Swish and rinse. Finished, he dropped his toothbrush in a cup and set his shaving kit aside.
Again she’d made him laugh. He enjoyed the company of women, but they didn’t engage him. He didn’t let them. But Savannah slid under his guard and challenged him in so many ways.
But it had to stop. No more laughing, no more flirting, no more giving her gifts, and certainly no more nibbling on her plump bottom lip.
Now he felt downright deflated. Yes, it was definitely jet lag.
The phone was ringing when he entered the parlor suite. Savannah sat at the table eating muffins for breakfast. She began to rise, but he waved her off and answered the phone himself.
It was Crosse calling to set up an appointment for four that afternoon.
“His attorneys are going over the changes and they’ll have a counteroffer to us within the next couple of days,” Rick told Savannah after hanging up the phone. “We’ll have two days to review and respond. He’s hoping we’ll be able to celebrate with dinner before we leave.”
“That’s great news,” she enthused. “Did he say what the changes were?”
“No, but he said they were minor. I’m not expecting anything too shocking.”
He was right. When the contract arrived and they reviewed the noted changes, most were in areas where Rick had already built in room for negotiation. Only one required him to get on the phone to the company attorney.
He and Savannah made a good team, taking care of the details and wrapping up loose ends. He felt great going into the meeting the next day.
His confidence was rewarded when an agreement was reached and the contracts were signed. The relief and satisfaction were huge, even more so than when he’d closed the deal with Emerson. Maybe because he’d come close to failing this time, something he wasn’t used to, but he didn’t think so; this fit felt right. He respected Crosse and they actually hit it off once they began to communicate properly.
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