Temporary Boss, Permanent Mistress

‘Did you manage to move your meetings?’

She nodded. ‘No problem.’

‘And you’ve spoken to Matt?’

‘Via his wife, yes. He says it’s OK for me to take next week off because he’ll be back then.’

‘Good. I’ll see you at the airport at half-past nine tomorrow.’

‘Nine-thirty it is.’

She was in brisk, professional lawyer mode. Efficient and quiet. Though he had a feeling that she was wearing a mask as smooth as his own. What would make her light up from the inside? he wondered.

Realising where his thoughts were going, he shook himself mentally. No. He didn’t get involved nowadays. The one constant in his life was work, and he had no intentions of messing that up by having an affair with someone in the office

Besides, Lydia Sheridan wasn’t the type who’d have a temporary fling, and that was all he could offer. Jakob Andersen, heir to a shipping dynasty and CEO of Andersen Marine, couldn’t offer a woman a future. Couldn’t offer her anything other than wealth.

And that wasn’t nearly enough.

CHAPTER TWO

WHEN Lydia walked into the departure lounge at twenty-five past nine, the next morning, Jake was already there, sitting on a chair with his right ankle resting on his left knee to make a temporary desk and a sheaf of papers cradled on his lap. There was a pen in his right hand and a mobile phone in his left, and he looked completely in command of the situation.

No wonder he was drawing admiring glances from every single female in the vicinity. That aura of confidence was incredibly sexy.

Add the fact that he had the most beautiful mouth, and…

Lydia shook herself, horrified to find herself actually fantasising about walking up to Jake and kissing him stupid. Apart from the fact that he was her boss, and therefore off limits, she’d steered clear of serious relationships since she was twenty.

Ever since she’d dated the unsuitable artist she’d overheard her father buying off.

Her disillusionment had been total. Before that fateful afternoon, she’d seriously considered dropping out of university and following her heart, despite the fact that she’d known she’d be disappointing her parents. Because it would have meant being with the man she loved and making a living out of doing what she really wanted to do. It hadn’t mattered that she and Robbie would have been practically penniless; she’d known they’d work it out, somehow, because they were a team. She’d been so sure that Robbie had loved her just as much as she had loved him.

Until she’d overheard that conversation.

And realised that Robbie hadn’t hesitated even for a second before taking her father’s cheque.

He’d broken up with her later that evening—just as he’d promised her father he would. He’d looked her straight in the eye and told her he was sorry, but he’d fallen in love with someone else—and she knew damn well he hadn’t.

It had been a something, not a someone.

Money.

She dragged in a breath. That was then. This was now. But she hadn’t quite let herself trust anyone since. For the year and a half after Robbie, she’d taken refuge in her studies, working hard to make sure she graduated with first-class honours and had people falling over themselves to offer her a training contract. Sure, she’d dated a few men since she left university—if she hadn’t, she knew that her best friend, Emma, would have insisted on matchmaking—but she’d always kept things casual, never accepting more than half a dozen dates before saying gently that she thought they’d be better off as friends.

When was the last time she’d felt a pull of attraction like this? An urge to cup someone’s face between her hands and lower her mouth to his and kiss him until they were both breathless, regardless of the fact that they were in a public place?

She couldn’t remember.

But what she did know was that Jakob Anderson was definitely Mr Wrong. He was her boss. So there couldn’t be a future in this.

As for the fact that she was planning huge changes in her life, changes that meant he wouldn’t be her boss for much longer…Well, those changes also meant she wouldn’t have time for anything else in her life. So it was pointless starting anything.

She lifted her chin, pinned a smile to her face that she didn’t quite feel, and went over to sit beside him.

He acknowledged her with a nod and a brief waggle of his fingers, wrapped up his call, and turned to her. ‘Good morning, Lydia.’

‘Good morning.’

He glanced at his watch. ‘Thanks for being punctual.’ He smiled at her and she was suddenly glad she was sitting down as her knees actually went weak.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He scrutinised her boots. ‘Are they waterproof?’

‘They’re leather.’

‘And they’ll be ruined within a day.’ He flapped a dismissive hand. ‘Never mind, we’ll get you something at the airport when we land. At least your coat is suitable.’

‘And it’s definitely windproof.’

He tipped his head slightly to one side. ‘And you know that, how?’

‘My best friend nagged me into doing a sponsored walk coast to coast with her. Let’s just say the north of England can be a bit windy. And wet.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure that you really need a lawyer with you? You seem to be quite good at grilling people.’

He laughed. ‘Force of habit. I apologise. Do you want a coffee?’

‘Do I have time to get one before our flight?’

He surprised her by scooping up his papers and putting them in his briefcase. ‘Stay put and I’ll get them—what do you want?’

‘Latte, if they have it, please. Otherwise, just ordinary coffee with milk, no sugar. But, hang on, shouldn’t I be getting these?’

Jake stood up. ‘Why?’

‘Because you’re the head of the company, and technically I’m your junior.’

‘You’re my colleague,’ he corrected, ‘so we’ll take it in turns to fetch coffee.’ His tone brooked no argument. ‘Do you want anything to eat?’

‘Thanks for the offer, but no. I’m fine.’

She watched him walk away, his movements easy and graceful and incredibly sexy, and her fingers itched to sketch him.

To touch him.

Down, girl, she warned her libido silently. Wrong time, wrong place, wrong man.

He returned with coffee and gingerbread. ‘It was fresh out of the oven. I’m prepared to share, but I won’t argue if you refuse.’