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His Christmas Acquisition
His Christmas Acquisition
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His Christmas Acquisition

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‘Okay.’ She looked at him evenly. ‘I’m surprised that this is the first time one of your girlfriends has seen fit to storm into your office and give you a piece of her mind. I thought it was funny, so I laughed. But quietly. And I wouldn’t have laughed if I had left your office when I had wanted to, but you gestured to me to stay put. So I did. So you can’t blame me for reacting.’

Ryan sat up and looked at her intently. ‘See? Now isn’t it liberating to speak your mind?’

‘I know you think it’s funny to confuse me.’

‘Am I confusing you?’

Jamie went bright red and tightened her lips. ‘You don’t seem to have any morals or ethics at all when it comes to women!’ she snapped. ‘I’ve worked with you for well over a year and you must have had a dozen women in that time. More! You play with people’s feelings and it doesn’t seem to bother you at all!’

‘So there’s a lurking tiger behind that placid face of yours,’ he murmured.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. You asked me for my opinion, that’s all.’

‘You think I use women? Treat them badly?’

‘I …’ She opened her mouth to tell him that she had never thought anything whatsoever about the way he treated women, not until this very moment, but she would have been lying. She realised with some dismay that she had done plenty of thinking about Ryan Sheppard and his out-of-hours relationships. ‘I’m sure you treat them really well, but most women want more than just expensive gifts and fun and frolics for a few weeks.’

‘What makes you say that? Have you been chatting to any of my girlfriends? Or is that what you would want?’

‘I haven’t been chatting to your girlfriends, and we’re not talking about me,’ Jamie told him sharply.

Her colour was up and for the first time he noticed the sultry depths of her eyes and the fullness of her mouth. She was either blissfully unaware of her looks or else had made a concerted effort to sublimate them, at least during working hours. Then he wondered how he had never really noticed these little details about her before. It occurred to him that they had rarely, if ever, had the sort of lengthy conversation that required eye-to-eye contact. She had managed to avoid the very thing every single woman he met sought to instigate.

‘I treat the women I date incredibly well and, more importantly, I never give them any illusions about their place in my life. They know from the start that I’m not into building a relationship or working towards a “happy family” scenario.’

‘Why?’

‘Come again?’

‘Why,’ Jamie repeated in a giddy rush, ‘are you not into building relationships or doing the happy-family thing?’

Ryan looked at her incredulously. Yes, he always encouraged an outspoken approach, both within the working environment and outside it. He prided himself on always being able to take what was said to him. He might choose to totally ignore it, of course, and did a great majority of the time, but never let it be said that he wasn’t open to alternative opinions.

Except who had ever asked him such an outlandishly personal question before?

‘Not everyone is.’ But he was keen to bring the conversation to an end now. ‘And, now that the cabaret show’s over, I think it’s time we get back to work.’

Jamie gave a little shrug and instantly resumed her professionalism. ‘Okay. I didn’t manage to find the time to look at those reports about the software company you’re thinking of investing in. Shall I go and do that now? I can have everything ready for you by this afternoon.’

So, to Ryan’s vague dissatisfaction, the day kicked off the way it always did: with Jamie working wonders with her time, sitting outside his office in her own private cubicle, where she did what she was highly paid to do with such staggering efficiency that he wondered how he had ever managed without her around.

His phone rang constantly; she fielded calls. The creative bods who worked on some of the games software three floors down burst into his office with some new idea or other, became over-exuberant; she ushered them out like a head teacher whose job it was to keep order in the classroom. When he made the comparison, his keen eyes noted the way she blushed and smiled, and then he grinned when she told him that she wouldn’t have to play head teacher if he was a bit better at playing it himself.

At three, he grabbed his coat; he was running late for a meeting with three investment bankers. She told him at the very least to take off the rugby shirt and handed him something a little more presentable from the concealed, fully stocked wardrobe in the suite opposite his office. Everything was back to normal and it was beginning to grate on him.

At five-thirty, he got back to his office after a successful meeting to find her gathering her things together and slipping on her coat. About to switch off her computer, Jamie felt her heart flutter uncomfortably. She hadn’t been expecting him to be back before she left.

‘You’re leaving?’ Ryan tossed his coat over his desk and began pulling off the unutterably dull grey woollen jumper which he had obligingly worn for the benefit of the bankers.

Underneath, the white tee-shirt barely concealed the hard muscularity of his body. Jamie averted her eyes, mentally slapping herself because she should be used to all this by now and she wasn’t sure why she was suddenly reacting to him like a complete idiot. Maybe it had something to do with her sister being back on the scene. There would be a psychological connection there somewhere if she could be bothered to work it out.

‘I … I would have stayed on, Ryan, but something’s come up, so I have to dash.’

‘Something’s come up? What?’ He headed straight to where she was still dithering in front of her computer terminal and lounged against the door frame.

‘Nothing,’ Jamie muttered.

‘Nothing? Something? Which is it, Jamie?’

‘Oh, just leave me alone!’ she blurted out, and to her horror she could feel her eyes welling up at the sudden intrusion of stress that had presented itself in her previously uncomplicated life. She looked away abruptly and began fiddling with the paperwork on her desk, before turning all her attention to her computer in the desperate hope that the man still leaning against the door frame would take the hint and disappear. He didn’t. Worse, he walked slowly towards her and she felt his finger on her chin, tilting her face up to his.

‘What the hell is going on here?’

‘Nothing’s going on. I’m just … just a bit tired, that’s all. Maybe I’m … coming down with something.’ She shrugged his hand off but she could still feel it burning her skin as she quickly stuck on her thick black coat and braced herself for the biting cold outside.

‘Is it to do with work?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Has something happened here at work that you’re not telling me about? Some of the guys can be a bit rowdy. Has someone said something to you? Made some kind of inappropriate remark?’ He suddenly blanched at the possibility that one of them might have seriously overstepped the mark and done something a little more physical when it came to being inappropriate.

Jamie looked at him blankly and shook her head. ‘Of course not. No, work’s fine. You’ll be relieved to hear that.’

‘Some guy giving you grief?’ He tried to sound sympathetic but his imagination had broken its leash and was filling his head with all sorts of images that were definitely in the ‘inappropriate’ category.

‘What kind of grief?’

‘Has someone made an unwanted pass at you?’ Ryan said bluntly. ‘You can tell me and I’ll make damn sure that it never happens again.’

‘Why do you think that I would need help in sorting out something like that?’ she asked coolly. ‘Do you think that I’m such a fool that I wouldn’t know how to take care of myself if some guy decided to make a pass at me?’

‘Did I say that?’

‘You implied it.’

‘Other women,’ Ryan said, his big body tensing, ‘are probably just a bit more experienced when it comes to men. You … I may be mistaken, but you strike me as an innocent.’

Jamie stared at him. She distantly wondered how they had reached this point in the conversation. How many wrong turnings did it take to get from discussing a software report to her sex life—or lack of it?

‘I think it’s time I head home now. I’ll make sure that I’m in on time tomorrow.’ She began moving towards the door. She was only aware of him shifting his stance when she felt the hot weight of his fingers curled around her wrist.

‘You were upset. Can you blame me for wanting to know why?’ He gave a little jerk and pulled her towards him.

‘Yes, I can!’ Her mouth was dry and she knew that she was flushed. In truth, she felt as though her body was on fire.

‘I’m your boss. You work for me, and as such you’re my responsibility.’ His eyes drifted down to her full mouth and then lower, to the starched white shirt, the neat, tailored jacket. He was aware of her breasts heaving.

‘I am my own responsibility,’ Jamie said through tight lips. ‘I’m sorry I brought my stress to work. It won’t happen again and, for your information, it has nothing to do with anything or anyone in this office. No one’s been saying anything to me and no one’s made a pass at me. I haven’t had to defend myself but I’m just going to say this for the record—if someone had done something that I found offensive, then I would be more than capable of looking out for myself. I don’t need you to step in and defend me.’

‘Most women appreciate a man jumping to their defence,’ Ryan murmured and just like that the atmosphere changed between them. He slackened his grip on her wrist but, instead of pulling away her hand, Jamie found herself staring up at him, losing herself in the depths of his eyes, mesmerised. She blinked and thankfully was brought back down to planet Earth.

‘I am not most women,’ she breathed. ‘And I’d really appreciate it if you could let me go.’

He did, stepping aside, watching as she stuck on her coat and wrapped the black scarf around her neck.

She couldn’t look at him. She just couldn’t. She didn’t understand what had happened back there but she was shaking inside. Not even the thought of Jessica could distract her from the moment. And she was horribly aware that he was staring at her, thinking that she was over-reacting, behaving like a mad woman when all he had done was to try and understand why she had been acting out of character.

She worked for him, and as her boss he had seen it as his civic duty to protect her from possible discomfort in her working environment, and what had she done in response? Acted like an outraged spinster in the company of a lech. She was mortified.

And then she had stared at him. Had he noticed? He noticed everything when it came to women and the last thing she needed was for him to think that she saw him as anything other than her boss, a man whom she respected but would always keep at arm’s length.

‘I’ve left those reports you asked me to do on your desk in descending order of priority,’ she said crisply. ‘Your meeting at ten tomorrow’s been cancelled. I’ve rearranged it and you should have the new date updated onto your phone. So …’

‘So, you can run along and nurse your stress in private,’ Ryan drawled.

‘I will.’

But she spent the entire journey back to her house dwelling on the tone of his voice as he had said that. She wondered what he was thinking of her. She didn’t want to, but she did.

The barrier she had imposed that clearly defined both their roles felt as though it was crumbling around her like a flimsy pack of cards, and all because he had happened to catch her in a vulnerable moment.

Thanks to Jessica.

It was pitch-black and bitterly cold as she walked from the Underground station to her house. London was in a grip of the worst winter weather for twelve years. Predictions were for a white Christmas, although it had yet to snow.

In her house, however, the lights were on. All of them. Jamie sighed and reflected that, on the bright side, at least Jessica had managed to locate the key in its secret hiding spot under the flower pot at the side of the house. At least she had made it down to London from Edinburgh safe and sound, even if she brought with her the promise of yet more stress.

CHAPTER TWO

‘BUT you don’t understand …’

Jamie took time out from loading the dishwasher to glance round at her sister, who was wandering in a sulky fashion around the kitchen, occasionally stopping to pick something up and inspect it with a mixture of boredom and disdain. Nothing in the house was to her taste; she had made that very clear within the first few minutes of Jamie pushing open the front door and walking in.

The place, she’d announced, was poky. ‘Couldn’t you have found something a little more comfortable? I mean, I know Mum didn’t leave us with much, but honestly, Jamie!’ The furnishings were drab. There was no healthy stuff in the fridge to eat and, ‘What on earth do you do for alcohol in this place? Don’t tell me that you while away your evenings with a cup of cocoa and a good book for company?’

Jamie was accustomed to the casual insults, although it had been so long since she had actually set eyes on her sister that she had forgotten just how grating they could be after a while.

Their father had died when Jamie was six and Jessica still a three-year-old toddler and they had been raised by their mother. Jamie had been a bookworm at school, always studying, always mentally moving forward, planning to go to university. She left Jessica to be the one who curled her hair and painted her fingernails and, even at the age of thirteen, develop the kind of wiles that would stand her in very good stead with the opposite sex.

Jamie had never made it to university. At barely nineteen she had found herself first caring for her mother—who, after a routine operation, had contracted MRSA and failed to recover—then, when Gloria had died, taking on the responsibility of looking after her sixteen-year-old sister. Without Jamie even noticing, Jessica had moved from a precocious pre-teen to a nightmare of a teenager. Where Jamie had inherited her father’s dark looks and chosen to retreat into the world of literature and books, Jessica had been blessed with their mother’s striking blonde looks. Far from retreating anywhere, she had shown a gritty determination to flaunt as much of herself as was humanly possible.

A still-grieving Jamie had suddenly been catapulted into the role of caretaker to a teenager who was almost completely out of control.

What else could she have done? Gloria had begged her to make sure to keep an eye on Jessica, to look after her, ‘Because you know what she can be like—she needs a firm hand …’

Jamie often wondered how it was that she hadn’t turned prematurely grey from the stress of it.

And now, after all that muddy water under the bridge, stuff she still could hardly bear to think about, here was Jessica, back on the scene again, as stunning as ever—more, if that was possible—and already making Jamie grit her teeth in pointless frustration.

‘I understand that you have responsibilities, Jess, and they may be getting to you but you can’t run away from them.’ Jamie slammed shut the dishwasher door with undue force and wiped her hands on a tea towel.

Dinner had been a bowl of home-cooked pasta with chicken and mushrooms. Jessica had made a face and flatly refused to eat any of the pasta because she was off carbs.

‘It’s all right for you!’ Jessica snapped, scooping up her poker-straight blonde hair into a ponytail before releasing it so that it fell in a heavy, silky curtain halfway down her back. ‘You don’t have to deal with a bloody husband who works all the hours God made and expects me to be sitting around with a smile pinned to my face, waiting for him to return for a nice hot meal and a back massage! Like some kind of creepy Stepford wife.’

‘You could get a job.’

‘I got a job. I got eight jobs! It’s not my fault if none of them suited me. Besides, what’s the point me going out to work for a pittance when Greg earns so much?’

Jamie didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to think about Greg. Thinking about Greg had always been a downhill road. Once upon a time he had been her boss. Once upon a time she had fancied herself in love with him—a secret, pleasurable yearning that had filled her days with sunlight and made the burden of looking out for her younger sister more bearable. Once upon a time she had actually been stupid enough to think that he would wake up one day and realise that he cared for her in the same way she cared for him. Unfortunately, he had met Jessica and it had been love at first sight.

‘Have you thought about volunteer work?’ she offered, fed up.

‘Oh, purr … leese! Can you really see me doing anything like that, Jamie? Working in a soup kitchen in Edinburgh? Or arranging flowers in the local parish church and doing fund raisers with the old biddies?’

She had dragged one of the chairs over and was sitting with her long legs propped up on the chair in front of her so that she could inspect her toenails which were painted a vibrant shade of pink.

‘I’m bored,’ she said flatly. ‘I’m bored and I’m fed up and I want a life. I’m too young to be buried in the outskirts of Edinburgh where it rains all the time, when it’s not snowing, hanging around for Greg, who only cares about sick animals anyway. Did you know he’s got a fan club? The dishiest vet in town—it’s pathetic!’

Jamie turned away and briefly squeezed her eyes tightly shut. It had been years since she had last seen Greg but she remembered him as clearly as if it had been yesterday. His kind face, the way his grey eyes crinkled when he smiled, his floppy blond hair through which he constantly ran his fingers.

The thought of her sister being bored with him filled her with terror. In the end, Greg had been her salvation. He had taken over the business of worrying about Jessica. Jessica might not need him, but she, Jamie, most definitely did!

‘He’s crazy about you, Jess.’

‘Loads of guys could be crazy about me.’

Jamie felt her body go cold. ‘What does that mean? Have you? You’re not doing anything stupid, are you?’

‘Oh, don’t be such a prude.’ But she sighed and leaned back against the chair, letting her head flop over the back so that she was staring glassy-eyed up at the ceiling. ‘No, I’m not doing anything stupid, if by that you’re asking me whether I’m having an affair. But the way I feel …’

She allowed that possibility to take shape between them and it was all Jamie could do not to slap her sister. However, years of ingrained caretaking papered over the passing temptation. This, she felt, was a subject best left alone in the hope that it might just go away. She was busy wondering what topic she could choose that might be safer when the doorbell rang.

‘Someone flogging something,’ she muttered, relieved for the distraction. ‘Please, Jess, just give Greg a call. He must be worried sick about you.’

She left the kitchen to a disgruntled Jessica informing her that she had no intention of doing any such thing, that he knew perfectly well where she was, just like he knew that she needed some space.

Jamie wondered how long Greg would carry on waiting while Jessica hunted around for this so-called space she was intent on finding, and she was still chewing it over in her head as she pulled open the front door.

The sight of Ryan standing on her doorstep was so shocking that for a few seconds her mind went completely blank.

He had never, ever been to her house before. Not even when they had happened to drive out of London to attend a meeting. He had never picked her up or dropped her off. She hadn’t even thought that he knew where she lived.

Eventually, her brain caught up with what her eyes were telling her, and she stopped gaping at him open-mouthed and actually croaked, ‘What are you doing here?’

‘You were stressed out. I was worried about you. I thought I’d drop by, make sure you were all right.’

‘Well, I’m fine, so I’ll see you tomorrow at work.’ Belatedly, she remembered her sister scowling in the kitchen and she stepped outside and pulled the door quietly closed behind her, taking care not to shut it completely.