Australia: In Bed with the Boss: The Marriage Decider / Their Wedding Day / His Boardroom Mistress

“There’s no question of your losing it,” he assured her.

“I want to feel comfortable in it. I need to feel secure in it,” she explained further. “It’s my anchor right now. If you take that away from me…”

“Why on earth would I?”

He sounded genuinely puzzled.

“You could make it too difficult for me to stay.”

“You think I’m going to chase you around the office?” he asked, the dry irony in his voice mocking such a notion. “It’s a fool’s game, mixing business with pleasure, Amy. Have I ever seemed that much of a fool to you?”

“No.”

“I respect you far too much to press unwanted attention on you anyway.”

“I’m sorry. I…maybe I’ve got this wrong,” she rushed out in an agony of embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have assumed you’d want to…”

“Oh, yes, I want to, Amy. I really would be a fool not to want to make love with you whenever I can. Outside of office hours.”

He spoke matter-of-factly yet Amy was left in no doubt he meant every word of it. One taste was not enough for him. He wanted more, and just the thought of him wanting more aroused all the sensitised places in her body that craved the same.

“But I’d hate you to feel…under duress,” he added, his voice dropping to a low rasp of distaste.

The choice was hers, he was saying, and she should have felt relieved, except she was so twisted up inside, her mind couldn’t dictate anything sensible.

“It has to be freely given,” he went on. “As it was tonight.” He half turned to her, a lopsided smile curving his mouth. “You did want me, you know. Not because of Steve. You wanted me.”

Amy was further shaken by the passion creeping through the quiet control he’d maintained. “Any woman would want you, Jake,” she blurted out.

“You’re not…any…woman.” He flashed her a scathing look. “For God’s sake, Amy! Do you think it’s like that every time I turn around?”

“How would I know?” she flared back at him, losing the sane control she’d tried so hard to hold on to. “You turn around so often…”

“Because once I know it’s not going to work I don’t string a woman along as a convenient backup while I cheat on the side, as your precious Steve did,” he shot at her.

Pain exploded through her. “Fine!” she fired back at him. “Just don’t expect me to give repeat performances until you decide it’s not working for you anymore. I’d rather choose my own exit, thank you very much.”

He straightened up, aggression emanating from him in such strong waves, Amy almost cringed against the railing. Pride stiffened her spine. She was not going to be intimidated. The memory of her mother being cowed by her father flashed into her mind. Jake had that kind of power but she would not give in to it. Never! She would stand up for what was right for her, no matter what the consequences.

Maybe he sensed her fierce challenge. Something wrought a change. The aggression faded. She felt him—the strength of his will—reaching out to her even before he raised a hand in a gesture of appeal.

“It could be something special for both of us, Amy,” he said in soft persuasion.

The fire in her died, leaving only the pain. “It was special. Please…leave it there,” she begged. “I don’t want to fight with you, Jake.”

He sighed and offered a wry smile. “I don’t want to fight with you, either. Nor do I want you to regret tonight.”

She had a hazy memory of Steve yelling, you’ll regret it, and everything within her rebelled against his meanminded prediction. Besides, he had never once given her so much intense pleasure, never once swept her into such an all-encompassing sensual world. That belonged to Jake and she would never forget it…surely a oncein-a-lifetime experience which had exploded from a unique set of circumstances.

“I’ll never regret it, Jake. It was something very special,” she reiterated, because it was the truth and it was only fair to admit it to him.

His smiled widened, caressing her with his remembered pleasure. “Then you’ll keep it as a good memory?”

He was giving in…letting go…

“Yes,” she cried in dizzy relief.

“Of course, if you ever want to build on the good memory, you will keep me in mind,” he pressed teasingly.

She laughed, the release of tension erupting through her so suddenly she couldn’t help but laugh. It was the old Jake back again, the one she was used to handling, and she loved him for giving him back to her.

“I couldn’t possibly consider anyone else,” she promised him.

“I can rest content with that,” he said, sealing the sense of security she’d asked him for. “And just remember, Amy, you’re not alone. You do have me to count on.”

Unaccountably after the laughter, tears swam into her eyes. “Thank you, Jake,” she managed huskily, overcome with a mixture of sweet feelings that were impossible to define.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, then stepped over, squeezed her shoulder in a comradely fashion, gently pushed her hair aside and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Goodnight, Amy. Don’t you fret now. It’s back to work on Monday.”

She was swallowing too hard to say anything. He touched her cheek tenderly in a last salute, and she could only watch dumbly as he walked away from her. All the way to the door she felt the tug of him. Her body churned with need, screaming at her to call him back, take him into her bed, have him as long as she could. But she stayed still, breathlessly still, and listened to the door closing behind him.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

It had been good.

Best that it stayed good.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#ulink_5853fa90-8362-59cb-b3ff-961feac5b6bd)

DESPITE Jake’s assurances, Amy’s nerves were strung tight as she walked down Alfred Street on Monday morning. Resolutions kept pumping through her mind. She was not going to look at Jake and see him naked. She had to focus every bit of her concentration on the job. And act naturally.

Acting naturally was very important. No overt tension, no signs of agitation, no silly slips of the tongue. Think before you speak, Amy recited over and over again. Pretend it’s last week. Pretend it’s next week. No matter what she felt in the hours ahead of her, it would pass.

Determined not to falter, Amy pushed past the entrance doors to their office building and strode down the foyer to the elevators. “Hi, Kate!” she called to the receptionist, and practised a bright smile.

“Well, that’s a happier start to the week,” Kate remarked, smiling back. “No Monday blues. Things must have picked up for you.”

Had it only been a week since Steve dumped her? Amy felt as though she’d shifted a long way since then. And she had. All the way to Balmoral. Which was absolutely lovely.

“Feeling good,” she declared, pressing the Up button with blithe panache. Positive thinking had to help. “Boss in?”

“Up and running.”

“How did your weekend go?” Amy asked, wondering if she could make a friend of Kate.

“I Christmas shopped till I dropped,” she replied with a mock groan.

Christmas! Barely three weeks away. And she had no one to share it with this year. No one to buy presents for. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t celebrate it herself, buy a Christmas tree for the apartment and think of different things to do. She was not going to feel depressed. She had her composure in place and she simply couldn’t afford to let anything crack it.