Her Boss's Baby

Things were definitely more serious than Tara had suspected when she had packed up and headed to Texas. She had been under the impression that this was all some sort of gigantic mistake that could easily be cleared up with a little time, logic and detective work.

“But what reason could you possibly have for wanting to kill your uncle?” she demanded to know as if already playing out the courtroom scene in her head.

“Besides the possibility of inheriting millions?” Jonas supplied with a twisted self-deprecating grin. “According to Sheriff Grayhawk, revenge is always a viable incentive. He’s well aware that I’ve never held my real father in much esteem. He seems to think that animosity could carry over to his brother, my uncle Ryan. As much as I hate to admit it, any qualified psychiatrist could have a field day analyzing my motives.”

Tara’s head was swimming. She was glad she wasn’t drinking anything stronger than ginger ale. A person needed all her faculties to piece this hodgepodge together. She eyed Jonas’s drink suspiciously. “You don’t think anyone would tamper with our drinks, do you?”

“I’ve considered the possibility. Though I wouldn’t put it past anyone in Red Rock to try and do me in while I’m holed up here, I think we’re safe as long as we check to make sure the containers are properly sealed.”

The mere suggestion that Jonas might not get out of town alive sent a shiver up Tara’s spine.

“I’d certainly understand if you didn’t feel like sticking around,” Jonas said, reading the goose bumps on her arms.

“Just try to get rid of me,” she quipped with false brightness.

Nothing short of dynamite was going to blast her away from this man’s side in his time of need. If anything happened to Jonas, she didn’t know how she could continue getting up in the mornings. Whether he knew it or not, he was the center of her universe. Rather than dwelling on any pessimistic possibilities, Tara decided to approach this particular predicament as she did every other problem in her life—one methodical step at a time.

Setting her drink down, she signaled that break time was over. She was ready to get back to work.

“As soon as the computer arrives, we’ll get online and catch up on correspondence and paperwork. Then we’ll set about figuring out who the real criminal in your loving family is and decide how best to go about clearing your name.”

The tired smile Jonas gave her was tinged with bitterness. “Goodfellow may be a bastard’s name passed down illegitimately, but after all that’s happened, I have to admit that I prefer it to the one that’s brought me nothing but mis-Fortune since I set foot in Texas.”

Three

Just watching Tara Summers at work was enough to make most people tired. Jonas likened it to studying the mighty ant in action. Seemingly there was no task too big for her to tackle. So when his assistant calmly announced that she had plans to catch the real criminal and clear his name, Jonas was tempted to call the local law-enforcement agencies and put them on alert.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, foolishly hoping the gesture alone would somehow be enough to stop her. “Listen, Tara, I don’t want you doing anything stupid on my behalf. I’d never forgive myself if anything were to happen to you. As flawed as the system may be, let’s put our trust in it and allow the police to do their job. The last thing I need or want is for you to go risking your pretty little neck for me.”

Tara felt a tingle on her shoulder where his hand rested. The touch seared her, burning through layers of clothing. Though the use of the word pretty was flattering, the statement made her feel like a silly schoolgirl.

“What do I have to do to get you to stop bossing me around like I’m some helpless child?” she asked in exasperation.

Jonas’s eyes darkened in response. He’d been having a heck of a time seeing her as an ingenue for quite some time. That Tara insisted he abandon his only shield against her was as unnerving as the way his body reacted whenever she was near.

“I never meant to imply that you’re childish,” he replied in a steady tone.

Far from it! he thought. If only you knew how hard it’s been for me to refrain from acting on the way I see you.

“It’s just that I worry about you, and I don’t like feeling that you think I’m incapable of taking care of my own problems.”

Since that put matters into a completely different light, one that cast Jonas as a man needing to see himself as strong and capable, Tara held her tongue. Being wise beyond her years, she saw no reason to antagonize him further. Besides, she’d do exactly what she wanted to do, anyway.

Within hours, boxes started arriving. In no time at all they had the makings of a temporary office. Soon the main computer was up and running, paperwork was sorted into piles according to priority, and the temp Tara had hired to run the San Francisco office reported that everything there was going relatively smoothly. Feeling underfoot, Jonas lamented that he was going to have to cancel the upcoming buying trip overseas to which he had been so looking forward.

While much of his business was conducted over the Internet, he still enjoyed periodic forays into dangerous territories. Exposure to infectious diseases and sometimes hostile gunfire were part of the allure. His adventurous lifestyle had served him well during the time he’d been forced to wait in jail for Tara’s arrival. As much as he despised his questionable companions, Jonas found them far less formidable than the chieftain of a tribe of headhunters with whom he’d once shared a meal. Of course, the chieftain had been far more honorable than the scumbags who had inhabited the cells next to his.

Tara knew full well that Jonas found the merchandising end of the business rather dull, and she was secretly relieved that he’d been forced to cool his heels for a while. It hadn’t escaped her notice that every time she came remotely close to revealing her true feelings to him, he packed up and went abroad. Unable to bring herself to believe it was merely coincidence, she was determined to use this opportunity to force the issue of whether he felt anything more for her than employer-employee respect.

That Jonas did indeed find her incredibly beguiling was not necessarily due to any untoward behavior on her part. He could no more find fault with her decorum than he could her clothes. What she was wearing at the moment was certainly professional. He couldn’t exactly blame her for his being so fascinated by the way her skirt hugged her hips and exposed a pair of long silky legs or for the way he covertly studied the swell of her breasts beneath the satiny fabric of her shirt.

It wasn’t as if she had deliberately changed the quality or brand of the perfume she wore. Still, her subtle fragrance played havoc with his senses. Every time she came near, it evoked haunting sensual images that could well have landed him in court for sexual harassment had he actually acted on them. Determined that hard work was all he needed to clear his mind and keep him focused, he refused to take a break for the rest of the day.

As evening settled over the sleepy little community like a lacy shawl, Jonas pushed himself away from the computer screen and grumbled that though he was starving, he had no desire to leave the hotel and endure the whispers of “polite society.” Happy to accommodate him, Tara reached around him to shut off the computer and call it a day herself. Jonas was enveloped by the flowery scent of her shampoo as her hair brushed his face. The almost imperceptible touch of her hair against his skin produced an incredibly potent flame in the center of his being.

Tara called room service and ordered a bottle of wine and dinner for two. Personally the romantic aspect of it delighted her. The candles, the wine, the fresh flowers all carted in by a young man dressed pristinely in white seemed divinely inspired to help set just the right mood for elegant seduction.

Unfortunately Jonas seemed impervious to the flickering charm of the moment. The food was delicious, and Tara gave little sighs of pleasure with each bite she took. When she asked him to pass her the salt, his hand inadvertently brushed hers, sending shivers all the length of her body.

“Here’s to the most wonderful assistant in the world,” Jonas said, raising his glass and clinking it gently against hers.

Taking a modest sip, Tara blushed. As potent as the wine, the compliment warmed her from the inside out.

“I’m glad you know how lucky you are to have me,” she replied, batting her eyes exaggeratedly. Since flirting had never been her forte, Tara decided to rely on humor to carry her through any awkward pauses in the conversation.

“I do indeed,” Jonas assured her.

Over the years he had come to rely on Tara’s strength, common sense and wonderful sense of humor in more than just business matters. She had become his confidante, gently encouraging him to attend the Fortune reunion, then rushing to bail him out of jail without the least hesitation.

With every sip of wine his lovely assistant took, he could see her visibly relax. Remembering the drinking that had so long ago landed her in the slammer with his precocious stepsister, he was sorely tempted to remind her to slow down. Still, she looked so pretty sitting there, all flushed and content, that he hated sounding like her father. She was old enough to have a drink if she wanted one. Thinking how that pink suit complemented her fair coloring, he found himself enjoying the company of such a stunning woman.

The sound of her laughter brushed his dark thoughts away. Deciding it the sexiest sound he’d ever heard, Jonas came to realize more fully just how difficult this forced cohabitation was going to be. It had been hard enough back at the office chasing off thoughts of Tara as anything more than his kid sister’s best friend. Here, it would take the fortitude of a saint to ignore that voluptuous body and those mystical dark eyes. How could fate conspire to package innocence and sensuality in such a seductive pink bundle of pure femininity?

Refilling her glass, Jonas told himself that she was safe with him. It wasn’t as if she was driving anywhere tonight, thus endangering herself or others. The worst that could happen was that he might have to tuck her into bed. His own drink poised midway in its path from the table to his lips, the thought caught him unawares. By the way his body reacted, he had to pause to wonder who was going to protect her from him.

Ashamed of the direction his thoughts had taken, Jonas sternly reminded himself of all he owed this woman. Certainly more than the kind of one-night sexual gratification that had led to his own birth. He had no intention of ever doing that to another human being. Especially not to such a genuinely sweet thing as Tara.

“I think I’ll turn in early,” he said, rising from his chair and trying to rouse a yawn. With his body so attuned to the beautiful woman in the room, Jonas seriously doubted he was going to fall asleep anytime soon. The look of disappointment on her face tempted him to sit right back down again. Prudence, however, kept his knees locked in an upright position.

“Good night,” Tara murmured. The regret in her voice implied she somehow felt responsible for hastening his departure.

Long after he had retired to his bedroom, Tara sat in the dying candlelight pondering the future. It was apparent that Jonas was bound and determined to be a gentleman. And while she respected his chivalry, she also found it downright infuriating. Unassuming by nature, she was clearly uncomfortable in the role of aggressor. Yet she knew that if she waited for him to make the first move, she would be destined to die an old maid like that preposterous-looking caricature in the deck of cards she remembered playing with as a child.

Contemplating the half-empty bottle of wine, she thought about accidentally stumbling into Jonas’s bedroom. She could always blame her misguided sense of direction on the alcohol. As luck would have it, such blatant sexual overtures were not Tara’s style. The truth was, she wasn’t confident enough about her own sexual prowess to risk throwing herself at him.

Although Jonas wasn’t seeing anyone seriously at the moment, she knew he didn’t lead a celibate lifestyle. Over time she had watched, with equal measures of envy and disgust, various women blatantly coming on to her boss. Beautiful self-assured women who knew what they wanted and weren’t afraid to go after it. Experienced women with no fear that they might prove unsatisfactory in bed.

It was agony for Tara to be so close to the man she loved and yet so far. For all intents and purposes they might as well have been separated by thousands of miles as by a single thin wall. Sighing, Tara pushed herself away from the table. On a whim, she snapped a daisy off the fresh spray on the cart and tucked it behind an ear.

“Tomorrow is another day,” she said, melodramatically mimicking one of her favorite fictional characters. Scarlett O’Hara was the kind of woman who would stop at nothing to get her heart’s desire. Certain there was a lesson for herself in the character’s words, Tara headed off to bed determined to put her troubles behind her for the night.

After a sound night’s sleep, she had a pot of coffee brewing and was ready for work by eight the next morning.

Unlike Tara, her boss was decidedly not a morning person. Yawning widely enough to frighten all flies within range, Jonas straggled into the “office” wearing a pair of button-fly jeans and a tight white T-shirt that defined his muscles all too well. His hair was sticking out in all directions. Tara couldn’t decide which impulse was stronger: the one compelling her to run her hands the length of those fabulous biceps or the one urging her to smooth that errant hair. In his disheveled sleepy state, he was enough to make any red-blooded woman’s mouth water. Something about those heavy-lidded eyes made her want to abandon work altogether and tuck herself back into bed with him.

“Coffee?” she asked, reining in her fugitive thoughts and slipping into her professional demeanor.

Jonas mumbled something that she could only assume was yes. Setting a fresh cup before him, she looked at him in concern. “Didn’t you sleep well?”