Midnight Under the Mistletoe

When she finished each task, she placed it in the proper pile. Standing, she gathered the work she had completed and put papers for Zach into his in-box. His back was turned as he worked at his computer and she looked at the thick hair curling on the back of his head.

She had not expected to be working in the same room with him. Also, she hadn’t expected to work for someone who took her breath and set her pulse racing just by a glance from his sky-blue eyes.

With a deep sigh, she placed letters in the box for mail and then she started to file.

She looked across the room to see him setting papers in a pile. He picked up the letters in his in-box, glanced at her to catch her watching him again. She turned away to work on her computer, in seconds concentrating on what she was doing for the next half hour. She finished another stack and picked them up to take to his in-box and this time when she glanced his way, she met his gaze.

He seemed to be sitting and watching her. She picked up the papers and carried them to his desk, all the time aware of his steady observation.

As she started to put the letters into the box, he took them and riffled through them before looking at her. “You’re a fast worker. And an accurate one.”

“Thank you. I try to be.”

“I figured with all the work I’ve piled on you this morning, you’d be out of here as fast as the others.”

“I intend to stay,” she said, amused, and realizing he might have been testing to see how she worked. She went back to her desk, again having that tingly feeling across her shoulders, certain he was watching her.

When she glanced at him, he had settled back to read. In seconds, he placed the letter in the stack beside him on his desk.

What kind of man did she work for? When she had gone to work at Z.A.D. Enterprises, she hadn’t given much thought to the head of the business because she’d heard he was rarely in the Dallas office. The business comprised primarily of demolition, but also had a trucking company, an architectural firm and a concrete company. The international company had offices scattered worldwide and she heard Zachary Delaney traveled constantly from site to site, something she would detest. Other than that and the recent grumbling by Brenna, she knew little about him. Not one of the secretaries who had preceded her had said anything about his appeal, about his looks, about anything except he had proven difficult to work for. Maya, as well as Brenna, had thought he was unreceptive and uncommunicative. All had complained the workload was too heavy and she had to agree it was a lot, but it made time fly. On the other hand, around the office the word had always been that he was friendly. Perhaps part of his surly reputation with some secretaries was caused by his being injured and isolated on a ranch.

She returned to the stack, until she heard the scrape of a chair.

He stood and stretched, flexing muscles in his arms. When he glanced her way, she was embarrassed to be caught staring at him again.

“Want some lunch?” Without waiting for her answer, he motioned. “C’mon, we’ll get something to eat. Rosie will have something fixed.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I still have letters, though.”

“C’mon. You’ll like Rosie’s cooking and she’ll be disappointed if you don’t come eat. Those letters aren’t urgent.”

“Very well. You’re the boss and I don’t want to hurt her feelings.” Glancing at her watch, Emma was surprised it was half past twelve. “I didn’t realize the time.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said, grinning at her. Creases appeared on either side of his mouth in an enticing smile that caused her to smile in return.

“So, Emma, tell me about yourself since we’ll be working together for the next month or so.”

Satisfaction flared because he must mean she would get to stay. “There’s not much to tell. I’ve been at Z.A.D. for two years now. I have an apartment in Dallas and have two sisters and two brothers. My sisters, Sierra and Mary Kate, and Connor, my older brother, are married. Bobby and I are single. What about you?”

“I have two brothers, it was three, one is deceased. My older brother became guardian of our little niece, Caroline.”

“That’s sad. Is your niece’s mother deceased, too?”

“No, her mother walked out when Caroline was a baby. She didn’t want to be tied down with responsibilities, although she had a nanny and someone to cook and clean.”

“I can’t imagine,” Emma said, staring at him.

He shrugged. “One more thing to sour me on marriage. My older brother felt the same way until this year. He just married in September.”

“You don’t want to get married and have a family?”

His mouth quirked in a crooked smile. “Not even remotely. The weeks I’m spending here recuperating are probably the longest I’ve stayed home in Texas in I don’t know when. I’m a traveler.”

“I’ve heard you work all over the world and I know Z.A.D. has offices worldwide. I have a vastly different life. I don’t want to miss a weekend with my family.”

“We’re poles apart there,” he remarked with a smile, directing her into a large kitchen with an adjoining dining room that held a table and chairs, a sofa, a fireplace, two wingback chairs and a bar.

“What’s for lunch, Rosie? Something smells tempting,” he said, raising a lid on a pot on the stove. A stocky woman in a uniform bustled around the kitchen. Her graying hair was in a bun and glasses perched on her turned-up nose.

“Chicken soup there and I have quesadillas or turkey melt sandwiches—your preference.”

“How about soup, plus—” He paused and looked questioningly at Emma. “Either of the choices have any appeal?”

“Of course. Quesadillas, please.”

“Good choice. Rosie’s are special. Soup and quesadillas it is. We can help ourselves, Rosie.”

Bowls and plates were on the counter. With that steady awareness of him at her side, Emma helped herself to a small bowl of soup, surprised when Zach set down his dishes and held her chair as she sat down. The gesture made their lunch together seem far less like boss and secretary eating together than a man and a woman on a date. Rosie appeared with a coffeepot, which Emma declined and Zach accepted.

When he sat, she said, “I’m sure everyone asks, what drew you to demolition?”

“A child’s love of tearing something down, probably. I have an engineering degree and I almost went to architecture school. I have architects working for me so we build where we tear down. We build sometimes where nothing has stood. I find it fascinating work.”

“I hear you go all over the world.” She didn’t add that she knew he was wealthy enough he would never have to work a day if he didn’t want to.

The Delaney wealth was well publicized. She had never known anyone like him before. His love of travel was foreign to her. His disregard for family and marriage dismayed her even more than his apparent disregard for his family history. He had a lifestyle she could not imagine, but the head of the company was light-years from her clerical job, which provided an excellent way to save money to finish her college education.

“So, Zach, your favorite locale is where?” she asked as Rosie brought a platter with steaming quesadillas to set between them.

“There’s too many to have a favorite. I love Paris, I love Torres del Paine, Iguazu Falls, the city of New York. They’re all interesting. Where’s your favorite?”

“Home with my family,” she said, smiling at him, and he shook his head.

“Okay, I’ll rephrase my question,” he said. “Where’s your favorite place outside of Texas?”

She lowered her fork. “I’ve never been outside of Texas.”

One dark eyebrow arched as surprise flashed briefly in his blue eyes. “Never been outside of Texas,” he repeated, studying her as if she had announced she had another set of ears beneath her red hair.

“No, I’m happy here.”

“You might be missing something,” he said, still scrutinizing her with open curiosity.

“I don’t think so, therefore, that’s really all that matters, right?” she asked, certain after today he would have satisfied his curiosity about her and lunch with the boss would cease.

“You’re missing some wonderful places and you don’t even know it.”

She smiled at him again, thinking he might be missing some wonderful family companionship and didn’t even know it. “As long as I’m content, it doesn’t matter.”

“So tell me about this family of yours and what they all do.”

“My family lives near me in Dallas. Dad is an accountant and my mom is a secretary. My younger brother works part-time and is in school at the University of North Texas. I’ve taken classes to become a teacher. This semester I didn’t enroll, but I hope to start back soon.”

“How far along are you?”

“I have a little more than half the credits I need. Back to my family—in addition to my siblings, I have five small nieces and three nephews. We have assorted other relatives, grandparents, aunts and uncles, who live in the same general area.”

“Big family.”

“My siblings and I visit my parents on weekends,” she said. “So do my aunts and uncles. There are anywhere from twenty to thirty or forty of us when we all get together.”

He paused as he started to drink his water, giving her a polite smile as if she said they spent every weekend at the park so they could play on the slides and swings.

“My family is definitely not that together,” he said. “We go our separate ways. Dad’s deceased and Mom disappeared from our lives when we were young.”

“We have different lifestyles,” she said, thinking this was a man she couldn’t possibly ever be close to even if circumstances had been different. His world and hers were poles apart. Their families were so different—hers a huge part of her life, his nearly nonexistent, what with his father being deceased and his mother walking out years earlier. Those events had to influence him and make him the man he was today. This job would be brief and then she probably would never see him again. “The quesadilla is delicious,” she said.

“I told you Rosie is a good cook. So, is there any special person in your life right now? I assume no one objected to you taking this job.”

“Not at all and there’s no special person at the moment. As long as I can go home for the weekends and holidays, I’m fine.”

“I’m not sure I’ve been involved—friends or otherwise—with someone as tied into home and family.”

“I’m your secretary—that’s different from your women friends.”

“We can be friends,” he said, looking amused, and a tingle ran across her nerves. In tiny subtle ways he was changing their relationship from professional to personal, something she did not want. With every discovery about him, she saw what opposites they were. This was not a man who would ever fit into her world or her life other than on a physical level. She definitely did not fit into his.

Surprised that he was even interested, she had to wonder. She had never heard a word of gossip about him even remotely trying to have an outside relationship with an employee. Far from it—occasional remarks were made to new single women to forget about impressing the boss—if they even got to know him—except through efficient work.

“We can be friends to a degree in a professional manner,” she said, wondering if she sounded prim.

“Emma, we’re going to be under the same roof, working together for weeks. Relax. This isn’t the office and it’s not that formal. If I have something critical, a letter I just have to get out, an appointment that has to be made by a certain time, I’ll tell you.”

“Fair enough,” she said, feeling as if their relationship just made another subtle shift. Or was it her imagination because she found him so physically attractive? “So you don’t gather often with the family, you travel a lot—what else do you do?”

“Most of the time for the past few years my life has been tied up in my work. I have a yacht, but I’m seldom on it. I ski. I have a villa in Italy. I have a condo in New York, one in Chicago and I spend the most time between Paris and Chicago where we have offices. I like cities.”

She placed her fork across her plate and stood. “That was a delicious lunch. If you’ll excuse me, I should get back to the letters.”

“Sit and relax, Emma. Those letters aren’t urgent and they’ll be there after lunch. I’m enjoying talking to you. There’s no rush. And I suspect some tidbit will appear for dessert.”

Surprised, she sat again. “I’m not in the habit of arguing with my supervisor. I don’t think I can possibly eat dessert. This was more lunch than I usually have.”

“Indulge yourself while you can,” he said. Pushing his plate forward, he placed his arms on the table and leaned closer. “Emma, this is lunch. We’re not at work. Forget the supervisor-secretary relationship, which doesn’t have to exist 24/7. This is just two people having lunch together,” he drawled in that husky voice that was soft as fur. Vivid blue eyes held her attention while his words poured over her and the moment shifted, holding a cozy intimacy. “Beautiful green eyes, great red hair—they sort of lend themselves to forgetting all about business,” he said softly.

“We’re about to cross a line we shouldn’t cross,” she whispered while her heart hammered.

“We crossed that line when you came in the door,” he replied.

Two

Her heart thudded because his words changed their relationship. She realized her reply would set the standard. For a fleeting second, how tempted she was to flirt back, to give him a seductive reply that was on the tip of her tongue. For the moment, she wished he were someone else and not her boss.

Following the path of wisdom, practicality and caution, she smiled and chuckled, shaking her head and trying to diffuse the electrifying tension that had sprung between them. “I don’t think so,” she replied lightly. “We can’t. I’m here for a secretarial job, which sets definite limits. I’m not crossing that line. If that’s part of my work—then tell me now.”

“Definitely not part of the job,” he said, leaning back and studying her with a faint smile and amusement dancing in his blue eyes. “As rare for me as for you in an employer-employee situation. But we’re not going to be able to shut it off that easily. As a matter of fact, I think the chemistry is in spite of both of us, not because of either of us wanting it to happen. That’s a big difference and rather fascinating.”

“We’ll not pursue it,” she persisted. Rosie appeared with a tray that held four choices of desserts. “What would you like, Miss Hillman?” she asked.

“Please just call me Emma,” she said, looking at luscious desserts. She was no longer hungry, yet Rosie stood with a broad smile and Emma knew how her own mother liked for everyone to take some of her desserts, so she selected a small slice of chocolate cheesecake.

Zach took a monstrous concoction of vanilla ice cream and brownies topped with fudge sauce with a sprinkling of fresh raspberries.

“You must work out big-time to turn that into muscle,” she observed and the moment the words were spoken, she wished she could take them back because she had just tossed the conversation back to the personal. “This is so much food. What does Rosie do with leftovers? Save them for dinner?” Emma interjected, trying to get the conversation on a different note as rapidly as possible.

He flashed a slight smile as he shook his head. “I work out and my injured foot has thrown me off schedule. As for the leftovers—there are a lot of people on this ranch. She’ll pass them on after lunch and they’ll be gone by midafternoon. You think all those hungry cowboys won’t light into her cooking? They’ll devour it.”

She smiled, glad the moment had been diffused and they were back on a harmless topic. “This is delicious,” she said as she ate a bite. She looked up to meet his steady gaze that fluttered her insides.

“She’ll be glad to know you liked it. Rosie’s been cooking for us since I was a little kid.”

She smiled and they enjoyed their desserts, then she said, “Do you mind if I put a few family pictures on my desk?”

“Emma, within reason, put whatever you want on your desk or around your desk or in your room upstairs. I don’t care what you do unless you want to paint something or make a permanent change.”

“Of course not. Thanks. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think this time I will get back to work,” she said, folding her napkin and standing. When she picked up her plate, he touched her wrist lightly.

“Leave the dishes or you’ll get a Rosie lecture. She’s in charge here and she wants to do things herself and her way,” he said, releasing her wrist as he stood and walked around the table.

Smiling, she set her plate down. “I know how my mother and one of my sisters are. Sometimes they just want all of us out of the kitchen.”

“You’re so tied into your family. Are you going to be able to stay away from Dallas for the length of this job?”

“I gave that some serious thought, but this isn’t permanent and as far as I can see, this assignment is a great opportunity because it’s a hike in pay, even temporarily, and I’m saving money to finish my education. And I did ask for the weekends off to go home.”

“We both hope it works out. So far, so good. I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to last the morning, because several before you didn’t. I’ve been pleasantly surprised.”

“Glad to hear I’m up to snuff. So far so good in working for you,” she replied with a smile.

One dark eyebrow arched quizzically as he looked down at her. “You expected an ogre. Aah—let me guess—rumors from your predecessors.”

Still smiling, she nodded. They entered the office and she left to return to the correspondence and filing. Within the hour she noticed he had stopped heaping work for her and she could see where she would catch up with all he had given her.

No matter how lost she got in the assignments, she couldn’t shake her awareness of him. Carrying papers to his desk, she often met his gaze while he talked on the phone. Each time it was the same as a physical contact with a sizzle.

Common sense warned this job would not be as simple and straightforward as she had envisioned. When he talked on the phone, his voice was usually low enough that she couldn’t hear much of what he was saying and she made no effort to try to hear. She caught snatches of words, enough to know he was discussing problems involving his work.

As she placed a letter in the box for mail, Zach got off his phone. “Emma, take a break. The afternoon is more than half gone.”

“I’m fine.”

“Take a break—walk around the place, go outside, go to the kitchen and get a snack—whatever you want to do. Don’t argue or I’ll come get you and we’ll go for a stroll. As much as I can stroll right now.”

She laughed. “What a threat,” she said, placing mail in the box and hurrying out of the room as she received a grin from him. She hoped he didn’t guess moments like that played havoc with her insides. How tempting to head back to work just to get him to spend the next few minutes with her.

She stood in the wide, empty hall and wondered what to do, finally going toward the kitchen to get a cup of tea. She suspected there was a very well-stocked pantry.

“Afternoon, Emma,” Rosie greeted her.

“It smells wonderful in here.”

“Roast for dinner. Can I get you something?”

“Yes, thank you. If possible, I’d like a cup of hot tea.”

“Of course,” Rosie replied. “Looks as if you might be the one who stays.”

“I hope so.”

Rosie chuckled. “Those others looked frazzled and unhappy from the first morning. I would have sent one packing faster than Zach did. Have a seat and I’ll brew your tea—or if you want a breath of fresh air, go outside and I’ll bring it to you.”

“Thanks, Rosie.”

“You can take it back to your desk if you want. Zach isn’t particular about food in the office if you don’t leave crumbs or make a big mess.”

“I won’t,” Emma replied, smiling. “I’ll wait outside,” she added, stepping out onto the patio and strolling to the pool to look at the crystal water that was almost the same blue as Zach’s eyes.

When she finished her tea, she went to her room to retrieve a small box of family pictures. She had already distributed some pictures in the bedroom. When instructed to arrive with her things packed she had brought what she really wanted with her. She stopped to look around again, still amazed at the size and beauty of where she would stay.

When she returned to her desk, Zach was on the phone and she had more work waiting. After placing her pictures on her desk and table, she focused on correspondence, so lost in concentration she was startled when Zach spoke to her.

“It’s half past five. Just because the work is here in the house, you don’t need to stay all hours. We’ll close the office now. I eat a late dinner, but you can eat whenever you want—Rosie will be in the kitchen until eight. After that she’ll have cold or easily heated choices on a chalkboard menu.”

“Thanks,” she said, wondering if she had eaten her last meal with the boss. If she had, it would be the wisest thing to happen. At the same time, she couldn’t prevent her slight disappointment.

“You’ve done good work today, Emma. I hope you like the job.”

She wanted to laugh and say that he sounded surprised. Instead, she merely nodded. “Thank you. I think this will be good.”

He gave her a long look that killed the impersonal moments that had just passed. Once again her nerves tingled, invisible sparks danced in the air and she could feel heat rising. In spite of logic, she didn’t want him to go.

Turning away, he walked out of the room without saying anything further. She stared at the empty doorway. The chemistry had not changed. He seemed to fight it as much as she, which was a relief and made the situation easier.

Zach continued to pile on a lot of work. While there wasn’t as much as that first morning, letters to write, papers to proof, appointments to set, phone calls and various tasks streamed to her desk. Time passed swiftly as she worked diligently and kept up with what he sent to her. There were no more lunches together. Sometimes he worked straight through and then stopped about four. Sometimes he ate at his desk. He continued to make an effort to keep their relationship impersonal, which suited her completely. No matter how cool he was, there still was no way to stop that acute consciousness she had of him as an appealing male.

Thursday the work he gave her in the morning was done by noon. When she returned after lunch he sat by a large cardboard box filled with papers.

“Want to tackle some of the old letters and memorabilia?”

“Sure,” she replied, watching him pull another chair near his. “That’s a lot of letters.”

“Many were written by my great-great-grandfather to his sister, his brother, later his wife. They were all saved and somehow ended up back with our family. Probably some relative didn’t want them and another one took them.”

“Zach, that’s wonderful. I’d think you’d want to read each of these yourself.”

“Hardly. They are letters from an old codger who settled out here and struggled to carve out a life on the plains. He was probably a tough old bird and about as lovable as a prickly porcupine. I think you are romanticizing him. Sit here beside me so whenever you have a question you can ask me. Want anything to drink before we start?”

“No, thank you, I’m fine.” As she crossed the room, his gaze raked briefly over her, making every inch tingle. She became aware of the navy sweater and matching slacks she had pulled on this morning, her hair in a ponytail.

Catching a whiff of his enticing aftershave, she sat beside him.

“The big basket is for letters and papers that go to the shredder,” he instructed. Sitting only inches from him, she was lost in his blue eyes and could barely focus on what he told her. She was even closer than she had been that first morning and it was distracting beyond measure.