Engaging the Boss (Heirs of Damon) (10 page)

Jonathan
had never seen anything sexier in his life.

Everyone
was getting better as they played, so Jonathan should have been concentrating
more closely on the game. But he kept getting distracted by Sarah. By the way
her breasts jiggled as she moved the joystick. By the lace tops of her
stockings which had slid down and were peeking out beneath her hem. By the idea
that all of these other men were getting to see her this way.

It
was only the distraction that made him miss an obvious kill, only the
distraction that allowed Sarah to grab the last starfish before he did.

The
room burst into a loud roar of excitement when Sarah won the game, the others
clearly elated at the mere fact that someone—anyone—had managed to beat him.

Sarah
raised herself higher on her knees, cheering uninhibitedly at her victory. She
returned Benjamin’s double high-five and accepted the loud praise from the
others.

Then
she turned to Jonathan, beaming, her face spilling over with excitement. “What
do you have to say for yourself, loser?”

He
tried not to smile in response, but he wasn’t entirely successful. He did
manage, however, to keep his voice dry as he replied, “I took pity on you and
let you win.”

The
others exclaimed loudly over the injustice of this remark, and Sarah gave him a
friendly shove, which caused her to lose her balance and fall against him.

He
put his arms around her automatically for support, but it somehow turned into a
hug. She was so much warmth and sincerity and passion and brilliance. She was
so soft and gorgeous and completely Sarah.

She
made everything better.

She
made
him
better.

The
embrace felt private but wasn’t, and no one seemed to think it was strange,
since they were supposed to be engaged. They were all still talking and
laughing, and Sarah was trying to right herself, extricating herself from his
arms, when they noticed someone else was in the room.

His
uncle stood in the doorway, watching his nephews with an oddly quiet expression
on his face.

The
laughing and chatting faded when they became aware of his presence.

Cyrus
Damon was who he was. He was who he’d always been. And this kind of uproarious,
chaotic gathering was nothing like the eminently civil, elegant, formal affairs
he favored.

Jonathan
felt his stomach drop, although they obviously hadn’t been doing anything
wrong.

Sarah,
however, didn’t seem to think anything was strange or uncomfortable. She smiled
at his uncle with that same wide, glowing smile and asked, “Did you want to
play? You can have my spot if you want. I’ve already beat all your nephews.”

His
uncle’s expression was surprised, but then it softened into a startlingly kind
smile. “No, dear, but thank you. Maybe I’ll just watch you beat them again.”

Sarah woke up very warm
and comfortable again. This morning she immediately knew why.

Once
more, she was cuddled up against Jonathan.

It
was honestly a little embarrassing—that her sleeping self was so insistent on
being close to him. His arm was around her, though, holding her body tightly
against his side, so at least she wasn’t the only one guilty of unconscious
snuggling.

She
raised her head slightly and was surprised to see in the dim light that his
eyes were open.

He’d
been staring up at the ceiling, but his eyes shifted to her at her slight
motion.

“Hi,”
she said, smiling a little shyly. After all, it could be a little awkward,
cozying up to her boss in bed this way.

“Hi.”
Jonathan made no move to get up, which surprised her. The previous mornings,
he’d rolled out of bed as soon as he was awake. There was a strange look on his
face too—thoughtful, almost poignant.

“Are
you all right?” she asked, instinctively tightening the arm that was still
draped around his middle. When she realized she was hugging his flat, bare
belly—that she could feel the thin line of hair that trailed down under his
waistband—she drew back her arm immediately.

“Yeah.”
He didn’t pull back his arm or roll away, but he wasn’t looking at her anymore.

Since
she had nowhere else to put her arm, she laid it back on his abdomen, but made
sure it was just resting there rather than hugging him. Or stroking him, which
was what she really wanted to do.

He
didn’t say anything else, and she felt another prickle of worry. There was so
much going on in his mind that she just didn’t know. “Are you sure? You were
kind of quiet last night. I mean, after the game.”

“We
went to bed after the game.”

That
was true, and he’d never been a big talker, but he’d been unusually withdrawn
last night.

“I
know.” She paused for a moment, struggling over whether she dared to say more.
Then, “I thought you had a good time—with the others.”

“I
did.”

She
was silent after that, since it felt like he had more to say. Intuitively, she
knew that if she pressed any further, he would close up and never say it. Her
hand flattened on his belly—his flesh warm and firm beneath her palm. It lifted
and lowered slightly with his breathing.

After
a long stretch of silence, he added, “I never expected to have a good time with
them.”

The
words were vague, almost diffident, but she understood them immediately. He’d
never felt a part of a family that way. The idea made her incredibly sad. “I
think your uncle was surprised too. But he seemed to…he seemed to enjoy it. I
think.”

“Yeah.
It was…”

“It
was what?” She was almost holding her breath, wondering what he would say.

“It
was strange. I’ve always thought I would never be able to do enough to earn his
respect or…appreciation, but last night…when I wasn’t even trying…”

She
swallowed hard, wanting to say so much but terrified of saying anything—of
stepping over some line. She finally murmured, “Maybe it’s not about earning it.”

He
didn’t reply, but he didn’t seem to resent what she’d said.

They
lay together in silence for a few more minutes, until Sarah realized she was
caressing his belly after all. Her hand was under the sheet, but she glanced
down at it anyway.

When
she did, she saw something else.

He
was hard.

The
knowledge did something dangerous in her chest and between her legs. She’d
never really thought she was the kind of woman who would turn on a man like
Jonathan. Sure, if he was half-asleep in a dark room, but not just lying
together in the morning light.

But
maybe…maybe…

She
darted a glance up to his face, with a jittery hope that she’d see heat,
desire, or at least some sort of physical interest.

Instead,
he just gave a half-shrug, obviously realizing what she’d noticed. “It’s
morning.”

Comprehension
dropped on her like a brick. His hard-on wasn’t about her after all—just a
normal morning erection.

“Yeah,”
she said, trying for a casual smile. “Must be very inconvenient for you.”

He
did roll away then and climbed out of bed. As he walked to the bathroom, she
took an automatic assessment of the smoothly rippling muscles of his shoulders
and back, his firm butt under his shorts, and his strong, hairy legs. He looked
masculine, virile, incredibly domestic.

She
wanted him desperately—and not just physically—but he didn’t want her at all.

***

At breakfast that
morning, Sarah was still worried about Jonathan. It seemed like something was
brewing inside him that he couldn’t acknowledge, much less admit aloud.

Thinking
it might help if he could get away from the estate for a while and feel more
himself again, she suggested at breakfast that she wouldn’t mind doing a little
sightseeing, since this was the last day before the wedding festivities started
in earnest.

She
wanted to see Bath, since she’d always been a big Jane Austen fan. She also
wanted to see Stonehenge, since it wasn’t far from Bath.

Jonathan
agreed to take her, and she was pleased with the success of her plan—especially
since she caught a faint glimpse of relief in his eyes, as if he liked the
idea.

Then
Ben, who’d been reading a newspaper and drinking coffee across the table,
asked, “Were you hoping for it to be romantic, or are others allowed to tag
along?”

Sarah
was surprised by the request, but she wasn’t upset or disappointed. It
definitely wasn’t a romantic outing, and having someone else there would help
her to remember that, lest she get carried away again. Besides, Ben was
obviously desperate to escape from the manor for a while, and she couldn’t help
but take pity on him.

She
liked him more than she’d expected to on first meeting. He was certainly bitter
and isolated, but he was also clever, observant, and surprisingly funny. So she
smiled at him brightly and said she’d be happy for him to join them if Jonathan
didn’t mind.

She
looked over at Jonathan. “Is that all right, honey? Can Ben come?” She wasn’t
quite sure why she added the endearment, but she suspected they weren’t doing a
very good job of acting like a couple, and it seemed like a “honey” moment.

He
blinked at her. “Sure.”

He
didn’t say anything else, but that wasn’t unusual for Jonathan. So Sarah
assumed they were all satisfied with the arrangement.

***

Sarah was glad Ben had
come along after all, since Jonathan was very bad company that day.

She
had no idea what was wrong with him. He wasn’t his normal, matter-of-fact self.
He was curt, grumpy, and occasionally even rude—and it seemed to get worse as
the morning progressed.

Bath
was only a half-hour from the manor, so they got there early. They went through
the Roman baths and the Jane Austen museum. Then they just wandered the quaint
streets, admiring the architecture and stopping for coffee in a charming tea
room.

Sarah
would have had a very good time if Jonathan hadn’t been acting like an ass.

At
least Ben was better company.

He
certainly wasn’t charming or talkative, but Sarah was good with laconic men.
After all, she’d spent three years working with Jonathan. She soon grew to
realize that Ben wasn’t anything like Jonathan. He wasn’t reserved by nature
the way Jonathan was. If he hadn’t been so cynical and scarred, he probably
would have been as charming and charismatic as Andrew. When she managed to get
him talking about books or history, he was really quite interesting and
compelling.

He
had no interest in Jane Austen but then neither did Jonathan. They both
traipsed through the sites with her, though, Ben mocking her enthusiasm and
Jonathan saying nothing at all.

They
decided to have lunch before they headed over to Stonehenge. When Ben got up to
go to the bathroom, Sarah had had enough.

“What
the hell is wrong with you?” she gritted out, keeping her voice low so the
nearby tables couldn’t hear.

Jonathan
had been staring down at his empty plate, but he looked over at her now with
raised eyebrows. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“That’s
obviously a lie. You’ve been an asshole all morning.”

“I
haven’t said anything rude or inappropriate.”

She
gave a huff of indignation. “You haven’t said anything
at all
, and you’ve
flat-out ignored half of what Ben has said. He’s really trying.”

Something
grew cold and still in Jonathan’s eyes—something she couldn’t begin to
understand. “Trying to do what?”

Her
mouth dropped open in astonishment and incomprehension. “Trying to be nice.
He’s your cousin and you barely ever see him.  The least you could do is
meet him halfway. Jonathan, he’s trying to be nice.”

“Is
that what you think?”

The
words were so uncharacteristically clipped that she suddenly understood
something. “Are you angry with
me
?” she asked.

He
just looked at her. Didn’t say anything. And she knew, just from the expression
in his eyes and the tension on his face, that there was something major going
on inside him that he hadn’t even begun to express.

She
wanted to shake it out of him. She was suddenly so angry she could have slapped
him. “Damn it, Jonathan,” she hissed. “You’re the most frustrating man in the
world. If you’re upset about something, you need to say it. I have no idea what
I’ve done, so it’s never going to get better if you don’t tell me.”

She
stared at him, flushed and panting. He just looked back at her. His breathing
had picked up too, and his hand had fisted on his lap, but he gave no other
sign of what was bothering him.

“Why
the hell can’t you say it?” she demanded. “If you’re mad at me, I need to know
why.”

For
just a moment, she thought he was going to tell her—it was like something was
coiled inside him, ready to spring free.

But
then he let out a breath and looked away. “I’m not mad at you, Sarah. You
haven’t done anything wrong.”

She
knew she hadn’t done anything wrong, but she still wanted to know what had
upset him. Gazing at his handsome and now passive face for several seconds, she
realized she wasn’t going to know.

It
was just midday, but he needed to shave again. She could see the dark bristles
on his strong jaw. She wanted to stroke them, to feel them beneath her hand.

She
wanted to hit him and take care of him both. It was a very disorienting
feeling.

“Jonathan?”
she asked thickly.

He
just shook his head.

She
gave up and finished off the sparkling water in her glass. And then she
realized that he was still her boss, and she’d spoken to him in a way that
might be considered inappropriate.

“Sorry
I yelled at you,” she said sheepishly. She hadn’t really raised her voice, but
she’d definitely spoken harshly, more harshly than she ever had before. She
didn’t think he would fire her for something like that, but it would better if
their relationship returned to somewhat professional grounds.

“Don’t
be sorry,” he murmured, heaving himself up to his feet as if it were hard to
make himself move. “I deserved it. I’m going to get more coffee.”

He
went back inside the tearoom just as Ben was coming out. He didn’t greet his
cousin.

When
he returned to the table, Ben slouched down in his chair and gave her a
half-smile.

“Sorry,”
she said, nodding toward where Jonathan had walked into the building. “He’s not
himself today. He’s not a big talker, but he’s usually polite. I don’t know
what’s gotten into him.”

“Don’t
you?” Ben asked, looking amused.

Sarah’s
eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

He
didn’t answer, and once more Sarah had the almost irresistible impulse to shake
an answer out of a close-mouthed asshole.

Instead
of answering, Ben looked from the spot in the air he’d been staring at and met
her eyes without warning. “You’re not really engaged to him, are you?”

She
froze. “What?”

“I’ve
been trying to figure you two out, and there’s no way you’re really engaged.”

“Yes,
we are,” she argued lamely.

“Is
it some sort of plot to trick Lord Uncle into leaving him alone? If so, I
heartily approve.”

Sarah
didn’t reply, just sat tensely, trapped and terrified. If she’d somehow given
them away, if Jonathan would lose everything because of it, then she’d never forgive
herself.

“I’m
not going to tell,” Ben added. “Your secret is safe with me.”

She
studied him closely, desperately, and concluded he was telling the truth. She
relaxed a little. She hadn’t admitted anything, after all, and Ben had no love
or obligation toward his uncle that would compel him to share his suspicions.