The Boss's Forbidden Secretary

His voice a little husky, he said, ‘You can’t possibly not know. I want to hold you, to kiss you, to feel your naked body against mine. I want to take you to bed and make love to you until we’re both up there with the stars, then I want to sleep with you in my arms.’

All her life she’d been cautious, inhibited, and after her disastrous relationship with Neil she’d felt frozen through and through, certain she’d never feel the warmth of true love, the pleasure of being held in caring arms.

Now, however, her inhibitions gone—driven away by the unaccustomed whisky, perhaps?—she longed to reach out and take the happiness that this man seemed to be offering.

But suppose she was frigid, as Neil had charged?

Ross had been watching her face, the changing expressions, and now, with a slight sigh, he released her arms and stepped back.

His voice level, he told her, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take the couch…’

He was turning to walk away when she whispered, ‘Don’t go. Please, don’t go.’

‘I think I’d better.’ Wryly he added, ‘It might prove too much of a temptation if I slept on one of the bunks.’

‘But I don’t want you to sleep in the other room.’

‘Are you sure? A moment ago you looked seriously worried at the thought of me sharing your bed.’

‘No, no… It wasn’t that,’ she said. ‘But I…I don’t usually behave like this.’

‘I never thought you did. But, as I said, it’s early days yet, so if you’re not happy…’

‘I am happy,’ she assured him. ‘Please stay.’

With a little inarticulate murmur he rested his forehead against hers, melting her heart with the tenderness of the gesture, and bringing unexpected tears to her eyes.

As he lifted his head, twin teardrops escaped and trickled down her cheeks.

He kissed them away softly, before touching his lips to hers.

She was still trembling from the delight of that kiss when he drew her close and kissed her again.

Contact with his firm, muscular body turned her very bones to jelly, and she melted against him, her lips parting helplessly beneath the light, yet masterful pressure of his.

With a little murmur of satisfaction he deepened the kiss while he unfastened her robe and slipped it off her shoulders, letting it puddle at her feet.

As he kissed her, his hands moved over her seductively, tracing her slender hips and buttocks through the thin satin of her nightdress before moving up again to the soft curve of her breasts.

Feeling her body’s instinctive response, he cupped the weight of one breast in the palm of his hand and rubbed his thumb over the firming nipple.

He heard her soft gasp, and, slipping the satin straps from her shoulders, he sent the nightdress to join the robe at their feet. Then, taking one pink, velvety nipple in his mouth, he teased its fellow between his finger and thumb.

For a while, with a skill and delicacy that Neil had totally lacked, he pleasured her, before pulling back the covers and lifting her onto the bed.

He was standing looking down at her, admiring her flawless skin, the firm, beautifully shaped breasts, the enticing flare of her hips, and the long, slender legs, when she opened dazed eyes.

Smiling down at her, he discarded the towelling robe, switched off the bedside lamp, and, stretching out beside her, with hands and mouth he explored her body, finding every erogenous zone and producing the most exquisite sensations, the kind of singing pleasure she had never known before.

He whispered softly how beautiful she was, how desirable, how much her body delighted him, while he brought her to a fever pitch of wanting.

Just for an instant when he moved over her she felt a touch of panic. Suppose she couldn’t respond? Suppose he was disappointed?

But as though sensing her fear, he kissed her gently, reassuringly, and the panic died.

Then in the flickering firelight, while the blizzard beat at the window panes with frozen fingers, he made love to her, tenderly, passionately, so that she was caught up and carried along by the wonder of it.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined love could be like this, and after a climax of such intensity that she thought she might die, she slowly drifted back to earth to lie in a blissful haze.

After a while, her breathing and heart-rate returned to something approaching normal, and she became aware that his fair head was pillowed on her breast.

She lay quietly, savouring the pleasure of it, until he stirred and lifted himself away.

At this point Neil had invariably turned his back, leaving her cold and unsatisfied, with a leaden feeling of depression, of failure, as though the fault was hers.

And though this time she was warm and satisfied, the remembrance of that failure was descending like a fog when Ross leaned over her and, taking his weight on his elbows, kissed her mouth deeply, tenderly.

Then, his lips wandering over her face and throat, punctuating the words with soft, baby kisses, he told her how infinitely desirable she was, how warm and responsive, and how much he had enjoyed making love to her.

His words and his kisses dispersed the miasma as sunlight dispersed mist, and, her heart light, her spirits rising, for the first time in her adult life she felt happy, fulfilled, like a real woman.

He turned on his back, and, as though he didn’t want to lose contact, he gathered her to him and, his body half supporting hers, settled her head on the comfortable juncture between chest and shoulder.

She lay contentedly, enjoying the strong beat of his heart beneath her cheek, the feel of his skin against hers, the clean male smell of him and the scent of his aftershave.

Never in her wildest imaginings could she have visualized all her dreams coming true like this. To have an unspoken longing, a tenuous hope, a hidden desire become wonderful reality so fast seemed almost unbelievable.

He was everything she had ever wanted in a man, and she thanked fate for the snowfall that had brought him into her life.

Though she wanted to stay awake for a while to savour the magic of it all, in the blink of an eye she was asleep—deeply, dreamlessly.

Some time during the night Ross awakened her with a kiss and a soft caress, and they made love again.

For Cathy it was a rocket trip to the stars, and when it was over she lay in his arms, blissfully happy, and once more thanked fate for bringing him into her life.

Her last thought before sleep claimed her once more was that now their instant and mutual attraction had become so serious so quickly, over breakfast she must explain about Carl and the deception she’d agreed to.

She could always ask him to keep it to himself until Carl had managed to prove his worth and was able to tell his employers the truth…

In the early hours of the morning she started to dream. She was lying contentedly in bed in the arms of her lover, while they made wonderful plans for their future together.

Then in her dream she heard the urgent shrill of a phone, and, summoned away, her lover left her side.

Cold and bereft, she wept soundlessly, heartbroken, until he returned and she felt the brush of his lips as he kissed her softly.

But it was a goodbye kiss.

She put her arms around his neck and tried to keep him, to make him stay, but as though she was embracing a wraith he slipped from her grasp and walked away, and in the way that dreamers do she knew he was gone for ever.