In Bed with the Boss Page 7

She made a face at him. “Hit me with it.”

  “I have examples.”

  “Of?”

  “Offices romances that worked out great. Better than great.”

  “Oh, yeah, right, sure.”

  “Let’s see….Jack Hanson, Helen’s stepson, and his wife, Samantha. Samantha and Jack were old business rivals. Then she came to work at Hanson Media—with Jack. And then there’s David Hanson, George Hanson’s brother. He actually married his secretary, Nina. Can you believe that?”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll modify my position.”

  “You bet you will.”

  “Sometimes office romances do work out.”

  “Say that again.”

  “I’m willing to admit that not all office romances end badly. How’s that?”

  “Better.”

  She cleared her throat. Still, when she spoke her voice came out breathless and much too hopeful. “So. Are you going to…kiss me again?”

  “I should.” He dropped his hand from the wall beside her and stepped back. “But breathe easy. You’re safe from my kisses. For the moment, anyway.”

  “You’ve got to stop making me want to believe you,” she told him, softly—and much too sincerely. “You know that, don’t you?”

  “There’s no damn harm in believing the truth.” He sighed. “See you at breakfast tomorrow. At 7:00 a.m.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  He left her, wheeling his suitcase to the next door down and disappearing inside.

  Chapter Five

  Tom was waiting in the booth when Shelly entered the hotel coffee shop the next morning. The hostess brought her to him.

  She wore a straight skirt and a snug white shirt and he thought he’d never seen a woman so fresh and sweet and sexy, all at the same time. Shamelessly enjoying the view, he watched her slide into the seat opposite him.

  “Coffee,” she said to the hostess. “Thanks….” She gave the other woman that amazing wide smile. And then she turned to him. He watched the color bloom upward over he neck and cheeks. “Tom. You’re staring.”

  “Yeah. I am. Is that a problem for you?”

  “I don’t think I’m going to answer that question.” She glanced at her watch. “It’s six-thirty.”

  “So?”

  “You’re way early, Tom.”

  “You, too.”

  “But I’m always early. It’s my job to be here ahead of you.”

  “I was up. I came on down.”

  “You look tired.”

  “I am, a little. The dinner with Robby and Ned went late. And the problems at the site…”

  “You’re worried.”

  “Let’s just say I’m concerned.” And making matters worse was the specter of Drake Thatcher. Tom looked into those understanding brown eyes across the booth from him and again found himself considering telling her.

  All of it. From his early ruthless ambition that had him attaching himself to a high-end crook like Thatcher, through his disgrace and imprisonment, on to the other jobs he’d lost because of Thatcher’s intervention—and what losing those jobs had cost him. Then she would understand the stakes when he said he’d learned that Thatcher was now setting himself up in the hospitality business.

  But no. It wasn’t her problem. On a need-to-know basis, she didn’t.

  Maybe someday, if things progressed between them in the way he couldn’t help but hope they might. Maybe then.

  Right now, though, they had a long day ahead of them. They needed to focus on that.

  Her coffee came and she ordered eggs. When the waitress left them, she asked, “So how did the dinner go last night?”

  “It was fine. We went to this steakhouse Robby likes in Osaka. Ned did most of the talking, which was good. I got to know him a little. I have high hopes he’ll work out better than the last guy.”

  They discussed the schedule for the day: a tour of the site, another meeting with Robby and the accountant. Helen would be arriving around noon. He needed a private meeting with her.

  “We’ll leave the afternoon open,” he said. “See how the day shapes up. And then dinner.”

  “I really am looking forward to that.” She sipped her coffee. “I mean, it’s all fascinating, being here in Japan, learning how things work on a big construction site. But dinner with the CEO and the Chairman of the Board. What’s not to like about that?”

  The tour of the site just made Tom more aware of all that wasn’t getting done.

  Helen arrived at the office trailers at eleven-thirty. Mori, she said, was held up in Tokyo, but he would join them in the evening. Tom introduced her to Shelly.

  Akiko went out and got deli sandwiches for everyone. Tom and Helen took theirs to one of the other trailers, where they could speak privately.

  He filled her in on the details of the problems in San Francisco first. “So I gave Riki the space to turn things around,” he concluded. “But in the meantime, I think we should be looking for someone to pick up the pieces and pull it together if he doesn’t get it under control.”

  Helen nodded. “I’ll put the word out. How about the issues here?”

  “Again, I think we have to give Robby and Ned a chance. Things have been pretty much on schedule here until the past month. They assure me they can catch up.”

  Helen agreed. It wasn’t time to pull the plug on anyone. Yet.

  “And there’s something else…” Thatcher. He hardly knew how to begin on that one.

  Helen sipped the tea she’d ordered with her sandwich. “The look on your face is not reassuring.”

  “Bear with me here.”

  “Of course.”

  “Two years ago, when I told you I’d been convicted of insider trading…”

  “Yes?”

  “I didn’t go into the details. It didn’t seem necessary then. But my immediate supervisor at the time I was fired was a man named Drake Thatcher. I was a greedy kid, in a hurry to make it big, willing to do whatever I had to to get ahead. Thatcher took my ambition and used it for his own purposes. He passed me the tips that got me six months in prison, and told me who to give them to. I got caught. He didn’t.”

  Helen’s smile was rueful. “I have excellent investigators, Tom. They reported that Drake Thatcher had been your boss on Wall Street. I had them look into his background a little. As I remember, he’s from an important family. But some of his dealings haven’t been exactly aboveboard…”

  “…And you’re wondering why I decided to lay all this on you now?”

  She shrugged. “I’m sure you’re getting to it.”

  “I just want you to know that I’ve had other run-ins with Thatcher. I never ended up in jail again, so that’s something, I guess. But because of him and his interference, I’ve lost more than one job.”

  Much worse than the jobs, he’d lost two parents, a couple of serious relationships. And perhaps worst of all, one innocent unborn child. None of which he intended to mention to his CEO. He admired and respected Helen. He even considered her a friend. But this was business. Here, his personal losses didn’t apply, even as deep as they cut him, which was clear to the bone.

  Tom continued, “You could say I’m unreasonably suspicious of Drake, and you might be right. So what I’m telling you should be taken with a grain of salt. Or two. Anything I say about Drake Thatcher is going to be colored by the fact that I despise the man. Still, I thought you should know this. A heads-up never hurts.”

  “I understand. What’s going on?”

  He told her what Chip Fast had told him.

  When he finished, she asked, “You’ve double-checked this story?”

  “I have. Drake Thatcher’s in the hotel business, all right. And given what I know about the man, I would bet my last year’s production bonus that we’re in for trouble.”

  In her hotel room at seven-fifteen that evening, Shelly dabbed on a little perfume and stood back to give herself a final look in the mirror. She smoothed her hair and turned to glance over her shoulder a
t the view from the rear.

  Was she nervous? Well, a little. And excited, too. A night out in Kyoto, with Tom. She kept reminding herself that it was a business dinner. Still, somehow, it felt like a date.

  Most of the day she’d kept her mind firmly on doing her job, which meant she didn’t allow herself to get lost in daydreams of the amazing, sexy, intriguing man who happened to be her boss. By keeping things strictly business, even in her thoughts, she’d managed not to dwell on those few moments in the hallway last night, managed not to fade off into self-indulgent fantasies—of the feel of his lips brushing hers, of the promise in his blue eyes, of the real tenderness in his voice when he pressed her to admit that not all office romances end in disaster.

  But now it was evening, with their almost-date ahead of her, now she was checking herself out in the mirror, wanting to be sure she looked her best for him…

  Now, she let the sensual thoughts flood over her. They stirred her blood, made her feel hot and yearning beneath her skin. She’d known him for two weeks and already she couldn’t imagine not knowing him.

  As if, in some strange way, he’d always been there, in her life. Just waiting for her to find him.

  Her sleeveless dress was one of those traveler knits that didn’t wrinkle. Still, she smoothed the front of it and lifted a hand to her hair. As each day went by, she was having more and more trouble remembering how important it was to keep things strictly professional with Tom.

  She found herself wondering, why couldn’t it work out between them? Why did she necessarily have to jump ahead to the prospect of heartbreak? Why not take a chance?

  Because I can’t afford to lose this job, that’s why.

  Then again, wouldn’t there always be some reason or other to say no to passion, to love, to the hope of a lifetime with a good man at her side?

  There was a tap on the door. Tom. Her heart beat a happy tattoo under her breastbone. Sheesh. She was grinning like a fool, just at the sound of his knock. Grabbing her satin clutch from the bathroom counter, she went to answer.

  Something happened, there at the door. Maybe it was the welcoming, eager smile she gave him. Maybe it was her desire for him shining in her eyes.

  Whatever.

  He must have seen her willingness. He took a step forward, into the room. She moved back. The door swung shut, closing them in together.

  And Shelly decided. Just like that, as the latch clicked with a small, but final, sound.

  She was through running away from this—from Tom, from all the rich and sweet possibilities she sensed might be theirs, from the promise she saw in his eyes. She was taking a chance on him…on them.

  Starting right now.

  “You look good,” he said.

  “Thank you.” Slowly, with purpose, she laid her hand against his warm, hard chest. She felt…liberated. Freed at last from the strict constraints of her role as his assistant.

  She wanted more from him. So very much more.

  His gaze locked on her trembling mouth. “You smell good, too.” He reached for her. She melted closer. “Better than good…” He lowered his mouth to hers.

  She dropped her clutch to the carpet and kissed him back. Heaven was in that kiss. It felt so fine, his warm, hard body touching hers, his strong arms around her. She lifted her other hand and rested it, too, on the expensive silk of his jacket. His chest was broad and strong, just right for a woman to lean on. She sighed as he deepened the kiss. She dared to grasp his big shoulders, to pull him even closer.

  Closer.

  Yes.

  Closer…

  Eventually, he lifted his head and gazed down at her. “Well.”

  “Well, what?” She straightened his power tie.

  “What a great way to start an evening.”

  “Let me make myself perfectly clear,” she whispered.

  “By all means,” he replied.

  “It’s like this….” And she went on tiptoe to capture those lips of his all over again.

  Oh, yes! Kissing him was everything kissing a man ought to be. She loved the way his mouth fitted hers, the tempting pressure as he urged her to greater intimacy. A secret sigh escaped her as she opened for him, as she welcomed the sweet invasion of his tongue.

  Oh, yes. There was no other word for it. Yes…

  After an endless time that was over much too soon, he raised his head again. “I could stand here forever, with you in my arms.”

  She made a low, rueful sound. “But Helen and her husband wouldn’t understand.”

  His mouth was softer, redder, from kissing her. “Later,” he promised. “All night.”

  She said the only word that mattered. “Yes.”

  Shelly thought Mori Taka was every bit as intense and attractive as Verna had claimed he would be. And Helen, who wore sleek red silk, seemed even more stunningly beautiful by candlelight than she had in her designer business clothes that afternoon. She and Mori were clearly very much in love. Though Mori had about him an air of quiet reserve, in keeping with his culture, the way he looked at Helen left no doubt that there was only one woman in the world for him.

  At the construction site that afternoon, Helen had been kind and welcoming to Shelly, asking her how she was settling in at TAKA-Hanson. Now, she was curious about Shelly, the person.

  Shelly told her about Max, and then about her mom and dad. “Married since time began. Still going strong…”

  “Family.” Mori gave a regal nod. “Nothing matters more.”

  Helen spoke freely of her own grown stepchildren. Jack, Andrew and Evan, George Hanson’s sons, worked in the media and technology arms of the company stateside. All three were happily married.

  Shelly slid Tom a glance when Helen mentioned Jack. She could see in his eyes that he remembered last night, when he’d used Jack and his wife, Samantha, as examples of office romances with happy endings.

  “I also have a daughter, Jenny,” said Helen. “She’s married, too. Her husband, Richard Warren, is my long-time attorney.”

  Mori laid his lean, dark hand over his wife’s alabaster one. “Only Kimiko remains single. She is, as you Americans would say, a handful.”

  Helen sent him a gently chiding look. “Kimi is a true original.”

  “Perhaps too original,” said Mori in a dry tone. “I often think I should have arranged a marriage for her long ago, found her a strong-minded husband to take her in hand.”

  Helen laughed. “As if you would ever do such a thing to Kimi—not to mention the fact that she’d never stand for it.” She sent her husband a fond look before explaining to Shelly, “Kimi’s twenty-one, in summer school at the University of Pennsylvania now. Though she was born and raised mostly here in Japan, she’s always loved all things American. I can’t help but think of her as my own. But her mom was Mori’s first wife.”

  The talk shifted from family to business. They briefly discussed future hotel sites. And Mori mentioned some of the new developments in the technology arm of the company.

  Too soon, it was time for dessert. Shelly had ichigo daifuku, a round cake, iced and filled with a sweet red bean paste called anko. In the heart of the cake, wrapped in anko, was a plump red strawberry.

  It was almost eleven when they got up to leave the restaurant. Helen said how pleased she was to have had a little time to get to know Shelly. “Tom…” She tipped her blond head to the side. “A moment?” She and Tom took the lead.

  Shelly walked out with Mori, and got a little more practice on her rudimentary Japanese. She told him how much she’d appreciated the evening and he replied graciously that he’d enjoyed meeting her.

  The way Tom glanced back at Shelly as he and Helen led the way through the glass doors, she had a feeling the CEO had just said something about her. A pair of limousines waited at the curb, one for Helen and Mori, a second for Shelly and Tom.

  Inside the second limo, as the car wove through nighttime traffic, Tom confirmed Shelly’s suspicions about what Helen had told him. “Helen says
you’re a winner.” He reached across the seat and ran the back of his finger along her bare arm. The touch was electric. It stole her breath. “She says if I’ve got half the sense I need to be her CFO, I’ll never let you get away.”

  Shelly warmed at such praise. She teased, “Did you tell her I was going somewhere?”

  “Hell, no. I told her not to worry. I fully realize what an amazing woman you are and I plan to keep you good and close—and I don’t just mean professionally.”

  His words thrilled her. “I’m glad,” she told him softly, her gaze on the road ahead.

  “Me, too.”

  She rested her hand on the seat between them. As she’d hoped he might, he laid his over it. Incredible, how just the feel of his hand on hers sent all her nerves singing a bold, happy song.

  After a moment or two, she turned her hand over, palm up, so they could twine their fingers together.

  “This could be interesting,” she said as the lights of Kyoto glittered ahead of them and flew past on either side.

  “Better than interesting.” His tone was gruff.

  She turned her head and sought his gaze through the shadows of the dark car. “You think so?”

  He caught her glance and held it. “I know so.”

  Chapter Six

  In the bedroom of Tom’s suite, the blankets were already drawn back on the wide bed. The sheets had a blue-white luster in the darkness.

  Shelly’s heart beat hard and deep as he turned a lamp on low. In its golden glow, the white sheets warmed to the color of cream.

  It all seemed…unreal, suddenly. Magical. A dream come true. And scary, too.

  Was she really about to take this huge step with him? She knew all the reasons she shouldn’t be doing this, yet here she was anyway.

  Was she making a terrible, irrevocable mistake?

  “Hey.” He touched her shoulders, his hands so warm and firm. Strong. He seemed to her the kind of man she could lean on, the kind of man she could trust. Oh, God. She prayed that she was right. “Hey…”

  She made herself tip her chin high and meet those eyes that had entranced her from that first moment they’d met, when Verna had pushed open the door to his office and she had stepped inside.