The Boss’s Unconventional Assistant Page 12

  That was what she did, and he caught his breath and fought not to crush her to him.

  Maybe it was only the aftermath of her fear, but Grey wanted her there. He held her and patted her back through her sodden clothes and felt her shudder and finally press into him and the shudders leave her.

  Their bodies warmed to each other and he became aware of every nuance of the way they fitted together—her breasts against his chest, the soft cradle of her tummy against his hips.

  He would have kissed her, but she dropped her arms from around him and stepped back. ‘I need to bring Alfie in from the shed and then change these clothes. You need to get dry too.’ Her gaze roved over his chest and shifted back up to his face. ‘It’s chilled off so I suggest something warm.’

  She hurried towards the laundry room door and escaped before Grey could speak a word.

  Instead, he hobbled into the living room and turned on the heater so it could start to warm things and then headed upstairs to get into dry clothes. His arms still ached with the need to snatch her close and keep her close.

  After that perilous drive to get them back here, his resistance to her was at zero, and he was damned if he could even make himself care.

  But Soph seemed to have pulled herself together, to have overcome any inclination towards intimacy she may have felt.

  Maybe she’d just needed a hug—anyone would have done.

  Grey stomped into his bathroom. He was getting good at doing that and hobbling at the same time.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  IN A quite ferocious storm, it hammered relentless rain for the rest of the day. Soph tried to be cheerful and optimistic and most of all to keep her emotional distance from Grey.

  She pretty much failed, but she hoped she kept that from him. Once they were both warm and dry and full of cardamom coffee, she left Alfie curled on the sofa in the living room, set up Grey’s portable stereo system in the kitchen and spent the afternoon cooking to her favourite music CDs over the racket of the rain.

  And in Grey’s disturbing company. He helped her, chatted to her and in general, by his mere nearness, kept her awareness of him at a high.

  Soph no longer had green hair. Since half the colour had washed away when she’d got soaked she’d taken a quick shower and got rid of the rest, letting her hair dry just any old how because she had no intention of trying to look beautiful for Grey.

  Oh, no, she did not, and the choice of her absolute favourite blue jeans and her best fluffy rainbow jumper meant nothing anyway, so there.

  They ate dinner to metal rock played by an obscure band. Retired to the living room and listened to reggae. Sipped hot chocolate to moody jazz and, when Soph felt her emotions were getting out of hand, she put on the soundtrack to one of her favourite G-rated, kid-oriented movies.

  Rain rained, everything dripped and Grey sat silently in his chair and she sat silently on the sofa. Only Alfie the rabbit seemed content with his lot, curled beside her with his nose on his paws.

  ‘I hope this weather doesn’t cause problems. There are several creeks that come down out of the mountains that are already overflowing with snow melt.’ Grey got to his feet, went to the window and peered out into the beating rain and darkness.

  ‘I guess we’ll have to wait and see.’ Soph’s heart beat in time with the rain as, now that Grey’s back was turned, she let her gaze take in every inch of him. He looked better than wonderful in black trousers that moulded to strong thighs and a firm, appealing rear. His narrow waist widened into broad shoulders beneath a loose cotton long-sleeved shirt.

  She had touched his skin, had hugged him tight and wanted so much more. There was no point in denying it. She wanted to make love with Grey, wanted that so much she couldn’t seem to put it out of her mind. ‘Um, what happens if the creeks overflow?’

  ‘We could end up trapped here. It would be unusual, but the length and heaviness of this rain storm has been exceptional.’ Grey swung away from the window. Their gazes locked and all of her thoughts and all of his desire locked for long moments as heat rushed through her.

  His muscles tightened. Neck, face, body.

  ‘Bed. That is, it’s…um…I think I’ll turn in.’ She scooped up the rabbit. ‘I’ll just give Alfie a bit of fresh air first. There’s a nice strip of grass that gets sheltered by the rear section of veranda.’

  Her pet snuggled into her. He probably wouldn’t like her half as much when she took him outside and dumped him on the grass, but Soph headed for the laundry room door anyway.

  ‘I think I’ll listen to music a while longer. Your CD collection intrigues me.’ Grey kept his tone even, almost flat. Maybe he did like her music; in fact, he really seemed to, but was he keeping away from her too?

  If he is, that’s smart, and far more sensible than you seem to be right now.

  ‘Then I’ll just take care of Alfie’s needs and I guess I’ll see you in the morning.’ Soph exited, stage Laundry Door, and let the cold, wet air outside soothe her overheated face as the rain continued to pelt down.

  If only it would wash away her feelings for Grey at the same time.

  ‘There’s a problem upstairs—from the storm.’ Sophia spoke the words from the living room doorway in an odd, disturbed tone. She still had the rabbit clutched in her arms. Indeed, she had only disappeared upstairs moments ago.

  Grey had sat, refusing to think of her slowly removing those sprayed on jeans, lifting the fluffy jumper and revealing nakedness beneath, exposing the body that had teased and tantalised him all evening. She had curves to go with her full, lush lips. He wanted to explore all of them.

  He forced his thoughts to her words. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘We’ve lost power up there.’ She stepped forward into the living room, set the rabbit down on the sofa and stood with her arms hugged around her middle. ‘I flicked the light switch in my room and nothing happened. It’s the same in all the rooms.’

  ‘The house is on circuit breakers. I’ll go outside and turn the switch back on—’

  ‘Unfortunately, I don’t think it’s going to be that simple.’ An edgy sound that was half laugh, half tension, escaped her. ‘You see, it appears the roof has leaked…um…truckloads, actually, which is probably what put an end to the power up there. Do you have a torch?’

  Grey came to his feet and moved close to her. ‘There’s a torch in the utility drawer in the kitchen. Let’s hope the battery still works.’

  Once he located the torch and tested it, he headed up the stairs.

  She hadn’t exaggerated the damage. Rain had come through the roof in Sophia’s room, soaking the bed and carpet. The same had happened in the third bedroom, in one half of the landing and, to a lesser degree, in the bathroom she used.

  His was the only upstairs room not affected. ‘The water probably ran along the beams until it found places to come through the ceiling. It must have flowed away from my room rather than towards it.’

  ‘The base of Alfie’s basket got wet but it’s made of sturdy cane so I don’t think there’ll be a problem. I’ve changed the piece of towel for a dry one.’ Soph offered these words from outside the door of Grey’s room.

  While he had stepped inside to shine the torch around, she had hovered in the hallway. Now her concerns poured out. ‘If I hadn’t insisted on music all afternoon we might have heard what was happening.’

  At that, Grey swung to face her. The torchlight cast her face in planes and shadows and worried angles. He joined her on the landing. ‘We wouldn’t have heard a few more drips above the racket of the storm going on outside. You’re not responsible for any of this, Soph. I can replace the damaged items, get it all repaired.

  ‘In truth, I should have had the roof checked out long ago. The electrician pointed out some wear and tear up there, but I never got around to engaging a tiler to have a look.’

  She puffed up on his behalf. ‘You couldn’t have known there’d be a storm like this—’

  ‘Exactly, and you couldn’t
have known the storm might make the roof leak.’ Why did she feel such a compulsion to take responsibility? ‘I think the question is—what do we do now?’ Their options were limited. ‘There’s no point in trying to do anything about the leaks. Everything’s soaked already. But meanwhile the bed in your room is out of commission. So is the one in the spare room. The sofa downstairs seats two at a pinch. Even curled up, neither of us would fit on it for the night.’

  She drew a tight breath. ‘I’ll sleep sitting up on the sofa—’

  Grey spoke at the same time. ‘You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor—’

  They both stopped.

  Soph frowned at him. ‘You can’t sleep on a hard surface like that. It would be bad for your injuries.’

  ‘And neither of us will get any sleep on that squashed up sofa.’ He pointed it out and acknowledged that she was right—he wouldn’t sleep well without the benefit of a decent mattress under him. Nor could he allow her to do that. ‘Don’t offer to take the floor. I’d stay awake all night feeling guilty.’ But the alternative…?

  ‘If I don’t sleep on the floor or try to sleep on the sofa, and you mustn’t either, we’ll have to…share your bed.’ She all but whispered it. The appalled look on her face as she absorbed this realisation gave his ego a bit of a beating until she glanced at the bed and back at him and he saw the confusion and uncertainty in her eyes. ‘If you wouldn’t mind letting me—’

  ‘There’s plenty of room for both of us.’ If he didn’t mind letting her sleep beside him? So close he could touch, yet he mustn’t touch her. He wanted her so much his teeth ached. But it was the only viable alternative and she was halfway to accepting it.

  He pushed her the rest of the way, gestured towards the bed and made himself say the words to reassure her. ‘We need to sleep, and tomorrow we’ll sort out what else we need to do.’

  ‘We do need to sleep, don’t we?’ She chewed her lip.

  ‘Why don’t you go downstairs and turn off the stereo and the heater? I’ll get changed while you do that. You can bring your things and change in the bathroom, and then we’ll go to sleep.’ He tried for an encouraging smile. ‘All right?’

  ‘I—I guess so,’ Soph answered Grey’s question, wishing she didn’t sound so uncertain. Sheesh, she wasn’t some dubious virgin from a bygone era who didn’t know what went on in the bedroom, or how to make her own choices on the subject.

  No, she was just a dubious virgin from this era who knew exactly what could go on and wanted it too much for her own comfort.

  She pinched her lips together. So she had never trusted a man enough to give him that much of herself. What of it?

  ‘I’ll be back in ten minutes, if that’s long enough?’ When he nodded, Soph swung around and hurried away. She carried pans upstairs and scattered them about to try to catch drips. And then she made up jobs to keep her downstairs longer than the ten minutes. Maybe Grey would have dozed off by the time she returned to his room.

  To share his bed for the night.

  Just the two of them.

  Not even Alfie would be in the room because, well, she couldn’t expect Grey to want a rabbit in a basket beside him. He’d been tolerant enough of Alfie, but not exactly…enamoured. Instead, she trudged up the stairs and settled her pet in his basket in a dry corner of the corridor.

  Completely procrastinating now, she fussed some more to ensure the rabbit’s comfort, not that he seemed to care. He was blobbed out and almost asleep already. Then, because she couldn’t delay any longer, Soph gathered her pyjamas and toothbrush from her room and the bathroom—thank goodness her clothes had stayed dry in the cupboard—and stepped quietly into her boss’s bedroom.

  And there was Grey.

  In the bed.

  Naked. The top half of him, at any rate. Naturally, he wouldn’t be naked beneath the sheets, or she certainly hoped not! Soph realised she had come to a standstill to stare, and Grey stared right back at her, his eyes managing to look both somnolent and sharply interested in the candlelight.

  ‘You brought the aromatherapy candle from your bathroom.’ The one she had placed there. She edged towards his en suite bathroom with the torch in her free hand. ‘It…um…it smells great and thank you for thinking of some light for us. We should probably conserve the torch battery, I guess. I’ll be as quick as I can.’

  Soph clutched her pyjamas and toothbrush tighter against her chest and dashed into the bathroom. ‘Don’t stay awake on my account, though. You’re probably exhausted and want to go to sleep this instant.’

  She slapped the bathroom door shut behind her and leaned against it. With her eyes closed, she wondered what other inane things she could have said. After a moment, the cold of the room began to penetrate and Soph reluctantly moved forward to clean her teeth and get ready for bed. They really did have to conserve the torch battery.

  She could do this. It was no big deal. He probably didn’t think it was a big deal. He’d probably had plenty of women share his bed. Hmph. Soph helped herself to some of Grey’s mouthwash and gargled loudly.

  Finally there was nothing else to do, no other means to put off the inevitable. She opened the bathroom door a crack, slipped through it, turned off the torch and put it on the floor where she would be able to reach it and, without looking at Grey once, slid beneath the covers and curled up into a ball at the edge of the bed.

  Grey shifted and sighed on his side of the bed—obviously not asleep.

  Soph realised, belatedly, that she hadn’t helped him with his ankle exercises before they’d turned in. ‘Your physio—are you uncomfortable?’

  ‘Yes, I am quite uncomfortable.’ He muttered the words in a low tone that rushed her senses and made her blush in the darkness. ‘The ankle doesn’t feel great either, but I’m sure I’ll survive. Go to sleep, Sophia.’

  ‘Grey—?’ She stopped because she didn’t know what she wanted to say to him, and there wasn’t anything really, was there? Not that could be said. Not that she should say. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight.’ He rolled away from her in the dim light, so his back was turned. The scent of the candle wafted in the air, but it wasn’t a patch on the scent of warm man—of Grey—beside her.

  She was in his bed, for heaven’s sake. Well, she had better just put that thought aside and get some rest. Thank goodness Grey had some control, because otherwise she would be right over there getting as snug as possible with him.

  Yes, thank goodness for Grey’s control. It had turned out to be a good thing after all, hadn’t it? She let out a long, disgusted sigh and buried her face in her pillow.

  When that didn’t seem to help, she flipped over on to her back, and then her other side, and, after some more shuffling about, finally settled in to begin the long and strenuous journey towards insensibility. Surely, sooner or later, she would manage to fall asleep? When she woke it would be morning, she would have survived this night of being close to Grey and not letting herself touch him or snuggle into him or do any of the other things she so desperately wanted to do with him.

  They would get up and be boss and employee again, and they would find out how to fix the roof and replace everything—he was right.

  It wasn’t her responsibility, so why did she feel she needed to contribute and couldn’t?

  Soph shifted positions again, seeking that comfortable place that wasn’t to be found either mentally, physically or emotionally.

  Tomorrow would be better. It had to be. She drifted into a restless sleep.

  Grey wanted Sophia. His body ached from his toenails to the ends of his hair, but he was keeping to himself—just. She’d wiggled and sighed and buried her face in his pillow and squirmed and shifted and wiggled some more until finally, after what felt like at least two hours, she’d drifted into a genuine sleep.

  Only then did Grey relax enough to release his breath in a long sigh of his own, and he rolled towards her. Damned if he didn’t. He pulled his pillow closer to hers and ignored the twitchy f
eeling in the leg with the damaged ankle attached, and instead buried his face close to her hair.

  It was heaven and hell, but eventually the room and the scent of the candle and the hours he had been awake enabled him to find his way towards slumber, despite the tight coil of his body, the need.

  His feelings for Sophia were deepening. Grey grimaced as he wearily acknowledged that. He wanted her in more ways than a mere physical joining. He wanted to understand what made her tick, wanted to see inside her soul. Grey had never wanted that with another woman, had thought himself incapable of such things, to be truthful.

  If he let it happen he could fall for her…but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to open the same can of worms his father had exposed him to through all his marriages. The fights and emotional upheaval and each of his stepmothers eventually leaving. He didn’t blame Leanna or Dawn or Sharon—his father had hurt each of them. Grey had never felt particularly close to him either, and he’d struggled because of his father’s actions. He didn’t want that turmoil in his adult life.

  Sophia made a snuffling sound in her sleep, flipped over and burrowed her nose against his neck, where she proceeded to snore softly.

  A well of tenderness rose up and threatened to engulf him. Grey’s chest ached—not with pain and not because of stress—but because of Sophia. His body knitted itself to hers—angles to curves, hard to soft—even though he had lots of noble reasons not to touch her. It felt right. He sighed against her hair and left his mouth there, where he could feel her warmth through his lips, inhale her scent and enjoy her nearness.

  He would move away before morning. She didn’t need to know how she had tempted him. Finally, he too slept.

  ‘Argh!’ Grey’s sound of pain jolted Soph from a warm, bone-melting sleep to wakefulness quickly enough for her to feel him draw away from her, realise they had been curled in each other’s arms, and then understand his distress as he sat up in the bed, shoved his pyjama leg unceremoniously up and wrapped his fingers around his calf.