Who’s the Boss?

to Mr. Gorgeous Butt’s office.

She knocked.

“Go away.”

She smiled and walked in.

Joe didn’t even waste a scowl on her, but sat hunched over his computer, his fingers whirling away on the keyboard. “Back off or die,” he muttered without much heat. “And you’re late. Again.”

Suddenly he froze. Then he lifted his head and sniffed. “Coffee? Real coffee?”

“As opposed to fake?” she asked sweetly, holding the mug just out of his reach. He stood so he could outreach her.

He’d gone all out today, wearing a light blue shirt instead of his usual black. His jeans, faded from wear, fit his long, lean limbs like a glove. When his fingers brushed hers, shocking her with that ever present electricity that ran between them, she gave over the mug.

Clearly unaffected, he sipped gratefully, then let out a huge sigh. “Thanks.”

She lifted a brow. “Thanks? Thanks? Did you actually thank me? That can’t be-you’re never polite.”

He looked insulted. “I’m plenty polite.”

“Really?”

“Of course I am. I’m diplomatic, too.”

Caitlin pretended to contemplate this while she walked the length of his office. Turning back to him, she asked, “Is it polite to discuss your employees with friends? Is it diplomatic to laugh at them, about them, behind their back?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Is it considered politically correct to resort to name-calling, especially before you even really know that employee?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Does ‘Barbie meets Baywatch’ mean anything to you?”

His mouth opened a bit “Oh,” he said, his face unreadable. “You’ve…met Darla.”

She waited for more, but he said nothing else. “That’s all you have to say?”

He shrugged. “If it matters, you don’t look like a model in the least to me.”

“Gee, thanks,” she said, feeling inexplicably flattened. The first man in the universe who didn’t think she was pretty, and this depressed her?

She was an idiot.

“You have too much…” He waved his hand wildly, gesturing to her body, under the mistaken impression she wanted a detailed analysis of her body type. “Everything. Yeah, that’s it. You have far too much everything.”

“Hmm.” The warning in her voice might have deterred another man, a normal man, but then again, Joe was anything but normal.

“And your hair isn’t like Barbie’s at all,” he offered. “It’s short, for one thing.”

“I see.”

“As for Baywatch…” He shrugged. “I’ve never seen the show, but it’s supposedly got those tight red bathing suits, and I can’t see you in one of those, either.”

“You can’t? Too much ‘everything’ to fit into one of them, huh?”

“Come on, princess, I can’t be telling you anything you don’t already know.”

“I’m not a princess.” Each word was enunciated, and spoken very quietly. “If I were, do you think I’d be working for pennies for you?”

Suddenly wary, he looked at her, as if just realizing she wasn’t taking this in quite the same lighthearted tone he’d meant it. “Caitlin-”

“Set down your coffee, Joe,” she said evenly.

He did. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to act like a princess and have a temper tantrum. I don’t want you to burn yourself.” She swiped at the neat stack of papers on his desk, knocking them to the floor. She reached for another stack, getting into the spirit.

Laughing, he grabbed her hand and held it tight in a fist that might as well have been steel. “What was that for? Wait!”

But she simply switched tactics and tried to evade him. “Don’t…patronize me,” she demanded. “Don’t talk about me behind my back, and don’t…” She let out a huff of steam when he grabbed her, roaring with laughter.

Seeing red, she fought him. “Let me go!” she demanded, puffing and gasping for air as she fought.

With surprising speed and agile strength, he managed to wrap both arms around her and haul her close, pressing her now useless limbs against his own.

At the contact, she went utterly still.

So did Joe.

In the silence, their rough breathing sounded abnormally loud.

And arousing.

“Are we fighting,” he wondered in a suddenly low, husky voice, all traces of humor gone as he stared down into her uplifted face, “or are we playing?”

“I…I don’t know.”

7

“I THOUGHT we were fighting.” Caitlin stared at Joe with her huge, glowing eyes. She wiggled a bit, pressing all those terrific curves to him and causing interesting things to happen to his insides. And outsides. “But now…I’ve lost track.”

Joe had, too. His heart was pounding, his body responding to the tight, erotic hold he had on her. She stared at his mouth, only inches from hers. Then hers opened slightly and he nearly moaned.

“Joe.”

“This is crazy,” he muttered.

“Yeah. Insane.” But she tipped her torso up to his, and her round breasts pressed into his chest.

He was lost.

“Stop me,” he begged, dipping his head down so he could slide his lips over her jaw. He nipped at the corner of her delicious mouth. “Stop me, Caitlin.”

She skimmed her hands beneath his shirt to streak across his bare back, and caught the lobe of his ear between her teeth. His eyes crossed with lust, and the ball of heat he’d been stoking in his gut for days kindled.

“I… don’t think I want to stop you.” She sounded breathless. Confused. Aroused.

“So we’re both crazy. Hell.” And he kissed her.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as the ball of heat erupted into fire. The soft, needy whimper that escaped her undid him, and he dragged her closer, lifting her up against him so that he could get better access to those lips and what lay beyond them. Under his fingers, her skin felt so soft, so warm, so inviting, he became dizzy with it.

So did Caitlin.

Passion.

Desire. She hadn’t realized just one kiss could provoke it. Demand it. He surrounded her with his strength, his hunger. This was what she’d been missing. This. And she wanted more.

Joe stroked his fingers down her neck, discovered the pulse drumming at the base of her throat. Unable to resist, he bent his head to explore it with his mouth. She tasted like heaven, all sweet, melting irresistibility. Bringing his mouth back to hers, he swallowed her gasp as he trailed his fingers across the soft, slick silk of her