Seduced By The Boss. Kate Hardy

what was in her head without thinking it through. Not to mention the way she’d been there for her sister; Bella Faraday had a good heart. He really liked that about her.

      But he still shouldn’t have let things go this far between them. They were going to have to talk, really talk, and redraw the ground rules. Because Bella was a great designer, perfect for Insurgo, and Tarquin would have his guts for garters if she left the company just because Hugh hadn’t been able to keep his hands—or anything else, for that matter—to himself.

      He lay there, trying to think what to say. Even though they’d both agreed that last night was a one-off, would she feel differently this morning? And, if she did, how was he going to handle it?

      He knew that Bella wasn’t like Jessie. But he just didn’t trust his own judgement any more. He didn’t want to take the risk of getting involved with anyone, so it was easier not to start something that was likely to end up in a mess.

      Eventually he became aware that Bella’s breathing was no longer deep and even, and her body was slightly tense. Clearly she was awake.

      Was she, too, remembering what had happened?

      Did she, too, think about turning round and kissing him hello, the way he wanted to kiss her right now?

      Or was she full of regrets and awkwardness and embarrassment?

      Right now, he didn’t have a clue. But he knew he was going to have to do the right thing rather than ignoring the rest of the world and making love with her all over again. They had to talk.

      ‘Bella?’ he whispered.

      ‘Uh-huh.’ She sounded worried.

      He resisted the urge to kiss her bare shoulder. No matter how much he wanted to touch her, taste her, he had to keep himself in check. Carefully, he withdrew his arms from round her. Odd how cold it made him feel. ‘I think we need to talk.’

      ‘Uh-huh,’ she said again, and turned to face him. ‘OK. I’ll say it first. I know we agreed that last night was a one-off, but it really shouldn’t have happened at all.’

      Relief coursed through him. If she knew it, too, then it meant that things weren’t going to be awkward between them. They could still work together. He wouldn’t have to find another designer.

      He tried to ignore the fact that another emotion underpinned the relief. It was ridiculous to feel disappointed, especially as he didn’t want to risk starting another relationship. He knew he was better off on his own, concentrating on his business.

      ‘Last night was last night,’ he said.

      ‘Exactly. You know the Vegas principle?’

      ‘The Vegas principle?’ he asked, not quite following her train of thought.

      ‘You know—what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,’ she explained.

      ‘Ah. Yes.’

      ‘I think we should apply that to last night,’ she said carefully.

      He agreed. Completely. ‘So you’re not going to resign because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself?’ he asked.

      ‘And you’re not going to sack me because I didn’t stick to our plan?’

      Clearly she didn’t want to leave her job, either. Which was a very, very good thing. ‘Apart from the fact that I don’t have any grounds to sack you, you’re good at your job. Tarquin would kill me if I made you leave.’

      Was it his imagination, or was there a flash of disappointment in her eyes?

      He wasn’t going to analyse that too closely. Much better to let each other off the hook instead than to get tied up with all the complications. And he definitely shouldn’t tell her that he didn’t want her to leave because he liked having her around. That’d be way too much pressure on both of them.

      ‘What happened last night—we don’t talk about it ever again. And it’s not going to be repeated,’ she said.

      ‘Agreed,’ he said.

      She took a deep breath. ‘So we stick to the plan from here on, and I’m back to playing Miss Ditzy this morning.’

      ‘Uh-huh.’ Even though he knew she wasn’t very good at it. Yesterday, although she’d tried, her true self had just shone through the play-acting. And his family had responded in kind: warmth generating warmth.

      If only he’d met her years ago. When he was still able to trust. But there was no point in wishing for something he couldn’t have.

      ‘What’s the agenda for today?’ she asked. ‘You promised me a guided tour of the house.’

      And he’d make very sure that the orangery wasn’t part of that. Because then he’d remember how it had been last night and he’d want to kiss her again. It would be very stupid to put himself back in the path of temptation. ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘and everyone’s going for a walk between breakfast and lunch.’

      ‘I have a really unsuitable outfit for that,’ she said. ‘Totally impractical spike-heeled mules that I can totter about in.’

      ‘They sound perfect.’ He paused. ‘I guess we ought to, um, get up and face everyone downstairs for breakfast. I’ll, um, go next door and have a shower.’ Even though part of him would much prefer staying here and having a shower with her.

      ‘Uh-huh.’

      Was she relieved or disappointed that he was going? He hadn’t a clue. And he wasn’t going to ask. ‘I’ll knock for you when I’m ready, shall I?’

      This time she definitely looked relieved. He winced inwardly. Did she really think that he’d leave her to find her own way through the house, and then face his family on her own? Or maybe that was the way her ex had treated her. Again, he couldn’t really ask. Not without maybe ripping open some scars, and he didn’t want to hurt her.

      ‘See you in a bit, then,’ she said. And then she closed her eyes.

      Was she feeling shy? Or was she trying to spare his blushes?

      He climbed out of bed, pulled on his boxer shorts, grabbed the rest of his clothes—and then made the mistake of glancing back at the bed. She looked so cute, lying there. Warm and sweet. He almost dropped his clothes back on the floor and climbed back in beside her again. Especially as he remembered last night so clearly. Touching her. Tasting her. The look of sheer pleasure in her eyes just before she’d fallen apart. The soft little cry she’d made when she’d climaxed in his arms.

      No, no and absolutely no.

      Common sense won—just—and he managed to get back to his own room without bumping into anyone in the corridor.

      Showering helped to restore a little more of his common sense, once he’d turned the temperature of the water right down. Once he’d dressed, he stripped the bed, threw everything into his case, and knocked on Bella’s door.

      ‘Come in,’ she called.

      She was just closing the lid of her suitcase, and she was wearing a strappy top and the shortest pair of denim cut-offs he’d ever seen. Her legs went on for ever. And his tongue felt as if it was glued to the roof of his mouth.

      It grew even worse when she gave a little wiggle. Her bottom had the most perfect curve, and it made him want to touch her again.

      ‘Is this ditzy enough?’ she asked with a grin, seemingly oblivious to the desire coursing through him.

      ‘Uh—yeah.’ And now he sounded like a total troglodyte. He didn’t want her to guess the effect she had on him, particularly as he knew she wasn’t doing it deliberately. Bella wasn’t a game-player. ‘I need some coffee,’ he gabbled wildly. ‘You know I’m not a morning person.’

      ‘Coffee sounds good. Would you mind, um, showing me where I can make some?’

      ‘There’s