Chapter Fourteen
Tamara pulled back the quilt and crawled on her oversized bed, leaning against an enormous stack of pillows and settling into her book. She’d barely finished the first chapter when the floorboards outside her room made a distinctive creaking sound.
She glanced up to see the doorknob turn, and wondered which one of the girls needed her. She wasn’t shocked when the door opened—
Not until Caleb marched in.
Marched in, turning to close the door behind himself.
Tamara stared, positive her jaw was hanging low. “Need something?”
“No.” He strode to the side of the bed, gaze fixed on the wall behind her.
Tamara shoved away the impulse to grab a pillow to cover herself. “What… What are you doing?”
“Getting ready for bed.”
The impossibility of that statement combined with the dirty daydreams she’d been having about her boss mixed into one enormous cauldron, and Tamara found herself, for the first time in a long time, speechless.
Her silence was based on utter confusion, not helped at all by the fact he was deadly quiet as he reached to undo the buttons of his shirt.
Somehow she forced herself to form words. “Caleb, this isn’t funny. You shouldn’t be here.”
He shrugged the flannel off leaving a plain white muscle shirt behind, the broad muscles of his shoulders and massive biceps far too close. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, darlin’. Where else should I be when it’s time to get ready for bed?”
“Your own room. Caleb—”
Tamara’s mouth went dry as the final layer covering his torso lifted away. Far far too much naked, gorgeous skin was right there beside her. A light dusting of hair covered his chest, another darkening and narrowing as it headed lower and disappeared under his beltline and—
Oh my word, he was putting his hands on his belt and loosening the buckle, and…this was not happening.
Tamara abandoned her book and slipped out of bed. She had some idea of hiding in the bathroom until he came to his senses, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
Maybe she should have been afraid. Maybe she should have screamed, but he wasn’t scaring her, scaring her. Just making every nerve in her body tingle and sending her pulse into orbit.
His gaze slid down, then up, until he was once again staring into her eyes. When he spoke, his voice had gone low. “I think that’s my favourite nightie. Although I don’t know why you bother to wear it since I won’t let you keep it on for very long.”
Maybe she’d fallen asleep and was having a deliciously dirty dream. Tamara reached up and pinched the skin of her forearm. “Ouch.”
Awake. Definitely awake.
“What the hell have you been doing?” Suspicion rushed in. “Have you been drinking, Caleb Stone?
He stepped closer, his gaze dropping from her eyes to linger on her breasts. The traitorous things reacted, nipples jerking upright to press against the cool material of her nightgown.
“Nope. Not a drop. Only, you see, I hear you and I are an item. I hear you’re warming my bed at night, and I’d hate to think of you as a liar. So we should make it clear where we stand. Or should I say, where we lie?”
Tamara stuttered for a moment. “S-s-someone said we’re sleeping together? Oh my God, who? Wait, what?”
His answer was wordless. His hand no longer hovered between them. Instead he touched her, tracing the thin strap of her nightgown down her shoulder, continuing to the swell of her breast. His fingertip slid over the hard peak of her nipple, and a shiver rippled over her entire body.
Her brain was not working, that much was obvious. She forced herself to speak. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Seems someone at that birthday party you went to got the idea that I’m sleeping with my nanny. I figured since you were the one who started the rumour, you wouldn’t mind if—”
The birthday party? “I hate small towns.”
Tamara jerked back two steps, instant fury heating her blood. Now she knew what he was talking about, the memory clear and sharp.
She was mad at herself for having spoken out of turn, but she was even madder at Caleb for what he was doing. “Look, there were a bunch of catty creatures there that day who were not being very nice, making remarks they shouldn’t about all sorts of things. So, yeah, I got a little snarky with them, but I did not say we were sleeping together. I said you had no reason for them to farm out your services like a stud bull for hire.”
“Well, baby, your smart comments caused trouble.”
Really? He was going to come in here and go asshole on her? She might find it difficult to think straight with him shirtless and all, but this was not happening.
He was right…but he was totally wrong.
Fine if he wanted to punish her for screwing up. But not like this. This was so far over the line the other direction she was actually shocked he’d gone through with it. If she hadn’t been as annoyed as a cat stuck in a rainstorm she might have been impressed at the level of his game. Then she realized…
Caleb’s expression might be unreadable, but his eyes—
He couldn’t hide the fire burning in his gut. Lust, not anger.
It appeared his little lesson had backfired.
Inspiration hit—a bad, wicked idea that was so wrong. So very wrong, but now that it was fully formed, stopping was damn near impossible.
She needed to turn away.
Need to grab on and take a bite.
God, she needed a bite of Caleb Stone.
Do it. Take a bite.
Fine, it was a bad idea, but she’d blame the stupidity on the heat in her veins, bubbling now with sexual frustration as well as anger.
She lifted her chin and looked him in the eye as she adjusted position. Closer. Closer, until she could skim her fingertips over his impossibly hard chest. Circling and teasing the light dusting of curls and the tight surface of his nipples.
“I’m sorry, baby. You’re right. I misspoke. You are just fine without a woman. Your bed isn’t cold and lonely.” As she spoke she slid her hand down. Slowly, lower, until her thumb stroked the thick ridge she found waiting, pressed to the front of his jeans. “You don’t spend the night with your fist wrapped around your cock.”
Caleb swallowed hard. His pulse raced at the base of his throat.
“Tamara—” The word was a harsh growl.
But he didn’t move away.
“Or maybe you do. Taking care of yourself—I’m sure you take care of yourself no problem.” Tamara unsnapped the button on his jeans. He grabbed her wrist. “Not that I blame you. I do the same thing.”
The sound of his zipper being lowered meshed with a dangerous rumble deep in his chest. He let go of her hands, and then, oh my God, he was touching her. Skimming his palms up her waist, slowing as he passed her breasts.
She ached. She waited, no longer angry, but on fire with desire.
Caleb sucked for air, chest heaving as he fought—for control? For strength? He slid his fingers into her hair and tightened, lifting her face.
Then his lips crashed down and he was kissing her senseless. His rock-firm body met hers as his other hand jammed against her lower back, locking them together. It was incredible, like cool wine on a hot day, all delicious sweetness and tingling pleasure.
Tamara tangled her hands in his hair as he took the kiss deeper. Tongues fighting, bodies wrapping tighter.
She was nothing but aching need on the inside. An empty aching need waiting to be filled. Tamara was tempted to climb him like a tree, clinging tight until they were both satisfied. A shiver raced up her spine as he lifted her skyward, and she wrapped her legs around him, wishing the layers between them were gone.
This kiss was fierce and possessive, one hand cupping her breast, and she wasn’t sure how it happened but she was on the bed, hot male draped over her like a sexy, sexy blanket.
He caught the hem of her nightie, scrunching the fabric upward as if ready to strip it for her. She could go along with that. She could shove his jeans down and roll them until—
Caleb jerked back, just enough to separate them. Chests brushing as they fought for air.
Her entire body tingled as he rolled off. He kept moving until he was on his feet, standing beside the bed.
He shoved a hand through his hair, the strands sticking up wildly.
“I’m sorry.” The words fell like an avalanche. Crashing, unexpected.
She grabbed a pillow, clutching in front of her like a shield. Her brain wasn’t quite working, bewilderment and sexual frustration swirling.
He was apologizing? God, she didn’t know if that made her more angry or frustrated.
It certainly made her confused.
He stared down for one more moment, his body tight with need, his erection clearly visible. Frustration and desire dogged her, and she opened her mouth to say something, but he snatched his shirt from the ground and fled.
Tamara sat there, stunned, her heart pounding in the silence that followed the click of the door.
She hadn’t expected any of that, and she collapsed to her pillows and let out a long sigh of frustration.
Frustrated, confused and at a total loss.
How on earth could she face him tomorrow?
Caleb crashed into the hallway, somehow closing Tamara’s door and taking a dozen steps before his shaking legs forced him to put his shoulders to the wall. Deep breaths shook him as he fought his desires.
Three more seconds and he would’ve been beyond the point of no return. As a man who prided himself on his control, at that moment there was nothing he wanted more than to go back, jerk open the door and pick up where he’d left off—
The fire burning in her eyes said she wouldn’t stop him. The way she’d gripped his shoulders in passion as they’d kissed…
He dragged a hand over his skin, feeling the welts she’d left with her nails.
Caleb’s head thumped the wall again before he pushed to vertical, shuffling down the hallway. He needed to do something. He needed to do anything that would take him away from temptation, because it was clear the two of them had an awful lot of kindling piled up, and it wasn’t safe for them to be in a room alone. Not unless he was going to blow this entire relationship to hell by stripping her and driving into her like a man possessed.
God, what he wouldn’t do to be able to take her.
He stepped five paces farther down the hallway then three paces back, trying to decide where to go. He wasn’t about to drop into his own bed, or hit the shower—in both those circumstances, he’d be taking his unruly hard-on to completion in the saddest and sorriest of ways considering there was a hot-blooded woman down the hall willing and interested. No way would he stroke off while thinking about her.
So he took the only guaranteed boner-killer and shoved open the door to his office. He flicked on the light, prepared to let the chaos in the untended room cool his fires as he pondered once again what a pathetic excuse for—
It was clean.
Shock nearly as strong as the passion he’d just experienced struck, and he crept forward, wondering if he’d stepped through a time machine.
The last time he’d seen the office this tidy, his parents had still been alive.
Bitter grief swamped him, and he clutched the back of the chair to keep from wavering. He was overwrought, emotion churning through him with his brain not fully engaged.
The woman he wanted more than his next breath was interested and yet utterly unavailable.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the mental images of his children. Their sweet smiles the center of his universe. A balancing place.
It took a moment, but when he glanced around again nothing had changed—the room was still strangely neat, and he moved forward with caution.
The side credenza held papers, stacked and in order. A quick glance through showed they were not only separated into bills and statements, they’d been sorted by month, and any he’d scrawled his name on in an attempt to have a way to remember which were paid had a red line under the total.
Around the edge of the room were more piles, neatly placed in folders, and on the desktop itself, his ledgers were out. The ones he still filled in by hand because that was how his mother had done it, and learning how to transfer it all over to a computer had seemed more work than it was worth with the limited time he had.
A trembling moment of displeasure struck. One of his brothers could have snuck into the room and straightened things, but he doubted it. No reason for them to do that now when they hadn’t done it anytime during the previous ten years.
It had to be Tamara’s work.
He wasn’t sure what to think about her looking through the family finances. Having her know what their financial bottom line was made him uncomfortable in ways he couldn’t quite articulate.
He should be mad. It was an invasion of privacy. It wasn’t her place to come in and do such a thing, especially not without asking permission.
But as he flipped open the journal he discovered there were no additional entries in the book. The last thing in there was in his somewhat legible handwriting.
Tucked between the pages, though, was a printout with the numbers from the statements on the side credenza. A running assessment, with no totals but a place to check off if the balances had been entered. She’d left that part blank, meaning her organization had gone only so far.
Still a stretch, but not as invasive as it could’ve been.
Caleb sat in the chair and considered hard. A riot of emotion rolled through him. The fierce passion he’d felt was still there, but it was muted with something else.
Looking around the room he realized she’d given him a gift he hadn’t expected.
Hell if he was smart enough to know what to do with it.