Page 43 of Teasing Her Grumpy Boss

‘No. It’ll be more often than that because there’s a lot we don’t have in common.’

Amusement rumbled in him, making him forget the moment of panic over thinking of Lucy being around for more of his cases. He liked this challenge, liked her interest, the way her mind worked. ‘I can think of one thing we have in common.’ He slid his hands to her hips, but felt how stiff she stood in the loose embrace. She was too upset for fun right now, but he wanted to restore her peace. He also wanted to know. Maybe he was wrong but he didn’t think so and he couldn’t stand his own curiosity. He wanted to understand her completely. He sent soft strokes down her back with his palms and spoke as gently as he could in her ear. ‘Are you going to tell me about it?’

* * *

Of course not! Lucy’s hackles spiked. She was never going to tell him about the worst night of her life. The night that had damned her self-confidence, cemented her waste of space reputation and left her thinking maybe the world was right and she’d never amount to anything much. She never spoke about it. She never wanted to think about it.

Yet here she was, thinking and thinking and wanting rid of it for once and for all.

Impossible.

For long moments they stood silent. He didn’t ask again. Didn’t press the point. But she knew he was waiting. The gentle rhythm of his hands had a soothing, almost soporific effect. She felt herself slipping, his patience softening her, until resignation replaced tension. This was Daniel—he always got what he wanted. And he was annoyingly solid and dependable. So, okay, she’d talk—a little. It wasn’t really giving in. Besides, she suddenly wanted to. She wanted to lean on his unwavering, imperishable strength, just for a moment. Somehow he did this to her. Somehow she couldn’t seem to deny him anything. But when she went to speak, anxiety knotted. It was little above a whisper.

‘You’ll think I’m even more of an idiot than you already do.’

‘I’m not sure that’s possible.’ His teasing smile tickled. He lifted her chin so he could look into her eyes.

She ducked away, putting her forehead on his chest, not wanting him to see her humiliation. Not wanting his smile to disarm her further. But it was already too late—he only had to hold her like this and she’d do almost anything he asked.

‘I was seventeen. Sneaked out of the school hostel to go clubbing.’

‘Under-age Lucy.’

‘Only just.’ She sighed, unable to stop the flow now she’d started. ‘And I was breaking all the school rules. My best friend from home was in the city for the weekend and we wanted to go dancing. Harmless enough.’

‘What happened?’

‘I’m not really sure. I’d been drinking cola—nothing added, nothing else. There were a couple of guys dancing near. Then things get a little confusing. I didn’t feel so good. I went to go to the bathroom. Everything went kind of fuzzy and this guy asked me if I was okay, said something about getting me some fresh air. She paused for breath. I just…went.’ Her heart hit irregularly as she remembered. She skipped a bit. ‘Sienna, my friend, came out of the club—she said I’d been gone about twenty minutes. She found me as I was being led down the street. She shouted and whoever it was with me ran and I fell.’ She faltered again. ‘The thing is I don’t remember, Daniel. I don’t remember what happened.’

He’d gone very still; she could feel the tenseness in the muscles that lay just beneath his skin. She struggled on, wanting to finish it. She hadn’t spoken about this in so long and it was like breaking through a thick crust to get the words out. ‘Sienna got me back to the school hostel, but I was so sick and my hands were all bloody from landing on the concrete. Matron appeared while I was trying to sneak in the door.’

‘What did she do?’

‘She thought I’d been drinking. Said I was making it up because I was scared of being in trouble for breaking out.’

‘She didn’t get you checked out?’

‘This was Matron. She wasn’t known for being understanding. And it wasn’t the first time I’d been caught sneaking out.’ She grimaced. ‘But the next day I was still sick and she did get the doctor in.’

‘And the doctor?’

‘Believed me.’ She nodded. ‘Got the police to come and interview me.’

‘You couldn’t remember anything?’

‘I remember him being close. Suffocating. And that I couldn’t push him away.’

Daniel stood unnaturally quiet, and she knew he was reining himself in. She pushed on.

‘They asked me all sorts of horrible questions. I was seventeen, Daniel, and despite my appetite for going dancing I was an innocent seventeen and the doctor examined me and it was awful.’

She felt the tension stringing him out.

‘Were you…?’

‘Still innocent.’ She remembered the relief she’d felt at that knowledge. She’d thought she was okay—had thought there would have to be some physical sign, some feeling, but to know for certain had been so good. But the experience of all those bossy, disapproving people drilling her with questions, judging her, made her feel stupid, as if she’d done something far worse than go for a dance. As if somehow she’d deserved it. She’d never liked the people who were in charge, but she had truly hated them from that moment on. And she’d been determined from then on never to be controlled by anyone or anything again.

She’d lost belief in herself, lost her faith in the system, and lost her trust in people. Especially men. She’d built up barriers, using her sarcasm, her attitude, as her protective prickles. Ever since she’d been unwilling to open up, to contemplate much in the way of relationships. She was Lucy, the foolish girl who’d never done particularly well with anything. Why would anyone want more from her?

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