A Little Surprise for the Boss
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Elizabeth Lane
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19.4K
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12
One
Porter Hollow, UtahMid-June
Terri Hammond dumped two aspirin into her palm and washed them down with the lukewarm coffee in her mug. The hand-thrown mug, a costly item that bore the inscription My Right-Hand Woman, had been a Christmas gift the previous December from her boss of ten years, Buck Morgan, CEO of Bucket List Enterprises. Its message, meant as a compliment, was a galling reminder of the way Buck treated her—as something that simply did whatever he asked, without requiring attention or praise. Something to be taken for granted.
To Buck’s credit, he’d also given her a generous bonus. But right now, it was all Terri could do to keep from flinging the mug against the sandstone wall of her office with all her strength.
No wonder she had a headache. It was nine forty-five, the day was already turning into the Monday from hell, and Buck was nowhere to be found.
The morning had started with a voice mail from Jay Mickleson, the instructor for the resort’s scheduled afternoon skydive. He’d thrown out his back over the weekend and couldn’t show up for the jump that had been booked. If Terri couldn’t raise one of the other instructors or find Buck, she’d have to do the job herself. She was licensed and certified, but it was just one more thing to add to an already hectic day—a day that was just getting started.
As Terri was about to check her email, a call had come from the nursing supervisor at Canyon Shadows Assisted Living. Terri’s ninety-one-year-old grandmother was refusing to eat again. When the aide had tried to feed her, the old woman swore at the poor girl, knocked the plate to the floor, and demanded that somebody be called to come and drive her home.
The incident would blow over just as they always had in the past, Terri knew. But she felt duty bound to show up. It was nobody’s fault that the sweet, patient woman who’d raised her after her parents died had become erratic and miserable in her old age and dementia. Her grandmother still deserved—and needed—love and attention.
While she was waiting for Bob, her young assistant, to show up and cover the calls, the phone rang again. Terri’s nerves clenched as she recognized the voice of Diane, Buck’s ex-wife, who, thanks to a smart divorce lawyer, owned a 20 percent share of Bucket List Enterprises.
“Terri? Put Buck on.” In Terri’s experience, the word please had never escaped the woman’s collagen-enhanced lips. Neither had thank you.
“Sorry, Diane, he’s not here.”
“Well, where is he? He’s not answering his cell.”
“I know. I’ve tried to reach him. He’s not answering his landline at home, either. Can I help you with something?”
“Well...” Her tongue made a little click. “You can pass this on. I can’t drive Quinn up there this week because I’m hosting a spiritual cleansing retreat here in Sedona. If Buck wants his daughter for the summer, he’s going to have to send someone to get her or come himself.”
Terri bit back a snarky retort. “I’ll pass that on.”
“Fine. Do that.” The call ended. Terri sighed as she hung up the phone. Buck’s nine-year-old daughter was a little champ. But her parents relayed her back and forth like the shuttlecock in a badminton game. Neither of them seemed to have much time for the girl.
Getting Quinn here was Buck’s problem, not hers. But it was her job to let him know. She picked up the phone again and punched in his cell number. She heard the recorded answer in the deep, sexy drawl that, after all these years, still raised goose bumps on the back of her neck.
Hi. You’ve reached Buck Morgan. I’m not available right now. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon as I can.
Terri waited for the beep. “Blast it, Buck, where are you? Jay hurt his back. He’s probably out for the week. And you need to phone Diane about picking up Quinn in Sedona—she says she can’t drive her out. Call me.”
Five minutes later, Bob walked in, late as usual. Dark-haired and handsome at nineteen, he was sure of himself to the point of arrogance. But when it came to actual experience or know-how to back up his ego...he had a lot to learn. Especially when it came to running things at Bucket List Enterprises. After three weeks of struggling to train him, Terri had doubts about his willingness to learn any of it. But since his father was one of Buck’s partners, she was stuck with him. She sighed as he waved a greeting. What she wouldn’t give for some reliable help.
After telling him where she was going and leaving him with some brief instructions, she shoved on her sunglasses and dashed out through the rustic, open-beamed lobby of the luxury hotel that was the center of Buck’s business. Her vintage Jeep was parked in the employee row, next to Bob’s Corvette. Piling into the driver’s seat, she swung onto Porter Hollow’s main street and headed for the nursing home. Her long chestnut hair, caught back in a ponytail, waved behind her as she drove.
By the time she arrived, the crisis was over. “Harriet calmed down not long after we called you,” the nursing director told her. “She finally ate some breakfast and went to sleep in her lounge chair in front of the TV.”
“You’re not giving her anything to make her sleep, are you?” Terri demanded.
“Of course not, dear. She’s just old and tired. Any little thing wears her out these days.”
Terri took the stairs to the second floor, walked down the carpeted hallway and opened the door to her grandmother’s tiny studio apartment. The TV was blaring a popular game show, but the old woman wasn’t watching. She lay partway back in her old leather recliner, her head sagging to one side like a tired little sparrow’s as she slept. She looked so small and frail that Terri had to fight back tears.
After turning off the TV, Terri left without waking her. She would come back to visit tonight after dinner. Right now she needed to check on Buck.
Worry gnawed at her as she turned onto Main Street. Buck had worked hard to build his business, and he took a hands-on approach to running it. The other side of that was that he played as hard as he worked. Oversleeping after a wild night wasn’t unheard of. But it wasn’t like him to drop out of sight without telling her, or at least leaving his phone on so she could reach him. Something had to be wrong.
On this warm mid-June day, Main Street was crowded with tourists. Visitors roamed the boardwalks that lined the narrow roadway, browsing the expensive boutiques and art galleries, and eating brunch in the upscale gourmet restaurants.
For generations, Porter Hollow had been a sleepy little southern Utah town, nestled amid spectacular red rock scenery but largely undiscovered by the rest of the world. Buck, who’d grown up here, had come home from the army eleven years ago burning with ideas to bring the place to life and garner the town worldwide attention.
Starting small, he’d partnered with several outdoor-adventure companies to form Bucket List Enterprises. Within a few years the town had become a magnet for high-end adventure seekers. Porter Hollow offered access to four national parks, the vast waters of Lake Powell and the Tony Award–winning Utah Shakespeare Festival in nearby Cedar City. Buck’s clients could enjoy river rafting, sport fishing, hiking, biking, skydiving, four-wheeling and horseback trips into the nearby mountains. With the construction of a sprawling luxury hotel complex, featuring exclusive shops, five-star restaurants, a spa, a beauty salon and the booking office for Bucket List Adventures, Buck had forged a kingdom. As holder of a 70 percent company share, he was its absolute ruler. Even Terri could only guess how many millions of dollars he was worth.
From the main highway, Terri took a right turn onto the road that wound two miles up a vermilion-hued canyon to the gated property where Buck had built his home. She would check there first. If she failed to find him, she would start making phone calls. Buck Morgan wasn’t just her boss. The two of them went back a long way. She was genuinely concerned about him.
Growing up, Terri had known Buck as the best friend of her older brother, Steve. Buck and Steve had played football together, hunted and fished together, and double-dated the prettiest girls in school. After graduation, the two of them had joined the army and deployed in the same unit. Buck had survived Iraq and made it home without a scratch. Steve had been shot dead on patrol and come home to Porter Hollow in a flag-draped coffin. His death had devastated Terri. But Buck had tried to make sure she was all right. When, after two years of college, she’d returned home to care for her aging grandmother, he’d offered her a well-paying job as his assistant and office manager. Working side by side, her feelings for him had only grown—not that he’d ever seemed to notice. Buck had been a loyal friend to her, but it had always been clear that friendship was the only relationship he wanted with her, despite his affairs with an endless string of women.
Her grandmother’s declining health, and her loyalty to Buck, had kept Terri in Porter Hollow and with Bucket List Enterprises for the past ten years. But recently she’d begun to question her future. She was thirty years old. Did she really want to spend her life looking after a man with a weakness for sexy blondes—a man who never gave her a second look, except when he needed something done?
It wasn’t as if she didn’t have options. As Buck’s assistant, she’d gotten to know the owners of other resorts in the region. Several had expressed an interest in poaching her. Moving her grandmother shouldn’t be a problem. There had to be nice facilities in other towns—some of them better than Canyon Shadows.
She should give it some serious thought, Terri told herself as she drove up the canyon. A change of scene might be good for her. It might even help her get over the flaming crush she’d had on Buck Morgan since she was fourteen.
Pulling up to the wrought iron gate, Terri entered the code on the keypad. She felt a prickle of nervous apprehension. What would she find when she reached the house? What could explain Buck’s mysterious silence?
A symphony of stone, wood and glass, the house was set amid cliffs and massive boulders like part of the landscape. The interior featured soaring cathedral ceilings and a huge stone fireplace. Buck could easily have afforded servants, but he liked his privacy. He made do with a weekly cleaning crew from the hotel to keep the place spotless.
The place looked undisturbed. As Terri pulled into the driveway, she could see Murphy, Buck’s big rescue mutt, romping in the enclosed part of the yard. An imposing mix of rottweiler and pit bull, he was as playful and affectionate as he was scary-looking. He bounded up to the tall fence, tongue lolling and tail wagging, as she climbed out of the Jeep.
“Hello, boy.” Terri stuck her fingers through the chain links so the dog could slurp them. The dog didn’t seem upset—which he’d likely be if something was wrong. And Buck’s tan Hummer was parked outside the garage, which meant he was most likely here. But if he was here, why wasn’t he answering either of his phones?
The door swung open to a silent house. No TV. No sounds or smells from the kitchen. She checked the kitchen and dining room, the pantry, the den, and the downstairs bathroom. Aside from a single coffee cup and a spoon in the sink, there was no sign of life. The bedrooms, including Buck’s, were upstairs. Cringing inside, Terri crept up the open staircase. What if Buck was here and he had company? If she heard telltale noises coming from his bedroom, she’d be out of the house faster than a scared jackrabbit.
From the landing, she could see that the door to Buck’s room was partway open. Peeking around the door frame, she saw that the blinds were drawn, the room dim and quiet. Finally she could make out a solitary figure sprawled facedown in the rumpled king-size bed—sheets twisted around long, bare legs, a smudge of dark hair against the pillow. It was definitely Buck. But was he all right? It wasn’t like him to be in bed at this hour on a workday.
Shedding her sandals in the hall, she tiptoed into the room. She could hear the deep rasp of his breathing. At least he was alive. Edging closer, she could see his shoes and work clothes scattered on the sheepskin rug, as if he’d just peeled everything off and collapsed into bed. He wasn’t even wearing...
Heat rushed to Terri’s face as her gaze fixed on the twin moons of his rump, nicely framed by a fold of the twisted sheet. The man wasn’t wearing a stitch. What she could see of him looked damned good.
But this was no time to ogle her boss’s scrumptious body. Something here wasn’t right. He was either sick or drugged, maybe both.
His cell phone was on the nightstand, switched off. She also noticed an empty water glass and two plastic prescription bottles. Holding them to the light from the hall, she inspected the labels. One she recognized as a heavy-duty analgesic Buck took for his occasional migraines. The other was unfamiliar. But if Buck had taken them in combination, the side effects could have knocked him out—or worse.
She was no doctor. But one thing was certain. She couldn’t just walk away and leave him like this. She needed to wake him up and make sure he was all right.
Reluctant to startle him, she nudged his bare shoulder. “Buck, wake up,” she whispered.
A quiver passed through his body. He groaned, the sound muffled by the pillow.
“Wake up, Buck! Open your eyes!” She shook his shoulder again, harder this time. He moaned, twitched and rolled over onto his back. His stunning cobalt eyes were open, but they had a glazed, drowsy look.
“Hullo, pretty lady,” he muttered. “You showed up just in time.”
“In time for what?” Terri asked. Buck appeared to be half-asleep. He didn’t even seem to recognize her. “Pretty lady” was his usual term of endearment for his conquests—he’d never called her that before.
“For this.” He clasped her wrist and trailed her hand down his belly under the tangled sheet. Gently but firmly he folded her fingers around a stallion-sized erection.
Terri’s heart lurched. She was no virgin—she’d had a couple of relationships in college and a short-lived fling on a trip to Hawaii. But that had been a long time ago, and this was Buck, not only her boss, but her friend—and the man she’d secretly pined over for years.
Clearly he wasn’t in his right mind. If she was smart, she’d slap him back to his senses and leave. But the heat was already pounding through her body. Even after he released her wrist, she couldn’t make her fingers let go of that warm, silky, amazing hardness.
Heaven help her, she wanted him.
“C’mere, you...” he said, while she was still trying to convince herself that she should, she must leave. Hand catching the back of her head, he pulled her down for a rough, possessive kiss that pushed every sensible logical thought out of her mind. His tongue invaded her mouth, stroking and teasing the sensitive surfaces. Desire blazed through her like the flame of a blowtorch. She could feel the wetness as her body prepared to welcome him. Common sense took flight. She wanted him so much. And it felt so incredible to believe, in this moment, that he wanted her, too.
His hands, deft and practiced, unfastened her khakis and slid them down her legs, along with her panties. Shifting on the bed, he encouraged her to straddle him, positioning her body on top of his. He slid his hand between her legs, and she could feel his grin against her lips at the wetness he found.
She leaned over him, clasped his hips with her knees and eased herself down onto his shaft. Her eyes closed as he slid upward, completely filling her. He groaned in satisfaction as her lips parted, her breath sucked inward. This was Buck inside her—the man she’d wanted from the time she’d learned what sex was all about. Even the thought was enough to trigger the delicious little spasm of her first climax.
She began to move, taking the time at first to feel every inch of him gliding in and out of her. Then, for both of them, urgency took over. His breath deepened, hips arching to meet her as she pushed harder, faster, until with a groan he rolled her onto her back, moved on top of her and took charge.
Her legs wound around his hips as he thrust into her, driving like a bull, until she burst with him, clenching around him in a climax that fulfilled fifteen years of fantasies.
With a grunt of satisfaction, he rolled off her and lay back on the pillow. For a few seconds Terri was still, basking in the afterglow. Then reality fell on her with a crash. She’d just had mindless, gasket-blowing sex with her boss. Nothing would ever be the same between them again.
Sitting up, she gazed down at him. Buck’s eyes were closed, his breathing deep and even. His face wore a contented little smirk.
The man had gone back to sleep—if he’d ever actually been fully awake.
Her face burned as the truth sank home. The earth might have moved for her. But what about him? He’d roused to find a woman in his bedroom and simply reacted. She could have been anyone. When he woke up later, the odds were he’d only barely remember this encounter. She wasn’t at all sure he’d remember that the woman had been her.
That would be for the best, Terri told herself as she slipped off the bed and gathered her clothes without disturbing him. If Buck didn’t remember the identity of his mystery lover, there’d be no awkwardness, no embarrassing confrontations—and of course, she’d never tell him. They could go on as before, as if nothing had happened.
Or...could this be the thing she’d been looking for, to shake up her life from the rut it was in?
Dare she hope that this would change things between them? That he would look at her and see the warm, loving—and sexy, damn it—woman behind the loyal assistant who’d been at his side like a faithful hound for the past ten years?
If not, maybe it really was time to move on.
Before leaving the room, she switched on his cell phone and turned the ring volume all the way up. If Diane had something to discuss, or if there was an emergency at work, he was damned well fit to answer the call.
In the hallway, she scrambled into her clothes, cramming her shirttail into her khakis and hooking the belt with shaking hands. The memory of her time in Buck’s bed already felt like some kind of crazy dream. It would be up to Buck to decide whether or not to make it real.
Downstairs, she fed the dog and changed his water. Then she left. She was no longer worried about Buck’s condition. He’d given her ample proof that he was going to be fine. She would go back to work and let him sleep off whatever was in his system. Meanwhile, there were plenty of other things to demand her attention.
Twenty minutes after leaving Buck’s place, she pulled into the hotel parking lot, switched off the Jeep’s ignition and took a moment to compose herself. Her pulse was still racing at the memory of the time she’d spent in his bed. When she’d driven to his canyon home, the last thing she’d expected was to sleep with the man. Getting back to normal was going to be a challenge. And she couldn’t repress the surge of excitement at the thought that they might be on the verge of a new normal.
But until then, she had to pull herself together. Glancing down, she smoothed her khaki shirt with the Bucket List logo on the front pocket, then climbed out of the vehicle and strode across the parking lot to the hotel entrance.
The hotel lobby was a showplace. Built in rustic style, like the lodges at the nearby Grand Canyon, it featured walls of red sandstone slabs, massive open-beam construction and a slate floor. At the far end, a stone fireplace rose to the ceiling. Between the entrance and the front desk, a waterfall cascaded down a face of natural rock. Exquisite Navajo rugs hung on the walls, and the gift shops sold real Native American textiles, jewelry and pottery. There was no tourist junk. Buck had insisted that everything sold here be not only authentic but of gallery quality.
Terri smiled a greeting to the clerks as she passed the front desk, then darted down a hallway to the women employees’ restroom. When she checked herself in the mirror, she expected to see her usual ordinary features—the copper-flecked brown eyes and no-nonsense brows, the square chin, the straight nose sprinkled with freckles, all arranged into the businesslike expression she wore at work. But the face gazing back at her was almost a stranger’s—cheeks flushed, moist lips swollen, eyes large and bright in a surprisingly sensual face. Nobody who saw her could help but notice the difference.
Good grief! Why not simply hang a sign around her neck reading I Just Had Hot Sex with the Boss?
With a shake of her head, she turned on the cold water, splashed her face and blotted it dry with a paper towel. Slicking her lips with the colored gloss she carried in her purse and smoothing her hair back with her damp hands, she called it good. Duty awaited.
The booking and management office for Bucket List Adventures was down the hall in its own wing of the hotel complex. It consisted of an open area for the staff, break and conference rooms, restrooms, a modest office for Terri, and a spacious office for Buck.
Terri breezed in from the covered hallway that connected with the hotel, trying to look as if nothing had happened. She found Bob in her office, sitting back in her chair with his boots on her desk and spilled coffee leaving a trail across the mahogany surface. A spark of annoyance flared. But she bit back a sharp comment. She’d asked the boy to cover the phones. He probably didn’t know how to transfer the calls to his own desk.
“So catch me up,” she said. “What’s happening?”
Making no move to get out of her chair, though he did at least have the grace to drop his feet off the desk and look a bit embarrassed, he picked up a yellow notepad. At least he knew enough to write down messages. “The skydive’s covered,” he said. “Jay called another instructor who was willing to take it.”
“That’s a relief.” And it was. After this morning, she was in no condition to parachute out of a plane with the seventy-year-old woman who was jumping to celebrate her birthday. “Anything else?” she asked.
“Diane called again. She wanted to know where Buck was. I told her you’d gone to look for him.” He glanced up at her. “Did you have any luck?”
Terri willed her expression to freeze. “Buck isn’t feeling well. He’d turned off his phone so he could get some rest, that’s all.”
“Well, I guess I should give you your desk back.” He stood then, a gangly figure who towered over Terri by a head. “Hey, did you lose your earring?” he asked.
“Oh!” Terri’s hands went to her earlobes. One earring was in place. The other was missing.
The little turquoise-inlaid silver earrings in the shape of Kokopelli, the Native American flute-playing deity, were her favorite pair. She’d received a lot of compliments on them. Even Buck had noticed them.
The missing earring could have fallen off anywhere. But it hadn’t. Terri’s gut feeling told her exactly how and where she’d lost it.
Buck would be sure to recognize it. And that meant that he’d have to acknowledge what had occurred between them. Her stomach roiled in fear and anticipation. This could be a disaster...or it could be the start of something amazing. And she had no way of knowing which until Buck finally arrived.
