Beyond The Boardroom(9)

He set her down and moved to cover her. "I need that, too," he whispered  and wrapping his arms around her waist, he held onto her as he rolled  onto his back.

And Rachel was straddling him, looking down into his eyes, feeling herself drowning in a sea of gold-flecked green.

She moved on him and Shane bit back a groan. In the lamplight pooling in  through the windows, she looked like a goddess. Her honey-blond hair  loose and waving about her shoulders, her breasts high and full, a  knowing smile on her luscious mouth.

Something beyond lust, beyond desire quickened inside him. But it was  forgotten in a new rush of need as she moved on him again. Swiveling her  hips, she took him deep inside her body and sighed with satisfaction as  she set a slow, steady rhythm between them.

He reached up, cupping her breasts and tweaking her nipples with his  thumbs and forefingers. She sighed and that soft sound filled him with  fire. He dropped his hands to her hips and guided her on him, helping  her move.

Pushing himself higher and deeper inside her, he felt the first  shuddering ripples of her climax wash through her. He saw her eyes glaze  over, watched as her head fell back, and when she called his name,  Shane's body erupted and he jumped into oblivion, holding her close as  he fell.

Rachel woke up a couple of hours later. She opened her eyes and found  herself staring at the floor. Clinging to the edge of the mattress, she  was cold and realized that not only had Shane hogged the bed, he'd also  stolen all the blankets.

A sign?

Sliding off the bed, she hurried to the closet, threw it open and  grabbed her robe. With the thick, dark green terry cloth wrapped around  her, she tied the belt at her waist and looked at Shane, sprawled across  her mattress. Torn between the glow of having been well loved and  already worrying about how in the hell she would ever be able to look  him in the eye again, Rachel chewed at her bottom lip. Her mind raced  with possibilities and consequences.

None of them pleasant.

She wasn't an idiot.

She knew darn well that the hours they'd spent together in her bed wouldn't mean to Shane what it had to her.

Sure, they'd made something magical between the two of them, but he wasn't in love with her. She knew that.

What she didn't know was why he'd-

Stop.

Rachel shut her brain off, refusing to continue wandering down the  twisted paths her mind kept showing her. It was too late to turn back  the clock and prevent this night from happening, even if she wanted to.  Which, to be honest, she didn't.

Turning her back on Shane, she slipped from the bedroom and walked  quietly through the darkness. She paused in the living room long enough  to turn off the stereo, then continued on to the kitchen, moving through  a silence so loud it was deafening.

There, she moved around the familiar space, not needing a light. She  filled the coffeepot with water, set it back on the hot plate and filled  the basket with a few scoops of dark, rich Colombian coffee grounds.  She hit the button and stood in the shadows as the coffeemaker hissed  and gurgled, scenting the air with an aroma that was both comforting and  familiar.

She stared out the window and nearly hypnotized herself watching snow  drifting past the glass. Her body still hummed with satisfaction and  yet … she couldn't settle. Couldn't enjoy even the memories of what she  and Shane had shared.

Because she knew that with the morning light, everything between them would be changed.

Forever.

What she didn't know was what to do about it.

Rubbing her hands up and down her arms against a chill she felt right  down to her bones, she walked back to the bedroom, opened the door  quietly and stood on the threshold. He was still sleeping, so Rachel  indulged herself and watched him unnoticed as he slept.

Something inside her turned over and she realized that sleeping with him  had only intensified her feelings. And she wondered what in the heck  she was supposed to do now.

How could she look at him again, knowing what it was like to be in his arms, and pretend she didn't want it to happen again?

How could she face him at work and not remember his kiss, his body wrapped around hers?

"You're watching me."

His voice rumbled from the shadows and she jumped. "Didn't know you were awake."

He rose up and braced himself on his elbows. The quilt covering him slid  down his broad, naked chest and puddled at his hips. She couldn't see  his eyes in the dark, but she felt his gaze as surely as if he'd reached  out to touch her.

Oh, she was in such deep trouble.

"I smelled the coffee."                       
       
           



       

Of course he did. He hadn't been reacting to some secret sense telling  him she was nearby. They weren't connected on some higher emotional  plane, for Pete's sake.

She swallowed regret and grimaced at the bitter taste. "It's ready if you want some."

"Sounds good."

Well, isn't this nice and stiff, she thought. Any more polite and  there'd be icicles hanging in the air between them. But she didn't say  that. What would be the point? She only nodded and left, knowing he'd  get up and follow her.

It took him a few minutes and when he walked into the now brightly lit  kitchen, he was dressed, his suit coat slung across one shoulder hooked  on his index finger. He laid the jacket down over the back of a chair,  then took the coffee mug she offered him.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." How very dignified they were, when only a couple of hours ago, they'd been all over each other.

"It's good," he said after taking a sip.

Rachel tugged at the collar of her robe, feeling at a real disadvantage  with him in his suit and her … well, naked under a layer of terry cloth.  To occupy herself, she reached for her own coffee cup and folded both  hands around it. Taking a long sip, she let the heat shoot through her  before she spoke again.

Then, keeping her voice light despite the ball of lead settled in the  pit of her stomach, she said, "So when does everyone else get to hear  the news about your big win at EPH?"

He studied the surface of his coffee. "My father's going to officially announce it at the New Year's party."

"But word will get out to the family long before then."

"Probably," he agreed, a half smile on his face.

"You're looking forward to your brothers and sister finding out."

"Of course. And you should, too."

She leaned back against the edge of the counter. "Why's that?"

"Because we're a team, Rachel," he blurted, then let his voice trail off and his gaze drift back to his coffee.

Awkwardness rose up and sat between them like an ugly troll waiting to be recognized.

So Rachel did.

"We're not a team, Shane. I work for you."

His gaze snapped to hers. "Yeah, but-"

She set her coffee down on the countertop and stuffed both hands into  the pockets of her robe. Her bare toes curled on the cold floor. "What  happened between us tonight-"

"Was a mistake, I know," he said and Rachel's jaw dropped.

"Well, that was honest."

He set his coffee down on the small table, pushed his hands into his  slacks pockets and started pacing. A few steps to the counter, then a  few steps back again.

"It was my fault," he said, his voice gruff, laced with an emotion she  couldn't identify. "And it shouldn't have happened. Damn it, Rachel, you  work for me-"

"That's right," she said firmly, fighting back the quaver wanting to  sound in her voice. "I work for you-but I make my own decisions. And  last night was as much about my choices as yours."

He blew out a breath. "Fine. We both decided. But I should have been the one to back off."

A choked laugh shot from her throat. "Oh, yes. The big strong man should  have found a way to save the little woman from herself. Is that it?"

His features tightened up and the muscle in his jaw twitched. "Damn it, that's not what I meant."

"I'm not so sure." Heck, she wasn't sure of anything at the moment. All  she knew for a fact was she wanted him out of her house before she did  something really stupid like cry.

Oh, wouldn't that be the cherry on top? Sleep with your boss then cry  about it in front of him. Hey, atta girl Rachel, she told herself. Keep  doing dumb stuff.

God, this conversation was even harder than she'd thought it would be when she was simply dreading it.

He glanced at his wristwatch, then to her. "Maybe we shouldn't try to talk about this now."

She nodded stiffly. "Maybe not."

"I should probably go."

"Good idea." Go already, she screamed inwardly. Hurry it up before the tears start.

God, she felt like an idiot.

But she'd brought this on herself. She was the one who kissed him. Heck,  after that, of course he had to have sex with her. Turning her down  would have been embarrassing. How much kinder to just sleep with the  poor little lonely assistant.

A pity romp.

Great.

What every girl dreams of.