Bedded By The Boss. Yvonne LindsayЧитать онлайн книгу.
Since she’d come to Al Mansur Associates, her body seemed to have developed a mind of its own that had nothing to do with her intellect.
Elan’s smile stayed plastered across his face. She could only begin to imagine what was going on in his mind as he watched the men guide the drill deeper and deeper into the earth.
When the drilling finally stopped, he placed his hand gently in the curve above her hips to guide her to the downward ladder. The simple and practical caress made her feel languid, sensuous.
“Is it a gusher?” she asked, half-joking, once they were back on solid ground.
“Not yet.” He smiled. “Once they pump out the drilling mud it will be. But you won’t see oil shooting up into the air. We don’t like to waste a single barrel.”
They spent the rest of the afternoon visiting wells in various stages of drilling and pumping. Elan moved about the job site with the ease and confidence of a man used to being in command. Honored that he’d chosen to groom her for a larger role in the company, Sara resolved to live up to his obviously high expectations of her.
Back on his private jet, he settled into the seat beside her. She wondered why he didn’t sit in one of the other seats on the plane. There was no reason for them to sit together since they were the only passengers. Presumably he’d sat beside her on the trip out because she’d been clinging to him like a limpet.
Perhaps he wanted to be close in case she needed reassurance. Did she? Not about the plane. Now that she’d survived her first flight she was relatively relaxed about flying again.
She would like some reassurance that she could work with Elan without wetting his suit with her drool. And that kind of reassurance was not immediately forthcoming. Especially not as he removed his gold cuff links and—once again—rolled his shirtsleeves up over broad, muscled forearms.
Oh, dear. She pressed her fingertips to her eyelids. Just don’t look, okay!
“Are you tired?”
“What? Er, yes. I suppose I am a little.” Tired of the way she couldn’t get a grip on her libido. “It was a fascinating day. I really appreciate you bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome. I’ve never brought my assistant out to the field with me before, but I can see your abilities are far above average.”
“Thank you.”
As the jet’s engines roared to life, her gut clenched with sudden apprehension. Without a word he placed his hand over hers. But the warmth of his touch proved anything but soothing.
Fear evaporated as a painful lightning bolt of desire ripped through her, leaving a smoking trail of heat in its path. Her body burned with a dangerous and craven longing to become entangled with this man in a way that was entirely unprofessional.
Elan’s hands were calloused. The rough texture of his palms made her skin prickle with awareness. His fingers were soft yet firm as they wrapped around hers. The unwelcome thought of those broad, masculine hands moving over her tortured flesh sent shock waves of agonizing arousal shivering through her.
Her feelings for him suddenly seemed like the oil pressurized beneath the earth, waiting to rush up and explode into the clear sky unless she kept them very carefully capped and sealed. And every second in Elan’s presence brought her closer to a potentially devastating blowout.
“Oh, I’m totally fine now that I’ve gotten used to flying,” she’d said. “Really, I’m…” She turned to look out the window. “Oh.”
She sat back in her seat quickly and pressed a hand to her chest. Elan glanced past her and saw the landing lights through the porthole window as the plane banked steadily to the right.
“Goodness, does it always tip to the side like that?” Her voice shook and she licked her lips anxiously.
“Yes, it’s a normal part of the approach.”
She pressed a hand to her mouth and slowly turned her head as the trail of lights twisted under the moving plane. Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the seat rest between them and he fought the urge to put his arm around her.
He wanted to warm her, soothe and caress her, soften her and then… Typical male. Her words at the site came back to him and he cursed himself. He’d assured her on her first day at the job that he was anything but typical, and he’d live up to that promise if it killed him.
She was seven years younger than him. She knew little of the world, as evidenced by the fact that she’d never been in a plane. He had a responsibility to himself, and to her, to make sure that nothing happened between them. He had a responsibility to Al Mansur Associates, which needed her sharp mind in its offices more than he needed her soft body in his bed.
The plane banked more sharply, turning in preparation for the final approach, and the twin rows of lights on the ground shone brighter and closer in the darkness. A tiny laugh emerged from her tightened throat. “People always see light coming toward them in their final moments, don’t they?”
Instinctively he slid his hand over hers as those troubling protective instincts fired his neurons without asking permission. Her poor hand was so cold, her fingers gripping the metal armrest with grim determination.
“Don’t worry, I’ve landed here probably a thousand times. This turn is a normal part of the…” His words trailed off as she slumped in her seat.
He immediately unbuckled himself and supported her head. He held her steady as the plane bumped down on the tarmac.
“Sara.” He patted her cheek gently with his fingertips. “Wake up.”
Her skin was ghostly pale, her soft lashes lowered, lips slightly parted.
Her breath was sweet on his face as he leaned into her. He allowed his lips to brush her skin as he whispered her name once again. Her cheek was the color and texture of a delicate rose petal. So soft under his lips, cool.
His memory tormented him with the image of Sara drinking in the aroma of the roses he’d given her in his office.
Those roses were nothing but clutter to him until that moment—dying things that mocked him with his own mortality. But as she enjoyed their subtle perfume and admired their doomed loveliness, he had seen their beauty in a new light.
Lately he could see many things in a new light.
Sara was so unlike any other woman he had met. A bewitching blend of innocence and experience, candor and caution, she knew when to listen and learn, and when to take the reins and go her own way. A plain little thing? If only she were.
She didn’t stir.
His arm brushed against her breast as he shifted position. The nipple tightened under her silky shirt in response to his touch. He sucked in a breath.
“Sara.”
He stroked a strand of her golden hair away from her forehead, soft as fresh-spun silk. His fingers struggled with the urge to bury themselves in the fall of hair on her neck and his lips pulsed at the sight of hers, slightly parted as if waiting for a kiss.
The kiss of life?
She is breathing, fool. His urge to settle his mouth over hers had nothing to do with medical exigency.
Elan wheeled around as he heard the door to the cabin open.
“I hope the flight was satisfactory, sir. Good Lord, is she asleep?”
“She’s fainted.”
“But she’s breathing?”
Elan nodded as the pilot strode across the cabin and leaned over Sara. His gut tightened as he watched the other man bend low over her body, close enough to enjoy her scent.
“She’ll