Beguiling the Boss(8)

"I think I can handle it now myself," she said, aware that his scent was making her overwarm.

Marsh nodded. He pushed back the chair and glanced at his watch. "You  can quit for the day, you've got a lot of data to mentally process. I'll  see you at dinner."

"Is six all right?"

"That'll be fine." His office door shut, but Jen stayed right where she was, needing a moment to gather herself together.

Working with Marsh Grainger was definitely going to be difficult if she  couldn't even handle accidental physical contact with the man.                       
       
           



       

Some employee she was going to be.

* * *

That night, Jen's cell phone rang. She wasn't surprised to see that it  was her mother calling, wondering what had taken her so long. Jen sighed  as she answered. "Hello, Mother."

"Hello, Mother? Hello, Mother?" Celia Dunning came close to shouting,  and Celia rarely shouted at anything. "You take off leaving only a note  saying ‘I'm off to see the wizard,' and all you say is ‘Hello, Mother'?"

"What else am I supposed to say?" Jen answered, gritting her teeth to  hold her temper. "I left you a note. You couldn't have been too  perturbed-it's been almost a week since I left." Try as she might, Jen  couldn't ignore the hurt she felt over the fact that it had taken her  mother so long to call.

"I'm sorry." Celia now sounded contrite. "Your father decided on the  spur of the moment Thursday evening that he felt lucky and wanted to fly  to Las Vegas. He was right," she went on. "He hit a winning streak at  the tables." She sighed. "We got back a little while ago. I just found  your note."

"Okay." What else could she say?

"Where are you, Jennifer?" Celia's voice was now tight with concern.

"I'm working for Marshall Grainger," Jen said, warmth spreading over  her as she said Marsh's name out loud. She tried to snap herself out of  it. "As I also wrote on my note."

"Jennifer Dunning," her mother said, sounding panicked, "I want to know exactly where you are living."

Lifting the phone from her ear, Jen stared at it in astonishment. The  sound of her mother's obvious nervousness was shocking. Very little  rattled her mother. She hesitated to reveal that she was living in  Marsh's home, afraid her mother would really freak out.

"I'm living in Mr. Grainger's house," she said as calmly as she could, steeling herself for the explosion.

There was a quiet pause, then Celia went off like a rocket. "In his  house? What house-here in Dallas? Are you out of your mind? Good  heavens, Jennifer, have you any idea of that man's reputation?"

"I may not be socially inclined, Mother, but I'm not unconscious. Of  course I'm aware of his reputation." Jen answered with hard-fought calm.  "But I am here in the capacity of his assistant, not his mistress. And  I'm staying in the housekeeper's quarters, in the back of the house,"  she tacked on reassuringly.

"But you already have a position here in Dallas."

Ignoring the sting of injured tears in her eyes, Jen said, "Mother, I  quit my job over two weeks ago." She didn't add, And you never noticed.

"You did?"

Jen closed her eyes. "Yes, I did."

"But why didn't you tell me?" Celia demanded, her tone impatient.

"You were...busy, and I didn't want to interrupt." She cringed at the memory of discovering her parents' secret.

"But still, Jennifer, you could have told me."

Tears trickled down Jen's face but she was damned if she would allow  her distress to show in her voice. "Well, I'm here now and enjoying the  work."

"But where is here exactly?"

"Mr. Grainger's home is near Fredericksburg." There was no way Jen  would reveal the location of the house, certain that if she did her  mother would show up within a day or two.

"Jennifer." Impatience was strong in Celia's voice. "Where precisely-"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Jen interrupted her. "Mr. Grainger is calling. I have to go. We're very busy."

"But-"

Again Jen interrupted. "Mother, please, I must hang up now. You can  call me again, or email me. Goodbye." She gently pressed the off button.

Jen wiped the tears from her eyes, realizing in that moment just how  deeply it affected her that it had taken her parents so long to realize  she was gone. She had indeed shocked them with her actions, but at this  point, her mother's reaction felt like too little too late.

At some point, she would have to talk to them about what had happened.  But she wasn't going to be ready for that conversation anytime soon.

* * *

The rest of the week played out much the same as the first day in her office, except for one difference-and it was a big one.

On Tuesday, after serving dinner, Jen was about to take her meal up to  her apartment when Marsh again asked her to join him. But this time, he  actually started talking to her moments after she seated herself  opposite him.

Of course, it was mainly talk about the ranch business, but that beat  silence hands-down. She did have one problem, though-the quiet sound of  his voice caused a quivery sensation inside her, and as if that wasn't  enough, there seemed to be a constant hum of energy flowing between  them, not only at the table but whenever they were in the same room. But  based on his attitude, it obviously didn't mean a thing to him.                       
       
           



       

All in all, she'd become uneasy whenever he was around.

On the weekend, Jen barely saw anything of Marsh as she was busy  cleaning and doing her laundry. A few times, when she was overheated,  she had a swim before making a meal. She fell into a pattern of curling  up with a book in the evening and ignoring her mother's phone calls. Jen  had nothing to say for now.

The time seemed to fly by. After several more weeks of work during  which Jen saw very little of Marsh, it came as a surprise one Saturday  morning when, after clearing away the breakfast things, he stopped her  as she headed for the laundry room.

"Jen," he said. "Do you ride?"

Blinking, Jen turned, laundry basket held in front of her. "What?"

"I asked if you ride," he said. "Horses."

"Oh, yes. Why?" She noticed a small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm going for a ride, to give the horses a run while getting some  fresh air. I was wondering if you'd care to join me," he said. "Other  than a few laps in the pool, we've both been inside all week."

Stunned by the sudden invitation, Jen could barely speak. She simply  stared at him, trying not to be affected by the snug fit of his jeans  clinging to his flat belly and his tight butt, the width of his  shoulders beneath a chambray shirt, the sprinkling of hair on his  forearms below the turned-back sleeves. She cautioned herself against  accepting his invitation.

And then she accepted.

"I'd love to go," she said, ignoring for the moment how simply being near him affected her.

"Good." Marsh gave a quick nod and started for the kitchen door. "Leave the laundry until later."

"I need to change," Jen said, glancing down at the faded, torn  clam-diggers she had put on to clean. "It'll only take a minute."

"I'll go saddle the horses." He stepped outside, hesitating before closing the door to say, "Take your time, I'm in no hurry."

As Jen headed to her apartment, her heart beating quickly from more  than just the exercise of climbing the stairs, she wondered exactly what  she'd just gotten herself into with Marsh Grainger.

* * *

Now, why in hell did I do that? Marsh thought, striding to the stables.  Wasn't it hard enough merely sitting across the table from Jen,  watching the smooth suppleness of her body as she moved around the  kitchen?

He started saddling the mare he had chosen for her. When had he become a  masochist? Marsh shook his head. He hadn't been with a woman in several  months. Hell, he hadn't been off the property in weeks, not since he'd  been to Houston. And he had come home from there frustrated and  dissatisfied.

Finished saddling the mare, he turned to his mount. What is it about  Jen that is different from any other woman? And how many times have I  asked myself that question since she moved in? Marsh mused, throwing the  saddle blanket over the back of his horse. Okay, she was  beautiful-traffic-stopping beautiful-but he had met many beautiful  women, a lot of them deeply in love...with themselves.

On the other hand, Jen didn't appear at all narcissistic or even  impressed by her beauty. That was okay, he was impressed enough for both  of them. She had a mouth made for kissing. The thought made him warm.  Warm, hell, it made him hot. Mentally tamping down his sudden need, he  directed his thoughts away from her lips to a more comfortable  direction.