Midnight Under the Mistletoe

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He led the way into the library that held shelves of books from floor to ceiling. A huge portrait in a gilt frame hung above the fireplace and she looked at a stern-faced man with prominent cheekbones, straight gray hair, mustache and beard.

“I can’t see that you look like him in any manner at all.”

“No, I don’t think so either.” He gestured across the room. “Over there are portraits of my paternal grandfather and my dad.”

She crossed the room. “You don’t look like them either.”

“If I have a resemblance to any forebears, it’s my maternal grandfather. People say I look like him. I don’t see it much myself except for the hair. No pictures of him here.”

She returned to the fireplace to study the picture, thinking about the letter she had just read. “I’d think you’d want to read every letter in that box.”

“I’m leaving that to you.”

She turned to find him looking at her intently, a look that was hot and filled with desire, giving her heart palpitations. In spite of his injured foot, he looked strong and fit. Muscled arms, broad shoulders, flat belly. She stepped toward the door.

“We better go back and let me start reading them,” she said, heading out of the room, aware that he fell into step beside her. “You said you have brothers. Do they have ranches around here or do all of you gather here?”

“Both. I’m not a rancher, so I’ve probably spent the least time here, but we were here plenty growing up. Plenty to suit me. I’m not a cowboy and not a rancher and my brothers can ride the horses. No, thanks. Will’s ranch adjoins this one. Caroline loves it there, so they go quite often. Ryan’s ranch is farther away. He’s a cowboy through and through. Maybe it’s because he spent too much time out here with Granddad.”

“So will your brothers come here this week for Thanksgiving?” she asked, lost in thoughts about her own family’s plans. She was taking a corn casserole and a dessert for everyone.

“No. Ryan’s with a friend and Will and family are going to his home in Colorado.”

“I can’t imagine not being with family, but if you’re with close friends or a close friend and family, that works,” she said, glancing at him to see a grin. “You’re staying out here alone, aren’t you?” she blurted, aghast to think his brothers were going their own way and Zach had no plans. She started to invite him to her house, but she remembered that her predecessors had not lasted more than a few days at best on this job. If she invited him and then he dismissed her, it would be awkward.

“You’re staring, Emma, and you have pity written all over your face,” he said. “A new experience in my adult life. I can’t remember anyone feeling sorry for me for any reason before.”

Heat flushed her cheeks, and she forced a faint smile, hoping the pitying expression would vanish. They had stopped walking and were gazing at each other. He placed a hand on her shoulder lightly. The feathery touch with anyone else would have been impersonal, but with Zach, it was startling.

“It’s my choice,” he said. “Stop worrying.”

“Zach, you can come to our house,” she said, changing her mind about inviting him because it was sad to think of him being alone. “My family would be happy to have you. We’ve always invited friends who would have been alone on Thanksgiving, so I know my family will welcome you.”

His grin widened. “Thank you for the very nice invitation, but I rarely notice holidays and don’t celebrate them.”

“Is this a religious thing?” she asked.

“No. It’s a ‘my thing.’ As I mentioned, my brothers and I grew up in boarding schools, and sometimes we were left there on holidays because our folks were in Europe or heaven knows where,” he explained. While he talked, she was acutely conscious of his hand still lightly on her shoulder. His gaze lowered to her lips and she could barely get her breath. It took an effort to pay attention to what he was saying. “None of us care much about holidays. Will is changing because of Caroline and his wife, Ava. I’m usually not in the country on Thanksgiving, but this year spending it alone here on the ranch is what I choose to do. Thank you anyway for your invitation,” he said, turning to walk again.

Still physically too aware of him at her side, she strolled beside him. The hot attraction that obviously affected both of them tainted this job. If she got to stay, could she keep their relationship impersonal? She didn’t think it would be much of a problem.

This loner, besides being her boss, was not the man to be attracted to. How could he possibly want to spend Thanksgiving alone? Even though he came from enormous wealth, he must have had a cold, lonely childhood. He seemed a solitary person who stayed out of the limelight and worked in distant places where he was unknown. She had seen pictures of his brother in the newspapers and in Texas magazines, but never Zach. He clearly kept a low profile.

As they entered the office, she parted with him and went to her desk to try to concentrate on work.

Over an hour later Zach received a phone call. She continued with her work, but by the time half an hour had passed and he had had three calls, she realized there must be a problem somewhere. He sat with his back to her, his feet propped up on a nearby computer table. The room was large enough that she couldn’t hear exactly what he said. When she caught snatches of a few words, she guessed the language was German.

She worked until five to get everything done he had given her. He was still engrossed in phone calls when she shut off her computers and left the room. In her room, she spent over an hour reading and replying to emails from family and close friends before going to the kitchen for dinner.

Thinking of the loner in the office the entire time.

Lowering his feet Zach had swiveled in his chair and watched Emma leave the room, but his many phone calls had demanded his focus. Now, he glanced down at a letter on his desk she had typed. “I’ll make the call at 8:00 in the morning your time and see if we can’t get this worked out quickly,” he said into the phone. “Right, Todd. I’ll let you know. It’s too late there to call anyone now.” He replaced the receiver, glanced at his watch and sighed.

His cell phone indicated a call and he answered because it was Will.

“Can you talk now?” Will asked.

“Yes. We’ve had problems on a job and I’ve been on and off the phone for the past two hours.”

“I’ve gotten a busy signal once. How’s it going with the new secretary or is it too early to tell?”

Zach glanced again at the letter on the desk. “She’s a good secretary. I don’t think she’ll last though. She’s totally wound into her family in Dallas, which is several hours away from here, probably too far. They live, breathe, eat and stay together most of the time.”

“Just say the word and I’ll get someone else sent out.”

“Not yet,” Zach said, thinking about Emma’s green eyes. “She’s efficient. She’s sentimental—you’d think these old letters were worth a million the way she views them. She can’t keep from telling me I shouldn’t shred them.”

Will laughed. “Another one telling you what to do?”

“No, not like the first one. Emma’s just so into families, she can’t understand that I’m not treasuring every word from our ancestor. He was probably a tough old guy, even tougher than Dad. Why would I treasure every word he uttered?”

“You’re a little more irreverent than most descendants would be. I’m a little curious about them, so I want to read a few and see what’s in those boxes.”

“You can have them, Will.”

“No. You volunteered. You just need the right secretary to help you. Sounds to me as if you don’t have a good fit yet and I should send someone.”

“No. She’s an excellent secretary. I’ve piled on the work and she’s done it accurately and quickly. I don’t want to dump her because she likes the box of old letters.”

“True. At least she may really read them.”

“Oh, she’ll read them all right,” Zach said, smiling as he remembered Emma poring over the one, her head bent. Her red hair held gold strands and a healthy shine. She had it pinned up, but strands spilled free and indicated long hair. Long hair and long legs.

“We’ll leave in a few weeks for Colorado. If you change your mind and want to come along, or to spend Thanksgiving with us, let me know.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine. My new secretary was a little shocked when she learned I’m spending the holiday alone. She invited me to join her family.”

There was a moment’s pause. “You two are getting to know each other.”

“How can we avoid it? Remember, we work all day together and there are just the two of us here except when we see Rosie or Nigel.”

“If you were Ryan, I’d ask if she’s good-looking, but I’ve heard you talk too often about avoiding dating employees.”

“You and I have agreed that’s a complication no one needs in his life. I don’t want any part of that kind of trouble,” he said, thinking about her full lips and hearing a hollow sound to his words. “There’s no need to bring emotions into the workplace—at least the kind of emotions that a relationship would create. Common sense says no way,” he added, more to himself than Will.

“It worked with Ava.”

“Yeah, but you hired her to work with Caroline—that was different from an office situation and you know it. It’s not going to happen here. I get looks from her like I’m from another planet with my feelings about holidays, families and memorabilia.”

Will laughed. “I can imagine that one. There are times you get those looks from me. Ryan is the baby brother and he accepts whatever we do.”

“Yeah. I do get those looks from you, but I don’t know why because you’re like me about sentiment. Or at least you were until Ava and Caroline. Especially Caroline. They’ve mellowed you until I hardly know you.”

“You ought to try it sometime,” Will answered lightly. “I’ll talk to you before we leave for Colorado.”

“Sure, Will. Thanks for the invitation. Tell Ava I said thanks.” Zach ended the call and swung his chair around to look out the window without really seeing anything outside. Envisioning Emma, he wanted to be with her again. He had just blown the sensible course. He should have let Will send out another secretary, yet how could he get rid of Emma when her secretarial skills were excellent and she wanted the job? He couldn’t send her back because of the steamy chemistry between them.

“Keep it strictly business,” he whispered, lecturing himself. Stay away from her except when working. Don’t share lunches or dinners or anything else outside of the office and work. Willpower. Resoluteness.

Thinking of the problems on the project in Maine, the buildings the company had bought and intended to replace with one large building, a parking garage and a landscaped area, he tossed down a pen and returned to thinking about Emma. He wanted to have dinner with her, but hadn’t he just resolved to avoid her? He didn’t want to get involved with an employee, especially a sentimental homebody who could barely leave her family and especially an employee living under the same roof with him. It could complicate his life beyond measure to have her expect some kind of commitment from him and to have rumors flying at the office. He didn’t want tears and a scene when he told her goodbye. Thoughts of any of those things gave him chills.

She didn’t look like a sentimental homebody, at least his idea of one. Her full red lips, the mass of red hair that was caught up on her head hinted at a wild, party-loving woman. The reactions she had to just a look from him implied a sensuous, responsive lover.

“Damn,” he said aloud. Taking a deep breath, he yanked papers in front of him.

Wiping his brow, he leaned over his desk and tried to concentrate on tasks at hand. After two minutes he shoved aside papers and stood. He should send her away, get her out of his life, but the chemistry he wanted to avoid made it impossible to think about giving her up. No matter what he’d just told himself, he wanted to be with Emma—what could a dinner hurt?

With a glance at his watch, he saw he had probably already missed her and a hot dinner from Rosie. Annoyed he would have to eat alone, he headed to the kitchen, hoping Emma was still there.

His disappointment when she wasn’t bothered him even more than her absence. Since when had he started to look forward to being with her so much?

Three

The evening was quiet and after dinner Emma stayed in her room. She had eaten alone, experiencing a mix of relief and disappointment that Zach hadn’t appeared. It was wiser that he had not eaten with her. The less they socialized, the better, even though there was a part of her that wanted to see him.

On Friday, he appeared wrapped in business and he kept his distance. That afternoon, he told her to leave at one so she could get to Dallas ahead of the traffic.

“Thanks,” she replied, smiling broadly. “I’ll accept that offer.” Shutting down her computer, she was on the road away from the ranch twenty minutes later. They had gotten through the first week, so she must have the job. They also had kept a distance between them. He had been professional, quiet, but there was no way she could feel she had imagined the chemistry simmering just below the surface. Any time they locked gazes, it flared to life, scalding, filled with temptation, an unmistakable attraction.

Now she could believe rumors she had always heard that he never dated employees, never getting emotionally entangled with anyone on his staff, never even in the most casual way. She intended to keep that professional, remote relationship with him and this job would be a plus on her resume.

If she could just keep from dreaming about him at night—with a sigh, she concentrated on her driving and tried to stop thinking about Zach Delaney. Instead, she reflected on the fun she always had at home with the family and with her nieces and nephews.

Monday when she returned to work, she dressed in jeans, a T-shirt sprinkled with bling, and sneakers. Zach had said jeans were fine and that’s what he had worn every workday. Even so, she felt slightly self-conscious when she entered the office.

He was already there and looked up, giving her a thorough glance.

“You said jeans are acceptable,” she stated.

“Jeans are great,” he said in a tone that conveyed a more personal response. “Yours look terrific,” he added, confirming what she thought.

“Thank you,” she answered, sitting behind her desk and starting to work.

“This afternoon I’m going to Dallas to see my doctor. Hopefully, I can toss this crutch when I come home.”

“You can return to your traveling?”

“How I wish. No. He’s already told me that I’ll have to wear this and continue to stay off my foot except to get around the house. Still, it’ll be an improvement.”

“Sure,” she replied.

He returned to whatever he had been doing and they worked quietly the rest of the morning. When she left for lunch, he stayed in the office. In the afternoon, she read more Delaney letters, occasionally glancing at the great-great-grandson, continuing to wonder how he could care so little about his history.