Engaging the Boss (Heirs of Damon) (8 page)

They
could go back to work, and he could find ways to try to make up for his lapse.

“Okay.”
Then, because he was still worried, he added, “If you’re sure. Everything is
all right between us?”

“Sure,”
she said with a smile that was strangely bright. “I’m not about to claim this
ring is for real or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

That
wasn’t what he was worried about. He was worried about hurting her, but she
wasn’t acting hurt. So he gave her a half-smile. “It never crossed my mind.”

“All
right,” she said, “If we’ve got that taken care of, I’m going to take a
shower.” When she stood up, one of her legs buckled, and she had to brace
herself on the nightstand.

He
stood up quickly to support her, reaching out in concern.

“I’m
fine,” she assured him, pulling gently away from his arm. “Just a little sore.”
She flashed him a smile as she limped toward the bathroom. “Not that anything
happened last night.”

***

Sarah cried a little
bit in the shower, but she did so quietly and not for very long.

It
had been ridiculous for her to hope for anything else to happen. Jonathan was
never going to want her for any more than a night. In the light of day, she was
what she’d always been—his less-than-beautiful assistant. Smart and helpful but
not particularly desirable in any way.

Jonathan
would want so much more.

Men
just didn’t fall for her. She’d dated some in college and grad school, but
mostly because she was one of the few women in her programs. Guys didn’t seem to
really fall for her. Even Matt—whom she’d dated longer than anyone else—had
never said he loved her.

She
was pretty sure he never had.

It
was fine. She had plenty of other things going for her. She just had to make
sure this thing didn’t threaten her job, so she couldn’t let Jonathan see she
was hurt or upset about what had happened.

She’d
talked herself down from being crushed by the time she finished the shower.
And, by the time she’d dried her hair and got dressed, she felt ready to face
the world.

Nothing
had changed. She and Jonathan still worked together, and they would still get
along just fine. She’d just had a few good orgasms last night. She wasn’t about
to complain.

He
was already downstairs for breakfast, so she went down to the breakfast room.
Harrison, Laurel, and Marietta were at the table too, Marietta laughing at
something Harrison had said.

Sarah
smiled at everyone and went to get some coffee and fill her plate. She wasn’t
very hungry, but she didn’t want to act like anything was different this
morning.

She
sat down, asking for details on the tennis match they were talking about.
Jonathan hadn’t said anything, but she could feel him looking at her closely.

The
knowledge was disturbing, and she didn’t want him to know she was even slightly
disappointed. If he thought she’d be distracted at work from now on, then he
might wonder if she could still do her job. So she smiled at him. She smiled at
everyone. She laughed when appropriate, and she ate most of her eggs, bacon,
and Danish.

And
soon it felt like her face was going to break in half.

But
she made it through breakfast. And she made it through the morning, mostly by
accepting Laurel’s invitation to help her set up and decorate for the wedding
shower she was throwing for Marietta the next day.

Laurel
was nicer than Sarah had thought at first. She had an organized, no-nonsense
approach to everything—particularly planning something like a wedding—and Sarah
couldn’t help but admire her clear thinking and efficiency. But she wasn’t
really brusque, and she seemed to genuinely like and respect Sarah. So Sarah
was feeling better by lunchtime, having convinced herself that nothing about
her life had really changed.

When
she and Laurel walked into the entry hall, Sarah knew immediately that
something
had changed. There were voices coming from the parlor, but the vibes somehow
felt all wrong.

She
found out why when they followed the voices into the parlor.

Benjamin
Damon, the rebel nephew of the family, had decided to come after all.

Benjamin didn’t look
anything like a Damon.

He
wasn’t clean-cut and well-dressed like Harrison and Andrew or even handsome in
wrinkled clothes like Jonathan. His face was barely visible beneath an
untrimmed full beard, and he wore beat-up jeans and had tattoos all over one
arm.

He
couldn’t have showed up in a way more sure to offend his uncle if he’d tried.
For all Sarah knew, he
had
been trying.

He’d
arrived with a middle-aged, comfortable-looking woman who must be his mother,
and he clearly wasn’t enthusiastic about being here at all.

When
Sarah and Laurel arrived in the parlor, they were introduced to Benjamin and
his mother, Lucy Damon.

Sarah
wondered if she’d never been married or if she’d reverted to her maiden name
after a divorce. She could asked Jonathan later.

The
parlor was crowded, with Andrew and Harrison trying to make conversation with
Benjamin, and Cyrus and Marietta talking to Mrs. Damon.

Jonathan
had been listening to his cousins’ conversation, but he stood up when Sarah
entered the room. She walked over to stand beside him, since they were supposed
to be engaged.

She
felt nervous and kind of upset though, the sight of his big hands, wrinkled
shirt, and dark brown eyes making her think about how much she wanted him.

They
sat down together on the antique settee he’d been sitting on before, and they
were so close their thighs pressed together.

She
wondered if he was as uncomfortable as she was, or if he was oblivious about
the whole thing.

With
Jonathan, it was hard to tell.

Harrison
was valiantly trying to make civil conversation about Benjamin’s work at an
architecture firm, but Benjamin’s answers were terse and uninformative. When
Harrison made an optimistic comment about Benjamin’s future, suggesting he
would climb the ladder of promotion quickly, Benjamin said bluntly it wasn’t
going to happen.

Harrison
was evidently at a loss, and he looked discreetly to Andrew for help.

Andrew,
looking half-annoyed and half-amused, started telling Benjamin about the inn he
and Laurel had on Santorini. It was the right move, since it allowed him to do
most of the talking, and the rest of them could join in on mostly natural
conversation.

Sarah
listened with half her mind and with other she studied Benjamin. She didn’t
find him attractive, and she thought he was rather rude, but after a few
minutes she decided his behavior wasn’t the sulking of a rebellious adolescent.
He was grown-up—definitely all man—and he didn’t appear petty or mean-spirited.

Rather,
she decided he looked trapped, like he was desperate to get away and pulling
into his shell was the only way he could make it through the encounter.

She
couldn’t help but wonder what happened to make him hate his family so much.

She
must not have done a very good job about being discreet in her scrutiny.
Benjamin kept catching her eye and, on about the fourth time, he arched his
eyebrows and gave her a dry half-smile.

She
glanced away, hiding a smile. For the first time, she could see that he might
actually be as attractive as all the Damon nephews were known to be.

Not
as handsome as Jonathan, but she didn’t know anyone who was.

She
looked up at Jonathan and saw to her surprise that he was watching her. She
smiled up at him, a little hesitantly. She really wanted things to get back to
normal between them, even if her own emotions were running completely out of
control.

He
smiled back—the real smile she didn’t often see—and she felt a flush of
pleasure wash over her.

Maybe
everything wasn’t messed up. They’d always gotten along so well, and their work
could remain the priority.

Unfortunately,
their shared look had made her more conscious than ever of his big, warm body
beside her. She wanted to lean into him, wanted his arm around her.

To
distract herself, she looked at Benjamin again, trying to figure out what the
tattoo was that covered one of his inner arms.

Her
eyes darted up to his face, and she saw he’d caught her staring again.

Conversation
had shifted over to the wedding, and the talk felt disconnected enough for her
to start her own conversation. So she covered her staring by explaining to
Benjamin quietly, “I was trying to figure out your tattoo.”

 His
eyes very dark brown above his dark beard, but they weren’t cold or unkind. He
stretched out his arm so she could see the tattoo better.

It
was made up of interconnected shapes that didn’t form any coherent pattern. She
lowered her brows. “What does it mean?”

“That’s
what everyone asks.”

She
frowned, since she’d really wanted to know and didn’t appreciate this
indirection, but after a moment she could see he wasn’t going to tell her.

She
rolled her eyes when gave her another half-smile. This smile didn’t quite reach
his eyes.

To
her surprise, Jonathan moved just then, sliding one of his arms around her back
and pulling her against his side.

They
were supposed to be engaged. He was probably just playing the role. But it
seemed strange to Sarah, so she looked up at him.

To
most people, he would appear just as laidback as always, but to her he looked
annoyed for some reason.

She
had no idea why.

She
liked how his arm felt around her. Liked it so much she wanted to pull away.
She didn’t, of course. They’d gone too far for her to retreat from her role
now.

Gordon
appeared in the room to tell them lunch was ready, and Sarah sighed in relief
as she got up.

Her
back, shoulder, and side felt too warm, as if she could still feel Jonathan
against her. She couldn’t believe she’d had sex with him last night, that he’d
made her come so hard, that she’d urged him so shamelessly to take what he
wanted.

Nothing
was supposed to change, but her life still felt very different than it had been
just a week ago.

***

After lunch, the
non-family wedding guests started to arrive, so the house became hectic and full
of conversation. Jonathan said his uncle would be annoyed if he didn’t help
greet the new guests, but that she didn’t have to stick around to help.

She
hung around for a while, not wanting to look rude, but after an hour it was
clear that she was doing no good. She didn’t know anyone, wasn’t a member of
the family, and couldn’t help at all in greeting and or making guests feel at
home.

So
she decided it was safe to slip away.

She
took her ereader and went to the garden, deciding she would read for the afternoon
until all of the new guests were settled.

She
wandered around, trying to find a private nook. Then she remembered the secret
garden and made her way to the wall, where she found the hidden key and opened
the door.

She
settled herself on the hammock and read for a while. Then she actually dozed
off.

It
was after five when she woke up and realized she should probably get back to
the house. She hurriedly locked the door and made her way through the lawns,
hedges, and flower beds.

She
wasn’t late, she told herself. She had plenty of time to dress before dinner.
She just felt discombobulated since she’d fallen asleep without intending to.

She
ran into Benjamin as she was turning the corner around a hedge. He sat on a
bench, reading from an ereader too.

“We
had the same idea, I guess,” she said when he looked up and saw her. She showed
him hers.

“I
don’t know what you’re thinking in marrying into this family.” His words were
bitter, and so was his look as he glanced back toward the big manor house.

She
sat down beside him, since it seemed rude to walk away or hover over him.
“Everyone has been very nice to me.”

“Oh,
they’re always nice.”

She
studied him closely, trying to figure out why he was so angry. No one had been
anything but kind to him since he’d arrived. In fact, they’d run in circles
trying to make him feel at home.

“What
did they do to you?” she asked bluntly, since he seemed to prefer the direct
approach and she really wanted to know.

Benjamin
stared out at the statue of a Greek god that perched above a spill of petunias.
He didn’t answer for a long time.

Then
he murmured, “It’s not what they did.”

Sarah
wanted to follow up, but she could see it would be a futile effort. She was a
stranger, and he was obviously not the sharing kind.

“Benjamin,”
she began, basically just stalling as she tried to figure out what to say.

“I
actually prefer Ben.”

“Oh.
Sorry. Ben.” No one else called him Ben, but she was happy to call him whatever
he wanted. “What are you reading?”

It
was an awkward segue, but it turned out to be a good one. They talked about
books, and he seemed much more natural and comfortable. Not friendly and
certainly not loquacious. But at least she wasn’t having to carry the whole
conservation.

It
was time to dress for dinner when they finally walked back to the house
together. And she felt like she’d done a good job in being nice to him and
helping him feel more comfortable.

It
would be easier for Cyrus—for everyone—if Ben didn’t feel like such an
outsider, and she was glad she was able to help a little.

She
was satisfied with her afternoon’s work as she went back to her room. Jonathan
was already dressed for dinner in a dark suit and only slightly wrinkled gray
dress shirt, and he was sitting on the chaise at the window, reading a journal.
He had a comic book next to him, for when he finished the journal or got bored.

He
looked at her when she entered but didn’t smile.

“Is
everything all right?” she asked, since it wasn’t his typical expression. “Am I
late?”

He
glanced at his watch, as if he had no idea what time it was. “What were you
doing?”

“Just
reading in the garden.” She went to the closet and tried to figure out what she
should wear. She already had outfits picked out for the wedding shower, the
rehearsal dinner, and the wedding itself—but it was hard to have to look nice
every single evening. Pretty soon, she would have to start repeating outfits.

“What
were you reading?” he asked.

“Nothing
too interesting,” she replied, not wanting to tell him she was reading the
latest of a very sexy vampire series. His image of her didn’t include vampires
or sexy books, and she’d like for it to remain that way.

She
pulled out a blue silk sheathe dress—the first one the attendant had suggested
she try on at the department store. She hadn’t worn it yet, since it was more
revealing than the other dresses she’d worn so far and she was a little nervous
about it.

But
she decided she’d be brave so she hung it over one arm. When she turned, she
saw Jonathan was watching her.

“You
spent all afternoon reading something not interesting?”

She’d
almost forgotten her innocuous comment, and she was a little annoyed he was
pursuing this random conversation. “It was fine. Just a book. Nothing you would
have heard of. Why does it matter?”

“It
doesn’t.”

She
went to the drawer and picked out a pair of stockings. Then decided she better
wear a different pair of underwear, or she’d have pantyline visible beneath the
thin fabric of her dress. So she grabbed a lace thong, very different from the
cotton bikini panties in different bright colors she normally wore.

She
hid the stockings and the panties beneath her dress, since Jonathan was still
sitting there watching her.

It
would have been polite for him to leave and let her dress in privacy, but he didn’t.

“How
do you know I wouldn’t have heard of it?” he asked.

She
frowned. “You read scientific journals and comic books. It wasn’t one of
those.”

Why
the hell had he gotten the book she was reading between his teeth this way? He
could be obnoxiously stubborn when he got a hold of something.

Since
he didn’t appear inclined to leave, she went into the bathroom to change. She
was about to close the door when he said, “I do occasionally read other things,
you know.”

There
was the overly patient note in his tone that she’d heard before when he was
annoyed by something. She couldn’t for the life of her figure out what would
have annoyed him. She left the door half-open while she stripped off her top
and pants. “It wasn’t an insult. I just never see you reading anything else.”

He
didn’t answer, so to change the direction of the conversation, she said, “I ran
into Ben as I was coming back. He’s really interesting.”