The Boss's Fake Fiancee Read online

  Garth groaned and dropped his mouth to hers. He claimed her with a rough kiss. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

  Melissa jerked his shirt from his pants. With a daring that shocked even her, she tugged it over his head. He pulled it the rest of the way off and threw it on the floor. She sighed with pleasure at the sight of him, his skin tawny in the reflection of the candlelight.

  “Depends,” she said, her hands busily unbuckling his belt. “Can you take care of business after you’re gone?”

  “Now that’s a question I can truly say I’ve never been asked.” He pushed her hands aside and pulled off her shirt, then deftly unfastened her bra. When the silky garment fell onto the floor, he made a sound that could only be described as a growl, and leaned forward to close his mouth around one sharply peaked nipple.

  Melissa sucked in a breath at the sensation. “Never mind,” she squeaked. “I want you alive.”

  He tugged again, and, mesmerized, Melissa found herself slipping out of her jeans, and then her pink bikinis. She had a moment of sudden insecurity when she stood naked before him, and his eyes traveled up and down the length of her body.

  She was too thin, too small, too…

  “Gorgeous.” He stared at her intently, his gaze bringing a wave of heat everywhere it touched. “Absolutely stunning. Just like I knew you would be.”

  Her nerves fell away. He scooped her against him, and her flesh burned where their bodies made contact. His hands started at her waist, slid up and along her ribs, and finally rested at her breasts.

  “Melissa, are you sure you want this? A one-night stand?” Garth’s voice was as taut as the muscles that defined his chest and abdomen. “If not, tell me now.”

  “Damn it, man, am I being too subtle? I’m just coming out of a relationship with a first-class asshole. The last thing I want is to get back into the dating game. Can’t we just have sex and call it good?”

  He teased her nipples between his thumb and forefingers. “Now that’s one female demand I think I can meet.”

  A moment later, Melissa found herself lying on the soft rug in front of the fireplace. She stared up as Garth removed the rest of his clothes.

  “Nicely done,” she murmured, as he lowered himself next to her. The entire scenario had her feeling like an actress in a movie. Someone sophisticated and sensual who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it.

  Someone very different from Melissa Bencher.

  “Thank you.” With casual strength, Garth pinned her hands over her head. He held her captive while trailing his other hand down the length of her body. His hand came to rest at her mound and covered it, pressing gently with the heel of his hand until she bucked against him. Then he licked a slow circle around her nipple. Even when he let go of her hands, Melissa lay captive to his touch.

  He nibbled lightly on one rosy peak and she jerked under him. He moved his thumb and forefinger to the other nipple while he continued to torment the first with his mouth. When he gently pinched, she moaned.

  “I don’t like to guess,” he said softly. “So you’ll have to tell me. Do you like that?”

  She nodded, though she suspected her body was already telling him everything he needed to know. “Mmmm,” she breathed.

  “Melissa.” His voice was a warning. Swiftly, he closed his mouth over her nipple, using the subtle pressure of his lips and teeth to bring her just to the edge of pain, and then releasing her. “Tell me.”

  “Oh yes!” she cried. “Yes!”

  He licked a slow path around the outside of her nipple before closing his teeth around the delicate peak once again. His hand found the other peak, and he pinched her with just enough force to make Melissa catch her breath. “Do you want it soft, or hard?”

  Melissa had never, ever been asked such a thing before, and it felt wicked and sexy and thrilling to think about her answer. She swallowed her fear. Tonight, she would try things Garth’s way. Honest. Spoken.

  “Hard.” Her voice came in a soft, breathy whisper. “Pinch me like that. Just like that.”

  He complied, tormenting her with his mouth and fingers, and each time she felt that surge of pleasure mixed with a hint of pain, she danced closer to ecstasy. He waited until she was mewling and arching beneath him before he slid one finger between her nether lips. He trailed a path along her clitoris, repeatedly rubbing against the tiny nub with a butterfly caress. Then he moved lower.

  “How about this?” he asked. He drew his finger back to tease the soft flesh, and then pushed slowly inside her.

  Melissa’s head flipped back and forth as the need within her body rose. She wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so wild and abandoned. “Yes,” she whispered. With a boldness she barely knew she had, she placed his hand right over the center of her need. “Right there. Touch me there.”

  When she balanced right on the edge of fulfillment and knew whatever small amount of control she was exerting was almost gone, she forced her honeyed limbs to reach out and pull him on top of her. “I want you,” she said, unable to think clearly, let alone speak. “With me. Inside of me.”

  She watched in a daze as he reached over to his discarded pants and withdrew a small foil package from his wallet. After slipping on the condom, he rested his body between her legs. He looked down into her eyes then, and kissed her on the lips. He held his body above hers, the hard edges of his hips and groin pinning her in place.

  “You’ll come with me,” he ordered, and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to obey him. To let her body soar as he slowly filled her with his length and began to move. A slow thrust in and then out, he rubbed his body along the length of her and then entered her again. Melissa cried out.

  Her legs rose of their own accord and locked around him. He moved inside of her, faster now, and her body’s driving need took over. Melissa gave up control, forgot about waiting or timing, and surrendered to desire.

  She exploded with perfect pleasure, dimly aware when he did the same a moment later. Shuddering, she held Garth tightly around the shoulders, riding along with him as they touched paradise.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The next morning, clad in an oversized T-shirt and light flannel pajama pants, Melissa wandered into the living room, squinting in the morning sun. She’d been disappointed to find Garth gone when she woke up, but also relieved to have the chance to brush her teeth and her hair before she saw him again.

  No reason to be nervous. You just had sex—people do it all the time.

  Despite her internal warning, her heart still skipped when she saw him sitting in his favorite chair, busily typing on his laptop. He had a dark shadow on his jaw and his hair was tousled with sleep. She waited for him to say something, but he did not, so she kept walking into the kitchen.

  Don’t be offended. He’s finishing up an email.

  But she couldn’t help but be irritated a moment later, when she realized there was only a splash of coffee left in the pot, not nearly enough for her to have an entire cup.

  “Typical man,” she muttered.

  Melissa started a fresh pot of coffee. The kitchen window looked out onto the backyard, and she stared at the white-frosted tips on the individual blades of grass while the coffee burbled into the pot.

  Nothing changed last night. You didn’t fall in love, and neither did he.

  But couldn’t he at least wave at her when she entered the room?

  She pulled the loaf of bread they’d bought the day before from its paper bag and then rifled through the drawers until she found a serrated knife.

  Sure, he turned you into a quivering mass of jelly, and then did it again halfway through the night. Whatever. You were sex-starved. He probably isn’t as good as you imagined.

  No one is.

  She realized she was waiting for him to come in the room and acknowledge her. But that was stupid. She was acting like the same, silly girl who’d fallen for Mark Venshiner.

  Not this time.

  Sh
e pulled the half-carton of eggs they’d bought the day before from the fridge and rinsed an old cast-iron skillet. She added a pad of butter and set the skillet on the electric stove, waiting for it to grow hot, becoming more determined with every passing second to ignore Garth just as squarely as he was ignoring her.

  They’d had a one-night stand, she reminded herself. They were not on their way to a glorious affair, no matter how it might have felt. No matter that, after making love downstairs, they’d taken a slow, hot shower together, and then ended up tangled in each other’s arms in Garth’s bed. After waking her at two in the morning for a second round, Garth had passed out while Melissa stared at his sleeping form, mystified that so much passion could lurk inside such a quiet, controlled man. Still, there had been no exchange of tender words and no false promises. Melissa didn’t expect there to be. He had been perfectly clear about what would follow and she’d jumped in bed with him willingly.

  Hell, she’d encouraged it.

  But he had pulled her against him, spoon fashion, as they fell asleep. And the arm that had fallen across her seemed so…possessive. It was hard to believe the entire encounter truly meant nothing to him.

  The butter began to sizzle, and she added two eggs. While the eggs cooked, she put a slice of bread into a stainless steel toaster on the counter.

  A few minutes later, she put the finishing touches on a beautiful breakfast for one and walked out of the kitchen. She did not acknowledge Garth as she sat down at the dining room table.

  He might have taken her coffee, but she was damned if she was cooking for him, too.

  He looked up from his computer as her fork clinked on the plate. “Breakfast time?” he said.

  She took a slow sip of her rich, sweet coffee. “It is for me,” she replied.

  Garth wandered into the kitchen and emerged with a slightly confused look. “Is there another plate somewhere?”

  “No.”

  He stared at her for a second and then blinked. “I see.”

  She turned away and stared out the window.

  See? Two can play the cold-shoulder game.

  “I probably should swing through downtown today,” he said. “Nan wants me to say hello to some people.”

  “Whatever. You’re the boss.”

  He paused. “I take it you’re mad?”

  “What makes you think that?” She felt his eyes boring into her back, but refused to look away from the window.

  “Lucky guess.” He sighed audibly. “This is about last night, isn’t it? You’re regretting it.”

  “I wasn’t regretting it. Until now.”

  “I told you that this was never going to go anywhere. I thought you understood that.”

  “I did,” she snapped, unable to stop herself from spinning around on her chair. “I did understand that. I didn’t understand ignoring my presence and treating me like a servant was part of the bargain.”

  Garth’s mouth dropped open. “What are you taking about?”

  “You took all the coffee,” she accused.

  He looked confused. “You’re mad because I drank the coffee? I didn’t know when you’d be up. I figured you’d want it freshly made.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Nice try. I walked by and you didn’t even bother to say good morning.”

  “That’s why you’re mad?”

  “I’m not your maid or your chef. I don’t make you coffee and I don’t cook you breakfast. And you could at least spare a glance and give me a hello when I walk into the room!”

  Garth closed his eyes. A look of pain danced across his face. When he opened his eyes again, he looked cool and controlled. “I got up early to get some work done on the ThinkSpeak proposal for Orelian. I didn’t notice you come in. I get absorbed when I’m working and tend to lost track of what’s going on around me.”

  Melissa recalled, with a tiny feeling of alarm, that Garth was notorious around the office for exactly that sort of behavior. As a joke, someone had gotten his assistant an air horn years before, so she could get his attention when he was working on a project.

  “You assumed I’d make you breakfast,” she said.

  “You said you would last night. Because I made dinner.”

  “Oh.” She winced. “Forgot about that.”

  “This, Melissa,” Garth said, “is why I do not enter into relationships. And precisely the reason I suspected last night would be a terrible mistake.”

  Her eyes jerked up to meet his. “What? What do you mean?”

  “I make people angry. I particularly make women angry. I pay attention to the wrong things, and don’t notice the important ones.”

  An uneasy sensation entered Melissa’s stomach at his flat, emotionless tone. “Don’t be silly. I jumped to conclusions. You might have noticed that I tend to do that. I thought you were regretting last night and I was disappointed. I’m sorry.”

  Garth rubbed his hands over his face. “No, the fault is clearly mine, and that’s my point. I never say the right thing.” He started to say something else, but then seemed to decide against it. He thrust his hands into his pockets and turned away. “Let’s just forget this and head back to the city.”

  Melissa stared at his back, her mind spinning as she tried to process everything that Garth had just said. “No,” she said. Her voice felt suddenly thick, and she cleared her throat and said it again, more clearly. “We aren’t leaving it like that. I messed up, not you.” She thought about what he had said the night before, when they were making love.

  I don’t like to guess.

  Something clicked and she blinked rapidly as her picture of Garth reassembled, like a kaleidoscope she’d twisted and then held up to the light.

  “Let’s rewind,” she said. “And I’ll go first. I don’t regret for a moment what happened last night.”

  Garth turned back around, slowly. “I’m not sure it matters.”

  She scowled. “The hell it doesn’t. I’m not looking for a poet, or a mind reader. I’m not even looking for a boyfriend. I’m engaged twice over—I can’t take any more men in my life.” He didn’t laugh, but she saw his shoulders relax, and his hard expression soften. “Last night was great—no, it was amazing. How could I regret that? When you didn’t say anything to me this morning, well…I freaked out a little. I guess I sort of expect men to be jerks, after Mark, and I decided to get mad instead of being hurt.”

  Garth studied her face, as if trying to gauge her sincerity. “I didn’t notice you come in. I was trying to get as much work done as I could this morning so we could go back upstairs for a few hours before heading out for the day.”

  “Upstairs?” Melissa repeated. A mix of relief and desire flooded her skin with warmth.

  “I’m not going to dress this up,” Garth said. “I don’t do relationships. But I had a hell of a time last night, too. And I was hoping we might be able to do it a few more times. Maybe even today.”

  “Really?” A smile broke across her face, and her heart flipped in her chest.

  “Really.” He reached out and pulled her to her feet. “But you can’t expect any more from me. I will do my best not to be an asshole, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to succeed.”

  “Then I will do my best to demand nothing more from you than mind-bogglingly good sex.”

  He leaned forward and gave her a long, smoldering kiss. “I think we’ve got a deal.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After a brief detour in the sagging bed Garth had used for almost two decades, Melissa cooked breakfast and made a fresh pot of coffee for them to share. Garth mentioned that he loved the ocean, so they decided to visit Hammonasset Beach before they headed back to town.

  After the morning’s drama, it took some time to rebuild the previous day’s sense of comfort, but slowly, as they walked along the sand, with the wind whipping at her face and sending her hair spinning, Garth’s wry, subtle humor reemerged. He still did not smile often, but when he did, it was like watching the sun crest ov
er the horizon—a tiny golden glow preceded by a flash of brilliant light.

  Though he was not inclined to share much of his own emotional state, Garth proved an excellent listener, subtly drawing Melissa out about her relationship with Mark, her experience as one of the few women in the technology field, and her family. Much to her surprise, she even found herself talking about Brit; the way that she’d always idolized him, and how she worried now about how he’d react when he heard the news about her and Garth.

  “He’ll probably just add it to the list of the ways I’ve screwed up,” she said, trying to sound lighthearted.

  “You know, he’s incredibly proud of you,” Garth replied, somewhat unexpectedly.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Your brother thinks you’re a genius. You should have seen the letter he wrote on your behalf.”

  She froze. “What letter?”

  “When he sent me your resume, he included a letter he’d written. You would have thought from reading it that you were Albert Einstein and Marie Curie put together. He even promised to personally guarantee any work you did for me.”

  “Guarantee?” Her heart sank. “As in, he tried to buy me a job?”

  Garth shook his head. “No, it wasn’t like that. He just wanted me to know he believed 100 percent in you, and what you were capable of doing.”

  Melissa kicked at the wet sand as a fist tightened around her throat. She’d known her brother had sent a letter on her behalf, but she’d figured it was just the usual cover letter. It had never occurred to her that he might have tried something more personal.

  “Of course I know he’s proud of me,” she said, forcing out the words.

  The hollow feeling in her chest said something different.

  Brit worked longer and harder than anyone she’d ever met. His expectations for himself were astronomical. Why would his expectations of her be any less?

  She’d left home to live with a man who cheated on her, and in the process lost most of her self-esteem and pride. When she’d come back to New York, Brit had immediately started pushing her to get a job, when she could barely get herself out of bed. And now she might have lost the very job he’d helped her to get.