“How long will it take you to get ready?”
She sat up. “To do what?”
“Drive to Issaquah.”
“Why would I drive to Issaquah?”
“I want to look at that house up there. You’re coming with me.”
Typical of him not to even ask. “It’s my day off.”
“So?”
“So ask.”
He sighed, and she could almost feel the touch of his breath on her ear. “Chelsea, would you please come with me to Issaquah?”
She swung her feet over the side of the bed. “To see the house I showed you last month?”
“Yes. Is it still on the market?”
“I don’t know. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
He laughed. “’Cause I wanted you to show me more houses.”
That really made no sense.
“Can you be ready in half an hour?”
She thought of her sister and Jules. “Give me an hour and meet me out front.” She didn’t want her sister or Jules to see her take off with the man she worked for, but she needn’t have worried. By the time she got out of the shower, her sister and Jules were gone.
Chelsea dressed strictly for comfort in a blue ankle skirt and a peasant blouse. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and slid her feet into a pair of jeweled flip-flops. As she shut the apartment door behind her, Mark’s Mercedes pulled into the complex, gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. He parked in a space directly in front of Chelsea, and the car door swung open. One big hand grasped the frame and he stood. He moved toward her, back to wearing his usual white T-shirt and blue nylon jogging pants. His steps were a bit slower today.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.” His brows were drawn over his brown eyes like he was angry about something. Not like the time he’d threatened to kill her angry, but angry. Or maybe he was in pain.
“You look—” His mouth on hers cut off her breath in mid-sentence. Like a lot of thing he did to her last night, the kiss was a complete ravishment. Just as she was starting to get into it, he pulled back and said, “Don’t ever sneak out of my house again.”
She touched her moist bottom lip. “I didn’t sneak.”
“You snuck.”
Was he really mad because she’d left in the middle of the night? “Are you upset because I didn’t wake you up before I left?”
“I’m not upset.” He glanced away. “I don’t get upset.”
But he was. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
He looked back at her and let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t get hurt feelings. I’m not a girl.”
That was such a ridiculous statement that she tried and failed not to smile. “I know you’re not a girl. I think you proved it last night.”
One corner of his mouth twitched. “You sore?”
“A little. I haven’t worked out like that in a while.”
He placed his hands on the sides of her face and looked into her eyes. “You’re not some woman I picked up in a bar, Chelsea. You’re not a one-night stand. Don’t sneak out on me.”
If she wasn’t a one-nighter, what was she? “Okay.”
He took her hand and moved to the passenger-side door. “I’m starving. Do you want to eat around here or in Issaquah?”
She turned and looked up at him. At the sun filtering through his hair. She might not be a one-night stand, but she wasn’t his girlfriend either. She wasn’t even in that really nebulous place where all relationships start. She worked for Mark. She couldn’t date him. So, what was she doing getting into his car? “How far to Issaquah?”
“We were just there a few weeks ago.”
“We’ve been to a lot of places in the past few weeks.” She sat in the passenger seat and glanced up at him. “I can’t keep them all straight.” Then again, it was just a sandwich. A sandwich didn’t mean anything. It was five bucks and she could pay that herself.
“It’s about ten minutes.” He shut the door and walked to the other side. “Or we can go with plan B,” he said as he got in across from her. “Go to my house, order a pizza, and eat it in bed.”
She laughed. “Was Issaquah just a ruse?”
“No, but we’re going to end up at my house in bed anyway. Why waste time?” He put the Mercedes into reverse and backed out of the space.
She should probably be offended that he just assumed she’d fall into bed with him again. Maybe she should put up some resistance. Play a little harder to get. Or just resist temptation altogether. “Don’t you want to see the house?”
“I can see it tomorrow with the Realtor.” He looked across his shoulder at her, his eyes and voice a smoky caress. “The choice is yours.”
“Plan B.” She was weak. A sinner with no will-power to resist temptation.
He chuckled. “Good answer. You won’t be sorry.”
And she wasn’t. They ate pizza in the leisure room and watched movies on the enormous television. Of course, he had just about every station.
“Even your television has the premium package,” she said.
He chuckled and took her empty plate. “There’s only one package you need to worry about,” he said as he set the plate on the floor next to the chaise. He pulled her on top of him until her legs straddled his lap. She put her hands on his big chest and looked down into his deep brown eyes.
“I woke up wanting you again.”
“We did it four times.” Sheesh. She hadn’t done it four times in one night since… maybe never.
He ran his warm hands up her thighs. “It wasn’t enough. I want more. I want you.” He brushed his thumbs across the silk center of her panties. Her flesh got hot and tightened in response. “Tell me you want me too.”
She licked her suddenly dry lips and nodded.
He slid one thumb beneath her panties and touched her bare crotch. “Tell me.”
It seemed important to him so she said, “I want you, Mark.” She reached for the ends of her blouse and pulled it over her head.
“Why?” He slid his thumb across her slick core and she moaned out loud.
“Because you’re good at making me want you.” She lowered her face to his. “Because I need you.”
She spent the rest of the afternoon needing him. She slid all over Mark’s hard body, getting hot and sweaty. By the time she left, it was around ten that night, and she fell exhausted into her own bed. Bo had written a note saying that she was spending the night with Jules, and Chelsea didn’t see her sister until they both left for work the next day. By the time she arrived at Mark’s front door, apprehension once again sat heavy in her stomach. It was Monday morning, and the weekend she’d spent with Mark was suddenly real. She’d never wanted to be one of those women who had an affair with the celebrity she worked for, essentially her boss. She never wanted to be one of those women who was left with nothing but a broken heart and no job.
The front door to Mark’s house was unlocked, and he sat in his office at the computer, typing something with two fingers. “That house in Issaquah has been dropped twenty thousand,” he said without looking up. “Isn’t that the one with the walk-in closet you liked?” He hit send and reached for his cane leaning against the desk.
“Yeah. It had all those revolving shoe racks.” What did it matter if she liked it? “Are you okay? I haven’t seen you use your cane in a few days.”
“Some days are better than others.” He stood and walked toward her. “If you’re worried, you can‹orr come upstairs and give me a rubdown.” He pushed one side of her hair behind her ear.
“That isn’t in my job description.” She took a step back before she gave in to temptation and turned her face into his palm. “If I’m going to continue to work for you, we have to have boundaries.” Maybe if there were rules, she wouldn’t become a sad cliche.
He put one hand on his hip. “What boundaries?”
