Scandal In The Boardroom: His by Design / The CEO's Accidental Bride / Secret Baby, Public Affair
was barely enough to silhouette Ziara’s beautiful face. The stillness in the room as the door clicked shut only accentuated the pounding of the blood in his veins. He stalked forward, using their still-clasped hands to draw her near. He was pleased to see she didn’t cower from him, from the intensity of his desire.
“Ziara, I need you.”
This time it was she who anchored her hands in his hair. “And I need you,” she choked out. “I really do.”
Her voice shook at first but quickly firmed, though she sounded surprised. Whether at the need or the admission, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t question his good fortune. Letting her pull his head down, he met her swollen lips once more, tasting the sweet burn he now associated with Ziara herself.
Allowing his hands free rein, they roamed her body, cupping those full breasts and squeezing them gently together. Her nipples hardened into peaks he could feel through the layers of fabric.
He followed the curve of her waist to the flare of her hips, finally drawing her tight against his erection.
Ziara bit lightly against his lower lip, sending Sloan’s body and mind flying apart. Grabbing the zipper hidden along her side, he jerked it down, then the dress. Ziara gasped, but he didn’t care. He just needed to touch her skin with his.
Instinct took over. His lips only left hers long enough to pull his shirt over his head. Drawing her against him, he groaned at the sensation of flesh against flesh, hotter than he could ever remember being. His head fell back, only to drop forward again to bury in her neck.
Her sweet, spicy scent drove him to taste her skin. Working his way down, he licked and nibbled the smooth column of her neck and the curve of her collarbone. He fell to his knees so he could savor the textures of her breasts and nipples.
Only then did he become aware of her panting breath, too jagged for passion. Releasing her sweet flesh, he looked up, catching the glint of moisture on her cheeks in the lights filtering through the far windows. “Ziara?”
“Please stop.”
Ziara stayed in her room the next morning until the last possible minute. Hiding wasn’t the noblest of behaviors, but she simply couldn’t face Sloan after calling a halt to...whatever last night had been.
How would she ever explain why she’d led him on, then left him hanging like that? How could she ever look herself in the eyes again and not remember her actions? Behavior that brought memories of her mother flooding to the surface. No matter how much her mind insisted she wasn’t using Sloan, the fact that he was her boss couldn’t be ignored. She refused to participate in anything reminiscent of her mother’s life, built on sex, money and scheming for everything she could get.
Drawing in a deep breath, she smoothed her hair back into its usual bun. More aware than ever of the facade she presented in her business suit, she grabbed the handle of her rolling suitcase and opened the door. Sloan stood silent near the outer door, his own luggage not far away, remains of breakfast littering the table near the window.
Keeping her chin lifted and her eyes focused over his shoulder, she somehow crossed the room without stumbling or being sick. By the time she neared Sloan, his hand rested on the doorknob, but he made no move to leave. She could actually feel him looking at her, and her insides shivered. Part of her cowered in humiliation; the other part flared back to life with arousal.
For long moments Sloan didn’t move, keeping them locked in a silent battle. The tension ate away at her composure.
“I just have one question,” he finally said, his voice strained and husky. “Why?”
She spit out the words she’d rehearsed during the long, dragging hours of the night. “You’re my boss. It just isn’t right.”
She must have managed the right level of conviction, because he opened the door and led the way outside. Watching him stride away struck her as bittersweet.
The flight home, long and silent, was punctuated by agonizingly polite phrases like “Excuse me” and “Would you like a drink?” Her body pulled in on itself, making her wish she could shrink into oblivion. But she couldn’t. Not yet. Soon, though.
Unfortunately, Ziara was left with lots of time to think over what had occurred between them, as if she hadn’t replayed it a hundred times in the dark of night. His kiss had been seductive in more than the obvious sense. It had made her blossom with beauty, power and wantonness. Therein lay the rub. She wanted to revel in the passion Sloan evoked, whether they were sparring or kissing. But she couldn’t because it might lead to becoming the one thing she’d promised herself she never would.
As for work, she couldn’t fathom how she’d ever behave normally again. Why did it have to be this particular man who affected her like this? The one man who could tear down the respectable career she’d worked so long and hard for with just a few words.
Deciding to bite the bullet as they stood at the luggage carousel, she turned and said, “Would you like me to pick up some lunch on my way to work?”
“Go home,” he said.
Ziara’s body froze with her emotions. She couldn’t see for a moment. Everything went blurry. When her vision cleared, Sloan was propping her suitcase in front of her. Was he so fed up, so desperate to be rid of her, he would fire her despite Vivian’s insistence that they work together? Not that Vivian would oppose him once she found out what Ziara had done.
“Rest today,” he said, his voice a little softer this time. His gaze inventoried her face, probably noting the swelling under her eyes and the red rims she’d been unable to cover this morning. “The real work starts tomorrow.”
He turned and walked away without looking back, leaving confusion and an achy longing behind.
* * *
Desperately needing something to distract herself, Ziara tried to catch up on things she probably wouldn’t have a chance to do in the weeks to come unless Sloan changed his mind about firing her before tomorrow. Deep cleaning the house and weeding the flower beds were always good for keeping her hands busy. Too bad her mind didn’t want to cooperate.
But even if he didn’t fire her, she knew in her heart she’d have to move on as soon as the show was over. Even if Vivian graciously extended the offer to be her executive assistant to Ziara, just knowing Sloan was right around the corner and could appear at any minute would keep her on edge.
It looked like she’d end up losing, after all. Her heart tightened, grieving as much for the loss of her beloved position within this company as it did for the necessity of keeping Sloan at arm’s length. She hadn’t just worked for Eternity Designs, she’d believed in its values, its purpose, and had hoped security could be found within its ranks.
As she went inside to clean up, she couldn’t hold the tears back any longer. They mingled with the streaming water of the shower, invisible enough that she could dismiss her shame.
What was happening to her? All these emotions, so long buried deep inside, were erupting at every twist and turn. This was exactly why she didn’t want them—because she couldn’t control them. Or maybe she grieved because she did want them yet couldn’t express them.
Guess she could add confusion to the messy pile.
Tears spent, she dried off, shaking away the last vestiges of depression and guilt. She dressed casually in khaki capris and a fuchsia T-shirt, then brushed out her hair in front of the bathroom vanity. Everyone was allowed one colossal mistake in their lifetime, right? This was hers. At least her conscience was clear. Her mistake wouldn’t hurt anyone but herself.
Padding into the kitchen, she immersed herself in cooking dinner. Something as far from paella as she could get.
She threw together a quick southwestern chicken panini, which she coupled simply with apple and orange sections. Delicious as it was,