Page 33 of Defying Her Arrogant Boss

‘I’ll be home as soon as I can.’ He rang off.

Home.

She slowly put the phone back on its cradle and stood staring at it for long moments. Where was home? She had been travelling for almost two years loving every moment. But her time was up. Her ticket already booked. She had friends she hadn’t seen in all that time already planning lunch dates. She was looking forward to it, damn it. The old saying popped into her head, mocking her. ‘Home is where the heart is.’ Tears sprang at her eyes. She knew just where her heart was—in trouble.

She leaned against the bench for support as she began to realise the full consequences of what she had done. She’d tried to stay away from him because she knew how dangerous office affairs could be. But she’d succumbed to the attraction in the privacy of his home. And in doing so she’d opened herself up to a far greater hurt. Even if she did think for a moment, just for a moment, that he was as crazy about her as she was for him, it still wasn’t going to work because her flight was booked. She was going to have to say goodbye to him. And as hard as that would be it would only get worse the more time she spent with him now. Saying goodbye sooner would be better than later.

Her mother had suffered years of loneliness and heartache after the death of her lover, Lissa’s father. He’d died when Lissa was only a tiny life growing inside her and her mother had been little more than a child herself at the time. To lose a lover, your true love, be it through death or geographical circumstance, was devastating.

The force of her emotion terrified her and she knew in her bones it was only going to deepen further. She’d really fallen in love with him. He had his career here, his family, his life. Even if he wanted to she wouldn’t let him give that up. Besides, this was just an affair for him. Who was to say it was anything more than a weekend’s ‘distraction’?

Doubts raced at her, scurrying through her mind, making her feel fear, making her want to run. She tried to fight it.

She went back through to the lounge and stared half-heartedly at the bookcase. She needed something to read for a while. Daytime TV depressed her and if she went back to bed now she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep tonight. Then again, maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea—a night of insomnia with Rory for company? Bad idea. She shook herself; she had to get this under control.

She stared at the spines of the books, uninspired. And then she saw the photo album on the bottom shelf. Guiltily, knowing she shouldn’t but unable to stop, she pulled it towards her and opened it. Rory the gorgeous as a baby, aged two, and onwards till it ended withhimlooking about sixteen. She turned the pages, entranced at the images of him. Amazed that the features she adored had been so noticeable from such a young age. Those vivid green eyes, and thick dark hair. She traced the development of his strong male physique. No boy should have shoulders so broad. She half laughed at the awful clothing he’d worn as a young teenager, knowing she’d been as guilty of the same crime. She studied the pictures of him with his parents and sister. They looked a close family. A happy family. It was obvious they still were—devoted Uncle Rory. She sighed and looked across at the fire, gloomily pushing away the spark of envy. They were poles apart. How could they ever have a future together when their pasts were so different? She’d had only her mother, her father dying before she was born, her grandparents had rejected both her mother and her. After her mother had been killed in an accident she’d been alone and naive and fallen for Grant. She seemed destined to make this kind of mistake.

Game over.

She paced, ready for him. She’d been wearing a groove in the rug half the afternoon, going stir crazy. Getting incredibly anxious about the mess she’d got herself into with her uninhibited indulgence. She needed to get outside. Most of all, she needed to get away from him. She’d woken from the dream and those alarm bells were ringing non-stop. Nothing she could do would silence them now. It was only a matter of time before he hurt her, intentionally or not. Sure, she’d just had a weekend of the best sex of her life and she loved the way he could make her laugh, but it wasn’t going to last and she needed to get out now before she ended up totally wrecked. She had to say thanks, goodbye and move on. Back to work, back to platonic. For a moment she dreaded his reaction—would he turn on her as Grant had? Surely not. But she had a goodbye planned, one she was determined to enjoy.

The key sounded in the lock and she marched over to meet him. She watched as he entered and with bittersweet pleasure saw the desire already evident in his face. It grew as he looked her over. She had dressed in a pair of his boxers and a shirt, unbuttoned to the waist. She saw the gleam of anticipation in his eyes.

‘Come and sit on the sofa,’ she invited softly. ‘You must be tired from a hard day.’

‘Tired is the last thing I’m feeling,’ he replied, but complied anyway, taking a seat in the middle of the sofa.

She looked down at him, a soft smile curving her lips. She watched as an answering smile spread across his features. His eyes twinkled. She loved that lusty, expectant look he got. She loved it that he was hot for her the minute she looked at him. His hand went to loosen his tie.

‘Uh-uh,’ she said, shaking her head, determined to keep it light, keep it fun.

He stilled and his grin turned wicked.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘You’re the boss, huh?’

‘Damn straight,’ she replied. He certainly was a quick learner, but then she knew that already.

With a fluid movement she peeled off the boxers she was wearing. She moved forward and straddled him on the sofa, her knees comfortable in the soft cushions on either side of him. He rested his head back and watched her as she undid his belt and trousers, pulling them aside just enough to free him.

‘You’re every fantasy I’ve ever had, you know that?’ he muttered.

She smiled.

‘Only more,’ he added reverently. ‘Much more.’

She touched her mouth to his, protecting herself from those powerful eyes and tempting words.

He was ready and she’d been ready for hours. There didn’t seem much point in mucking around. She bent forward and feathered kisses along his jaw.

‘I’m going home tonight,’ she whispered as her hands slid down, holding him where she wanted him.

His head jerked up. She stopped him replying by placing a finger on his lips and squirming her hips down on him hard. She felt him gasp as she took him into her all the way. Then she leant forward and kissed him ruthlessly. She couldn’t block the emotion: desperation and sorrow and all her desire. She held nothing back. Then passion increased and it flooded out the heartache. She longed to give everything to him but she couldn’t. All the while her hips moved sinuously against him with a slow and crazy rhythm. When she freed him from the kiss he was panting, his hands hard on her hips trying to control the tempo and pull her even closer.

She tossed her head back. ‘I’ll stop right now if you don’t agree.’

Who was she kidding? She couldn’t stop now if she tried, her hips seemed to have taken on a life of their own and she desperately rode him harder. He knew. He bucked upwards and she sucked in her breath, unable to stop the answering rotation of her hips. A lazy grin appeared on his face, but the red tinge in his cheeks gave him away.

‘Oh, so you’re playing hardball,’ he mocked.

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