Page 59 of Boss in the Bedsheets

There was an extra layer of goodness because he didn't do any of these things with the intention of being arrogant or outwardly dominant. It came as naturally to him as his mercurial moods. He had no idea how much raw, assertive confidence shone like a halo around him.

I had to admit there was another reason I didn't give him my full attention during these moments. If I devoted any time at all to watching him lean against the door or stand behind his desk with a hand on his waist while he frowned into a phone conversation, I'd probably rip his pants off. No exaggeration.

"My mother texted just now," he announced. "She'll be here in fifteen."

I shot a glance at the wall clock. "Wow. Where did the afternoon go?"

"You can skip this dress fitting thing for my sister. I'll take care of it."

Still seated at my desk, I asked, "Are you offering because you think I can't handle your mother and sister or because you don't want to go to the doctor alone?"

"I know you can. I'm saying you don't have to," he replied, dodging all talk of his visit to the specialist. All day, he'd insisted his shoulder was nearly back to normal and when he didn't think I'd notice, he hit up the tiny bottle of over-the-counter pain reliever in his desk drawer.

"And you don't want to visit the doctor all by yourself," I added, busy organizing documents for tomorrow. I needed everything in place now because I didn't want to be running around crazy while the first part of my plan to get Ash's office functioning at top speed launched.

He made a noise, something that suggested he wouldn't admit anything of that sort, then said, "If you're sure about doing this dress thing, I'll meet you there when I'm finished."

"You don't have to make it sound like we're parting for sixteen years." Finally, I swiveled my chair around to face him. "It's only a few hours, Ashville. You will survive, I promise."

"I know that," he grumbled.

"You're in a mood." I eyed him, the haughty fold of his arms, the scowl dug into his face, even the broody way he cocked his hip. "What's that all about?"

He lifted his brows by way of explanation, his eyes widening as if that were adequate in defining the afternoon's issues.

"Mmhmm." I shifted back toward my documents and files. I couldn't say I understood everything about accounting but I'd figured out how to tee it up for the people who did. I'd also figured out a few things about Ash's moods. He was obsessively efficient but if he didn't feel like tackling a task, it didn't matter what his schedule required of him, he wasn't doing it. He brought his A game to meetings and calls but he fell quiet once they ended, as if he was running low on words after spending so many. Cookies helped with that.

It shouldn't have surprised me after he'd released his inner filth monster but Ash devoted full minutes to growling as he watched me move around the office. Perhaps that wasn't indicative of his moody tendencies so much as the zealousness of his libido. I should've known from the moment I sat down beside him on the plane that anyone as tightly wound as him would be an almighty beast in bed.

"I'll meet you at the dress place," he said. "We'll get dinner somewhere. I owe it to you after last night."

He meant the part about leaving me to brave the big bad city on my own while he was out for a posh business dinner, not the part where he snuggled me up like a baby doll when he arrived home to find me passed out between loads of laundry.

I bit my lip to keep my sloppy grin in check. Even with Ash at my back, I was certain he'd see it otherwise. I wanted to give him my sloppiness, I wanted it very much, but I knew he'd dip his chin and frown in that way of his and say something about there being nothing heroic in putting someone to bed.

For all I knew, it was as everyday as holding the door open for the person coming in behind you yet that didn't make it any less foreign to me. I couldn't remember anyone gathering me up and tucking me into bed before. No one had ever held me through a night not punctuated by sex of some sort. No one had ever held me like I was important enough for them to hold on.

The daffy part of this was I'd slept through most of it. I was a light, fitful, somewhat insomniac sleeper though I barely remembered him stripping me down or settling me beneath the blankets. It was as though my mind and body knew to trust Ash, knew we were safe here with him, and we didn't need to be on guard all the time.

"You must stop agonizing over last night," I said.

"I'm not agonizing. I'm stating I want an evening with you without the interruption of clients or sisters." He grabbed the back of my chair, spun it toward him. He flicked a hand toward the documents. "Put that down. Come here."

"You can wait a second." I swiveled back to the desk, taking care to set the papers I'd sorted on one side and those still in a garbled mess on the other. I did not want to start this process all over. That, and waiting was good for Ash. It gave him something new to growl about and took his mind off everything else.

When I was ready, I pushed out of the chair and into his waiting arms. He kissed my hair like always and held me tight, exhaling softly as if this contact came as a relief. It was a relief to me too. His touch had put me at ease since he fell asleep on my shoulder and all the fear and anxiety I'd accumulated in my break from Denver and its associated parts hushed.

I chose to accept this about us rather than analyze it. Nothing good could come of me annotating the reasons I'd thoroughly melted into this man's life nor him into the new construct I called my life.

"I already know you can hold your own with my mother and Mag but don't let either of them pump you for information." He skimmed his hand down my spine and under the thin cotton of my sweater to rest on the small of my back. "They'll ask lots of nice, innocent questions and then they'll be back at my apartment, taking measurements of the guest room to turn it into a nursery."

"Don't be obtuse. They'd require us to move out of the city first. Somewhere with room togrow."

He made a deep, raspy sound in agreement that I felt as much as I heard. "At least two bedrooms for the babies. Maybe three."

"Why stop at three when you could have four?" I joked.

Another rasp, another growl, and then a hand clamped on my hip. "Why ask that question when I'm not inside you?"