The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad: The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad

She expected him to refuse, but he surprised her by taking a chocolate cake doughnut and placing it on the plate she offered.

“Thank you.”

“Doughnuts! Now you’re talking.” Rett Sullivan, Rick’s twin and a co-owner of Sullivans’ Jewels, along with their four brothers, walked through the door, snagging a cinnamon roll on the way to his seat next to Rick. “You should have done this years ago.”

“You can thank Ms. Jones,” Rick advised.

“Ms. Jones.” Rett toasted her with his coffee mug. “Not only beautiful but sharp and generous, too. When I see you later, I’ll have to thank you properly.”

“I’m sure she got the message,” Rick stated pointedly in a clear signal for his twin to desist.

In response, Rett winked at Savannah.

As identical twins, the two men obviously shared the same height, same build, same coloring. But Rett carried his weight leaner, meaner, his hair longer. Vice President of Design and Purchasing, Rett spurned what he described as the boring, restrictive suits Rick wore, stating they stifled his creativity. Instead, he chose matching dress pants and shirts in solid colors and rich fabrics. Today he wore a dark chocolate brown. The chain of his St. Christopher medal gleamed gold against his neck.

He was a charming flirt, easy to be with and easy to resist. They’d become friends when she asked him to teach her how to work with precious gems to design a gift for her sister’s college graduation.

Rick’s scowl landed on her again, and she quickly reached for the stack of copies and began putting one set at each seat around the table.

The doughnuts were a big hit as sales managers and associates began to fill the room. There was friendly chatter as everyone helped themselves. When she regained her seat, she slid a sideways glance at Rick. He was watching those in the room as if seeing them for the first time.

She wondered if that was a good thing. He began the meeting promptly at eight-thirty and kept to the agenda, moving smoothly from topic to topic while encouraging input from everyone at the table. He had her taking notes, but she noticed he also jotted down items when someone made a good point.

At the end of the meeting the room quickly emptied out, except for Rick. Savannah began clearing the debris.

“Ms. Jones?” He waited until she glanced up to meet his gaze. “What do you have going on with Rett?”

Savannah groaned internally. Just great. Because of Rett’s playful comments Rick now had the wrong impression about them. She could tell him about the lessons; they weren’t a secret. But she wasn’t entirely sure he’d approve or believe she didn’t have a thing for his brother. So she decided to prevaricate.

Avoiding his gaze, she dumped a load of trash and then picked up the wastebasket and brought it back to the table to finish the cleanup.

“I don’t have anything with him today, but you wanted me to sit in on the meeting for the security upgrade and that’s tomorrow.”

He blinked, and then crossed his arms over his chest. “I meant are you seeing him?”

“I see him every day.” She smiled and blinked, playing confused.

Should she just tell him? After all, it wasn’t the office romance he feared. No, best not open a can of worms. The lessons were important to her and she didn’t want to mess things up.

What if he wanted to see her work as proof? With two weeks of lessons under her belt she was thrilled at how well she was doing, but she was still new at the craft and by no means ready to go public with her efforts. Especially not to a professional jeweler.

“It sounded like he expected to see you later. As if you had a date,” he stated baldly.

“Gracious no. That’s just Rett.” She waved a careless hand, her comment true, yet not an outright denial, a fact that didn’t slip past Rick if his narrowed gaze was any indication. “He’s a bit of a flirt, you know,” she confided as if sharing a secret.

And then she just continued to smile and waited for him to move on.

And waited. He stood, hands in his pockets, staring at her.

“Or maybe I misunderstood,” she said guilelessly. “Did you want me to find him and ask him something?”

“No. I—” He glanced at his watch, clearly still suspicious, but mindful of his schedule. “Never mind. Can you stop by the legal department on your way back to your desk? I want to know if we’ve received the signed contracts from Emerson for the international deal. We should have received them by now.”

“Of course.” Savannah dumped the last of the trash, glad to have avoided the confrontation. For now. He’d find out eventually. But she hoped to be indispensable by then.

Her lessons were important to her. But private. For years the classes she took at night and online had been her only freedom, her bid for independence from too much responsibility at home.

She still took courses that interested her or furthered her career. She just didn’t talk about them much. Somehow, they’d always been too important to share. The knowledge, yes, but the classes, she kept to herself.

Nobody could steal the joy from her if they didn’t know about it.

Rick turned to leave, and then paused. “The doughnuts were a nice touch. Be sure to put in an expense voucher.”

Savannah watched him go. Not so stiff after all.

Deciding he needed a break later that afternoon, Rick dropped by Rett’s workshop to see if he wanted to go kayaking.

“Man that sounds so good.” Rett didn’t lift his head from the piece he was faceting. “But I have a client consult in twenty minutes. Can you wait an hour?”

“No. I only have about an hour. I’m going to go ahead and go. I really need to work off some tension,” Rick said.

“Okay, we’ll connect later in the week. Call me when you get back, so I don’t send the Coast Guard out looking for you,” Rett replied.

As he hopped into his kayak and began paddling against the waves, Rick realized he’d really needed the fresh air and exercise. Pitting himself against the ocean, using his mind and muscles to beat the elements gave him a sense of freedom he got nowhere else.

Unfortunately, the rhythmic lift, dip and pull of paddling, first one side and then the other, left room for thoughts of Savannah to invade his mind. Darn it. Too often thoughts of her occupied him when he should be concentrating on business.

The idea of her spending private time with Rett nagged at him. And not just because of Rick’s policy against interoffice relationships—Rett followed his own rules in that regard and was much less strict in his personal interaction with colleagues.

But Savannah was Rick’s. Oh, not romantically, but still, he realized he didn’t want to share her with anybody.

He dug in deeper, pulled back harder, causing water to roll over the sides of the shallow boat.

Okay, he’d noticed her soft curves and her great legs. Of course he’d noticed; he was a man after all. But he had no business noticing. She was his administrative assistant, not his girlfriend.

His inappropriate thoughts served as a reminder of why he never mixed business with pleasure. It was a bad practice. It definitely led to trouble and, for him, it had no future.

His muscles burned and the chill, salt-laden air felt good against his sweaty brow.

Marriage wasn’t for him. In his experience love was always followed by pain. Better to keep his relationships light and put his energies into the business.

As for Savannah, he wished her gone, not hanging out with Rett.

Turning the kayak, Rick firmly put thoughts of Savannah’s body, dating and marriage aside and headed back to shore. He had a business to tend to.

CHAPTER TWO

RICK HAD STEPPED OUT FOR LUNCH the next afternoon when a pretty redhead toting a baby carrier stopped by Savannah’s desk.