Plus, Tessa was more than a little concerned that Julia suspected something was bothering her. She’d done her very best to conceal how devastated she was about the breakup with Peter, and hadn’t said a word about it to any of her co-workers. She rarely discussed anything about her personal life anyway, and her separation and impending divorce were still too new, too raw for her to be able to discuss them with anyone. She very much feared, however, that Julia McKinnon had already surmised something was wrong, given the way Tessa had reacted to the comment about being married.
She had just finished tidying up the conference room, and was about to return to her desk, when Ian Gregson strode briskly into the room. He stopped short at seeing her, his expression as reserved and impassionate as always.
“Tessa. I didn’t realize you’d still be here.”
She simply couldn’t help the little thrill that shimmered up her spine at the sound of his deep, cultured voice. Or the way her heart rate picked up at the sight of his tall, broad-shouldered body clothed in his elegant charcoal gray suit, impeccable white dress shirt, and expertly knotted tie.
She blushed yet again as she realized he was gazing at her somewhat impatiently, evidently expecting some sort of reply. “I, um, was just leaving, sir. Can I – is there something you needed?”
He frowned slightly, already looking around the head of the table where he always sat. “I seem to have misplaced my pen. Did you happen to find it when you were tidying up?”
Tessa shook her head. “No, I didn’t, sir. But I’ll be happy to help you look for it.”
Ian waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s no bother. I’m certain it will turn up somewhere.”
From the corner of her eye she spotted an object on the thick carpet beneath the table that could be a pen. Dropping to her hands and knees, Tessa crawled the short distance, her hand closing around the pen at the exact same moment Ian squatted down beside her.
“Here it is.”
“I’ve got it.”
They spoke simultaneously, his hand brushing over hers as they both reached for the pen at the same time. Flustered by the feel of his warm hand on hers – however fleetingly – she glanced downwards only to have her mortification increase by leaps and bounds. For not only had her slim fitting skirt ridden up her thighs several inches, but the neckline of her pretty yellow blouse gapped open enough to reveal the lace of her bra. She could only hope that Mr. Gregson hadn’t noticed, but those hopes were quickly dashed when she realized his gaze was fixed firmly on her cleavage.
She knew her face must be red as a beet as she somewhat awkwardly got to her feet, smoothing her skirt down as she did so. Ian, too, stood up abruptly, then uttered a hasty “thank you” before striding out of the room in his usual authoritative manner.
Tessa was still cursing herself for her gauche, awkward behavior when she left to meet Julia for lunch. She had lost count of the times she’d made a fool of herself in Mr. Gregson’s presence – always stammering or blushing or acting like she didn’t have an ounce of sense. It was small wonder that Andrew had never once assigned her to fill in for him when he was on vacation or away on business. Marisol or Gina typically filled in, though Kevin and Alicia had also helped out before. There was no possible way Andrew would ever trust Shelby to work as Mr. Gregson’s temporary PA but evidently Tessa hadn’t been deemed worthy, either. She had always assumed it was because she lacked the college degree that nearly all of the others had. Marisol was the only one besides Tessa who didn’t have a degree, but she did have seniority over everyone else and had obviously earned Andrew’s trust because of her length of service.
But now Tessa wondered if perhaps Mr. Gregson simply didn’t think she was bright enough or capable of handling the responsibility of being his temporary PA. God knew she’d done absolutely nothing to change his impression of her, given how tongue tied she always was when he was nearby. She hoped fervently that he only thought she was a silly, not especially bright girl rather than suspect the truth – that she had a massive crush on him. The former was embarrassing – the latter would be utterly devastating if he ever knew.
And for some reason, her crush seemed to have magnified tenfold ever since Peter had left last month. Perhaps it was the subliminal knowledge that she was now truly alone that was the cause of several erotic dreams she’d had in recent weeks about her very compelling boss. The most recent one had occurred just two nights ago, and recalling the specifics of it made her cheeks grow hot and her panties grow damp.
She’d been nude, laid out on the huge conference room table, her arms and legs spread wide. It was as though invisible bonds had been tied around her limbs, holding her in place. Ian had still been fully clothed, except for his jacket and tie, his crisp white shirt partially unbuttoned to reveal a ribbon of dark hair bisecting his muscular chest. His hands and mouth had been everywhere, it seemed – kissing her lips, cupping her breasts, sliding between her eagerly parted legs. He’d kissed his way down her body, licking her nipples until she’d squirmed with arousal, and then his head had ventured between her thighs.