Deborah drove to Daniel's estate and pushed the security buttons. The wind came in through the cracked window, chilling the interior of the car, as she waited for the gates to open, allowing her to drive down the pathway to Daniel's home. She felt as though she had been followed, but dismissed the idea since the iron gate would keep everyone out.
Being the center of media attention felt odd. The thought of someone taking her picture and posting that she was pregnant made her paranoid as to who could be lurking about.
Working out in the hotel gym the last few days and laying off carbs had given her a sense of accomplishment. Even though she told herself repeatedly that she didn't care what the media said, deep down, she did. And that bothered her since she had always taken pride in her figure and appearance.
She parked her car in the circular driveway and felt odd getting out of the vehicle, and then she realized why. She usually carried in dry cleaning, groceries, or some other item he needed her to bring over. Today, she brought in only her purse.
She paused and caught her reflection in the side mirror. She wasn't expecting to see him today, at least, not yet. Her disheveled hair and sparse makeup gave her a dressed down appearance. Instead of her crisp business suit, she wore a comfortable pair of jeans and a T–shirt. She gazed at her unbuttoned coat and saw the shirt peeking out.
Geez. There was a stain.
So much for taking pride in how she looked.
There was nothing she could do. Brushing away at the proof that she had eaten a gluten–free pizza for lunch, she realized the last time he’d seen her, she had been wearing a slim, fitted, red gown. If there had been anything between the two of them, the ugly ensemble she wore today would squash that.
Her horrible outfit may just be the perfect remedy. She was here to roll up her sleeves and get to work—not be on a date.
She marched down the walkway to the front door, and the motion sensor lights caught her presence. This visit was business. And that's all it will ever be. She wouldn't be foolish to fall for another boss. Never again.
Good Lord, Daniel needed help.
He sat at the kitchen table surrounded by paperwork. Electrical cords lay on the floor plugged into extension cables allowing him to keep two laptops running.
This second merger had been dropped in his lap. He knew their rival in the industry struggled to keep up, and buying them out and gaining their employees and company secrets was a huge win for Ellington–Weston.
So why could he only focus on Deborah? He glanced at the clock. She should be here by now.
The last time they had bought a rival security company, Deborah had helped him design the proposal. Daniel used that one as a template for this new merger, but Deborah seemed to have more finesse with such details.
She was needed in so many ways.
So many ways.
The doorbell rang, causing his two Shelties to wake from their nap and be on bark patrol. The noise became nearly deafening and he checked the monitor and saw Deborah standing outside.
She was here.
His jacket was off, so he made sure his shirt was tucked in. He grazed his hand over his hair and took a deep breath.
He opened the door and an explosion of fur nearly knocked him down.
“Hi, babies.” She took timid steps trying to get in the door without stepping on paws or tails.
“Dammit. Watch out… Ginger peed.”
Deborah side stepped the urine which had pooled in one area, but the dog’s excitement had spread it across several of the marble tiles. Her brother, Oreo, was now taking an interest in it and smelling around the foyer. “Come babies. Outside.”
Daniel worried about what to wear, what to say, what to do when he saw her again. Cleaning up dog pee was far from the list he had prepared, but it gave him something to do.
“They’re excited to see you.”
A heaviness lifted from his chest, and his lips spread into a huge smile. They weren't the only ones who’d missed her. Having her in the house was like a breath of fresh air.
Deborah glanced around once both dogs were out the now opened doggie door. “Are we the only ones here?”
“Yes.” He disposed of the paper towel and washed his hands.
She placed her purse down on the kitchen counter. “I thought the temp secretary would be helping you.”
Her voice sounded frosty, in a ‘will I be disturbing the two of you’ kind of way. He didn’t like the tone but considering how many women he had been with over the years—how many that he had flaunted in front of Deborah—he could understand her coldness.
A syrupy feeling of shame covered him. Deborah had organized his dating life for years, a duty no personal assistant should have to do for her boss. “Ms. Ortiz…,” he began, shaking his head.
Deborah’s hand went up, she shook her head and didn’t make eye contact. “You don’t have to explain anything, Mr. Ellington.”
He watched as she dug her glasses out from her purse, her body stiff, her lips pursed. She appeared hurt, perhaps even uncomfortable, by the mention of the temp. “She is the worst secretary I’ve ever worked with,” he said, knowing that the woman’s office skills were not what Deborah was focusing on.
“I hate her company. She is incompetent, intrusive, and just in the way.” He shrugged and let out a deep breath. “Her intitled demeanor irritates me, and I can’t wait to have you back.”
Deborah’s eyes lit up by the description. Daniel had many pet peeves, but an invasive person getting in Daniel’s way was high on the list of people he avoided, and she knew it. “I’m sorry you’ve been struggling at the office in my absence.”
“I need you to come back.”
An awkward silence filled the room, but, at the very least, Deborah no longer looked uncomfortable. He gestured to the couch and the table covered with paperwork. “We should probably get to work.”
Once settled and the work began, he said, “Have you seen the signed affidavit involving the contractors?”
Deborah remained busy scanning documents. She didn't even glance up but handed the requested file to Daniel. “Of course, sir.”
He reached over, causing the books and paperwork between them on the couch to tumble. Without skipping a beat, Deborah straightened the mess before it fell to the floor.
The affidavit wrinkled in Daniel's hands, making a slight crunching noise since he had forcibly grabbed it from her as she’d dove to save the paperwork between them.
“No harm done.” She read a file on her computer screen and her face pinched in a I’m-doing-a-hard-math-problem sort of way.
“Something wrong?”
She looked away from her laptop and set the paperwork down. “I just don't understand all this legal stuff.” She stretched her arms and allowed her shoulder to pop from tension. “Legal documents always confuse me.”
Grinning, he thought that they worked well together, like a pair of conjoined twins figure skating and winning gold. She understood the business and was always thorough in her work, even if she often misunderstood what the legal stuff was about.
“Scott will review everything in the morning. We just need to focus on the takeover and warehouse supplies tonight.”
His tie felt as if it were strangling him. He had already taken off his jacket, but he now removed the cursed noose and tossed it on the coffee table. “Can you read back the latest requirement involving liquidating all surplus and antiquated assets?”
“Of course, sir.”
As she read back the proposal, he studied her as though seeing her for the first time. Her new hairstyle certainly complemented her face, but tonight it was pulled back into a short, sloppy ponytail, giving her a sexy ‘here I am’ look. Her dark–rimmed glasses no longer made her look nerdy to him, but rather sophisticated in a Ph.D. candidate sort of way.
He smiled as his gaze wandered from the hair tie she wore, past the T–shirt and tight–fitting jeans, down to her feet. She wore comfortable clothes, indeed clothes not meant to impress, and she appeared at peace with herself.
She looked radiant in a complete banana split kind of way. A natural beauty not needing the expensive outfits and caked on makeup. Someone who probably tumbled out of bed looking sexy.
Her voice sounded even–toned as she continued to read. Her pacing was smooth and deliberate. The only other sound he heard was a slight rumbling from her stomach. She paused in her task, placed her hand on her belly, and said, “Excuse me.”
She cleared her throat and began reading again. Her voice sounded professional, but Daniel had difficulty concentrating. It was late, and he was also hungry.
And then he remembered the tweets that rumored that Deborah was pregnant. That would explain why she seemed more beautiful tonight than ever before. She was glowing.
A heaviness settled in the pit of his stomach as he watched her scroll down the page on her laptop and continued reading.
She sported a new look, probably for a fresh start with a new man. If he remembered correctly, she was about the same age as he was…maybe just a few years younger. When was her birthday? January? He must have just missed it.
His stomach rumbled, and he glanced at the time. Was it already after eight o'clock?
The refrigerator might be bare since he'd been gone a few days, but he needed to get something together for dinner. Deborah was probably starving since she was eating for two, although her pregnancy didn't show with the skinny jeans she wore.
Giving her a sideways glance, he studied her belly. He didn’t see what the photographer had referred to as a baby bump. Of course, Deborah had always been lean and trim.
Professionally polished.
Respectful.
Sexy as hell.
She shifted on the couch and folder her legs under her.
Damn, they were skinny jeans.
Nice and tight.
He cleared his throat and focused. “I'm going to order something to eat. What would you like?” he asked the second she’d finished reading.
She picked up some paperwork next to her on the couch and sifted through a few pages. “We're almost done here. I can wait until I'm back at the hotel to eat.”
Already? It wasn’t that late.
Overall, there wasn’t that much work to do, and it could have waited until tomorrow. But Deborah wouldn’t be at the office. He did need her help, and he absolutely wanted to see her. Given some more time, he could come up with more stuff to keep them busy.
“Don't be silly,” he said with a hint of urgency. “There's at least another hour of work ahead of us. I'll order whatever you want, Deborah.” Her name rolled off his tongue and felt natural for him to say. It was hard to think of her now as Ms. Baxter.
Her beautiful green eyes lit up as she set the paper down and made eye contact with him, staring at him for a moment. “You haven't eaten a home–cooked meal in nearly a week, Daniel. I'll make you something.”
Her face lit up at the suggestion, but he couldn't have her cook. She was a guest in his home. “Deborah, you don't need to make something for dinner.”
The dogs, who had been asleep by Deborah's feet, whined when they heard the word dinner. One sat up and nudged her with his nose.
“I guess you two are hungry, as well.” She patted the dogs and then placed her glasses on the table. “Your standard grocery delivery should have arrived yesterday.”
“Seems like my home practically runs itself.” He let out a half-hearted chuckle. “I don’t even have to be home.”
No. He just needed Deborah and the magic wand she used to make everything perfect in his life.
“It takes some work. Trust me. Coordinating deliveries, running household errands… it can be time consuming.”
She didn’t sound upset, more matter–of–fact. It made him wonder how much time she spent here without him. He assumed it was quite a bit of time, seeing how the dogs loved up on her.
She stood and walked to the corner of the kitchen where a large bag of dog food lay. “Your dog walker came, your pantry service came… if it weren't so cold out, even your gardener would have come.”
She scooped dry kibble and placed it in the two bowls on the floor. The Shelties ran over for their dinner, but didn’t begin eating until she patted each one on the head. “I even had the pantry service bring more food for you guys, too. Yes, I did. Good boy, good girl.”
His killer guard dogs just wanted to eat and then kiss Deborah all over.
He understood the feeling.
She had watched the dogs over the years, and if he remembered correctly, she had even suggested their names. The sable girl with reddish fur was named Ginger, and her merle brother with black fur was named Oreo. Ginger Snap and Oreo Cookie. Corny, but cute.
Daniel walked around the kitchen island. The room looked clean and sterile. He wondered if his maid service had just come by, as well. For someone who didn’t hire domestic help, and only trusted Deborah into his home, she certainly had a team of people that came and took care of the place—all seamlessly with him not around.
Deborah washed her hands and then grabbed an apron from a counter drawer. She began tying the strings behind her when he took several quick steps to close the gap between them. “Let me help.”
Standing directly behind her, he smelled the scent of her shampoo. It wasn't a fruity smell, but a delicate floral one. He inhaled deeply as his fingers took the apron straps from her hand.
He tied the thin fabric belt around her tiny waist. Leaning toward her and feeling caught in a spell, he whispered into her ear, “Too tight?”
“It's fine.”
The two of them paused and stood for a moment together. Her body radiated warmth, and he leaned in. With her hair pulled back, he saw the shapely curve of her neck. He inhaled deeply and paused just short of kissing her.
The moment felt like déjà–vu.
He had lived this scene before.
His body stiffened and he stopped breathing.
Everything felt too familiar.
Way too familiar.
He stepped back, allowing her to continue with the meal.
Glancing around the kitchen, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. His dishes. His dogs. His pots and pans. Evidently his apron. His girlfriend… A smile came to his lips. No. Not his girlfriend. His Deborah.
A feeling of electricity shocked his body and he stared at the back of Deborah’s head as she gathered cooking utensils.
His Deborah.
This kitchen, this scene… it had all been in a dream the other night with his brunette–haired mystery woman. The woman he had dreamt about every night while in California.
He felt a pain in the pit of his stomach, and his mouth went dry. It couldn’t be. He stared at Deborah's beautiful head of hair. She was his dream brunette.
God. It was her. His mystery dream woman was Deborah… His knees melted under him, and he nearly stumbled.
She wasn't even facing him, and yet he knew hers was the face he never got to see in his dreams.
He couldn't stop himself. His legs may have felt like Jell-O, but they moved him across the floor. For a moment, he leaned in. He smelled her intoxicating scent, heard the soft tune she hummed, and felt her body warmth so close to him.
What was he doing? This was Ms. Baxter… Deborah. It was Deborah. His assistant.
He raked his hand through his hair and stepped back, giving himself distance from her.
She walked to the refrigerator and inspected the fully stocked shelves, finally settling on salmon and fresh vegetables.
“Why don't you continue with the paperwork? This will take some time.”
Her voice sounded strained as if she had noticed him standing too close to her, but she was the one who had moved away and denied him the kiss.
He watched as she elegantly made her way around the kitchen grabbing spices, mixing bowls, and knives. She knew his place better than he did. Hell, he hadn’t even known he owned an apron until he’d seen her pull it out of the drawer.
“Go on. I'll call you when dinner is ready.”
“If you wouldn't mind, I'd rather finish the paperwork with you.” He didn’t know what else to say. I need you? I’ve been dreaming of you? I have feelings for you?
He settled on, “Together we seem to get through the paperwork a lot faster.”
“Of course, sir.”
He was a coward. Sure, their romantic relationship was a fake. And she was probably seeing another man. And, he couldn’t forget, she may be pregnant.
His chest tightened. There were a lot of reasons to be a coward. She probably didn’t even feel the same way about him.
Feeling useless, he glanced around the room and found nothing to do. Noticing that he still wore the wrinkled suit from his flight, he said, “I'd like to shower and get the airport smell off me.”
“Of course, sir.”