Not Strictly Business!: Prodigal Son / The Boss and Miss Baxter / The Baby Deal

Helen smiled. “I wonder if you really do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Be kind to my friend.”

“I’ll do my best.” He shook his head. “You put her name on the short list. I’d wondered how it got there.”

“I knew she would do a good job and I thought she was someone you could trust.”

There was something in her voice that implied she knew more than she was saying. How much had Samantha told her about their previous relationship?

“Good call on your part,” he said.

“Thanks. I have my moments.” She looked around at the large gathering. “Ready to plunge back into the hordes?”

“No, but there’s not much choice.”

She glanced back at him. “I know you don’t care or even want to hear this, but your father would have been very proud of you.”

He didn’t say anything because he was starting to like and respect Helen, but as she walked away he acknowledged she was right. He didn’t care about what his father thought.

Samantha knew she was babbling. It was late, she was tired and hungry and she couldn’t seem to stop talking.

“I think the party had a real positive impact on our relationships with our advertisers,” she said as Jack stopped at a light. “There was so much good feedback and I have some great ideas to bring to the next creative meeting for the Web site.”

He drove through the quiet, empty streets, nodding every now and then. She knew neither of them was really interested in business and that he already knew everything she was saying.

“The band was good, too,” she added with a bright smile. “A lot of people were dancing. That doesn’t usually happen at parties like this. But everyone seemed really relaxed. Didn’t you think so? Weren’t you relaxed?”

He stopped for another light and turned to glance at her. “You don’t have to entertain me on the drive home,” he said. “It’s okay if we don’t talk.”

Great. So she’d bored him.

She firmly pressed her lips together and vowed not to say another word between here and the parking garage at their building. From there it was a short elevator ride to her condo.

Silence, she told herself. She could do silence.

“I like your car,” she said before she could stop herself. “Is it new?”

“About two years old. Why are you so nervous?”

“Me? I’m not. I’m fine. I had a good time tonight.”

“You sure didn’t drink. As far as I could tell you didn’t eat. So what’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’m fine. Perfectly. See? This is me being fine.”

He pulled into the parking garage and drove to his space. When he turned off the engine, he shifted so that he faced her.

“Are you worried I’m going to make a pass at you?” he asked.

The blunt question shocked her into silence. If she looked at things from the right perspective, life sure had a sense of humor. For the past few weeks she’d been hoping Jack wouldn’t notice her as anything but a coworker. Now she wanted him to see her as a desirable woman and he was worried she thought he was going to come on to her. Which meant he wasn’t.

She’d spent the entire evening in shoes that made her feet hurt for nothing.

“Why would I worry about that?” she asked, not able to meet his gaze.

“Because of what happened the last time we were alone together.”

Ah, yes. That magical kiss. “It was nice,” she whispered.

“I thought so, too. Still do.” He leaned across her and opened her door. “Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

He came around and helped her out of the car, then took her hand as they walked to the elevator. Seconds later the doors opened and they stepped inside.

She wanted to say something. Maybe invite him inside or at least come off as cool and sophisticated. But she couldn’t think of anything good and she didn’t know how to tell him she wasn’t exactly ready for the evening to be over. Maybe in her next life she would understand men and deal with them better. In this one, she was batting a big, fat zero.

The elevator stopped on her floor. She turned to say good-night, only he was stepping off the elevator and leading her to her door.

She dug for her key in her tiny evening bag and clutched it in her hand.

Her place was at the end of the hall. Jack took the key from her, opened the door then cupped her face and smiled at her.

“You’ve told me no plenty of times,” he said quietly. “Tonight your eyes are saying something different. Which should I believe? Your words or your eyes?”

Her stomach flipped over, her throat went dry and it was all she could do to keep hanging on to her purse.

It all came down to this. What did she want from Jack?

“Talk has always been overrated,” she whispered.

“I agree,” he said as he eased her into the condo and closed the door behind them.

She heard the lock turn just before he bent down and kissed her.

She instinctively leaned into him, wanting to feel his mouth on hers. When his lips brushed against her mouth, she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him in place.

They surged together, need growing until her mind overflowed with images of them together, naked, craving. Even as she tilted her head and parted her lips, she dropped her purse on the floor and stepped out of her shoes.

He took advantage of her invitation with a quickness that heated her blood. He nipped at her lower lip, then swept his tongue into her mouth where he claimed her with an eagerness that made her thighs tremble.

His hands were everywhere. Her shoulders, her bare arms, her back. She touched him, as well, stroking the breadth of his shoulders, before starting to tug on his jacket.

He quickly shrugged out of it, letting it fall, then he pulled off his tie. He broke the kiss, then turned her so her back was to him.

“Cuffs,” he murmured as he pushed her hair over her right shoulder, then held out his hands in front of her.

But removing the gold-and-diamond cuff links was more difficult than it should have been. Even as she reached for the fastening, he nibbled on her bare shoulder, then licked the same spot.