In Bed With The Boss

‘You what?’ He was still smiling—that faint, whimsical, sexy crook of his lips that had women toppling for him like ninepins—and Kalera could see him thinking that he had obviously misheard.

‘Last night…someone I’ve been seeing…I—he asked me to marry him…’

She faltered to a stop as she was witness to a sight unique in her experience: Duncan Royal stunned speechless. He looked like a man who had been hit over the head with a mallet. His quizzical smile vanished and his jaw sagged. His mouth opened and closed but the only sound that came out was a breathy wheeze. His olive complexion paled, accentuating the twin crescents of darker skin curving below the inner corners of his eyes and making him look as haggard as he was handsome. If it hadn’t been for his anchoring grip on her chair Kalera got the distinct impression that he would have toppled on his backside on the carpet.

He was, quite literally, floored!

In any other circumstances Kalera would have been highly amused. Duncan enjoyed jolting people out of their complacency and dropping verbal bombshells was one of his favourite methods of hijacking conversations. To turn the tables on him so effectively was quite a considerable feat. But she knew the peaceful state of suspended animation would not last very long.

‘We went out to dinner and he asked me to marry him and I said yes,’ she expanded hastily, hoping to stave off the barrage of questions she could see forming in his eyes. ‘So when I got home I took my old rings off. I can’t very well wear them when I’m engaged to someone else…although maybe I’ll wear the solitaire as a dress ring later, when—after we’re married…’

Duncan’s unblinking gaze moved down to her slender right hand, curled protectively at her waist, and she realised that he was seeking concrete proof of her claim.

‘I haven’t got a new engagement ring yet because we’re going to choose it together—tonight after work, as a matter of fact…’

Duncan shook his head once, violently, like a seasoned fighter emerging from a standing count. For once his intellect was lagging far behind the pace as he said slowly, ‘You’ve been seeing someone else?’

Kalera’s shoulders twitched in an awkward shrug. ‘As you just pointed out, Harry’s been gone two years now—’

‘You’ve been seeing another man?’

And to think Kalera had always felt inferior to his towering intellect! She couldn’t stop a bubble of nervous laughter escaping her throat. ‘Well, I certainly haven’t been dating other women. Besides, same-sex marriages are illegal, so there wouldn’t be much point in my becoming engaged to—’

Her feeble joke didn’t even bring a glimmer of humour to his expression. If anything it seemed to stoke his outrage.

‘You’ve been dating?’ He shoved her chair so it skidded back on its casters and stood up, fists planted on his lean hips. ‘Just how long has this been going on?’

‘A few months,’ she confessed, although in practical terms it had actually been much less than that.

His dark brows snapped together. ‘A few months! You’ve been seeing other men for months without even mentioning it?’

He made it sound as if she had been living a secret life of rampant promiscuity. One minute he was urging her to get over losing Harry, the next he was making her feel guilty for pre-empting his advice.

‘Not men,’ she protested, flushed with a mixture of guilt and indignance. ‘A man. Singular. And, well, it all started so casually there wasn’t really anything to mention…and, anyway, why should I? You don’t talk to me about the women that you date!’

‘That’s because—’ He broke off, and his eyes narrowed on her pink face. ‘No, I don’t, but that doesn’t prevent you knowing about them, does it? You field my calls, open my mail and have access to my diary and hard drive, and what you don’t know I’m sure the grapevine provides—this place is a hotbed of internal gossip and the network bulletin board seems to keep well up to date with jokes about my social life. I bet you end up knowing the women in my life better than I do!’

‘I doubt it,’ murmured Kalera sardonically, thinking of the progression of Body Beautifuls who had been photographed hanging on his arm, although, given Duncan’s legendary restlessness and the average tenure of his girlfriends, the idea wasn’t entirely far-fetched.

‘Oh, I didn’t mean in the carnal sense,’ he said, his gravelly voice outrageousness in its blandness as he segued smoothly into his interrogation. ‘So, who is he, then? This wonderful man who so casually infiltrated your life that he wasn’t worth mentioning to your friends?’ His expression hardened. ‘Or am I just the last to find out?’

Kalera shook her head. Unable to bear the inactivity, she pretended to straighten things on her desk. ‘No, I haven’t talked about him to anyone. It’s—rather awkward…’

He perched his hip on the edge of her desk, propping an elbow on the top of her VDU, the dark, pin-striped fabric of his trousers pulling taut across his long, muscular thigh as he absently hitched his polished heel onto the handle of her file drawer.

‘Why? Is he already married?’

She almost choked on her appalled gasp. ‘No!’

‘Divorced? Children kicking up a stink about Dad’s new girlfriend? No? Maybe you’re ashamed of him,’ he speculated, seeming to relish the idea. ‘Is he some kind of sleazy low-life you’re embarrassed to be seen with in public?’

Kalera knocked over the pen-holder she was needlessly repositioning. ‘No! Of course not,’ she denied, concentrating fiercely on rearranging the pens. ‘He’s very well-educated and successful. He has his own company…’

She waited for him to ask what line of business her new fiancé was in, but Duncan proved infuriatingly uncooperative.

‘So…he’s rich, then?’ he drawled, with the hint of a sneer.

He was purposely being provoking and Kalera was determined not to be provoked. ‘Yes.’

‘Good-looking?’

‘Very.’

‘Intelligent?’

‘Extremely.’

‘Good in bed?’

She didn’t miss a beat. ‘Scintillating.’

He opened his mouth and her patience deserted her as she added tartly, ‘He’s also kind, generous, fond of young children and animals and good to his mother.’

He pursed his lips and looked patronisingly sceptical. ‘Not cut the apron-springs yet? Is he much younger than you?’

‘Since I’m only twenty-seven, how much younger could he be?’ she snapped, bristling at the idea that she was the victim of a feminine mid-life crisis. ‘He’s not some smooth-talking gigolo or toy-boy if that’s what you’re implying. He happens to be in the prime of his life!’

‘What an interesting euphemism,’ he needled slyly, enjoying her small flare of temper. ‘I guess that means he’s more the sugar-daddy type.’

She sucked in her breath. ‘As a matter of fact, he’s exactly your age.’

His eyelids flickered. ‘He sounds exactly like me in every respect so far. Is this your coyly euphemistic way of telling me you’re panting with unrequited love for me?’

Her grey eyes flashed silver and she forgot she was supposed to be placating him. ‘You’re the last man on earth I’d want to fall in love with,’ she cried, her hands bunching into fists on top of her desk as she struggled with an uncharacteristic desire to break things. ‘My God, you are so arrogant!’

He shrugged, acknowledging the accusation with an insufferable grin of bone-deep confidence. The annoying thing was that his arrogance was largely justified; he seemed destined to excel at whatever he did. He joked about being a computer nerd but he was a far cry from the introverted, pasty-faced, pigeon-chested, techno-freak of popular misconception. At thirty-four Duncan kept himself at a peak of physical fitness in the company gym, and played cut-throat games of squash at a city club, smashing stronger opposition with his erratic brilliance and aggressive will to win.

‘Comes with the territory,’ he murmured. ‘You know—mid-thirties, good-looking, clever, stinking rich, kind to children and animals…’ His voice dropped an octave to a sexy purr that ruffled the nerves all the way up and down her spine. ‘Not to mention sizzling in bed. Tell me, Kalera, what has your mystery man got that I haven’t?’

She had said scintillating, not sizzling, but he had substituted the word deliberately. Sizzling had an altogether different connotation. Oh, yes, she could well believe that Duncan Royal could burn up the sheets when he was in the mood.

‘Humility!’ Kalera’s face glowed with a very un-Madonna-like spite as he winced.

‘Ouch!’ He tried to look humble and failed miserably. ‘Whoever he is he sounds far too good to be true.’

‘Well, he isn’t.’

The ring of sincerity in her voice made the teasing malice die out of his expression and he regarded her over the top of her computer, his dark brows lowered, overshadowing his brooding eyes, his square jaw tense.