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Something About The Boss…. Yvonne LindsayЧитать онлайн книгу.

Something About The Boss… - Yvonne Lindsay


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worrying that it would trigger a wave of heat and desire. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

      The instant his hand rested against the fabric of her dress, he could sense the warmth of her skin through its fine weave. The effect was more of a tsunami, threatening to swamp him. This was ridiculous, he thought as they were promptly shown to their table. He worked with Sophie every day. She was attractive, he’d always found her so, but he’d never had this kind of trouble keeping his attraction under control before.

      He’d also never been quite this close to her before, never touched her, never smelled the light fragrance that trailed her now—a scent that reminded him of summer and roses and long hot aching nights. Maybe this was the real reason he’d envied his friend his capable assistant. Maybe it had nothing to do with her efficiency and all too much to do with the fact he hadn’t been laid in far, far too long. He’d have to remedy that. For now, though, he had to exert his self-control—and remind himself that Sophie was off-limits.

      They sat at the table, Sophie refusing an aperitif when the waiter offered.

      “Did you want to have a glass of wine with dinner?” Zach asked as he perused the menu once the waiter had left.

      “Sure, just one.”

      “Not much of a drinker, then?”

      “No, I don’t like losing control.”

      For a second there she looked surprised that she’d admitted as much. Zach gave her a nod.

      “I know what you mean. It can bring out the best and the worst in people.”

      She smiled back at him, relief evident in her eyes.

      “I’m glad you understand. Most people just think I’m some kind of control freak.”

      “I’ve seen you at work. I know you’re a control freak,” he teased gently.

      A light flush colored her cheeks and she ducked her head, her short blond hair swinging forward to obstruct his view of her face as she put her attention to studying her menu.

      “Anything in particular take your fancy?” he asked. “I know the steak is always good here.”

      “I’ve never been here before, but it all looks good to me.”

      “Did you want an appetizer?”

      “No, I’ll save myself for dessert.”

      “Ah,” he said, “a sweet tooth, huh? I didn’t know that about you.”

      “I would think there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

      Her tone was slightly quelling, but Zach was nothing if not challenged by her statement. He noticed the exact second she realized the light of that challenge had reflected in his eyes.

      “Not that I expect you to know anything about me, that is,” she said, her voice flustered.

      “I’d like to know more about you,” he answered, closing his menu and laying it on the crisp white linen of the tablecloth. “We work together. There’s no reason why we can’t be friends also.”

      * * *

      Sophie swallowed. There was a determined set to his jaw that she knew from watching him at work meant he wasn’t going to let this go. Why, oh why had she been so careless with her tongue? From the second she’d agreed to this dinner she’d been off balance. Could she be friends with someone like Zach? She very much doubted it; especially considering how unfriendlike she’d felt when he’d ever so slightly touched her while rescuing her dress from the voracious teeth of the zipper.

      She’d all but melted at the unintentional caress, and had had to draw on every last ounce of self-control to stifle the gasp that had threatened to expose her reaction to his touch. No, friendly was the last word she’d ever employ to describe how he made her feel.

      Could she be friends with him, though? Honestly?

      It would be tantamount to torture. But worse, how on earth could she explain that to him? She took a deep breath and let it go slowly before speaking. “I’m pretty boring, really.”

      “You think so?” he answered, cocking his head and locking those startlingly green eyes of his onto her like twin lasers.

      She squirmed a little in her seat, and immediately regretted the action as she became even more aware of the silky softness of her underthings against her skin and of the way the silk lining of her dress whispered against her body.

      “Well, by comparison to you, for example,” she deflected, quite neatly she thought, right up until he let loose with a rich belt of laughter.

      “Oh, Sophie, you couldn’t be more wrong. I’ve been told I live to work. There’s not much more boring than that.”

      Even though he joked at his own expense, she could see the light of an old hurt lingering in the back of his gaze. Compassion flooded her. A man in his early thirties, in his prime both mentally and physically, living to work? It was sad. Something must have shown on her face, because he sobered and reached across the table to grasp her hand.

      “Don’t worry about me,” he said, his voice dropping intimately.

      Oh, she wasn’t worried about him, not exactly. Of more immediate concern was the crazy flip-flop her stomach did as his thumb lightly stroked the inside of her palm. She gently pulled her hand away from his, relief and regret fighting for supremacy as he made no move to stop her.

      “What makes you think I’m worried?” she asked, a note of defense in her voice.

      “You have the most expressive face,” he answered, his eyes not shifting an inch. “It’s easy to see when something’s troubling you.”

      As long as that was all he could see, she thought worriedly. What if he could see the longing she felt every time she looked at him? A man like Zach Lassiter was so far out of her league it wasn’t even funny. But a girl could dream, couldn’t she?

      “There’s not much that troubles me,” Sophie said, closing her menu and placing it in front of her. She could barely concentrate on the culinary delights the pages offered. It wouldn’t matter what she ordered, it was bound to be delicious.

      “But you’re worried about Alex, aren’t you? I can see it on your face every morning when you arrive in the office and he’s not there.”

      “Aren’t you?” she countered. “He’s your friend as well as your colleague. Aren’t you worried about where he is, what might have happened to him?”

      “Sure I am,” Zach replied. “I feel frustrated I can’t do more. The only thing I know I can do is keep all those plates he had spinning from falling down so that when he comes back everything will still be as it should.”

      “Is that why you’re in the office so early each morning and don’t leave until after I do?” Sophie asked without thinking.

      He looked startled at her question and his eyes became slightly shuttered before he replied. “Yeah, there’s a lot going on right now.”

      “Can I take more of your load off you?” she offered.

      “No, of course not. You already are the glue that holds the office together. No one could expect more of you than you already give. In fact, let’s make that the end of the subject of work. We’re here tonight because I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done, not discuss how you can do more.”

      He smiled at that last sentence but Sophie could tell it was a deflection. She’d been wondering what it was that was keeping him in the office for such long hours. He was right, she did keep the office running, and she knew exactly what stage each of Alex’s projects had been at before he’d disappeared. Unless Zach had suddenly become wildly incompetent, he should have been able to handle everything—his own portfolios included—within normal business hours, which made her wonder: What was he really up to?


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