Читать книгу From Boss to Bridegroom - Victoria Pade - Страница 10

R and Colton was on Lucy’s mind. He’d been there when she’d gone to bed Friday night, he’d been there the moment she woke up Saturday morning, he’d been there all weekend and he was still there Monday morning even before her alarm went off, as she lay in bed.

It was very troubling.

Not only couldn’t she stop thinking about him, but her thoughts…

Very troubling, indeed.

She’d had no business thinking about him kissing her. Vividly thinking about him kissing her. No business at all. She had to be out of her mind.

He was her boss. He was a workaholic over-achiever who didn’t even want a single mother working for him, let alone in any more personal role. And she had better not lose sight of it just because he was a fascinating man.

And he was that, she had to admit.

A fascinating man who also happened to be great-looking, more man than she’d ever met and a brilliant attorney—the kind she’d wanted to be herself before fate had stepped in and made that impossible.

Rand Colton was a fascinating man who also happened to be charming and suave and sophisticated, with a good sense of humor and an admirable strength in his convictions.

What are you, his biggest fan? she asked herself.

Maybe he should have hired her to do his public relations work instead of his secretarial work.

Oh, yeah, her thoughts were troubling, all right.

She’d just met him and here she was ticking off enough attributes to make him sound like Superman.

It just wouldn’t do.

But then none of the places her thoughts were leading her would do.

She had enough on her plate taking care of Max and trying to support them both, she reminded herself. She didn’t have time for daydreams like she’d fallen into all weekend. Let alone time for a relationship or a romance—even if a relationship or a romance was what Rand Colton was offering.

And it wasn’t.

So why was she having such a hard time getting him off her mind when she knew better?

Maybe it was a result of deprivation. There was no denying that she was a young, vital woman who hadn’t had a date in almost five years. And not only that, she also spent most of her time in the company of a four-year-old. It wasn’t even unusual for her to go days without so much as speaking to another adult, especially since quitting her job at the Bar Association library a month ago to make this move to Washington.

So she could make an argument for having been deprived of contact with people her own age, along with being deprived of contact with a man.

Given that, it only made sense that a few hours out in the adult world with someone like Rand Colton would go to her head.

But that was all there was to it, she tried to convince herself. A rebound effect of social and interpersonal deprivation.

And when the man she was out in the adult world with was a man like Rand Colton—a man impossible for any woman not to find attractive—of course she was attracted. Of course her mind was doing some natural wandering. Some natural wondering. Some fantasizing.

But fantasizing was harmless enough, she reasoned. As long as she didn’t act on any of it.

And as long as he didn’t know what was going on.

Or did he?

She hoped not. But she had escaped her own kissing ruminations to find him smiling that smile at her, as if he’d been able to read her every thought like closed-captioning at the bottom of a television screen.

No, that was just silly. He could have had any number of things on his mind to cause that smile.

Still, he’d been looking at her, studying her, which meant the smile might have been an indication that he liked what he saw.

Now that was a dangerous possibility, Lucy realized, annoyed with her once-again-wandering thoughts.

Worse than being attracted to him was the idea that he might have been attracted to her.

She didn’t need that.

Oh sure, it would be a nice boost to her ego. But look what the last boost to her ego had gotten her— Max and raising him alone.

Only this time she wouldn’t be able to say she hadn’t been warned about what the man was all about. Rand Colton had made himself perfectly clear. No kids. Period.

“So stop thinking about him,” she whispered to herself in the pre-dawn darkness of her bedroom as if the spoken word would have more impact.

She really had to stop thinking about how much she’d enjoyed working with him—despite how demanding he was and how high were his expectations.

She had to stop thinking about how much she’d enjoyed bantering with him, debating the child issue, having dinner with him.

She had to stop thinking about cobalt-blue eyes and mile-wide shoulders, and thighs that tested the limits of his impeccably tailored trousers and hands that could cup the entire back of her head against the pressure of a kiss….

“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” she said more forcefully.

She honestly did not want to be thinking the things she was thinking. She honestly didn’t want to be attracted to any man. And she honestly didn’t want any boosts to her ego that could make her vulnerable again.

Yes, Max had come out of that vulnerability and she adored her son. No, she wouldn’t change anything that would mean he wasn’t in her life.

But she couldn’t afford to risk anything that might make history repeat itself, either. She couldn’t afford it financially or emotionally.

Max’s father had hurt her terribly. He hurt her all over again every time Max asked why he didn’t have a dad like other kids did.

Lucy would never willingly open up herself or Max to more of the grief that had already been caused by a man whose life was clearly set on one course. A man who had no interest, no inclination, no intention whatsoever of altering that course to accommodate a woman with a child.

“So get your head out of the clouds, Lucy,” she told herself as her alarm went off.

Because getting involved with a man like Rand Colton once was enough. In fact it was absolutely, unequivocally more than enough.

Once again Sadie was taking Max to day care later in the morning and had come to sit with the little boy when it was time for Lucy to leave. But today Lucy made sure to say her goodbyes ahead of time so that the moment Rand’s driver rang her doorbell she was ready. In fact she nearly rushed him in her hurry to get out.

But this morning when Frank opened the rear car door for her it was to an empty back seat.

One glance there and another to the tall, stoic driver prompted an explanation.

“Mr. Colton had an early breakfast meeting. I’ve already taken him into the city. We aren’t to go directly to the office either. You’ll find a list of things he wants you to do today in the pocket behind the passenger’s seat.”

“He didn’t say—” Lucy cut herself off, hating the confused, disappointed tone her voice had taken, as if she and Rand had had some sort of private plans he’d changed without telling her, leaving his driver to do the dirty work. In truth, he owed her no explanation and she should have been grateful he’d still sent his driver for her.

“Fine,” she amended in her best businesslike demeanor before the driver saw what she was really feeling. Then she got into the car as if she’d been born to it and didn’t wait for Frank to close the door before searching for the note Rand had left her.

Not that it was actually a note. There was nothing written on the sheet of paper she unfolded but a to-do list. No warm greeting. No “It slipped my mind Friday night that I had these things for you to do.” No “I’m sorry for not warning you that you’re on your own today.” Nothing but one task after another that she was to take care of.

He doesn’t owe you any more than that. You’re just his secretary, she lectured herself, trying not to let it bother her as she read the list.

1. Pick up dry cleaning

2. Make enclosed bank deposit

3. Go to florist to hand-pick three arrangements and sign cards: Happy Birthday Deidre. Rand/Congratulations on your promotion, Bunny. I had a great time celebrating. Rand / Thanks for a wonderful evening, Veronica. Rand

There were other items on the list but she was too struck to read them in any detail. Instead she reread the first three things, the third several times, feeling her pique rise higher with each reading.

What did he think she was, his handmaiden? His servant? His social secretary? Laundry and bank deposits and flowers to girlfriends. Girlfriends! Plural. Deidre and Bunny and Veronica.

Did he imagine himself to be some kind of playboy potentate? Dishing out orders without so much as a please or thank-you. Forcing her to write his love missives to other women at the same time she was supposed to play wife with his cleaning and banking?

What nerve. What gall. What—

What was she doing getting mad?

Lucy put the brakes on the things going through her mind, on the anger that was gaining momentum.

You’re just his secretary, she reminded herself yet again.

Granted, she hadn’t assumed the job would entail his personal errands. That wasn’t what she had agreed to and it also wasn’t something she would have agreed to. But that wasn’t all that was making her mad. Every time she read that third item on the list and saw those other women’s names, she could feel her blood boil.