Engaging the Boss (Heirs of Damon) (5 page)

It
wasn’t true, but it was really nice that he’d said it.

But,
when she shook hands with Laurel, whom he introduced to her in a way that
somehow conveyed her preciousness, Sarah was immediately intimidated.

Laurel
was as tall and slender as a model, and she was stunningly beautiful, with dark
hair, dark eyes, and sculpted cheekbones that looked faintly Native American.

She
smiled as they were introduced, but she seemed a lot more aloof than Marietta.

She
made Sarah feel, even in her pretty new clothes, like a frumpy plebian.

Laurel
and Marietta were obviously close, which made Sarah feel even more like an
outsider. She was used to feeling that way—she had all the time at school—but
she’d been feeling more comfortable with herself lately, even that morning, so
the realization hit her like a blow.

She
withdrew, standing beside Jonathan, who looked like he’d rather be elsewhere as
well. She was grateful when he put an arm around her waist, even though she
knew it was just part of their pretense.

They
chatted for a while in the entry hall, about the storm, about the trip, about
details of the wedding. Laurel was going to be the maid-of-honor and evidently
took her role seriously. She pulled out a file folder with all of her duties
organized with print-outs and to-do lists.

Finally,
Gordon suggested that Andrew and Laurel might want to get settled, so the group
disbanded.

Jonathan
went back into the breakfast room, to get his coffee and journal Sarah assumed.
She was going to follow him when Marietta stopped her.

“Laurel
and I are going shopping this afternoon for wedding things. Please say you’ll
come with us.”

If
Marietta had been just being polite, Sarah wouldn’t have accepted, but the
other woman’s expression was open and sincere.

As
if she really did want Sarah to come along.

“Thank
you,” she said. “I’d love to.” She didn’t really want to spend another day
shopping, but hanging out with the women might be easier than trying to muddle
through the pretense with Jonathan. “I need to check with Jonathan, to make
sure he didn’t have anything planned, but otherwise it would be great.”

Jonathan,
when asked, said it was fine, so Sarah went shopping two days in a row for the
first time in her life.

***

Jonathan didn’t have a
very good day.

He
was a little annoyed that Sarah had deserted him. He’d been hoping they could
do something away from the estate. She hadn’t been to England before, so they
could have done some sight-seeing, which would give him an excuse to not to
spend awkward time with his family.

Instead,
he had no choice but to accept when his uncle suggested they tour the estate,
since it had been so long since he’d been there and he’d missed all the latest
improvements.

Cyrus
Damon was obviously making an effort to be civil, but Jonathan could have done
without several hours with his uncle.

It
was bad enough that his uncle had always treated his scientific ambitions as
second-class, just because Jonathan hadn’t wanted to be involved in the family
business. But now he’d forced him to concoct this ludicrous scheme and
potentially damage the good working relationship he had with Sarah in order to
keep his uncle happy and his lab funded.

If
his uncle had cared about him at all, Jonathan would have no complaints about
putting up with any number of annoyances and eccentricities. But, for Cyrus
Damon, it was all about family obligation.

Nothing
Jonathan had ever done had been good enough for him.

He
made it through the tour of the estate without offending his uncle, and then he
was able to escape to the media room for the rest of the afternoon to play Sea
and Sky, which used to be his favorite video game. The estate, of course, had
all the up-to-date game technology one could hope for, but he dug up the dated
game system so he could play his favorite game. He’d stayed up late playing it
the night before, instead of going to bed with Sarah, and he’d found it a good
distraction.

The
women were having dinner in London, so it was just the men that evening.
Harrison and Andrew were obviously trying to be friendly, so Jonathan made an
effort to respond. They weren’t bad. They were just different, and his work
wouldn’t really impress them. He didn’t think he’d ever be really close to
them.

By
the evening, he was irrationally annoyed with Sarah. He was used to having her
around all the time. She filled his coffee, reminded him of things he might
forget, and otherwise smoothed over rough corners. He could have used her help
in dealing with his family, but instead she was off gallivanting on another
shopping trip.

How
much shopping did a woman need to do? She’d already bought out half of London
the day before.

It
was late when she got back, and Jonathan was reading in bed. She looked tired
and said she was going to take a shower.

Jonathan
just nodded and kept reading, hoping that concentrating on the words on the
page would help distract him from the thought of Sarah and her lush body
getting into the bed with him.

His
hopes were not realized. When she came out a few minutes later, she wore a
simple pajama set—cream colored top with lace straps and cotton shorts—but it
emphasized the curves of her breasts and hips. She must have just brushed her
hair, since it hung down in shiny waves around her shoulders.

She
looked fresh, pretty, almost innocent—and so sexy his body tightened.

He
tried even harder to focus on the tedious findings of a research project he cared
nothing about as she walked over and got under the covers beside him.

She
smelled like vanilla with an undertone of something fresh like lime. He’d seen
the scented lotion on the sink in the bathroom, and the fragrance did something
dangerous to his body.

He
didn’t know what was wrong with him. He’d spent all day, every day with Sarah
for the last three years.

He
worked with her. He didn’t respond to her like
this
.

“How
was your day?” she asked, turning out the light on her bedside table. Only his
light was still on now, casting strange shadows on the rest of the room.

“Fine.”
He could feel her moving beside him, and he tried desperately not to think
about how her soft body would feel against his.

“Is
everything all right?”

It
was a familiar question. She asked it of him a lot, usually in response to
something going wrong in the lab. Very often, she would have a solution.

She
could offer him a solution to his current predicament, but it wasn’t one he
would ever accept.

He
couldn’t have sex with her, no matter how much he temporarily wanted to. Their
work was too important, and he didn’t want to think about trying to do that
work without her, which was what would happen if they indulged in an affair.

“Jonathan?”
she prompted. She was looking at him—he could feel it—and he realized he hadn’t
answered her question.

“Everything’s
fine.”

She
didn’t say anything immediately, but she was still watching him. He wished she
wouldn’t. It was giving him very wrong thoughts.

“Are
you annoyed with me?” she asked at last, as if she’d just figured it out.

He
swallowed. He’d been annoyed earlier, but he’d known even then it was
irrational. She hadn’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t her fault she looked so
luscious all of a sudden and he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Jonathan?”
she prompted, making him realize yet again he hadn’t answered her. “Are you
annoyed?”

“No.
Of course, not.” He tempered his tone, so as not to convey his impatience over
her pursuing the questioning when he obviously wanted to be left alone.

“You
are
annoyed,” she said, as if it was resolved now in her mind. “Or
frustrated or something. What did I do?”

“You
didn’t do anything.” If she didn’t shut up soon, he was just going to leave the
room. He could think of some sort of an excuse.

“Jonathan,
look at me,” she said sharply.

He
did and then knew it was a mistake. She was on her side, propping her head on
one hand. Her top had slipped down, exposing far more cleavage than was good
for him to see. Too much of her fair skin was exposed, looking smooth and soft
and tempting. And her full lips were turned down in a frown.

“Tell
me what you’re frustrated about.”

He
obviously couldn’t tell her his most urgent frustration, so he hid that with a
lesser frustration from earlier, the one he didn’t care about anymore. “It’s
really nothing. I had thought we might do some sight-seeing today, just to get
away. I wish you would have checked with me before you went shopping.”

It
sounded petty even as he said it, but it was better than admitting how much he
was fighting arousal.

Her
lower lip fell open in astonishment. “Are you kidding? I
did
check with
you. You said it was fine.”

“What
could I have said then? You’d already made plans.”

She
took a deep breath, evidently suppressing a surge of annoyance. “You’ve got to
tell me things, Jonathan. Seriously. We’re never going to get through this,
otherwise. I know you’re the strong, silent type or whatever, but this isn’t
going to work unless you communicate a little more.”

“Communicate
what?” He was almost relieved at the surge of annoyance since it dampened his
physical response. A little.

“Communicate
what you want! How am I supposed to know what you’re thinking unless you tell
me? I can figure a few things out on my own, but not everything and not all the
time.”

“I
tell you what you need to know. The rest of it doesn’t matter.”

“Of
course it matters,” she exclaimed, her voice rising in her frustration. “You’d
had something in mind for us to do today, but you never told me what it was. I
would have been thrilled to go sightseeing with you. It would have been much
better than spending endless hours shopping for wedding lingerie for someone
else’s marriage.”

She
broke off, flushing deeply, as if she were suddenly embarrassed.

He
wasn’t sure why she would be embarrassed, but it made her look even more
desirable, and he felt his groin tightening again at the sight.

“Anyway,
the point is I would have been happy to do what you’d been planning if you’d
bother to let me know what it was!”

“Okay.
Fine. I’m sorry,” he muttered, unused to seeing Sarah so intense and demanding
and unsettled by how irresistible he was finding it.

He
was used to her fitting herself around him so smoothly he was barely aware of
her a lot of the time. He hadn’t realized she was so passionate. About
anything.

He
wondered if she’d be passionate in bed.

He
really shouldn’t have wondered that. He was fully aroused now, and he shifted
awkwardly, making sure to position himself under the covers in a way that it
wouldn’t show.

She
sighed deeply and seemed to release all of her urgency. “I’m sorry,” she
murmured, “I shouldn’t have been…been so snippy. But please try to talk to me a
little more. I’m doing my best, but it’s hard. I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You’re
doing great,” he said, since she looked momentarily insecure. “I appreciate you
doing it at all. Was shopping really so bad?”

“No.
It wasn’t that bad. I’m just not a shopping kind of person. They were both
really nice. Even Laurel, even though at first I thought…Anyway, it was fine.
It just got a little weird when they kept wanting me to buy lingerie too.”

The
image of Sarah in sexy lingerie was one he wished hadn’t entered his mind. Then
he thought about her in the stockings she was wearing the day before. Tumbled
and sleepy as she’d been when he’d woken her up earlier this week.

It
took all of his self-control not to roll over and kiss her the way he had that
morning. That kiss had been spontaneous, just to prove he could act
appropriately engaged, but it had felt real in a way it shouldn’t.

He
wanted to do it again. He wanted to do even more.

He
wanted Sarah. Bad.

He
turned out the light so he couldn’t see her anymore. Then he waited very
uncomfortably until her breathing slowed and deepened.

When
she was asleep, he got up and went to the bathroom to take care of the
inconvenient erection as quickly and quietly as he could.

Sarah woke up feeling
way too warm and cozy.

She
knew immediately something was wrong—she never woke up feeling so good.
Shifting a little, she felt something hard and hot beneath her cheek and
against her chest and belly. She lifted her head and peered through heavy
eyelids to see Jonathan’s face just a few inches from hers.

Sucking
in a quick breath, she drew back the arm that was wrapped around his waist and
rolled over so she wasn’t pressed up against his side. Her cheek was hot from
being smashed up against his chest.

She
must have rolled over to snuggle with him in her sleep, she realized with a
wave of embarrassment.

Fortunately,
he was still asleep. Or he had been until she jerked away. He looked up at her
groggily, his brown eyes disoriented and strangely soft. “Hi,” he said.

Despite
herself, she couldn’t help but smile in response. “Hi.” An almost irresistible
impulse hit her. She wanted to curl up beside him again, tuck herself beneath
his arm, feel him breathe beneath her cheek.

She
wanted it so badly it hurt.

But
this was Jonathan. Her boss. And she could never have him that way. Even if she
didn’t work for him, he would never want
her
.

“What
time is it?” Jonathan asked. He could have looked over at the clock himself,
but he didn’t. He was still gazing up at her with sleepy affection.

It
wasn’t affection. She wasn’t so foolish as to believe so. It must just be how he
looked when he first woke up.

“Not
even five. Too early to get up.”

He
made a murmured sound of affirmation, and she settled herself under the covers,
still fighting the impulse to scoot closer to him. He breathed beside her,
slowly, steadily. She could feel the heat from his big body.

She
had no idea what he was thinking, what he felt about…anything.

And
there wasn’t much chance she would ever find out.

***

After breakfast that
morning, Jonathan disappeared again, exactly as he had two nights before.

It
was honestly a little annoying.

She
was his guest here. She was doing him a favor. It was his responsibility to
make sure she wasn’t deserted to a bunch of intimidating strangers.

The
house guests had all scattered for the morning. Marietta and Laurel had gone to
the final fitting of the wedding dress. They’d invited Sarah, but she’d
politely refused. They were both very friendly, but she didn’t know them very
well. Wedding dress fittings seemed like something you wouldn’t want to do with
a stranger.

Besides,
Jonathan had mentioned he’d wanted to do some sightseeing with her yesterday,
so she thought maybe they could do it today instead.

Except
he’d disappeared.

Instead
of going up and hiding in her room—which was what she really wanted to do—Sarah
walked around the gardens. They were remarkable and must take an army of
gardeners to keep so well-tended. She wandered aimlessly, finding unexpected
nooks and hidden bowers and trying not to brood over Jonathan’s frustrating
behavior.

As
she turned around one long, immaculate hedge, she almost ran into Cyrus Damon.
He was walking quickly, his phone in his hand and a frown on his face.

“Oh,
I’m sorry,” Sarah said instinctively, although the near collision was as much
his fault as hers. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“My
fault,” he said, his expression changing into a courteous smile. “Can I help
you find something?”

“No,
no. I was just wandering around, admiring the gardens. I hope that’s all
right.”

“Of
course it is, my dear. I hope you’re making yourself at home.” He glanced
behind her, as if he were looking to see if anyone was trailing. “You’re on
your own this morning?”

The
implication in his raised eyebrows was clear. His nephew was failing in his
duties.

She
swallowed over the temptation to make an excuse for Jonathan. There was no
excuse. He was supposed to be her fiancé, and he’d left her alone in a strange
place. “Yes, I am.” She smiled to make it clear she was content with the
situation.

She
might just be a fake fiancée, but she wasn’t going to be the kind who whined
about being neglected.

“Then
may I join you?” Cyrus asked, with a formal courtesy she’d rarely encountered.

“Thank
you. But you really don’t have to. I’m sure you’re busy, and I don’t mind—”

“I’m
not busy at all,” he insisted. It was convincing, although it must be a lie. By
all accounts, the man had made his fortune by working harder than anyone else.
“Have you stumbled upon the secret garden yet?”

“No,”
she said, charmed by the idea and the girlish daydreams it evoked. “I don’t
think so. I used to love that book.”

He
wasn’t an attractive man—graying, average-sized, and nondescript. But when he
smiled in that winsome way, he transformed into something incredibly appealing.
For the first time, she could see the resemblance to Jonathan. “Then you’ll
love the garden. Let me show you.”

They
walked slowly, occasionally talking companionably about the flowers,
sculptures, and trees they past. After a few minutes, he asked her about her
family, and she told him about her parents’ small web design business in Nevada
and about her sister, nephews, and niece, who now lived in the same
neighborhood as her parents.

He
seemed genuinely interested, although it was a very average, unimpressive
family background. There was something faintly wistful in his eyes when he
asked if they were all still close.

She
told him the truth. She’d always been close to her family. She talked to her
parents every day and her sister at least once a week. But then she wished she
hadn’t told him, since it seemed to have made Cyrus sad.

He
didn’t reply, and she didn’t know what to say. So they walked in silence until
they rounded another large ornamental hedge and moved into a wooded area. After
a minute, they nearly ran into a stone wall. “Here it is,” Cyrus said. “The
door is just here. The key is hidden, of course.”

“I
can see why it’s secret,” she said when he pushed his way past thick branches
to pull out a loose stone and retrieve a key. “I never would have found this on
my own.”

When
he opened the creaky door, she clapped her hands in uninhibited delight. Unlike
the rest of the gardens, which were formal and immaculate, this one was free
and sprawling in the English style, with flower beds spilling over into each
other, big trees growing in haphazard directions, and stone benches and pots
nearly overgrown with ivy and vines.

“I
love it!” She turned full circle, trying to take in everything. “It’s my
favorite part of the whole estate.”

After
a moment, she shot him a quick glance, not wanting her comment to be
unintentionally insulting. Cyrus didn’t look offended, however. He looked
wistful again.

“Was
this here when you bought the estate?” she asked, searching for innocuous
conversation, since she was feeling strangely sorry for the man beside her and
had no idea what to do with the feeling.

He
nodded. “One of the previous owners built it in the nineteenth century. It was
completely overrun when I bought it. My landscapers wanted to just tear the
walls down, but I wouldn’t let them. It took years to get it back into shape.”

“I’m
so glad you did. I love it.”

She
stood a little awkwardly, unsure of whether he would want to leave or not now
that he’d shown her the garden. She didn’t want to leave yet, but she didn’t
want him stick around just to entertain her.

She
was trying to think of a polite way to suggest that he could leave her on her
own in the garden when he walked over to one of the stone benches. “Would you
like to sit?”

She
walked over, amazed that he didn’t sit until she did. Sarah didn’t think anyone
followed old rules of courtesy anymore.

Cyrus
folded his hands in his lap and stared down at the grass at his feet. “Is
Jonathan doing all right?” he asked, without prelude or segue.

Sarah
blinked, processing the question and what it might mean. “Yes. He’s fine.”

“I
know he’s successful in his career. What I mean is—is he happy?”

“I
think he’s happy,” Sarah said slowly. “I hope he is, anyway.”

Cyrus
looked at her, almost urgently. “I don’t mean the question to be any sort of
affront against you. I’m very pleased he’s decided to marry and that he’s
chosen you. But he never talks to me.”

“I
know he talks on the phone to you fairly often.” She had no idea how to handle
this conversation. She didn’t want to say anything about Jonathan she shouldn’t—since
she knew he had mixed feelings about his uncle—but Cyrus seemed so inexplicably
needy. She wanted to make him feel better.

“But
he never says anything—anything
real
. I don’t feel like I know him at
all, and I’ve never been able to reach him. I have tried.” He looked away
again. “I
have
tried.”

Sarah
swallowed over a thick knot in her throat. There was no reason to feel
emotional, but she did. “Jonathan is just that way. He’s really private, and he
doesn’t open up easily.”

“How
did you do it?” Cyrus shook his head, as if he realized the question was rude
and inappropriate. “I’m sorry. If you have any advice for me on how to best
reach him, I would appreciate it.”

She
didn’t know much about this man, but she knew enough to realize his asking for
help was uncharacteristic and noteworthy. Something must really be bothering
him. From what she’d heard, he’d had a big blow up with Harrison last year,
which they’d just now gotten past. And, until recently, Andrew had a notorious
reputation that probably put him on the outs with his uncle as well.

Benjamin,
the youngest Damon nephew, didn’t talk to any of them. No one knew whether he
was going to come to the wedding or not, although his mother was supposed to
arrive the following day.

Sarah
suddenly wondered if Cyrus Damon might be lonely. He might be a rigid,
old-fashioned tyrant, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t get lonely.

She
thought for a minute before she answered, trying to give him the best response
she could. “He closes up if you try to force personal topics on him. He’ll feel
like it’s prying and like it’s artificial, if you haven’t built up to it
naturally. Maybe you can talk to him about his work. He’s passionate about that
and he can talk about it all day long. If he knows you’re really interested in
it, he’ll be more likely to believe you want to get to know him.”

Damon
nodded, his face reflective. “I’ve talked to him about his work before.”

“But
it was always in the context of funding the project, right? Maybe you can show
interest in the work for its own sake.”

After
she’d spoken, she thought she’d made a mistake. She cringed inwardly, afraid he
would think she’d insulted him.

But
he didn’t look offended. Just thoughtful still.

“He…”
she began, then trailed off when she rethought the comment.

“He
what?”

“He
does
things to show how he feels, rather than says things.” She knew
this was true, and it was one of the reasons she loved him. Jonathan had never
once told her he appreciated her as an assistant, but he showed her all the
time—by stocking her peppermints, by fixing her chair wheel, by trusting her
with really important tasks without any sort of micromanaging.

Since
Cyrus didn’t respond, she figured the topic was over, so she just sat in
silence, admiring the garden, thinking about Jonathan.

After
a few minutes, Cyrus said without warning, “His parents were not affectionate.”

She
turned sharply to look at him. “What?”

“Jonathan’s
parents. They were not affectionate. At all. Now, I will be the first to admit
that I’m not a domestic man and I know next to nothing about raising children.
But even I could have done better than his parents—my brother and
sister-in-law.”

“Were
they…” She trailed off, unsure of how much she could presume. He might be in an
atypically talkative mood, but that didn’t mean he would welcome invasive
questions.

“They
weren’t abusive, of course. I believe they loved him. But they treated him like
an adult, even when he was barely past a toddler. They praised him for achievements.
They kept pushing him to excel more and more in academics—even when he was just
ten. I really think he might have believed they only loved him when he earned
it.”

Sarah
gulped, understanding something about Jonathan she hadn’t known before. It fit.
It fit perfectly with the rest of what she knew about him—why he only allowed
work into his life, why he did things to show he appreciated other people and
never wanted any thanks.

And
her heart ached for him, more than it ever had before.