Bidding on Her Boss Read online

  He stepped closer and kissed her forehead tenderly. “Then we’ll find a way.”

  Her heart squeezed tight. He sounded so determined that she didn’t have the heart to say it didn’t matter. She’d be moving on. Or he would be. One of them would leave; it was the way these things worked.

  But maybe she could enjoy the time they had together? Just because she couldn’t have forever didn’t mean she couldn’t have for now.

  So she decided to ignore the consequences, and instead nodded and smiled and said, “I’d like that.”

  * * *

  Five weeks later, and Faith’s life was going well. Almost too well. When things fell into place this easily, it often preceded a fall, so part of her was on guard. The San Diego job was amazing—she’d become relaxed in front of the camera, and had been getting great viewer feedback on her segments. And spending more time with Dylan was her very favorite part of each day.

  She was just shoving a vegetable lasagna in the oven when her cell rang. Dylan was due in about half an hour for dinner, so it was probably him letting her know he was leaving the office. Since the first trip to San Diego, they’d fallen into a pattern of spending more time together, usually at his place. They’d order takeout, maybe watch a movie, then make love, and she’d slip out and head home afterward, determined to keep her vow of not getting used to sleeping next to his warm body.

  Tonight was the first time she’d agreed to have him visit her apartment. Things had been going so well, she’d let her guard slip and agreed when he’d suggested it. Her stomach was a tight ball of nerves as she wondered how she’d cope when she couldn’t leave during the night. Which, of course, was probably why Dylan had suggested it...

  She pulled the oven mitts off and grabbed her cell, but it was an unknown number on the screen.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, is that Faith Crawford?”

  Seven minutes later, Faith disconnected the call and fell onto the sofa.

  She’d just been offered a job. A dream job. A nationally syndicated gardening variety show in New York had been looking for a florist to add to their team of gardeners and landscapers, and they’d seen her work on the San Diego show. Her role would be to teach people about flower arranging in a regular segment, but also to travel with a producer and record stories on high-profile floral arrangements—the ones found in the White House, in cathedrals, at big events. She’d be paid to study up close the very designs she hoped to be making one day, make contacts and share her love of flowers with a huge audience.

  Yet she’d hesitated. The producer had given her a day to think about it—if she wasn’t interested, they needed to know soon so they could approach someone else.

  The job was full-time and in New York. She’d have to move across the country. Leave Dylan. A white-hot pain pierced her chest and she had trouble drawing a breath. Could she do it? It was unthinkable. But what if she turned the job down and stayed? When this thing with Dylan fizzled out, she’d be left without him and the dream job. And in the meantime, she’d still be working for him, so they’d have to keep sneaking around so no one guessed they were breaking company rules.

  Outside, his car pulled up. She stood, tucking her hair firmly behind her ears and trying to pull herself together. What would she say to him? She’d never been more torn in her life. She might love Dylan, but her career had been her constant, the rock in her life. She had to take the incredible job offer in New York. To do anything less would be cheating herself and banking on a dream that could never come true.

  She pulled open the front door and was confronted by the only man who’d ever touched her heart. He leaned down and kissed her and she sank into him, trying to create a memory, because she had no idea how he would react once she told him.

  * * *

  When they finished dinner, Faith gathered the plates and headed for the kitchen, almost as if she was escaping. Dylan followed, determined to find out what was on her mind, since she’d avoided his prodding while they ate.

  “You’ve been distracted all through dinner,” he said, standing behind her at the sink and massaging her shoulders. “Which is a shame, because that was the best vegetable lasagna I’ve had—and I’m not sure you even tasted it as you ate.”

  She turned in his arms, searching his gaze. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “I’m right here.” He smiled indulgently and smoothed a bright red curl back from her face.

  “I had a job offer today.” Her gaze didn’t waver—she was watching for his reaction.

  He rubbed her arms up and down, wanting to reassure her. He didn’t own her. The businessman side of him hoped she’d stay at Hawke’s Blooms, but the man in a relationship with her just wanted her to be happy.

  “I’m not surprised. You’ve been doing high-profile work—one of our competitors was bound to headhunt you at some stage.”

  “It isn’t one of your competitors,” she said, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth.

  He raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Who was it?”

  She named the show and he let out a long whistle. “Isn’t that recorded in New York?”

  “The job is located there. I’d have to move.”

  His gut clenched as her words hit home. “What did you tell them?”

  “That I’d think about it.” She looked at the counter as she spoke.

  He withdrew his hands and dug them into his pockets, not liking where this was headed. “And have you thought?”

  She hesitated, then said, “There are so many factors to consider. I don’t know what to do.”

  He let out a relieved breath and pulled her against his chest. “If you’re not sure, then don’t take it.”

  “Why?” she asked, her voice partly muffled by his shirt.

  “I think we have something special here. Between us. If you stay, we can see where it goes.” In fact, this conversation had been something of a wakeup call. He’d been happy enough going along, spending time together, making love when they could, but now that the possibility of separation had been raised, he was completely aware of how much she meant to him. He wasn’t letting her go.

  “Dylan,” she began, but he cut her off.

  “Don’t decide just yet.” He leaned in and placed a trail of kisses along the line of her jaw. “Give us a chance.” He moved to her earlobe. He tugged it gently with his teeth and then pulled it into his mouth. She gasped and he smiled against her skin. What they had was too strong—she wouldn’t leave him. And he’d never leave her.

  Digging his fingers into her wild curls, he tipped her head back and claimed her mouth. Even though it had been less than twenty-four hours, it felt like forever since he’d kissed her, and he made up for the lost time. Weeks of having her in his bed at night hadn’t slaked his desire for her; if anything, they had increased it. Whenever his mind wandered at work, it was always Faith it went to. The sound of her laugh, her dimples, the warmth of her mouth on him, the way her hips moved when she walked.

  Her arms snaked around his waist, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt at the back, holding him in place. He loved the way she wanted him as fiercely as he wanted her.

  He spun them around, away from the counter, and pressed her against the wall, kissing her, relishing the feel of her curves against him. He hooked a hand under her knee and lifted, pulling her pelvis closer, and he groaned at the delicious pressure. No woman had ever affected him this deeply or made him want this hungrily.

  When her fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt, fumbling in her haste, his heart beat so hard against his ribs that she must have felt it under her hands. Finally she made it to the last button and pushed aside his cotton shirt, spreading her palms over his chest. It was as if her hands were magic; everywhere she touched she left a path of sparks, drawing him further under her spell.

 
; Her top had a bow behind her neck, and when he pulled the end, the knot came undone. She wasn’t wearing a bra, so as he peeled the front of her top down, he bared her breasts to his gaze. He cupped them with reverent hands, lifting them to meet his mouth, making her writhe against him and murmur his name. His blood heated, his pulse raced, he was helpless and she was everything.

  As she undid the top button on his trousers and dipped her hand inside his pants and encircled him, he hissed out a breath between his teeth, then again as she slowly moved her hand up and down. He dropped his head to her shoulder. He was hers. No question, she owned him. After tonight, he’d make sure they were always together.

  Suddenly unable to wait a moment longer, he grabbed the condom from his pocket and took off his trousers and boxers before doing the same with her underwear, not bothering to remove her skirt, just lifting it out of the way. She took the condom from him and rolled it down his length, wrapping a leg around his waist again. This time he lifted her hips, supporting her weight so that she could wrap her other leg around him as well, and then brought her down on top of him. Her sharp intake of breath mirrored his, and he paused to take in the beauty of the moment, of the sensations she evoked in his body and in his heart.

  Tensing her legs, she moved up and slowly down again, and he whispered raggedly, “I love you.”

  The only sign that she’d heard was that her movements became faster, and he met her stroke for stroke, telling her how beautiful she was, loving the way the flesh of her bottom filled his hands. He grew more frantic, loving her, feeling the rising tension in his entire body.

  He was near the edge, so close to falling over, but he held on, hovering, unwilling to go alone. He reached down between them, found her most sensitive spot and caressed until she exploded, moaning his name, contracting around him so tightly that he couldn’t hold a moment longer. He let go, calling out the name of the woman he loved.

  * * *

  When Faith woke the next morning, she was alone. She reached out to feel the other side of her bed and found it rumpled but cold. Rising quickly, she slipped on a robe and padded through the apartment, finding no trace of Dylan.

  A small part of her was relieved. She’d made a decision during the night to take the job and didn’t think she could face telling him just yet. She knew that was cowardly—of course it was—but how could she face the man she loved and tell him she was leaving? Instead, when they’d made love, she’d said goodbye with her touch. In every silent way she could.

  Maybe tomorrow, or once she was packed and her flight was booked, she would drop in to see him and try to explain. Maybe by then she’d have found the words.

  She pulled on some clothes and dragged the boxes she always kept on standby out of the hall closet. It wouldn’t take long—being wary of putting down roots meant she liked to be ready to pick up and travel when the need struck, so packing was easy.

  She was on her living room floor, surrounded by sealed and half-packed boxes, when Dylan returned. In one hand he held a takeout tray with two coffees and a pastry bag, and in the other, a bunch of flowers. But his expression...his expression was going to haunt her dreams.

  * * *

  Dylan froze on the threshold to Faith’s apartment, feeling as if he’d been sucker punched.

  When he’d woken this morning, he’d been so damn filled with love and optimism, all he could think about was waking like this every morning. Of spending the rest of his life with her. He’d slipped out without waking her to hunt down the perfect engagement ring. He knew it couldn’t be a standard diamond for Faith, and he’d found a purple diamond in a platinum setting in a window and convinced the owner to open early for him.

  He’d been on cloud nine, seeing a rosy future in front of them, seeing everything he’d never known he wanted all wrapped up in one gorgeous woman. Faith. Telling her he loved her last night had felt right, deep in his soul. She might not have said the words back, but he was in no doubt that she loved him. Not after the way she’d been touching him last night.

  He’d hoped she’d still be asleep when he got back with breakfast and the ring, but it had taken a little longer than he’d planned. Still, the last thing he’d expected to see was her getting ready to flee.

  Again.

  Especially after spending a night together that had rocked his world. It was as if all the air in the room—in his life—had been sucked out, leaving him in a vacuum.

  “Going somewhere?” he asked mildly.

  “Uh, yes.”

  He took a step inside but couldn’t bring himself to sit down or even cross the room. Not when she was surrounded by those damn packing boxes. “You’re taking the job, aren’t you?”

  “It’s an incredible opportunity.” Her voice was laced with guilt, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. It seemed that they weren’t on the same page about this relationship at all.

  “When did you decide?” he asked, not 100 percent sure he wanted to know the answer. “Just now, or had you already made up your mind last night?”

  She was silent, which pretty much answered his question. He wanted to throw up.

  “So you’d made up your mind and were obviously hoping to skip out this morning while I wasn’t looking. Were you planning on ever telling me? Or perhaps the plan was a quick call from New York after you’d arrived?”

  “I was definitely going to talk to you.” She finally looked up and met his gaze, and he could see that much was true. Shame about the rest.

  “So,” he said and drew in a breath, steeling himself, “telling you last night that I love you doesn’t mean anything to you?”

  “Of course it does, but love isn’t enough, Dylan. It’s not steadfast.” She moistened her lips, her beautiful brown eyes pained. “You have to understand that my career is the only thing I’ve ever been able to count on.”

  Suddenly Dylan was angry. She was giving up because she didn’t think she could count on them? On him? He dropped the flowers on the coffee table and slid the takeout tray down beside the bouquet. Then he reached into his pocket, found the little velvet box, held it up and opened it.

  “How’s this for steadfast?” he said, forcing each word out past a tight jaw. “I was willing to commit my life to you.”

  She flinched. “I’m sorry. But you say that now—”

  “I said it last night, too,” he pointed out, setting a clenched fist on his hip.

  She brushed at a tear as it slid down her cheek. “Thing is, I believe you. I promise I do. But once the novelty wears off, you’ll be gone. It was never going to last.”

  “Explain that to me,” he said, not caring that his exasperation was coming through in his tone. “Explain how you know what I’ll do.”

  She collected her hair up in her hands, and then let it drop as she sat back on her heels. “One thing I’ve learned is that love is fickle. All my life I’ve seen the proof of people’s attraction to the next bright, shiny thing. I was never enough. My aunt who loved me for a year then gave me up when she got pregnant. My mother who loved me but was always leaving for the next big adventure. My grandparents who loved me but were always relieved when someone else took me in. My father who loved me but wouldn’t arrange a job on land so I could live with him. You might love me, Dylan,” she said, her voice cracking on his name, “but something else will come along, snag your attention and drag you away. I will never allow myself to be in the position of thinking I’m not enough again.”

  He’d known she had a rough childhood and that made trust difficult for her, but he couldn’t believe she thought their relationship wasn’t worth fighting for. Wasn’t worth giving a chance. She didn’t think he was worth taking a risk on. Weariness suffused every cell in his body.

  “You know, you say people leave, but you’re the one leaving. It’s always you leaving, either sneaking out of my place after we make
love, or leaving early from the launch, or going to the flower market at two in the morning.”

  Then he dropped the ring on the hall stand and glanced over his shoulder. “Ever heard the phrase ‘Be careful what you wish for’? You’ve been expecting me to leave since day one, and here I go.”

  He walked out the door and across the small courtyard to his car without once looking back.

  Twelve

  Faith sat on a plastic chair at the window of her tiny New York apartment, chin in her hands as she looked down at the street below. She’d been here for only two weeks, so it wasn’t strange that it didn’t feel like home yet...though when had anyplace ever felt like home?

  She loved the new job, but deep in her soul she’d been numb from the moment she’d arrived. No, before. She’d always been alone, but this loneliness was different—it was a yearning for one person. A tall, flirtatious man with sparkling green eyes and hair like polished mahogany.

  Since she’d learned the hard lessons about life as a child, she’d always been emotionally self-sufficient, but something had changed. She’d developed relationships. She’d never let a person get as close to her, under her guard, as Dylan had. But it wasn’t just him—she’d become friends with Jenna.

  Jenna had called to congratulate her when she’d heard about the job, and they’d kept in touch since she moved. They’d spent a lot of time together while organizing the launch of the Ruby Iris, but at the time, Faith had thought of them as colleagues working together. Now she realized what Jenna had known then—they’d become friends.

  Somewhere along the line, Faith had learned to believe in people again.

  Desperate to hear a friendly voice, she picked up her cell and dialed Jenna’s number.

  Jenna picked up on the first ring, her lilting voice a little breathless. “Hi, Faith.”

  “Is this a bad time?” Faith asked. She was acutely aware that Jenna had two babies and her time was often not her own.

  “Now is good. We’re out back in the double stroller, walking along the flower beds. As long as I keep pushing them, I can talk to you until snack time.”