Who's the Boss? Read online

  “No.” She backed away from him, holding her hands out to ward him off, because one more touch would have her crumpling, and she had to be strong. “You’re not giving it up for me.” She walked out of the foyer, and he followed her into the living room. “My father gave it to you,” she said, turning around in the large room. “He wanted you to have it.”

  “I can’t keep it.” He watched her pace. “You’re hurting and I want to make it better.”

  Caitlin knew there was only one way for Joe to make it better, and that was for him to love her back as hopelessly as she loved him. While she suspected he might feel that way, she was afraid that he was so used to being able to rely on only himself, he’d never be able to tell her. “You can’t do this. He loved you, Joe.”

  “Yes. And I...loved him,” he said softly, the words grainy and rusty, as if he’d never said them out loud before. He looked open, and more vulnerable than she thought possible.

  He could love, she thought with a rush of joy and hope. And knowing that, she knew anything, anything at all, was possible.

  “I loved him,” he repeated. “God, I did.”

  Through a haze of tears, Caitlin reached out and hugged him. “I know you did,” she said brokenly. “I know.”

  He clung close and so did she, their bodies warm and snug and comforting. It started out that way at least, but as the seconds ticked on, and as Caitlin thrilled to be needed by him, the embrace turned decidedly sexual. The smooth, sleek skin of his back drew her fingers, and her hips instinctively melded with his.

  “Caitlin.”

  His low voice turned her on, too. Everything about him turned her on. He was unpolished. Physical. Sharply intelligent. Fascinating.

  And fiercely aroused.

  He looked at her, and it was far more than the heat and hunger that drew her. Whether he knew it or not, he did need her, needed her strength and affections. Her love.

  She wanted to give it.

  She slipped her arms around his neck at the same time that he caught her up against him. His body was strong and hard and grieving. The combination was irresistible.

  “Again,” she whispered, kissing his jaw, his ear, whatever she could reach. “I want you again.”

  “No, it’ll hurt you,” he protested softly. “You’ll get sore.”

  “Don’t make me seduce you,” she said, and he laughed, turning his face so that their mouths met, only it wasn’t the gentle kiss she’d been expecting. Instead, it was deep and wet and long and had them both straining for more.

  “Please, Joe,” she whispered. “You’ll never hurt me.”

  He moaned, his forehead against hers. “I can’t resist you, not for anything.” He dragged her down to the thick carpet, then took her face in his hands and kissed her again, a carnal mating of their tongues, a mimic of what he really wanted to do to her. He touched her first with his hot gaze, then opened the shirt covering her, spreading it wide.

  Slowly, he lowered his body to hers, grace and power blending into one. He took her to new heights by just touching her with his magic fingers. He tore off his sweats so they were skin to skin. He was sensual and uninhibited, and he encouraged the same from her, caressing and kissing every inch of her until she was panting his name.

  When he slid down between her thighs, replacing his fingers with his lips, she arched up and begged. It wasn’t necessary; his open mouth unerringly found her. One stroke from his nimble tongue and she exploded. Instantly. Without control.

  Chest heaving, body slick with perspiration, hair sticking to her face, she looked up at the ceiling and blinked in stunned surprise. Her body rippled with aftershocks. “Wow.”

  “Again,” he demanded, cupping her, stroking her back into a frenzy, back to the point of no return, until bright lights blinded her, until her body went taut as a bow, then shuddered again and again.

  “Wow,” she repeated when she could finally manage as she lay limp and replete on the floor.

  Joseph’s skin was also slick when he levered himself above her and bridged her body with his arms. “Such a profound statement.”

  She ran her hands through his hair. “Then how about more?”

  “Caitlin—”

  “Don’t make me beg again.”

  He entered her, then, watching her flushed face carefully. She sighed with pleasure. He pushed deeper. Her breath quickened and so did his, and eyes locked with hers, he pushed deeper still. When he was fully seated within her, they both moaned.

  He pressed his forehead against hers. “Tell me you’re okay.”

  “I’m...so much more than okay.”

  He began to move and she raised her hips to meet his hungry thrusts. Though each one threatened to toss him over the edge, he held back, waiting for her.

  When she climaxed, she dug her fingers into his skin and cried out his name, shuddering long and hard. It was more than he could take. Burying his face in her neck, he allowed himself to follow her into oblivion.

  “OKAY, YOU CAN SEDUCE ME,” he gasped, and she laughed.

  They stared at each other, and their smiles faded slowly.

  “Please, let me do this for you,” he whispered. They were lying entwined on the soft carpeting, looking at the high ceiling, listening to the rain pound the roof. “Please let me give you this place.”

  “You know, I think I’ve figured something out.” She sat up and slipped his shirt back on with a smile. She loved wearing his clothes. “I don’t think my father meant to forget me. He just wanted to show me something.”

  Guilt stabbed at him, and he wished with all his might Edmund hadn’t asked for his silence. She looked so beautiful sitting there covered only by his shirt, still flowing from their lovemaking.

  Beautiful and brave.

  But all he could think about was the secret he was keeping from her. The secret his mentor—her father—had asked him to keep.

  She was right. Edmund hadn’t forgotten her; he’d tried to protect her, the only way he knew. Through Joe.

  And Joe had let them both down.

  His heart hurt just looking at her. That unwanted panic surged again when he realized what was happening to him. That despite his promises to himself, he just kept falling for her deeper and deeper.

  He loved her.

  “I think my father just wanted me to learn to support myself, you know? I always resented him saying that, and because of that resentment, I never bothered to learn when he was alive. But he was right. I can see how selfishly I’d been living. This has helped me grow up, and at twenty-four, it’s about time.”

  He stared at her. “How can you be so generous? So understanding?”

  “It’s just facts.” She reached out and hugged him. His heart broke.

  Sorry, Edmund, he pleaded silently. Forgive me, but I have to do this.

  He had to tell the truth. “Caitlin.” His voice was hoarse, and for the life of him he could’t force himself to return her sweet smile. “I have to show you something.”

  He drew her to her feet, using the excuse to hold her close one more time, for he held no illusions.

  This would be the last time.

  “It’s upstairs,” he said. “Will you come with me?”

  “Anywhere,” she said simply, and his chest tightened all the more.

  In his room, he went to his jeans, which were still lying on the floor. Slipping them on, he pulled out Edmund’s letter from the pocket.

  Caitlin recognized her father’s writing. “What’s this?” she asked, looking at him.

  “Read it.”

  “Oh, my God,” she breathed, sinking onto the bed as she did just that. “He ran out of money.... He asked you to take care of me.” She closed her eyes on the mortification. “And I thought I was doing it on my own.” She let out a choked laugh. “Not only did he make you give me a job—he had such a low opinion of me that he thought you would have to help teach me to support myself!”

  “No, no Caitlin, it’s not like that—”