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Bossman's List: A Billionaire Christmas Office Romance by Ashlee Price (155)


 

Chapter 2

Lionel woke up to a stiff back and a need to go to the toilet. The weight on his bladder, he realized, was not helping at all. He bent his head to look at the woman nestled in his arms. Besides the fact that she felt perfect as she lay against him, he realized the hair he had mistaken as brown the previous evening, was in fact auburn and thick. He stroked it. It was silky to his touch. Her skin was more alabaster than pale, and her cheeks were flushed. He touched her forehead and found that indeed, she was hot. Her long eyelashes fluttered and she opened her eyes, staring straight into his; green, with specks of gold, almost like that of a cat, and wary.

When she made to pull away from him and out of his embrace, he pulled her closer, for some strange reason not wanting to part with her.

“Stay.”

She ceased her struggles at once. “Ahm, I’m thirsty.”

“Good, I’ll take you to your room and see that you get something to drink. Then I’ll go about seeing to your luggage.”

Without giving Alicia time to respond, he stood up, with her still in his arms, and strode out the room, only stopping to open the door, and took her up the stairs and deposited her in her new bed in her new room. “See you in a moment.”

Alicia stared at the closed door. ‘Wow! What a piece of…well, damn, he is sexy!’ was the first coherent thing that crossed her mind. She had liked being in his arms, she had to admit. He was warm, his scent was intoxicating, and he was one hell of a looker. Laying back against the pillows, she snuggled in and let her mind drift to her rescuer. He must be Lionel Eckhart, he was young enough, but what their written communication had not mentioned, was that he was tall, with ice-blue eyes, chiseled features, and a body that was hard as a rock. She wondered, idly, what that body would feel like under her hands. Her reverie was put to an end by a soft knock at the door.

Alicia sat up. “Come in, please.”

“Hello dearie, I’m Heather Carpenter, but you can call me Mrs. C. if you like, just as Lionel does, bless his heart.” The older woman bustled around to the side of the bed Alicia was laying on, put down a cup of tea next to her on the bedside table, and sat down. “So, come tae help the master with his work, have ye?”

Alicia nodded. “Yes, Mr. Eckhart. Was that him? Who helped me last night?”

“Indeed lass, ‘twas none other. So how are ye feelin’ this morn’?”

“I’m not sure. Thirsty, my throat hurts a little, but I feel so hot!”

“Ah!” Mrs. C. clucked, “tha’ would be a fever you be havin’ what with getting so wet and cold like that! I’ll make my famous hot toddy and be bringin’ it up to ye with the breakfast.”

When Alicia would decline, saying she preferred getting dressed and getting to work as soon as possible, she was scolded soundly by the little woman who told her in no uncertain terms that to get up would bring down the ‘wrath of the master’ and that was apparently most undesirable.

She sipped her tea in contemplative silence as the small women left, and had a good look around her. Her new room was beautiful and decorated in hues of white and rose, her bed a solid four-poster with curtains which could be drawn; all old fashioned, yet beautifully done. The curtains in front of her windows were open, allowing her a glimpse of the grey sky beyond, before she realized there were French doors and she had a balcony. She felt as if she had walked into a scene dating back to the eighteen hundreds. All she still needed was a dress to suit the surroundings. She smiled at her fanciful thoughts.

Her door was suddenly flung open to reveal Lionel Eckhart once more. The large man had her two bulky suitcases as well as her vanity in hand, and he was not even breaking a sweat.

“I’ll put them over there, shall I?” he indicated a space in the corner near the window. “Mrs. C will help you get unpacked later. She’s bringing you up something for your fever, she said, and our breakfast. Then we can talk. I’ll see you in a few.”

“Yup. Sure thing,” it came bemusedly from Alicia. That voice! That smell! Intoxicating!

Alicia got out of bed, needing to use the bathroom, and went through the door which she thought served as such, but was surprised to find herself in a large lounge area with a desk set up at one end.  She had her own suite! Going back to her bedroom, she tried the second door, which, she was grateful to find, was the much sought after bathroom.  Doing the necessary, she decided on a shower and got undressed. She selected a cooler temperature than she would normally have chosen, but she felt so incredibly hot that the cooler water felt like bliss on her skin, cooling her down, cradling her. After toweling off, she donned the night dress she had been wearing again, noticing for the first time that the flimsy material did next to nothing to hide her nakedness. Then she remembered the previous evening, of being undressed in front of the fire, and realized that her new boss and rescuer, had seen every square inch of her naked body. Blushing at the thought, she made her way to the bedroom and started going through her luggage, intent on finding something more appropriate to wear. Her flannel pajamas were at the bottom of the one suitcase and she pulled it out and put it on, feeling more adequately dressed than she had before.

Mrs. C. came in, with Lionel Eckhart at her heels, each of them balancing a tray. “There we go then! Ah, ye’ve been up then, have ye? Well, get yersel’ right back into that bed! Go on with ye!”

“Better do as she says, she might be small, but she packs a mean punch.”

The command in the rumbling voice made her get back under the covers, much to her consternation. What was it about this man that had her doing as he said? It was uncanny!

After bustling about a little more, Mrs. C. left, closing the door after her, and left the two of them alone.

“So, you are Alicia Clarke, are you? We don’t stand at attention here. I’m Lionel Eckhart, but call me Lionel, please. Mrs. C. you’ve met. Her husband, Mike, you have yet to meet. He doesn’t say much but has a heart of gold, as does she.”

Alicia found herself taking him in rather than what he was saying, noticing that his hair was still damp and there was an added pine scent to his mixture of smells that had not been there earlier, which she surmised must have come from his soap. “Hi,” she managed, with a small wave.

Lionel sat on the bed where the two trays were set between them and shoved a fork full of bacon and eggs into his mouth. When he felt her stare, he looked up, their eyes meeting, the silence between them seeming to stretch for an eternity.

The power of his gaze hit Alicia in her gut, and she had a strange feeling of déjà vu. It was as if her eyes were drawn to him of their own volition, she could not look away, instead trying to read the message behind his unfathomable gaze. His nostrils flared.

“Something has changed. You don’t smell the same. Have you had a bath?”

Alicia gulped. He was aware of her smell? As she was of his? “Yes,” she nodded, “a shower, actually. I feel so hot! I thought a cool shower would be nice.”

“Hot? Ah, good, very good. Eat up. You will soon feel quite normal, I promise. Now eat…please.” He said the last work like a man who was not used to asking for anything, she noticed.

Alicia dug into the food, finding that her appetite had returned in full force.

When they had finished, he lay back against the one post of the bed, giving her the full force of his regard. “So tell me about yourself, Alicia Clarke.”

Alicia recounted the boring details of her life: that she was an orphan since shortly after her eighteenth birthday, that her mother had died from cancer when she was thirteen, was raised by her father, and that she had been adopted at roughly the age of three.

“What happened to your birth parents?”

“I’m not all that sure, to be honest, except from what Dad told me: that my birth mother had given me up for adoption for reasons unknown and my father, apparently, had been a marine and died overseas at some point. That’s all I know.”

“I see, so you have no contact with your blood family at all?”

Alicia shook her head. “None whatsoever.”

“Well now, that’s a sorry state of affairs.”

“Is it? I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it. My parents were both wonderful people.”

“I am sure they were. Tell me something? Why did you take this job?”

“I don’t know exactly. I’ve always loved the open wilderness, and the fact I would be away from the city appealed to me. I look forward to the summer, so that I can go exploring the area.”

“Too many people about makes you feel uncomfortable? As if you were constricted? Smothered?” he leaned in closer and his scent filled her nostrils once again, while a tiny fluttering started at the pit of her stomach, spreading downwards. She suddenly felt agitated, yet wanted to draw nearer to this man, wanted to touch him, feel his skin beneath her fevered palm, wanted to, yes, she admitted to herself, wanted to taste him!

Her harsh, sudden intake of breath made him smile. He raised his one hand and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. “You feel it, don’t you? The pull? You want to get near me, touch me, and smell me? I’ve been looking for you for a very long time, Alicia. Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you, ever, even when…” he trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.

“Right, you look okay to me. You can get dressed and come downstairs if you wish, I’ll be there.”

He piled all their dishes and cutlery onto one tray and placed the empty one underneath, and left, carrying them both with him.

Alicia let out a pent-up breath of air. She had never wanted someone so badly in her life! His mere presence was like a flame, and she a willing moth, wanting desperately to fly around it, even welcoming the possibility of getting burnt!

She went through to the bathroom once again and splashed her face with cold water. “What have you gotten yourself into now, Alicia Clarke?” she asked her reflection in the mirror above the sink.

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