Something about the Boss.... Yvonne Lindsay

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      Her nerves were stretched raw by the end of the week. She and Zach had worked late most nights, he even later than she, and he’d beaten her into the office each morning, as well. Even getting half the chance to check around his office was impossible. Lila certainly would have no worries on that score.

      Sophie knew it was important that they get their pitch perfect for the Manson project. It was something that Alex had started before he had disappeared. It had become a matter of pride for both her and Zach to deliver no less than Alex would have when it came to sourcing investors for Ally Manson’s start-up. The seventeen-year-old prodigy was an IT genius and Alex had been hugely excited by the opportunity to launch her idea of a nationwide computer-assisted home disability network. Astute investors at the outset would be integral to her success and, by association, theirs, as well.

      For all the hard work and long hours they’d been putting in, Sophie was still surprised that Zach was spending so much extra time at the office, and most of it with his door closed. A couple of times she’d entered his office, only to hear him abruptly put his caller on hold or close his laptop so she wouldn’t see what was on his screen. There was something going on that wasn’t quite right, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

      But it wasn’t his hours that had unsettled her the most this week. It was just him. For some stupid reason, Lila’s news had triggered something in her that had begun to blow out of proportion. She’d been able to control her attraction to him without any issues over the past eighteen months, even though they’d started working together more closely since Alex had disappeared. Now, though, the proximity was driving her crazy and affecting her concentration when it was more important than ever that she be on the ball.

      It was as if her hormones had gone into overdrive, as if her friend’s pregnancy had triggered a persistent reminder that Sophie was twenty-eight, painfully single and childless—and that time wouldn’t forever be on her side. Her body remained in a heightened state of awareness even when she wasn’t around Zach—but when she was, it was a hundred times worse.

      He only had to brush past her for every cell in her body to spring to aching, and embarrassingly eager, attention. And her dreams...she didn’t even want to think about them, or about waking—hot, sweaty and wanting in the worst way.

      Several times this week she’d battled with canceling tonight’s dinner but some masochistic inner demon stopped her whenever she found the words to tell him their date was off. But it wasn’t a date, was it? It was a reward, a bonus. He’d made it clear in his invitation he wanted to say thank-you for her work. Technically, she’d earned it. Still, the prospect of an evening in his company was winding her as tight as a spring and her constant battle with herself had worn her defenses ragged.

      Sophie shut down her computer at five-thirty and slid her backup drive into the side pocket of her bag. She planned to have a long, hot, invigorating shower and take her time over getting ready for this evening. She was going to enjoy herself, dammit. He was an attractive, well-educated and erudite male. Tonight was a reward for her hard work. She had earned every second of it and would savor every bite of what would no doubt be a delicious meal.

      “Everything still okay for this evening? I thought I’d pick you up at your place around seven-thirty.”

      Zach’s voice cut through her resolve like a hot knife through butter. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t sit opposite him over an intimate meal and not be driven totally crazy with wanting him. She’d be hopelessly uncomfortable and make some stupid mistake, like letting him know how she felt, and no doubt he’d end up embarrassed for her. It would be a kindness to both of them to avoid being in that situation altogether.

      “About tonight,” she started.

      “I’ve made our reservation for eight,” he continued before stopping to give her a sharp, assessing look. “You’re not pulling out on me, are you? Thinking about dinner at Claire’s tonight has been the only thing that’s kept me going through the TV dinners and takeout all week.”

      “Yes, I... Oh, um, no,” she vacillated. “There’s no need to pick me up. I can meet you there.”

      “What kind of a gentleman would I be if I didn’t collect you? My mama would be ashamed.” He gave her a cheeky smile, then rattled off her address. “That’s right, isn’t it?”

      She gave a brief nod.

      “Good, I’ll see you at seven-thirty.”

      He was gone and out the door before she could say another word. The faint chime of the elevator in the outer reception area galvanized her into action. If she didn’t hurry, she wouldn’t have time to gather her wits together for tonight, let alone present herself respectably.

      Forty-five minutes later, she surveyed the underwear she’d chosen to wear for tonight. Respectable was the last word on her mind. She’d bought the tiny scraps of fabric during a girls’ day out with her friend Mia Hughes, who worked as Alex’s housekeeper. The pale-green silk had looked stunning against her ivory skin and the texture had felt deliciously sinful. The half-cup bra made it the perfect piece to wear beneath the deep-V-necked teal dress she’d bought for a “sometime” special occasion but hadn’t yet had the opportunity to wear. Like the underwear, she’d bought it on impulse—something she rarely did after a childhood of poverty—and tonight seemed perfect to wear it for the first time. Armored with the expensive threads, she would feel like a million dollars—and right now she needed all the strength she could get.

      Sophie luxuriated as long as she could under the stinging-hot spray of her shower, lathering her body twice with the expensive scented shower gel Lila had sent to her on her last birthday and which she saved only for special occasions. As she dragged her washcloth over her breasts, she felt her nipples pebble in anticipation of the evening ahead.

      As conflicted as she felt about tonight’s dinner, she knew one thing very clearly in her mind. She wanted Zach Lassiter with an ache that went straight to her core, and if all she could have of him was this meal together, then she was going to make the most of it.

      By the time she’d toweled off, styled her hair and applied her makeup, she felt almost bulletproof. It felt decadently wicked sliding into the tiny panties and hooking the bra before stepping into her dress and shimmying it up her body. She cast an eye at the clock beside her bed. Darn, she was cutting it close. Sophie reached for the zipper and started to tug it upward while slipping her feet into the killer heels she’d bought with her dress, but the zipper halted in its tracks.

      She squirmed, trying alternately to tug it down or ease it up. Blasted thing was stuck fast and no matter how much she wriggled, it just wouldn’t budge. She tried to ease the gown off her shoulders but quickly gave that up as a bad idea. The dress was designed to be a skintight fit. There was no way she was going to get out of this one easily. What to do, what to do? She gave the tab on the zipper another jiggle, but still no luck.

      This kind of thing did not happen to her. She was the consummate swan, gliding effortlessly across the lake of her life—outwardly, anyway. Control was the foundation of her life. Being at the mercy of something as inane as a stuck zipper was not something she was used to, not from this end, anyway.

      But then again, the past week had been an exercise in levels of frustration she’d never experienced before. She huffed a sigh of exasperation. Zach would be here any minute now and, of course, right on cue, the doorbell rang.

      Three

      Zach pressed the doorbell again. He had said seven-thirty, hadn’t he? He checked the TAG Heuer on his wrist. Yep, he was on time. He stepped back from the door and checked the side window. Lights were on inside and, yes, right there he saw a flash of movement through the crack in the drapes.

      The door slowly opened.

      “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” Sophie said, her light-brown eyes looking bigger and sexier than ever with the smoky makeup she wore.

      “No problem, we have half an hour until our reservation.” He hesitated, waiting