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Sleeping With the Boss Page 7
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Will pulled a bottle of champagne out of a bucket on the other side of him. The cork had already been removed. “It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises,” she blurted out without thinking. Most surprises in her life had been bad ones.
“I bet I can change your mind.”
If anyone could, it would be Will Anderson. Claire leaned back against the soft leather and tried to relax, which was hard when all she wanted to do was climb into his lap and give this luscious-smelling man a surprise of her own.
He poured two flutes of champagne and handed her one, then held up the other in toast. “To surprises.”
She reluctantly held hers up, and he clinked his to it.
“What is it you don’t like about surprises?” he asked, swaying slightly as the car came to a stop at a light.
“Um… The surprise in them. Not knowing what’s going to happen. Not being able to plan.” She took a swallow of champagne. It was delicious.
He stared at her a moment and the vehicle took off again. “So, you planned the kiss at your place last night?”
She almost choked on her mouthful of champagne. “Of course not. You know I didn’t.”
He took a sip and studied her with those clear blue eyes, which unnerved her a little bit, causing her heart to flutter. “Then you didn’t like it?” He grinned. “You sure acted like you did.”
Her face heated as the memory of them up against her door last night played through her mind. “Of course I did. That’s not what I meant.”
“Admit defeat, Miss Maddox. You just discovered that you do, indeed, like surprises. And you’ll like where I’m taking you tonight.”
Oh dang. No doubt she would. She clamped her legs together to quell the sudden sensation shooting through her.
He flinched when his phone rang. After slipping it from his pocket, he stared at the screen and scowled.
She fought back a laugh. “‘Smooth Operator’?”
“Chance sets my ringtones because he thinks he’s funny. That’s Michael’s.”
“What’s Chance’s?”
“His is ‘Kung Fu Fighting’ because of his fascination with martial arts. But we won’t be hearing any more ringtones tonight.” He punched the ignore button and shoved the phone into a leather pocket on the door.
No doubt she and Chance would get along great. Too bad she was leaving. “You said you’d take Michael’s call.”
“I certainly did, but not now. Whatever he has to say can wait until after dinner.”
She loved the way this man made her feel like she was his top priority. Relaxing back against the soft leather, her body hummed with anticipation for what the rest of their date held.
…
The sun was lower in the sky, making the interior of the limo seem like a private cocoon. Will wished they were on a cross-country trip instead of a short drive. He wanted to get to know this woman. To learn everything about her from her childhood, to her dreams, to the noises she made in bed. “Tell me about yourself, Claire.”
She angled slightly to face him. “Well, you pretty much know what there is to know. I was raised by my grandparents, who died recently. I got a master’s degree in history. I’m going to Egypt in two weeks.”
Egypt. He couldn’t think of a place he’d rather not visit. After spending years in the desert, it would be like a trip to hell. He’d never set foot in a desert again. He could say that with confidence now that he’d been discharged. He was done with sand forever.
“Then after a month or so of seeing that part of the world to familiarize myself with it, I’m going to intern at the Cairo Museum.”
“So, a long-term thing, then?”
“I hope so.”
And he’d never see her again, which bothered him more than it should considering he’d sworn off relationships. Nope. Not going there. Change the topic. She’d talked about her grandparents, but never her parents. “What happened to your mom and dad?”
She sighed and stared up at the ceiling. “Teen pregnancy happened. My mom never revealed who the father was…he probably never even knew.” Her expression clouded. “I never knew her. She took off pretty soon after I was born, so I was raised by Sissy and Grandpa.”
“I’m sorry,” Will said, brushing her hair off her shoulder. He loved the way it felt between his fingers.
“She left a letter, though. I kept it in a box by my bed and I used to read it every day from the time I was four.”
He stayed very still, waiting for her to order her thoughts.
She stared out the window at darkness. “She said that that one day, she’d come back for me and we’d go see the pyramids.” Her eyes watered, but she didn’t cry. “She died of a drug overdose in California when I was six. I didn’t know until I found the newspaper clipping when I was going through Sissy’s things a couple of years ago—after she got so sick.”
Images of a little girl with blond curls waiting by the window for a mother who would never come flashed in his head and it felt like his chest had caved in on itself. “Why didn’t your grandparents tell you?”
Her slight smile was wistful, as if she were far away. “Sissy was always a big believer in hope. Without hope, you had nothing. She didn’t want to take it from me.”
He ran his hand up and down her arm. “She should have told you the truth.”
She took his hand in hers. “No. Then I would’ve had nothing to look forward to. For as long as I can remember, my Grandpa was sick, and Sissy never left the place, which put a rain cloud over my head as a kid. Then, right as I got old enough to spread my wings a little, she got sick, too, which made me the sole caregiver. Honestly, there were times when that letter was all that kept me going—the dream of traveling to Egypt like my mother had with my grandparents when she was a girl. It made me who I am. It’s why I got so into ancient cultures. It’s why I got into an Ivy League school. It might have actually saved me, Will. Sometimes it’s the difficult stuff that makes us better.”
“Maybe you’re right.” He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed the inside of her palm.
She looked out the window and nothing was moving. Will’s hot breath across her wrist made her squirm and he chuckled. “We’ve stopped,” she said.
“I hadn’t noticed,” he replied, releasing her hand, then pushing the intercom button to speak with the driver. “Please inform T.J. we’re here and will be coming aboard.”
“Yes, sir,” Jacob’s voice answered.
Aboard. Oh, great. A boat. The only boats she’d ever been on were ferries, and she’d refused to get near the edge.
“Ready for your surprise?” he asked, as Jacob opened the door.
“No.”
He laughed, but was the perfect gentleman, of course, as they exited the limo and walked to a long wooden pier at a quaint harbor that looked like something right out of a movie.
The water gently lapped the pilings as they made their way past sailboats and motorboats of all sizes. As they neared the end of the walkway, it dawned on her that the sleek, enormous vessel at the end was their destination.
When they got up close, she realized there were several people wearing uniforms on board. This was not at all what she’d expected. Surprise. “Take me out to dinner, huh?”
“Mr. Anderson! Welcome aboard,” a man called from the deck above them.
Will gestured for her to lead the way up the ramp leading to a door in the side of the boat, or ship, or whatever it was. “Careful,” he whispered. “This has very high Claire-ism potential.”
No kidding. The whole prospect of a moving object in the water was fraught with peril. She climbed the ramp and entered a chic, modern cabin. Before she had a chance to really take a look around, the guy from the deck entered the cabin behind them.
“Will. So good to see you.” The man, who was much smaller than Will, extended his hand.
Will shook it vigorously. “T.J. Hooper, this is Claire Maddox. Claire, T.J. is the captain of the Linda IV. He has captained
every one of the Lindas, in fact.”
T.J. took her hand and shook it briefly. “Been with the Andersons since I was a teenager. Known Willy since he was in diapers.” His attention went back to Will. “I was told you had an eleven o’clock return this evening. No sunrise then?”
“Sadly, no.”
“I’m glad to see you out again, even if it’s for a quickie.” He winked. “Well, as you can see, we’re all ready for you.” He gestured to a small, elegant table set for two, complete with silver candlesticks in the middle of the cabin. “I guess I’ll go up and get us under way.” He nodded to Claire. “Nice to meet you, Miss Maddox.”
He extended his hand again. When Will took it, the older man pulled him into an embrace. “I’m happy to see you again. And the entire crew of the Linda IV is glad, too. Especially Nancy. She can’t wait to see you.”
“Thanks,” Will said. “It’s good to be back on board. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to show off for my guest.” He winked, then added, “Show off the ship, I mean.”
He held out his hand and led her on a tour of the Linda IV, which he explained was named after his mother and not nearly as large as the Lindas II and III had been. For Claire, it was plenty big and intimidating. She swallowed the lump in her throat and focused on the polished wood of the deck, rather than the water that they were cutting through at a million miles an hour.
“You seem uncomfortable,” Will observed as they climbed back down to the main deck.
The climb, in combination with the movement of the vessel, had her coming unglued. She really wanted to sit on the stairs and scoot down on her butt like a toddler. “Not a big fan of boats.”
“You’ll have to be on lots of them if you plan to travel the world.”
“The end result is worth it, so I’ll deal.”
As sure-footed as a cat, he stepped off the stairs and strode to the railing right at the front and held out his hand. “Come join me.”
“I’d rather not.” She parked her butt on the bottom stair. No way was she doing the aquatic equivalent of a wing walk today. Nope. A potential full ten on the Claire-ism-O-Meter.
He kept his hand out and arched a brow. “Please.”
“Forget it.”
His features softened, which of course made her resolve do the same. “Join me.” He waited a moment, then added, “The end result will be worth it.”
Oh, great. The big, hot man had just thrown her own words back at her. Figures. Well, she had made a resolution to live life to the fullest, which is why she was here in the first place. With teeny-tiny baby steps, heart scampering around in her rib cage like a startled rabbit, she shuffled to where he stood. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she grasped the railing and closed her eyes. Fast. The boat was going so fast.
“Look over the water, Claire. It’s beautiful.” He lowered his lips to her ear. “Like you.”
Swallowing hard, she opened her eyes and lifted her head, and then gasped. It was beautiful. The setting sun hovered low over the water, causing shards of light to bounce across the surface like dancing stars.
He tightened his hold around her shoulders, and she relaxed against him. Goose bumps rose on her arms as he brushed his lips against her ear as he spoke. “When I was a little boy, I used to stand here on the Linda II and pretend I was a Viking traveling to conquer distant lands. Sometimes, I was a pirate.”
Leaning down, he gave her a warm, lingering kiss, then pulled her against him, their bodies melting together and his minty scent filling her head.
Smoothly, the boat slowed almost to a stop, but Will didn’t loosen his embrace.
“We’re slowing down.”
Arms still wrapped around her, his breathing was deep and even. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Is something wrong? Are we stranded or something?”
He chuckled and relaxed his hold. “No. It means it’s time to go below for dinner.”
She sighed with relief and melted against him again.
“Are you hungry?”
Yeah, she was. She was hungry for more time with this man who seemed too good to be real. “Starving.”
…
In the candlelight, Will’s eyes looked like they glowed from inside. Gold waves undulated across his skin, making him appear surreal.
A middle-aged woman, dressed all in black with a long white apron, took away their salad plates and refilled their wineglasses with calm efficiency.
“Thank you, Nancy,” Will said.
She smiled. “It’s good to see you again, sir.”
“Two years is too long.”
“Two and a half,” she corrected, “and it is indeed.”
He took a sip of wine and watched her disappear through two metal swinging doors.
“Two and a half years?”
“Since I’ve been on board. The last time I was here was with my brothers before my last deployment. Like T.J., Nancy’s been with us a long time. I think she must have told the three of us to stay away from the edge of the boat and the engine room a million times growing up.”
She tried to picture him as a small boy playing on the deck of a yacht. What an odd life for a child. “What was that like for you?”
His brow furrowed.
“Growing up like this.” She gestured with open palms to the sleek cabin.
“You mean growing up with money? Being rich is fantastic, as you know yourself.”
Nancy returned and slipped a fish course in front of each of them and then disappeared again.
“I didn’t grow up rich. Not at all,” she said.
He cut off a bite of fish. “You live in one of the most expensive parts of the city.”
“Grandpa made a ton of money in oil. They lived the high life for a while. Traveled, bought beautiful things—all before I was born. When the oil crisis happened in the eighties, they were hit hard. Then he got sick. They owned the apartment outright by then and had invested enough to make fees and taxes. We didn’t struggle, but we didn’t ride around in limousines. In fact, the ride here was the first time I’ve ever been in one.”
His face was unreadable as he chewed, with the exception of the slight lift of one eyebrow. She was pretty sure she had surprised him.
“Besides, if I were rich, I wouldn’t be working a temp job at your company.”
He set his fork down, but said nothing.
“But I’m glad,” she continued. “Because that’s why I’m sitting here with you right now.” She worried that she may have gotten overly mushy, but his features softened and she relaxed a bit.
“I’m glad, too,” he said, reaching across the table to take her hand.
What would it be like if things were different? If they had met at another time when she wasn’t leaving in two weeks? He ran his thumb over her knuckles and her body grew warm. God, only last week it seemed like forever before she could shake off her old life. Now two weeks seemed like the blink of an eye.
She marveled again at her good luck. Who’d have ever thought a Claire-ism would result in a date with the hottest man she’d ever laid eyes on? Again, the situation struck her as odd. Why would a man like Will Anderson, who could have everything and anyone, be interested in her?
She pulled her hand from his and cut off a bit of fish with her fork. “So, you know the basics of my family. What about yours? I’ve met your brothers, but have never seen your parents.”
He took a bite of asparagus, followed by a sip of wine. “Mom and Dad retired almost three years ago, turning the business over to Michael, Chance, and me. They made it official right before my second deployment. I came back to find everything running smoothly at the office. Michael said we needed someone to up our security, and I was the perfect man for the job because of my recon experience in Afghanistan.”
“What exactly did you do over there?”
“My team analyzed insurgent strongholds and cities to determine the best strategies to take out targets.”
“Remotely?”
>
“Yes. By satellite and computer. And also on the ground.”
God. Did he infiltrate the bad guys’ lairs and stuff? “Like a spy, sort of.”
“Loosely.”
He turned his attention to his food. Subject closed. Okay. Well, at least she had a timeline now. He’d inherited his part of the company, only to leave for Afghanistan for the second time. When he returned, he put his soldier/spy training to use by setting up security for Anderson Auctions. That made sense.
“You said you work from your home, usually?”
He nodded. “There’s a lot of data to analyze for all the different properties and interests. Security managers send me information when necessary. I do background checks on businesses we deal with on large-scale transactions, in addition to monitoring on all sights. Dad had invested and dabbled in lots of different things, so I’ve been catching up on all of that. The auction house is simply the most lucrative and visible single endeavor of Anderson Enterprises. Since Michael has taken over, it has almost doubled its profits. Dad did it for fun. Michael does it to win.”
She’d only seen Michael Anderson a few times. She’d never actually met him, but he was almost as handsome as Will. Though slightly shorter, and not as broad in the shoulders, his eyes were more intense. Everything about him was intense. A kind of frenetic energy seemed to flow in his wake, and it was unnerving. “He strikes me as the kind of guy who does everything to win.”
He cut off another bite of his fish. “Everything but cheat. Michael has a rigid set of principles and rules. He never deviates.”
“Is he married?”
Will choked back a laugh, swallowed hard, and took a chug of his wine. He wiped his mouth with the linen napkin, still chuckling. “God, no. He probably never will. He dates a lot. I mean, a lot, but nothing serious. Nobody on earth will ever be able to live up to his expectations. Michael is a man whose life is calculated and organized to the minute detail. Even his sock drawer is organized in color order.”
She smiled. “Sounds like he needs someone to disrupt his order a little bit.”
“Well, let me get out of town before that happens.” He finished off the rest of his fish. “Now, Chance is another story.”