Taming The Boss. Sarah M. Anderson

the night—and the next morning—getting lost in the pleasures of her body.

      It was almost perfect, that little fantasy of his. But he couldn’t just step into Sofia’s life like that. He did not sleep with employees. Hell, he shouldn’t even be fantasizing about them.

      Belatedly, he realized Sofia hadn’t answered his question. He glanced up and caught her staring at him staring at her picture. Trying to act casual, he set it back on the desk. “I’d miss them, too,” he admitted, touching the frame with his finger. “How are they doing with you being at work?”

      “It’s been a little rough,” she said quietly, as if she were afraid someone might overhear her admit to a weakness. She quickly added, “But it’s not impacting my ability to do the job, Mr. Jenner.”

      It should have been the thing he wanted to hear. Yes, he wanted his employees happy, but only because he wanted them to do their jobs to the best of their abilities.

      So why did her words bother him so much?

      He must have scowled because her eyes widened in what looked like alarm.

      “Then what’s bothering you?” he asked.

      She didn’t answer for a moment. Instead, her gaze lingered on his face before drifting down to his shoulders and the rest of his body.

      Eric liked to think he wasn’t a stupid man. He liked women on principle. He’d been enjoying them in one capacity or another since he’d gone away to school.

      So he didn’t think he was misinterpreting the way Sofia took in his body or the way the color on her cheeks deepened as her gaze met his again.

      Interest. Attraction, even. Sofia looked at him as if he was a man she might just like to take a weekend trip with. And his body responded in a primal way. He heard his voice deepen when he said, “You can tell me, Sofia. You know that.”

      Her gaze jerked up to meet his. Her eyes were dark with desire and when she ran her tongue over her bottom lip, he went painfully hard. His body tilted toward hers of its own volition.

      She glanced away, breaking the spell. “I was looking at the itinerary and it says we’re having dinner with the lieutenant governor and a cocktail party with the mayor? I don’t know what to wear…”

      Ah, this was a problem he understood. “Is that all?”

      “No,” she said quietly. Her face turned bright red. “I mean, that’s the only thing that I’m concerned I won’t be prepared for. For the trip. The kids will be fine. We’re only going to be gone two nights, right?”

      “Right. We’ll leave Friday morning and be back Sunday evening.”

      He knew what he needed to do. He’d have to give up his afternoon on the water but for some irrational reason, he found himself looking forward to it. Because this was one way to get her out of those stuffy jackets.

      “Tell you what,” he began. “We’ll take the afternoon off and get you something to wear.”

      Limos, while practically a requirement for billionaires, were damned inconvenient to get around in downtown Chicago. Eric vastly preferred his Ferrari F60—one of only ten made—and he preferred driving himself.

      Which meant Sofia was sitting next to him, clutching the door handle as if her life depended on it as he weaved through traffic on his way to Barneys. Her scent filled the car, warm and light. She smelled so good, like cookies fresh out of the oven. That had to be why he wanted to press his lips against the base of her neck and take a little bite.

      “Macy’s is fine. Even Nordstrom,” she said for the sixth time.

      To Eric’s ears, she sounded almost desperate about it. Which was enough to keep him focused on the task at hand. Barely. “Come on, Sofia. I’m not exactly leading you to the gallows here. It’s just a department store.” They came to a screeching halt at a stoplight and he glanced over at her.

      No, she wasn’t happy. He had to be careful that he didn’t accidentally push her too far. A cocktail dress was no reason to have a panic attack, in his opinion.

      She snorted. “Eric,” she began and he secretly thrilled to hear her use his name again. It bothered him more than he’d realized that she’d called him Mr. Jenner. “Look. I can’t afford anything in this store, okay?”

      Yeah, but he was buying. “Don’t worry about it.”

      The light turned green but, in true Chicago fashion, he had to wait for another four cars to blow through the red before he could go.

      “No,” she said, sounding stronger. “We’re not ten anymore. And don’t you dare turn into your mother, buying me frilly dresses that I’ll never be able to wear again.”

      “First off, how dare you?” he said in mock outrage and she laughed. He grinned wildly at her. This was how he liked her—not cautious or worried, but ready and willing to give him hell. “I’m nothing like my mother, I’ll have you know. Any dress I buy you won’t be frilly.” Even as he said it, his mind began to leap ahead. Sofia had the kind of body that called out for something slinky that cut close to her body, with a deep V in front so he could properly appreciate her…assets.

      “You can’t buy me clothes, Eric,” she said in a quiet voice. “Would you buy Meryl clothes? Or Steve, for that matter?”

      He scowled at a car that cut in front of him. “No, but they already know what’s expected. Besides, if you think I’m going to let you walk into a situation where you’re unprepared, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

      But she was right. He wouldn’t buy clothes for anyone else, wouldn’t give anyone else the afternoon off and take them shopping. Just her.

      He cleared his throat as the car came to a screeching halt outside Barneys. The valet was at Eric’s door in an instant. “Mr. Jenner, good to see you again,” the man said.

      “Norman,” Eric replied, handing over his keys. “Extra gentle with her, okay?” From the passenger seat, Sofia snorted.

      He crossed around the front of the vehicle and opened Sofia’s door. “It won’t be that bad,” he promised, holding out his hand to her. “It might even be fun.”

      Because, oddly, he was having fun. Sofia shot him a dirty look, which made him want to laugh. The few times he’d taken a woman shopping, they’d always simpered and smiled and were so effusive with gratitude that it had seemed less…real, somehow.

      He didn’t want things to be like that with Sofia. He was aware of her in a fundamental way that didn’t make a lot of sense. He knew what she liked and, more than that, he knew what she needed.

      Hell, he knew what he needed—but he was trying to be a better person. In the months since his ex had bailed on their wedding, he’d re-sowed a lot of his wild oats. But he wasn’t a randy kid anymore and meaningless sex was just that—meaningless. He didn’t want to chase a sexual relationship with Sofia if…

      Well, if it didn’t mean anything. Because even if this relationship never became sexual, Sofia meant something to him. More than an office manager, anyway. Much more.

      Then she put her hand in his and the world stopped spinning. He didn’t hear the noise of the streets or feel the heat of the summer sun on the back of his neck. He didn’t see anything but her as she raised her gaze to his. All he saw was Sofia, her hand warm and light in his. Skin to skin, he swore he felt something pass between them. Something that maybe had tugged at his awareness when he’d touched her back through her jacket during her interview. Something that couldn’t be ignored now.

      “Come on,” he said gruffly, pulling her to her feet and tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else.