The Boss's Surprise Son / Doctoring the Single Dad. Marie Ferrarella

New York.

      Five people and two hours to kill? Not even she was that optimistic. Which meant she’d have to sit next to him with the blood still speeding way too fast through her system. Thank goodness her jacket hid the aroused state of her nipples because if it was cold in here, she didn’t feel it.

      All too soon she was sitting in her seat again, her jacket wrapped around her, staring at the gray hair of the man seated in front of her while Rick focused his attention on the ceiling.

      Not comfortable with being uncomfortable, she said, “Thank you. I was scared and you … helped me. It was very kind of you.”

      He made a choking sound. “Don’t mention it. Please.”

      “I wasn’t propositioning you.”

      He turned his head slowly and pinned her with an intense stare. “What are you going on about now?”

      “The other night at dinner when I asked about your dating rules. I wasn’t propositioning you.” She cleared her throat and dropped her eyes. “In case you think I’ve been throwing myself at you.”

      “I didn’t.” He went back to his contemplation of the ceiling. “I don’t.”

      Instead of reassuring Savannah, his simple dismissal struck a contrary chord. It wasn’t as if there was no chemistry between them. The last few minutes had proved that conclusively.

      “Well, all right then.” She let silence fall between them, telling herself she should be glad to have that worry gone. But she couldn’t help herself. “Why not?”

      Her pique must have sounded in her voice because he sighed.

      “I know when I’m being propositioned. And flirting isn’t your style. You’re too straightforward.”

      “Then why didn’t you tell me the rules?”

      “Because there isn’t a hope in hell you’d ever abide by them.”

      “I don’t know how you can know that,” she retorted, stung.

      “The rules are about establishing personal boundaries to prevent expectations of a deeper relationship from forming. You have personal relationships with everyone.”

      “Not everyone.”

      “Everyone,” he insisted. “Including the mail boy.”

      “He goes to State, which is where my sister attends college. So yeah, we’ve chatted a few times.”

      “What’s his girlfriend’s name?”

      “Amber.”

      “I rest my case.”

      “That only proves I’m a good listener.”

      “I’ve worked with Molly for twelve years and I don’t even know her daughter’s name.”

      “Oh. Well.” His confession stunned her so she had no argument for him. “What was your point again?”

      “That my rules aren’t meant for you.”

      For a moment it sounded as if he meant that his rules didn’t apply to her, and a wild rush of pleasure bloomed in her. She quickly squashed it, first because she knew how he intended what he’d said, and second because he wasn’t for her.

      Anyone who worked with someone for twelve years and didn’t know something as intimate as her daughter’s name was too impersonal for Savannah.

      She could never be with someone who believed that work was more important than people. And that described Rick to a T.

      “You’re right,” she conceded. “Your rules aren’t for me.”

      To Savannah’s relief the trip concluded without further incident and they arrived in London exhausted but ready for the upcoming meeting. After spending fifteen hours practically joined at the thigh with Rick, she was ready to retreat to her own room.

      “Beautiful hotel,” she commented on the way to the elevator, admiring the large leather furnishings and dark woods amidst marble and crystal. “I see now why you were drawn to Crosse International.”

      “What do you mean?” he asked as they boarded the elevator.

      “The ambience. A modern feel in a traditional setting. You know, kind of a comfortable chic.”

      Rick simply nodded and she wondered if he was even listening. Except for business, he’d kept conversation between them to a minimum ever since the embrace on the flight to New York.

      Savannah closed her eyes and sighed at the thought of stretching out in a bed. She was so ready for some alone time.

      “It reminds me of the store back home,” she muttered.

      “What does? “Rick held the elevator door for her to exit.

      “The hotel. Oh, we’re right here.” Savannah had never been so happy to reach a destination. She slid her key card into the slot. “See you in the morning.”

      As she closed her bedroom door, she almost had herself convinced she was pleased by his impersonal attitude.

      Almost.

      So call her crazy. She wanted to have her cake and to eat it, too. Working so closely with Rick these last few days had twisted her emotions in a knot. His drive and dedication challenged her while his intelligence and dry sense of humor made the long hours speed by.

      Not to mention every little touch tested her ability to remain unaffected, from the accidental brush of skin against skin to the warmth of his breath on her cheek as they bent over the proposed contract.

      All in all, her feelings for him weren’t as easy to ignore as she’d hoped. And the awareness growing between them buzzed like static in the air.

      But if he could pretend indifference to the passionate kiss they’d shared, so could she.

       Right.

      Savannah slept like the dead, waking only when her alarm went off. She showered and dressed in her navy suit with the gold scoop-neck blouse. She wanted to look good and the outfit made her feel confident and professional.

      When she entered the parlor suite connecting her room to Rick’s, she found him already sitting at the dining table reading the paper. He’d ordered coffee along with an array of muffins, yogurt and fruit.

      “Good morning,” he greeted her, his glance up from the paper slightly leery as if he feared what she might say, or perhaps it was that she might start chattering.

      He needn’t worry; she liked to ease her way into the day. After helping herself to coffee and fruit, she took a discarded section of his paper and enjoyed the quiet and the view.

      Having the meeting with Crosse in the hotel was convenient, allowing them to leave their room at ten to ten and simply ride the elevator down. But that was the end of her peaceful morning.

      The meeting was the crash and burn they had narrowly missed the day before, or it would be if Savannah didn’t act fast.

      True to form, Rick masterfully presented the numbers and projections, but his confidence and all-business approach came across as arrogant. Albert Crosse, a fit man in his early sixties, flanked by his two sons, listened but seemed restless. And the more Rick pushed, the further apart the two got.

      She tried to catch Rick’s eye more than once, but he ignored her, so she took matters into her own hands.

      “Mr. Crosse.” She spoke into a tense silence. “I was wondering which property you would suggest for the joint venture? “

      Rick shot her a repressive glance. “Ms. Jones, this isn’t the time—”

      “Please.” Crosse waved Rick off. “I don’t mind, though you must remember to call me Albert.”

      “Of