The Bosses

COLLECTION

August 2019

Forbidden Nights with the Boss

September 2019

Becoming the Boss

October 2019

Seduced by the Boss

November 2019

Flirting with the Boss

January 2020

Desired by the Boss

February 2020

Claimed by the Boss

March 2020

Taming the Boss

April 2020

Ruled by the Boss

About the Authors

SARAH M. ANDERSON may live east of the Mississippi River, but her heart lies out west on the Great Plains. Sarah’s book A Man of Privilege won a RT Book Reviews 2012 Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. The Nanny Plan was a 2016 RITA® winner for Contemporary Romance: Short.

Sarah spends her days having conversations with imaginary cowboys and billionaires. Find out more about Sarah’s heroes at www.sarahmanderson.com and sign up for the new-release newsletter at http://eepurl.com/nv39b

A fifth generation Californian, TERESA CARPENTER lives in San Diego within miles of her extensive family and knows with their help she can accomplish anything. She takes particular joy and pride in her nieces and nephews who are all bright, fit, shining stars of the future. If she’s not at a family event, you’ll usually find her at home reading or writing her next grand romance.

USA TODAY bestseller MICHELLE CELMER is the author of more than forty books for Mills & Boon. You can usually find her in her office with her laptop loving the fact that she gets to work in her pyjamas.

Michelle loves to hear from her readers! Visit Michelle on Facebook at Michelle Celmer Author, or email at michelle@michellecelmer.com

Taming the Boss

Twins for the Billionaire

Sarah M. Anderson

The Boss’s Surprise Son

Teresa Carpenter

The Secretary’s Secret

Michelle Celmer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90683-2

TAMING THE BOSS

Twins for the Billionaire © 2017 Sarah M. Anderson The Boss’s Surprise Son © 2011 Teresa Carpenter The Secretary’s Secret © 2007 Michelle Celmer

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Twins for the Billionaire

Back Cover Text

Dedication

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Epilogue

The Boss’s Surprise Son

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Secretary’s Secret

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Epilogue

About the Publisher

Twins for the Billionaire

Sarah M. Anderson

Seducing the Single Mom

Widowed mom Sofia Bingham needs a job—fast! Her babies won’t feed themselves. Working for real estate tycoon Eric Jenner is the perfect solution. But her childhood buddy is all grown up now…and tempting as hell. Surely one unforgettable night of passion wouldn’t hurt? After that, they can go back to being all business!

But Eric doesn’t agree that they should put their red-hot romance on ice. He can’t deny his connection to Sofia’s adorable twins—or his consuming desire for their mother. What will it take to convince her that he’s playing for keeps?

To the real Adelina and Eduardo – thanks for all

your years of friendship and support with

my family!

Prologue

“So that’s it?” Eric Jenner stared at the private investigator’s report in his hand. The baby wasn’t his. Somehow, he’d known this would be the answer.

Funny how it still hurt like hell.

“That’s it.” The investigator stood. “Unless there was something else you needed?”

Eric almost laughed. What did he need? He needed a happy ending to this whole mess. But it was clear he wasn’t going to get one. Not today. Maybe not ever.

He gritted his teeth. Bad enough that he’d been stood up at the altar—literally. Six months later, the press was still having a field day with the photos of Eric looking stunned next to the priest. In front of six hundred wedding guests. In the Holy Name Cathedral.

But this? He knew he couldn’t keep it quiet forever. Prudence had married less than two weeks after she’d left Eric at the altar. Apparently, it was true love. How else to explain Prudence running away with an accountant from her father’s company? Who’d fathered Prudence’s son and was, according to the PI’s account, making her the happiest woman in the world.

Eric was thrilled for them. Really.

He breathed in slowly and exhaled even slower. “If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know,” he said to the investigator. The man nodded and left.

Eric read the report again. Oddly, he didn’t miss Prudence. He didn’t lie awake in bed at night, missing her touch. He didn’t regret putting the condo he’d bought for her back on the market.

He’d clearly dodged a bullet. Except for one small detail.

That detail had been born at seven pounds, six ounces. He stared at the picture the investigator had included. The baby was bundled up in Prudence’s arms, his eyes closed and a little smile on his face. She’d named him Aaron.

Something tightened in Eric’s chest. No, Eric didn’t miss Prudence at all. But…

Everywhere he went, people had babies. Suddenly, he couldn’t avoid them. Even his oldest friend, Marcus Warren, had recently adopted a baby boy. After he’d married his assistant, of all people.

Eric and Marcus had always competed with each other—who had made the first million (Eric), the first billion (Marcus), who had the finest cars (it changed all the time) or the biggest boat. Eric always won that one, hands down.

It wasn’t like the contest was over. But the rules had changed and Eric wasn’t ready for this new game. He wasn’t ready to stand by as his best friend cooed over his son while his wife looked at them both with love in her eyes.

It should have been nauseating.

Eric and Marcus’s entire friendship was built on one-upmanship. But a loving wife and an adorable child?

And now this news from Prudence was the final blow.

One thing was clear. Eric had never lost this badly.

To hell with this.

He was Eric Jenner. He owned a quarter of the Chicago skyline, some of the most expensive properties in the world. He’d officially joined the exclusive ranks of billionaires. He was, he had been told, good-looking and good in bed. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t buy.

What he needed now was distraction. The kind he’d find in the arms of someone new who’d drive thoughts of happy families far from his mind. He hadn’t lost anything. He was glad Prudence was gone—that marriage would have been a disaster. He’d gotten lucky. He wasn’t tied down. He could do whatever he wanted—and what he wanted was everything.

The world was his for the taking. All he had to do was snap his fingers and whatever he wanted was his.

Abruptly, he slammed the report shut and jammed it in the bottom drawer of his desk.

Well.

Almost anything.

It turned out there were some things money couldn’t buy.

One

Ten months later…

The elevator door dinged. Sofia Bingham waited for the rest of the crowd to exit first, nerves swirling in her stomach. She was really doing this—interviewing for the job of office manager at Jenner Properties.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stepped into the foyer of Eric Jenner’s real estate empire. In her mind, this office had looked exactly the same as Eric’s father’s real estate office. Jenner and Associates had been a regal office located on the ground floor of a four-story building. John and Elise Jenner had run their exclusive agency on the Gold Coast of Chicago, catering to the rich and the ultrarich.

Her father, Emilio, had started as a janitor before moving up to staging houses for the Jenners and then starting his own company as a bilingual real estate agent. Sofia’s mother, Rosa, had been the Jenners’ housekeeper and Elise Jenner had had a soft spot for Sofia. Elise had showered Sofia with dresses and toys.

When Sofia had been growing up, the Jenners had seemed like the richest people in the world.

None of that had prepared her for this.

Jenner Properties took up the whole of the fortieth floor of the skyscraper at 310 South Wacker Drive. She could see Lake Michigan from here, the sun glittering off the water like a mirage come to life.

She smiled. It had been years since she had seen Eric Jenner, but she wasn’t surprised he had a good view of the lake. He’d always loved the water. Not only had he taught her to swim in his family’s pool but he’d even taught her how to sail his toy sailboats so they could race.

Around her, more elevators opened and more people poured out. Jenner and Associates had been run primarily by John and Elise Jenner and two other agents. But Jenner Properties was staffed by a small army of very serious-looking people, all of whom wore good suits and better shoes. Sofia looked down at her skirt and jacket combo, the nicest outfit she owned that didn’t have baby food stains on it. It was cute—a black-and-white polka-dotted skirt with a white jacket over a black blouse with a bow at the neck—but it wasn’t in the same class of clothing as the people rushing past her.

She stepped to the side and stared out at the lake. She was here for a job interview. The position of office manager had opened up and Sofia simply couldn’t keep working as a real estate agent. She needed regular hours and a regular paycheck. It was easy to say that she needed both of those things for her twins, Adelina and Eduardo, but the truth was, she needed them for herself.

Yes, this job paid enough that she could hire a nanny to help Mom out. Sofia had been a real estate agent with her husband, David. She couldn’t be one without him anymore.

There were other office manager jobs she could apply for, but this one paid more. That wasn’t the only reason she was here, however…

Would Eric remember her?

There was no reason he should. She hadn’t seen him since he’d turned sixteen and gone away to prep school in New York. Their paths hadn’t crossed in the fifteen years since and Sofia was no longer a gangly thirteen-year-old with crooked teeth.

So he wouldn’t recognize her. He probably wouldn’t even remember her. After all, she’d just been the daughter of the family maid and the janitor.

But she’d never forgotten him. Time might have changed her but a girl never forgot her first kiss. Even if that kiss had been the result of a dare, it still counted.

Nervously, she watched Eric’s employees file in. She needed this job, but she wanted to earn it on her own merits. She didn’t want to have to rely on an old family connection that he’d probably forgotten.

But desperate times and all that.

There was a lull in people exiting the elevators as she stepped forward to the reception desk. She and David had worked in a perfectly respectable office serving northern Chicago, Skokie, Lincolnwood, Evanston and the surrounding areas. But even the receptionist here had a nicer desk than she’d had at the office.

“Hello,” Sofia began, projecting more confidence than she felt right now. “My name is Sofia Bingham and I have a nine a.m. interview with Mr. Jenner.”

The receptionist was young, blonde and gorgeous. Her eyebrows alone were works of art, to say nothing of the trendy patterned jacket she wore. Her eyes flicked over Sofia, but she didn’t so much as frown, which had to count for something. “You’re here for the office manager position?” Even her voice sounded trendy.

“Yes.” Confident. That was Sofia. She could handle an interview. She could handle this office—although it didn’t seem to need a lot of managing.

“One moment, please.” The receptionist turned her attention to her computer screen.

Sofia’s stomach tightened with anxiety. She’d been selling real estate for over seven years and before that, she’d been helping at her parents’ agency. But managing an office like this?

This wasn’t just real estate agents. Eric Jenner no longer bought and sold houses. He bought land and built things, like this skyscraper. He employed agents and architects and interior designers and lawyers. He built exclusive office spaces and luxury apartments. And he did it so well that he had become a billionaire. Sofia didn’t stalk Eric online but it’d been hard to miss when he’d been left at the altar and then, just a few months later, been named one of Chicago’s top five eligible bachelors, following the marriage and subsequent delisting of his friend, Marcus Warren.

What was she even doing here? She didn’t know anything about billionaires. She knew how to sell houses and condos to families, not manage architects and negotiate tax breaks with municipalities. She was struggling to hold on to middle-class respectability, for crying out loud. She’d had to move back in with her parents because she couldn’t afford house payments or daycare. This was not her world.

Her chest tightened and she had trouble breathing.

Oh, no.

No, she could not have a panic attack. Not another one, not right now. She took a step back from the reception desk, the urge to flee so strong it was almost overwhelming. Two things stopped her. The first was the image of the twins in her mother’s arms this morning, all waving bye-bye to Sofia as she went off for her big interview. Mom had been training Adelina and Eduardo to blow kisses and it was the cutest thing ever. The twins needed more than Sofia could give them right now. They needed stability and safety. They needed a mom who wasn’t teetering on the edge, trying to keep everything together. To be that person for her children, she needed a steady job.

The other thing that halted her in her tracks was the sound of her name. “Ms. Bingham?”

She looked up and the air rushed out of her lungs. There he was. She’d seen pictures of him in those impossible-to-miss articles, but there was something unexpected about Eric Jenner in the flesh that shook her.

That smile, at least, hadn’t changed. But the rest of him? Eric Jenner was now over six feet tall, moving with an easy grace that projected strength and confidence. He was simply breathtaking in a way she hadn’t ever associated with him. His hair had deepened from bright copper to a rich burnished red, although his skin was still tanned. She almost grinned. Bronzed redheads were such a rare thing that it only made him all the more special.

One thing was certain—he was not the boy she remembered. His shoulders were broader, his legs more powerful as they closed the distance between them. And his eyes… When she lifted her gaze to his, he stumbled to a stop, his brow quirking and she knew he recognized her, even if he didn’t know from where. Something in her chest loosened and she could breathe again because she knew it was going to be all right.

She hoped, anyway.

Then the realization broke over his face. “Sofia?” He took a step forward before pulling up short. “I’m sorry,” he went on in a completely different voice. “You look like someone I used to know.”

She became aware that they were standing in the middle of the reception area and that, while no one was openly staring at them, a lot of people were paying attention to this conversation. She clutched the strap of her handbag harder. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Jenner,” she said because she did not want to presume anything at this point.

His face lit up and dang if that didn’t make her smile. “What are you doing here? And when did you get married?” He paused and looked at her again. A warm heat flushed her cheeks. Great. Blushing.

It only got worse when he said, “Wow. You really grew up.”

Her anxiety tried to wrestle control, but she powered through. “Actually, I’m your nine a.m. I’m here about the job.” He blinked at her. “The opening for office manager?” she prompted him.

“Oh, oh—right.” He glanced around, as if he was also just becoming aware of how this conversation might look to his employees. “This office could definitely use some management. Come on back.” He cast a critical eye around and people seemed to melt back into their offices but he did so with a faint smile on his face. Sofia caught the receptionist grinning and rolling her eyes. Eric saw it, too, and said, “All right, Heather—back to work.”

“Of course, Mr. Jenner,” Heather the receptionist said, still smiling. She had perfectly white, perfectly even teeth, which was almost enough to distract Sofia from the sly way she winked.

Eric winked back.

Sofia’s heart began to pound again. What did she know about him, really? The boy he’d been had been someone privileged and wealthy but still kind to a little girl. He’d taught her how to swim and roller-skate and had, on more than one occasion, played tea with her and some of his mother’s delicate china dolls.

But that didn’t mean he was the same person now. Yes, he was rich, handsome—and single. Of course he would make eyes at the beautiful young receptionist. And the beautiful young receptionist—well, she wasn’t stupid. Of course she would make eyes back.

Sofia had just begun to feel invisible when Eric turned back to her. “I had no idea you were applying for this job,” he said, motioning for her to follow him. “Tell me about your husband. Who was lucky enough to land Sofia Cortés?”

He said it in a way that was almost believable, the kind of benign flirting a man like Eric no doubt excelled at. But, unfortunately, it wasn’t run-of-the-mill small talk to Sofia. All she could do was keep breathing.

She didn’t say anything until he led her back into his office. The room was huge, with leather couches and a massive mahogany desk, plus a wet bar. And behind it all was a wall of glass facing due east. He had an almost perfectly unobstructed view of Lake Michigan. She didn’t sell downtown real estate, but even she knew this view was worth millions.

He closed the door behind her. For a moment, they stood with less than two feet separating them. Sofia became acutely aware of the heat of his body and it made her flush in a way that hadn’t happened in months. Years.

“What an amazing vista,” she said, striving for lighthearted—and willing him away from conversation about David. Willing away the heat she couldn’t seem to ignore.

Eric Jenner was every inch the billionaire bachelor. There was no doubt in her mind that his suit was custom-made—everything he wore was probably custom-made, right down to his socks. He’d paired a bold royal blue suit with a light pink shirt and a silk tie that probably cost as much as her car payment. It all fit him like a second skin.

A forgotten feeling began to pulse through her body, a steady pounding that got louder with each beat. For a dazed moment, she didn’t recognize it.

Desire. That’s what this tight, hot heaviness was. Want. She’d forgotten she could feel this way anymore. She’d thought…well, she’d thought she’d buried her needs with her husband.

The realization that she could still feel raw attraction was startling enough. But the fact that her body was feeling desire for Eric? Her cheeks got hotter by the second and here in the privacy of his office, there weren’t any winking receptionists or dinging elevators to distract his attention.

He stared at her, his eyes darkening. Her lungs refused to expand and she began to feel light-headed. She couldn’t want Eric and he shouldn’t be looking at her like that. That wasn’t why she’d come.

“You’ve done well for yourself,” she blurted out, making a conscious effort to look around the room. Photographs of him with famous people were mixed in with expensive-looking paintings and pictures of his buildings.

After a pause that was so quiet she was sure he could hear her pulse pounding, he said, “Was there any doubt?”

It sounded so cocky that she jerked back to look at him. He had a wolf’s grin on his face, but then everything about him softened and she almost saw the boy she’d known. “I work hard for what I have, but let’s be honest—I started from a place higher than almost everyone else, thanks to my parents.”

A little bit of the anxiety loosened in her chest. Yes, he had always been the privileged son of privileged people. But the Eric she remembered had been almost embarrassed by that fact. His parents hadn’t raised him to be an entitled, spoiled brat. How much of that boy still existed inside of him? Or was he the kind of man who hired a beautiful receptionist—or even a mildly attractive office manager—just to get her in bed?

She didn’t want him to be like that. If he was, she wasn’t sure she could destroy her fondest memories of him with reality. “How are your parents? I know they still exchange Christmas cards with my parents.”

Eric sighed, an action of extreme exaggeration that made him look younger. “They’re fine. They’re disappointed I didn’t manage to get married and start producing grandchildren, but they’re fine.” Before she could process that statement, he asked, “Your folks?”

“Doing well. I don’t know how much your parents have shared with you, but after you went away to school, my father started selling houses. Your father opened the door for him,” she added, always mindful of what the Jenners had done for her family. “It turned out there was a huge market for bilingual real estate agents and Dad was able to capitalize on that. He owns an agency in Wicker Park. Mom stays home with my children now. They spoil each other rotten.”

His eyes widened before he turned away from her and strode toward his desk. Each step put physical distance between them—but there was no missing the emotional distance that went up like a wall around him.

This was all casual small talk, every bit of it. But there was something else going on that Sofia couldn’t put her finger on. When he’d complained about his parents wanting grandbabies, it hadn’t sounded quite right. And the look in his eyes when she’d mentioned her kids? On anyone else it would’ve been longing. She couldn’t believe that someone like Eric Jenner, who literally had the world at his feet, would be interested in an old acquaintance’s babies.

He didn’t sit at the desk, didn’t turn around. Instead, he stared out at the lake. Although it was still early, she could see a few boats out on the water, ready to enjoy the beautiful summer day. “I hadn’t heard that you’d gotten married. Congratulations.” His voice was level—unfeeling, almost.

“Oh.” She couldn’t help the dejected noise that escaped. Eric half turned, his silhouette outlined in sunshine. “I’m not. I mean, I was. But he…he died.” No matter how long it’d been, her voice caught every time she had to state that fact out loud. “Seventeen months ago.” Not that she was counting the days—the hours—since the worst day of her life.

She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. If she did this quickly, it wouldn’t hurt so badly. That was the theory, anyway. “I don’t know if you’d ever heard of him—David Bingham? We worked at a real estate agency up in Evanston.”

He turned and took a step toward her and for a second, she thought he was going to fold her into his arms and she was going to let him. But he pulled up short. “Sofia,” he said, his tone gentle. “I’m sorry. I had no idea. How are you doing?”

That wasn’t small talk. That was an honest question from one of her oldest friends. God, she’d missed Eric.

It was so tempting to lie and smooth over the awkward moment with platitudes. Lord knew Eric was probably looking for an easy answer.

But none of her answers were easy. “That’s why I’m here. My twins are—”

“Twins?” he cut her off, his eyes bugging out of his head. “How old?”

“Fifteen months.”

He let out a low whistle of appreciation as his gaze traveled the length of her body. Her cheeks warmed at his leisurely inspection but then his face shuttered again. “I can’t even imagine how difficult that must have been for you. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“I…thank you. It’s been hard. Which,” she went on before he could distract her from her purpose again with his kind eyes and kinder words, “is why I’m here. David and I sold houses together and since he passed I just…can’t. I need a job with regular hours and a steady paycheck to provide for my children.” There. She’d gotten her spiel out and it’d only hurt a little.

“What are their names?”

“Adelina and Eduardo, although I call them Addy and Eddy—which my mom hates.” She pulled her phone out of her handbag and called up the most recent picture, of the twins in the bath with matching grins, wet hair sticking straight up. “They’re officially toddlers now. Mom watches them but I think she’s outnumbered most days. I’d love to hire a nanny to help out.” And pay off the bills that were piling up and put a little away for the kids’ college funds and…

The list of problems money would solve for her was long. Even at the best of times, real estate involved odd hours and an unpredictable income. But if an agent couldn’t sell a house without sobbing in the car, then the income got very predictable. Zero.

Eric took the phone. She watched him carefully as he tilted the screen and studied their little faces. “They look like you,” he said. “Beautiful.”

Her face flushed at the sincere compliment. “Thank you. They’ve kept me going.”

Because if she hadn’t had two helpless little babies that needed to be fed and rocked and loved, she might’ve curled into a ball and given up. The numbing depression and crushing panic attacks were never far, but Addy and Eddy were more than just her children. They were David’s children—all she had left of him. She couldn’t let him down. She couldn’t let herself down.

So she’d kept moving forward—one day, one hour, sometimes even just one minute at a time. It’d gotten easier. That didn’t make it easy, though.

Eric stared at the shot of her babies for a long moment before finally motioning Sofia to one of the plush leather seats before his desk. “And you want to try your hand at office management? This isn’t a typical real estate office.”

She lifted her chin again. “Mr. Jenner—”

“Eric, Sofia. We know each other too well for formalities, don’t you think?” It was a challenge, the way he said it. “I’m not sure I could think of you as Mrs. Bingham, anyway. You’ll always be Sofia Cortés to me.”

She understood because she wanted to keep him as that fun, sweet boy in her mind forever. But she couldn’t afford to romanticize the potential billionaire employer sitting behind his executive desk and she couldn’t afford to let him romanticize her.

“That’s who I was,” she said, her words coming out more gently than she meant for them to. “But that’s not who I am now. We’ve grown up, you and I. We’re not the same kids splashing in the pool we used to be and I need this job.”

His gaze met hers and she saw something there that she didn’t want to think too deeply about. “Then it’s yours.”

Two

This was a mistake. Eric knew it before the words had left his mouth. But by then, it was too late.

He had just offered the position of office manager to a woman he wasn’t entirely sure was qualified.

That was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Because it wasn’t some random woman off the street. It was Sofia Cortés. He’d practically grown up with her.

But this wasn’t the little girl he remembered from his childhood. The woman before him was—well, she was all grown up. Despite the suit jacket and skirt she wore, Eric couldn’t help but notice her body. Sofia was a woman in every sense. She came almost to his chin, her thick black hair pulled away from her face. Eric had an unreasonable urge to sink his fingers into her hair and tilt her head to the side, exposing the long line of her neck.

He shook that thought out of his head. Why hadn’t his mother told him Sofia had gotten married and had twins, much less that her husband had died? Surely Mom knew. If nothing else, those were the sorts of things that tended to make a Christmas newsletter.

“Are you… Are you sure?” Sofia asked, looking stunned.

Eric felt much the same. He always did a thorough investigation of a candidate’s skills. Even when he knew he wanted to hire them anyway, like Heather for the position of receptionist. Not only did she have the perfect look for the face of his company, but she was finishing her MBA on the company’s dime. He hadn’t hired her just because she was hot, although that never hurt. He’d hired her because she was brilliant and would transition into the contracts department. It was never too early to begin building loyalty and Eric’s staff was beyond loyal.

That was something he’d learned from his father. Nurture the best talent and pay them well and they’d fight for you. Wasn’t that why Sofia was here? Because the Jenner family had supported the Cortés family?

“Of course,” he said with a certainty he wasn’t sure was warranted. “Can you do the job?”

The color deepened along her cheeks. He was not going to notice how pretty it was on her. She didn’t look like a widow with two adorable young children.

She looked…lush. And tempting.

He would not be tempted. One of his hard and fast rules was that he didn’t hit on staff. Flirt, maybe. But he never put a valued employee in a position where they felt they couldn’t say no because he was the boss.

What a shame he was hiring Sofia, then. Because that would put her completely out of reach. Which was fine. Good. She was undoubtedly still struggling with being a widow and a single mother. She didn’t need the complications that seemed to follow Eric like shadows cast by the afternoon sun.

Sofia cleared her throat. “I’m a quick study. I helped run my dad’s office when I was in school and staged homes part-time in college. I’ve been selling ever since I graduated.” She dropped her gaze and cleared her throat. “Until…”

What had she said? Seventeen months since she had been left a widow. And her twins—two of the cutest babies he had ever seen—were fifteen months old.

Eric’s world was one of logic and calculation. Real estate was a gamble on the best of days. But he always weighed the pros and cons of any option and he never bet more than he could afford to lose.

Of course, as a billionaire, he could afford to lose a lot.

Somehow, none of the usual checks and balances weighed much with this decision. Sofia was an old friend. Her family were good people. And those babies…

“The job is yours. There’ll be a learning curve, I’m sure, but I’m confident you’ll pick it up.” Either Sofia would or she wouldn’t. He had to give her that chance. And if she didn’t, then he’d help her find a position that better fit her skill set. Something with regular hours and a paycheck that would help her raise her toddlers by herself. And if that happened…then she wouldn’t work for him, would she? He could get to know her all over again. Every inch of her.

Hell. He was not thinking about Sofia—not like that. Especially because he was still hiring her. It was the right thing to do.

Her eyes were huge, but she managed a smile. “That’s…that’s wonderful.”

“We have a generous benefits package,” he went on, pulling a number out of thin air. “The starting salary is a hundred and twenty thousand a year, with bonuses based on performance. Is it enough?”

Her mouth dropped open and she looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. He could afford to pay well because hiring the best people was worth it in the long run. But he honestly couldn’t tell from her expression if she was insulted by that amount or flabbergasted.

“You can’t be serious,” she said in a strangled voice.

Eric raised an eyebrow at her. A couple extra thousand for him was nothing. Pocket change. “How about a hundred and forty-five?”

She got alarmingly pale. “Your negotiation skills are rusty,” she finally croaked out, a hand pressed to her chest. “You’re not supposed to go up, certainly not by twenty-five thousand. A hundred and twenty is enough. More than enough.”

Eric cracked a grin at her. “And your negotiation skills…” He trailed off, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “That would’ve been the point to say make it one fifty and it’s a deal. Are you sure you sold houses?” She got even paler and he realized teasing her was not the smartest thing to do. In fact, she looked like she was on the verge of fainting. “Are you all right?” He moved to the wet bar and grabbed a bottle of sparkling water. She was breathing heavily by the time he made his way back to her. “Sofia?”

He set the water on the desk and put his fingers on the side of her neck. Her pulse fluttered weakly under his touch and her skin was clammy. “Breathe,” he ordered, pushing her head down toward her knees. He crouched next to her. “Sofia? Honey, breathe.”

They sat like that for several minutes while he rubbed her back and tried his best to sound soothing. What the hell had happened? Normally, when he offered people more money, they jumped to say yes.

But this woman had actually tried to say no.

He focused on smoothing her hair away from her forehead, on how her muscles tensed and relaxed along her spine as he rubbed her back. Even through her jacket, he could feel the warmth of her body. He couldn’t imagine touching anyone else like this.

She was still struggling for air. Was this a medical crisis? He felt for her pulse again. It was steady enough. He needed to distract her. “Remember the sailboat races?” he asked. But he didn’t pull his hand away from her. He stayed close.

“Yes,” she said softly. “You let me win sometimes.”

“Let you? Come on, Sofia. You beat me fair and square.”

Her head popped up, a shaky grin on her face. “You’re being kind,” she said, her voice strangely quiet.

Eric realized there was less than a foot between them. If he wanted to kiss her, all he’d have to do was lean forward.

It came back to him in a rush—he’d kissed her once before, when they were kids. He’d had Marcus Warren over and Marcus had dared Eric to kiss her. So he had. And she’d let him.

Somehow, Eric knew that if he kissed her now, it wouldn’t be a timid touching of lips. This time, he’d taste her, dipping his tongue into her mouth and savoring her sweetness. He’d take possession of her mouth and, God willing, she’d…

He jerked back so quickly he almost landed on his butt. “Here,” he said gruffly, snagging the bottle of water off his desk and wrenching the cap off.

What the hell was wrong with him? He couldn’t be thinking about Sofia Cortés like that. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t the same innocent little kid. It didn’t even matter that she’d been married and had children. He couldn’t think of her like that.

He’d just hired her.

She took the water but didn’t look him in the eye. “I didn’t realize how expensive those toy boats were until we sank the loser that one time. Which was me, of course.”

“You were a worthy opponent but that avalanche was unavoidable,” he replied. He barely remembered the boat. But he did remember the sheer glee when they’d hit the boat with a decorative stone so large it’d taken both of them to toss it. The splash had been huge. “You have to admit it was fun.”

That got her to meet his gaze. “How old were we? I still remember the horror in my mom’s eyes when she caught us.”

“I was ten, I think. Old enough to know better, I was informed.” His parents had been more than a little exasperated with him, but his dad hadn’t been able to stop snickering when Eric had described the rockslide. “It was only a couple hundred dollars. No big deal.”

Well, that and his parents had made him get every single rock out of the pool. His mother was of the opinion that they didn’t need the pool boy to suffer for Eric’s foolishness. Still, it had taken three people to get the boulder out of the deep end.

Sofia rolled her eyes at him, which made him grin. “Maybe to you. My mother was horrified that we’d have to pay it back somehow.” She was talking to him now, sounding more like the Sofia he remembered. “There was no way we could have afforded that. Not then.”

“That’s why I took the blame.” He leaned against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest. He wished they weren’t in this office. He’d give anything to be out on the lake this morning. There, with the sun on his face and the wind in his hair, he’d be able to think clearly. Here, his mind was muddled.

She looked at him again. Her color was better and she seemed…well, not like the girl he’d known. But maybe someone he could still be friends with.

Friends who didn’t kiss, that was.

“You always were,” she murmured before she took another deep drink of the water.

“Were what?”

“Kind. One of the kindest people I’d ever known.” She dropped her gaze. “You still are. This job…” She swallowed.

Kind? This wasn’t kind. This was calculated. He was building loyalty and ensuring morale. This was keeping an eye on his business. And if it didn’t work out, well—he’d show her kind. He’d have her out of her buttoned-up jacket and skirt so fast her head would spin.

He laughed at his own thoughts, a bitter sound. “I’m not. I’m ruthless. A coldhearted bastard of the first order. Don’t you read the headlines?”

Three

Eric stared at her for a long moment, a dare in his eyes. Then he turned away and went to admire his view of the lake. The way he looked, silhouetted against the window, his shoulders broad and his hair curling gently just above the collar of his shirt—to say nothing of his backside in those custom-made pants…

She had seen the headlines, of course. He’d been left at the altar. He’d been named one of the “Top Five Billionaire Bachelors of Chicago.” He’d been ruthless in his business dealings. But none of that was who he really was.

Was it?

Even if life had changed them both, she knew that deep down, they were still the same people they’d been back when they’d been kids. He wasn’t a heartless bastard, no matter what people might say.

Heartless bastards wouldn’t have rubbed her back when she’d had a panic attack. They wouldn’t have gotten her water. They would have laughed her and her crippling anxiety right out of the office and slammed the door in her face.

Heartless bastards wouldn’t have looked like they were going to kiss her and they most certainly wouldn’t have stopped at just a look.

At least, Sofia thought that’s what Eric had been thinking. She hadn’t been kissed in a long time so she couldn’t be sure. She and David had enjoyed a passionate four years together before she’d gotten pregnant. But after her body had begun to change, so had their love life. The intimacy had been deeper, richer—but at the cost of some of the heat.

She fanned herself. It was unnaturally warm in here.

“Are you sure you want me to work for you? Good office managers don’t have panic attacks.”

“Of course they do,” he answered without turning around. “They just choose their locations wisely. I’ve always found it’s best to have a panic attack safely behind closed doors. No one wants to pass out next to the coffeepot.” He glanced back at her with a smirk. “Location, location, location—right?”

“Eric…”

A ripple of tension rolled over his shoulders. “Does that happen a lot?”

“It’s…better.” How to answer this question without making it sound like she was incapable of doing the job? “They started after David collapsed. One of them actually triggered early labor, but they got it stopped in time and I was on bed rest for five weeks. I hadn’t had one in a few months, though. I just wasn’t expecting any offer to be that…”

“Generous?”

“Insane.” This was the first time an attack had been triggered by something positive. “Eric, I can’t take that much money. The position was for seventy thousand. You can’t just randomly double it because we used to be friends.”

He made a scoffing sound and at that moment, he did sound a little ruthless. “First off, we’re still friends and second off, I absolutely can. Who’s going to stop me?”

A hundred and twenty was slightly more than she and David had earned together in a single year. The things she could do with that kind of money…but she didn’t want to be Eric’s charity case. “Most comparable positions are fifty to sixty thousand,” she protested.

That made him snort. “Comparable to what, Sofia? If you’re saying this position is just like running your suburban brokerage, you couldn’t be more wrong. I can promise you regular hours most of the time, but I’ll expect you to travel to potential sites occasionally. This isn’t just ordering paper clips and deciding how ten agents divide them. I employ forty lawyers, architects, agents, tax specialists, lobbyists—”

“Lobbyists?” The fact that she had no idea why he would have lobbyists on staff was probably a sign that she was in over her head.

“To negotiate with municipalities and influence laws, of course. We’re pursuing a project in St. Louis as we speak. If we play our cards right, we’ll get tax breaks from the city, county and state.” He grinned like he’d won the lottery.

“Of course,” she mumbled, unsure what else she was supposed to say. He was right. She was vastly out of her league.

“Besides,” he continued, sounding more than just a little cold as he turned his attention back out the window, “what’s a spare fifty thousand or so to a guy like me?”

Nothing, probably. She could see how that wouldn’t bankrupt a billionaire. Still, though. It was the principle of the matter. “But—”

“By the way,” he went on, as if she hadn’t spoken, “I have a better boat now. You should come with me sometime. I like to sail in the afternoons.”

He still wasn’t looking at her, but it was clear from the tone of his voice that the conversation about salary was finished.

“Is it a sailboat?” she asked.

“Nope. It’s a yacht. And we won’t sink this one with a rock, so don’t worry. You could…” He paused and then continued, “You could even bring the kids. I bet they’d love being out on the water.”

What was happening here? Eric was giving her a job and paying her way too much money. And now he was inviting her boating? With two rambunctious toddlers in tow? “Eric…”

“Never mind. I hear you’ve got a real bastard of a boss who won’t let you take off work just to go jetting around.” He turned and she barely recognized him at all—his face was that hard. “Come on. Let’s find out what you’ve gotten yourself into, shall we?”

More than she could handle, she thought as she followed him to the door of his office and into the heart of Jenner Properties.

Three hours later, Sofia knew she was in over her head. She was reasonably confident Eric knew it, too—but it didn’t seem to bother him. He would give her a look and say, “All right?” as if he were willing it to be true instead of asking a question.

He was putting a lot of faith in her and she didn’t want to let him down. She didn’t want to let her mom or her kids down, either. But most of all, she needed to do this for herself. This was the first big change she had undertaken on her own since her life had been thrown into upheaval a year and a half ago. She was tired of life happening to her. She was going to happen to her life. This job was the first step.

Even if that meant she would have to make it up as she went along.

“And here are Meryl and Steve Norton,” Eric was saying as he knocked on the last door to the office closest to his. “Meryl is my chief negotiator for the St. Louis project and Steve is the project manager. It helps that they’re married,” he added in a stage whisper. “Guys, this is Sofia Bingham. She’s our new office manager.”

“Hello,” Sofia said, smiling. Eric had stopped accidentally saying Cortés after only five or six introductions.

“Welcome,” a tall, jovial man with thinning hair said as he rose from a desk on one side of the office. He was a little soft around the middle, but his smile was friendly and his eyes were warm. “To the madhouse,” he went on, shaking her hand. “I’m Steve. I handle contractors.”

As big as Steve was, an equally tiny woman hopped down off her desk chair from the other side of the room. Steve slid his arm around her shoulders as Meryl Norton said, “Don’t listen to him. It’s not that bad—as long as you can embrace the madness. I’m Meryl and I handle politicians. If you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m generally friendly.” But she said it in such a way that Sofia couldn’t help but grin in response.

Eric’s wristwatch dinged and he said, “I’ve got to take this. Sofia, when you’re done catching up with the Nortons, ask Heather to show you where all the supplies are. If I’m still here when you’re done, stop in and see me. If not, check in with Tonya. She’ll have your contract.” With that, he was gone.

Sofia had done all right by his side because everyone in this building deferred to him. Eric seemed to understand his staff not just as employees but as people. Eric had given her a heads-up for the introverts who needed quiet to focus and the extroverts who needed someone to help them stay on task.

And Steve Norton clearly was an extrovert. “There’s a rumor going around that you and the big boss used to know each other,” he began with no other introduction, a slightly mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Honey,” Meryl said, elbowing him. If she hadn’t been so small, she would’ve elbowed him in the ribs. As it was, she more or less hit him in the hip bone. “Don’t pry. He pries,” she went on, giving Sofia a sympathetic look. “Did Mr. Jenner explain that there’ll be times when travel is a part of the job?”

“He did—and,” she added, before Steve could ask again, “we did know each other when we were little kids. His father gave my father his start in real estate.” Normally, she might not have revealed that. But it was better to clarify up front that she and Eric had never dated or otherwise had any romantic entanglements. In an office of this size, gossip could make her life a living hell. “Our parents still send Christmas cards to each other.”

Steve looked amused by this. Meryl said to her husband, “There. Now you don’t have to pry anymore. We’re planning a trip to St. Louis next month,” she went on, turning back to Sofia without pausing for breath. “They recently lost their football team and there’s a section of the downtown that’s depressed. We wouldn’t expect you to be involved in negotiations, but planning trips like this would be your responsibility. So far, Heather and I have been handling this together, but I think it would be a good idea for you to join us. That way, in the future, you’ll know how Mr. Jenner likes things done. You do have a background in real estate, correct?”

“I’ve been in real estate since I was fourteen. However, this is a different level,” she admitted. Okay, she could handle a business trip with Eric. No problem.

“That’s why the St. Louis trip will be good,” Meryl said decisively. She definitely talked like a negotiator. “You get a chance to see what Mr. Jenner is trying to accomplish when he branches out into smaller markets and how you can help make that happen. Understanding the business is key to understanding how the office works.”

Sofia glanced at Steve. For the project manager, he wasn’t doing a lot of talking. He looked like he wanted to ask her something else that was probably personal, but Meryl plowed ahead. “I’ll email you the current itinerary. We look forward to working with you, but no one expects you to manage Steve. That’s my job,” she added with a wink.

Steve protested loudly, although Sofia could tell it was all for show. Meryl waved Sofia away—but as she shut the door behind her, they were both laughing.

Sofia stood for a moment on the other side of the door, trying to get her bearings. She’d expected the interview to last an hour, if that—but she’d been here for almost four hours. Mom would worry, although the situation wouldn’t get desperate until the twins got up from their naps. They had just come through a protracted period of clinginess and it was still touch and go when Addy and Eddy were waking up.

Eric’s office was to the right of Steve and Meryl’s. His door was closed. There was a window to the left. It didn’t have a sweeping view of Lake Michigan, but it was no hardship to look at the Chicago skyline.

She stepped into a warm shaft of afternoon sunlight and checked her messages. Mom had texted a photo of the twins destroying their lunch. Sofia’s heart clenched as she looked at her babies. When she and David had discovered they were having twins, she’d planned to take time off after their birth. She’d even entertained the notion of a maternity leave that lasted several years. But the life insurance policy had run out and honestly, as overwhelming as today had been, it’d been nice to have a conversation without someone screaming.

She replied to the text message with what time she thought she’d be home and then paused to look at the office.

It was spotless and gleaming. Eric’s executive suite had been practically a temple to wealth and privilege, but even the carpet in the general areas was thick and plush. The office equipment she’d glanced at was state-of-the-art, and he provided snacks and beverages to everyone, not just coffee. Eric didn’t cheap out on providing for his employees.

This office—this job—represented so much for her. There was more to her than life as a widow and mother of two babies.

Eric Jenner was giving her the opportunity to be more.

She worked her way around the front of the office, where trendy Heather was still behind the receptionist desk. “Um, hello. Mr. Jenner told me to—”

She cut Sofia off without even looking up. “One moment.” Sofia swallowed. After a minute that felt painfully long, Heather finished whatever she was doing and stood, straightening her jacket. She had shimmering golden hair that fell halfway down her back. She was so young and effortlessly beautiful that Sofia couldn’t help but feel old and fat by comparison.

“The supply closet is this way.” Heather led Sofia back to a closet tucked behind the emergency stairwell. When they were inside with the door mostly shut behind them Heather turned to her. She cast a critical eye at Sofia’s outfit again. “I don’t know if anyone has said this to you yet,” she began and Sofia braced herself. Here it comes, she thought. Heather went on, “But we’re really glad you’re here.”

Sofia’s mouth dropped open in shock. “I’m sorry?” Of all the things she’d expected Heather to say, an expression of welcome hadn’t made the list. “You are?”

“Oh my gosh, yes. Stacy—the previous office manager? She got married and had a baby and decided she wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. Mr. Jenner offered me the job? But I’m almost done with my MBA and he’s already promised me a job in the contracts department. I’ve been doing this job and the receptionist job and training for the contracts department while finishing up my schooling and it’s exhausting. I’m beyond thrilled to hand the reins over to you,” she said and her smile seemed surprisingly genuine.

Sofia realized she had misjudged the young woman. Just because she was pretty and fashionable didn’t mean Heather was catty or vain. “Do you like working for him?” Because Sofia had not forgotten those cheeky winks. “I mean, what kind of boss is he?”

“The best boss? I mean, really. The company is paying for my MBA. They already put my fiancée on the benefits package and we’re not even married yet?” She had this habit of ending her statements on an up note, as if she were asking a question. “You’d think that a billionaire like him would be a total jerk, but he’s actually really down-to-earth. The benefits package alone is worth this job? Everything else is just icing on the cake.”

Fiancé. Sofia took a deep breath and smiled widely. “Congratulations on your engagement. What’s his name?”

Heather slanted her a sly smile. “Her name is Suzanne.”

Sofia felt her cheeks go bright red. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume. It’s just that…” Well, there had been those winks.

“Oh, no worries,” Heather said, waving away Sofia’s embarrassment. “It’s a known fact that Mr. Jenner flirts with everyone. He’s an equal opportunity flirt. But he keeps a hard line between flirting and hitting on someone.” She leaned forward, her voice quieting to a whisper. “We’re not supposed to talk about his former fiancée—and I don’t recommend bringing it up—but there was a young woman who’d just started in the agent department when Mr. Jenner got dumped. She made a move.”

It was wrong to gossip about Eric, both as an old friend and a new boss. That noble sentiment didn’t stop Sofia from asking, “And?”

“And not only did he rebuff her advances, she was gone a month later.”

“He fired her?”

“No, actually. That’s the weird thing.” Heather looked just as confused as Sofia felt. “She got ‘a better offer’ from one of his business rivals. The rumor is Mr. Jenner engineered it. I overheard him tell the Nortons that Wyatt got what he deserved out of the deal.”

Wyatt—hadn’t there been a kid named Robert Wyatt back when they were kids? If she was thinking of the same boy, then that was the kid who’d cornered her one time while Eric had been in the bathroom and tried to cop a feel.

Sofia remembered she’d done what her father had taught her and kneed Wyatt hard in the groin. Eric had found his so-called friend rolling on the ground and yelling bloody murder and Sofia had been terrified Wyatt would get her mom fired. But instead, Wyatt never came back over to play and Mrs. Jenner had bought Sofia a doll with a new set of clothes.

Heather was staring intently at her. “Well. That’s…interesting, isn’t it?” Sofia said numbly.

If she’d thought that would be the end of the conversation, she was wrong. “You two used to know each other?” Heather, Sofia realized, was the office gossip. Which meant that she was a good person to have on Sofia’s side. But that didn’t mean she wanted to spread every childhood moment she and Eric had shared around the office. There was a fine line here and Sofia had to figure out how to walk it—quickly.

When she didn’t answer right away, Heather pressed on. “I mean, that’s what it sounded like. I’ve never heard him tell an interviewee—or anyone else, for that matter—that they ‘grew up.’”

“We knew each other when we were little kids. His father gave my father a start in business.” That line had worked well enough for the Nortons, but when Heather didn’t respond immediately, Sofia decided she needed to steer the conversation away from the past. “It’s good to hear that he’s still the same kid he used to be. I was hoping being a billionaire hadn’t changed him.”

Heather exhaled heavily. “I don’t think the money is what’s changed him,” she said quietly. Then she turned a too-bright smile to Sofia. “Okay? Here are the vendors that we use to order coffee…”

Sofia didn’t get the chance to ask what Heather meant by that. And did it matter, really? No. What mattered was that Eric was giving her an incredible opportunity and putting a great deal of faith in her. What mattered was that his staff loved working for him. What mattered more than anything, she decided, was that he didn’t sleep with his receptionist and he nurtured the talents of the people he hired.

She was going to make this work, she decided with renewed resolve.

So she better learn how to order the coffee.

Four

Normally, Eric would’ve been on the water by now. There was only one reason he was still at his desk today. Sofia. Somehow, he couldn’t leave without making sure she’d take the job.

He was supposed to be reading her contract and nondisclosure agreement, but it wasn’t going well. He was also supposed to be looking over the latest plans for the St. Louis trip, but he wasn’t doing that, either.

Instead, he was thinking about Sofia. He couldn’t remember the first time he’d seen her. She’d always been there. There hadn’t been any big formal goodbyes, either. The Cortés family had not come to his farewell party when he’d gone away to school. He hadn’t sought her out after the party. That had been that.

She’d always been a part of his life—until she wasn’t anymore. He wanted to think he’d regretted not getting the closure of a goodbye, but honestly, he wasn’t sure he had.

Now suddenly Sofia was back in his life. A mother with two little babies who depended on her.

She was taking the job, by God. That was final.

A soft knock on his door pulled him out of his messy thoughts. “Yes?”

The door opened and there she was. His breath caught in his throat as she stepped into his office. It didn’t seem possible that she got lovelier every time he saw her.

But there was no denying it—she was simply prettier than she’d been an hour ago. Especially when her eyes lit up as she looked at him, her mouth softening into a kissable smile. “You’re still here,” she said, a touch of wonder in her voice. “I thought you’d be out on the lake by now.”

He grinned. It didn’t mean anything that she remembered how much he needed the water. Everyone else thought it was part of his eccentric charm, but Sofia had always understood that he needed the water like some people needed the air. “I’m still here,” he told her. “Have a seat. I’m just going over your contract.”

He watched her carefully as she crossed the room and sat in front of him. She looked a little bashful, but not like she was on the verge of another anxiety attack. “I don’t suppose you made my salary something reasonable?”

“A hundred and twenty thousand is very reasonable, Sofia.”

She laughed. “What if I’m not worth that much money?”

He was stunned by the words—and by how much she seemed to mean them. Nervously, she glanced up at him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he said. “Stop acting like you don’t belong here.”

“I don’t,” she said, and he was impressed that she didn’t sound cowed when she said it. “You’re the one trying to make me fit into this world.”

“You’re the one who showed up for a job interview,” he reminded her. At that, she opened her mouth to reply and then closed it with an audible snap. “There. We agree. You want the job and I’m giving it to you.” He shoved the contract across the desk.

She reached for it, and he continued, “It’s the standard contract, details on the benefit plan, bonus schedule and nondisclosure agreement. You’re more than welcome to take it home and look it over. If you decide to accept the job, I’d like you to start next week. But Sofia?” She looked up at him again, the contract in her hand. “You’re going to accept the job.”

He braced for the worst—another panic attack—but it didn’t happen. Instead, her brows furrowed and she twisted her lips. “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”

“Of course not. I never lose arguments when I happen to be right.”

“What are you going to tell your parents?”

He blinked once, then again. Of all the things she might have said—that wasn’t what he’d expected. “I don’t know that I need to tell them anything.” Except that was a hedge and he knew it.

Because he wanted to know why his mother hadn’t kept him up-to-date on what Sofia was doing and there was no way he could ask without revealing that Sofia now worked for him.

“I assume your parents know where you are?” he asked.

“They do.” She dropped her gaze back to the contract and flipped the page. “They were worried.”

“About?” Suddenly, he found himself hoping the Cortés family hadn’t followed all the headlines—his abandonment on his wedding day or the subsequent re-sowing of his wild oats afterward.

“They want to see me succeed but…well, they knew this job was a stretch for me. I don’t have the experience.” She looked up at him and he saw the truth in her eyes. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this,” she went on in a rush. “Because the truth is that we’re not friends anymore. We’re old acquaintances who only knew each other because my parents worked for yours. Now you’re my boss and I shouldn’t be telling you about my family’s hopes or that I suffered debilitating panic attacks after my husband died. You’re not supposed to know these things about me.”

She was almost shouting at him. The force of her emotion pushed him back in his chair.

“Oh, God,” she said, slumping down. “And I definitely shouldn’t be yelling at you. I couldn’t be screwing this up more if I tried, could I?”

If it were anyone else, he’d agree. He’d show her the door and count himself lucky to have dodged a bullet.

So why wasn’t he doing that right now?

When was the last time anyone had put him in his place? No one—with the obvious exception of his parents—talked to him like this. They all minced around him like he was a volatile chemical and they were afraid of the reaction he’d spark. Even Marcus Warren—who had no trouble telling anyone what he thought about anything—had been pulling his punches with Eric.

Sofia telling him off should have been infuriating. But…

All he could think about was how he’d missed her. And how he hoped she’d missed him, too. “You need a friend.”

She looked at him, her eyes suspiciously shiny and a quirky smile on her face. “Maybe you do, too.” Abruptly, she stood, grabbing her handbag and clutching the contract to her chest. “I’m going to take this job because you’re right, I need it. But I won’t be your object of pity. You don’t owe me a larger salary. You don’t owe me any special perks. I’m your employee. Try to remember that.”

That was, hands down, one of the most effective set-downs he’d ever received in his life. It was so good that all he could do was smile as she walked out of the office.

“Mama!” Two small voices cried in unison when Sofia came through the door that evening. She still felt that she was moving in a daze but at least here, in the sanctuary of her parents’ house, with her two children launching themselves at her, everything still felt the same.

“Babies!” she cried back, just like she did every time she had to be away from them. She opened her arms as they flung themselves at her, almost knocking her off balance in her heeled shoes. “Were you good for Abuelita today?” she asked over their heads as her mother slowly climbed to her feet from where she’d been sitting on the floor.

“Fine, fine,” Mom said, waving away this concern. “How about you? You got the job?” Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she added, “Did he remember you?”

Sofia staggered over to the couch that was possibly older than she was with the children squirming in her arms, collapsing in a heap of happy baby sounds. Addy curled up in her lap and began humming contentedly while Eddy slid down and toddled over to a small set of table and chairs, where he picked up a piece of paper he’d made some very colorful lines on. He showed it to her proudly.

“Oh,” Sofia said, touching the picture. “So pretty.” Eddy began to chatter about whatever it was he’d drawn. She grinned. The twins weren’t quite talking yet, but they sure had a lot to say.

As expected, Addy took all this attention for Eddy as a direct challenge to her artistic merits. She went to get her drawing, too. The twins were always competing like this and only occasionally did it result in tears.

After she had also complimented Addy’s colorful lines, she leaned back, settling into the ancient cushions of the couch while the twins started coloring again. Even when her father had started selling houses and they’d moved into this small ranch home, the Cortéses hadn’t wasted any money on new furniture.

Even though they were now respectably middle class, they still lived carefully and those were lessons Sofia had a hard time unlearning. It’d taken a long time to get used to the way David would decide he wanted a new phone or a new computer and just go buy it. Almost all of their fights had been about money. She’d never felt comfortable spending it but he couldn’t understand why she didn’t want a few nice things.

If anything, Eric was a million times worse than David ever could have been. The craziest thing David had ever done with money—besides spending five thousand dollars on her engagement ring—had been buying a brand-new, top-of-the-line flat screen television that took up a huge chunk of wall in their living room. But that had only been seven thousand dollars.

Eric was throwing an extra fifty thousand dollars at her. Truly, he was being an idiot about it. But wasn’t she being an idiot to try to give that cash back? It wasn’t like she couldn’t use the money. The life insurance money had run out and she’d moved back in with her parents because, well, she’d been in the grips of depression and the mother of two newborns. But it’d also been to save money.

She sighed. Eric was right. Fifty thousand was a year to her. To him, it couldn’t be more than fifteen minutes of one day. And she had shown up for the job interview hoping that the Jenner kindness would help her get back on her feet. She was in no position to refuse that kindness.

Her mother appeared with a glass of lemonade and a worried smile on her face. “Well?”

“He remembered me. And I got the job.” She took the lemonade and drank deeply. “He’s paying me too much money.”

At this, Mom smiled. “The Jenners—they always pay too much. They’re very generous people.”

Sofia looked up at her mother. Rosa Cortés had worked her entire life to take care of Sofia. But it wasn’t until Sofia had unexpectedly become a widow with two infants that she had appreciated how her mother always kept her head up and hope in her heart.

Mom had given her everything. It was time for Sofia to return the favor. “Listen, I’m going to start paying you to watch the kids. And hire someone to help out.”

Her mother’s eyes got wide and then immediately narrowed. Sofia braced herself. “You’ll do no such thing,” she snapped. “I love spending the day with my nietos. It’s not a job.”

“Yes, I will.” Sofia was almost too tired to argue—but this was important. “You quit your job at the brokerage to stay home with us. You’ve kept me going more times than I can count. You’ve always taken care of me, Mom. Let me take care of you, too.”

Her mother shook her head and stamped her foot, which was a show of temper for her. Rosa was so mild mannered as to be meek.

“Fine,” Sofia said, knowing further debate would only make Mom dig in her heels even more. “I’ll put the money in a retirement account for you. And I will hire someone to help out. That’s nonnegotiable. You know Dad’s going to be on my side about this.”

Although he would never want to hurt Mom’s feelings by suggesting she couldn’t do everything, Dad had privately told Sofia he worried the twins might be too much for Mom.

Her mother looked like she was going to argue but just then, Addy flung her crayons to the side and stared at Sofia’s glass, moving her hands in the way that meant she wanted some, too. Not to be outdone, Eddy plopped his bottom down on the rug and began to fuss. Mom clucked softly. “Oh, now—you two, it’s time to wash our hands and have a snack.” She picked up Eddy and Addy toddled along behind, the mention of a snack suddenly the most important thing in the world.

Sofia grinned after her babies. She had pictures of David at that age and Eddy, especially, was going to look a lot like his father. Addy’s hair was a little darker, her face a little more round—just like Sofia’s had been.

She sank back into the old couch, grateful for the moment of silence. Maybe her mother was right. Maybe that’s all there was to this insane salary. Eric was just being generous. Maybe it had nothing to do with her at all. To a guy like him, a Jenner, money was the easy, obvious solution. It would never run out.

It didn’t feel like that, though. If anything, it felt…dangerous. More than just the way he’d talked her down from the panic attack, more than the heated way he looked at her whenever she pushed back against his dictates. Those things were bad enough, but easy to dismiss as old friends catching up or him flirting with her just like he flirted with everyone else.

No, what was dangerous to Sofia’s mental well-being was the way he had matter-of-factly stated that he could somehow keep her safe.

It had been a sweet thing to say, but Sofia had recognized something else in his eyes when he said it, something lost. He had been left at the altar. Had he loved his ex-fiancée? Had his whole world changed in that one single moment and he still wasn’t sure who he’d become in the aftermath?

How far had he fallen before he’d picked himself back up?

She shook her head. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t be that friend for him, not like in the old days. She was a professional. And besides, she didn’t have much of a heart left to be broken.

“What am I supposed to do, David?” she whispered in the quiet of the room. She got no answer, but she wasn’t expecting one.

She had the job. She could take care of her outstanding bills, hire some help for her mom and start moving past living just one day at a time. And she could do all that without getting entangled in Eric’s life again. She’d keep a tight handle on any behavior that might be construed as unprofessional, too. No more panic attacks—at least not in public. No more telling him she wasn’t qualified for the job. She didn’t belong in his world, but she could fake it until she made it.

The job was hers. She would do it for her children and her parents.

But most of all, she would do the job for herself. She needed the work and the salary.

She just had to remember that she didn’t need Eric.

Five

“Darling!” Elise Jenner said from behind her desk in her office in the mansion. Dad’s was connected to hers with a door, but they kept it firmly shut. Mom lived in mortal terror that John Jenner’s clutter would spread like a contagion through the house.

His mother’s office was best described as Louis XVI run amok. Rococo flourishes, gilt trim and pink upholstery made the place almost blinding to look at. Everything about Elise Jenner was overdone. Eric might not decorate with gold leaf, but his buildings had been described as over-the-top on more than one occasion. At least he came by it honestly.

“We weren’t expecting you tonight.” She studied him as he kicked off his shoes before stepping on the Persian rug. That had been a rule in this house for as long as he could remember. “What’s wrong?”

“Why didn’t you tell me that Sofia Cortés got married? Or widowed? Or had twins?”

His mother looked at him, surprised. “Why, dear—I didn’t think you remembered her. You never asked about her.” She sat back, looking perturbed. “What brought this on?”

“How could I forget her?” he replied, avoiding this second question. “She was practically my best friend when we were kids. Something I recall you encouraging,” he added.

Elise tilted her head and stared at him. For all of her love of extravagant interior design, the woman wasn’t soft. She cultivated a flamboyant image and then used it ruthlessly to her advantage. “What happened today, dear?”

Coming to visit his parents in this mood was a mistake. He wanted answers—not an interrogation. But the day with Sofia had muddled his thinking. “I hired her today. She’s my new office manager.”

“Oh?”

Eric glared at his mother. “And thanks to a lack of knowledge sharing on your behalf, I made an ass of myself three different times. If not more. I wasn’t prepared for her to be a mother—to twins, no less.”

“I see,” she said in that slow, maddening way of hers. He could see the wheels turning in her head.

“When’s Dad getting home?” he asked in a belated attempt to steer the conversation away from Sofia. He knew it was Mom sending Christmas cards to the Cortés family, not Dad. Plus Dad’s office was cluttered and cozy. They could kick back, drink a beer and watch the Cubs. And not discuss other people’s babies.

Elise waved her hand. “He’s touring a condo on the Gold Coast that hasn’t been on the market for forty years. It’s close to the pier you use, it’s got amazing views and it’s almost three thousand square feet—more than enough room for a family.” She smiled prettily. “You should take a look at it. It’ll need to be redone, obviously, but…”

His parents were semiretired, but to him, they still seemed as vibrant and active as ever. It helped that Mom had a really good plastic surgeon. She didn’t look like she’d had work done but she certainly didn’t look like she was in her sixties, either.

However, just because she didn’t want to look like a grandmother didn’t mean she didn’t want grandbabies, because she did.

Oh, yeah—coming here had definitely been a mistake. “Mom, we’re not getting into the topic of grandchildren again.”

“We’re not?” She sounded so innocent that he almost relaxed. Of course that was the exact moment she went for the kill. “Then why does it upset you that Sofia has children?”

“I’m not upset,” he snapped. He began to pace. “It just surprised me. I didn’t realize…”

“That she’d grown up and moved on with her life? Yes,” his mother said in the caring voice that drove Eric nuts because she really did care. He had friends—Marcus Warren specifically—who had monsters dressed up as parents. Eric knew it was a rare and wonderful thing that he had two parents who not only loved each other but also him. They wanted to see him happy.

“I understand,” his mother went on.

“Really, Mom? What do you understand?” He was aware that he was being a jerk—a fact confirmed by the pointed look she gave him. But he couldn’t seem to help it.

He found himself thinking about Sofia’s twins, Addy and Eddy. They’d been in a tub, their hair crazy and their smiles wide. They loved the water, it was clear. How much fun would they have in the pool? He’d taught Sofia to swim, after all. It would be hilarious to get those two paddling around.

And of course, if the twins were in the water, then Sofia would be with them. Which posed a very important question—bikini or one-piece? He’d love to see her curves in a bathing suit, water sheeting off her body as she pulled herself up the ladder, sun shining off her skin as she lay out under the summer sun to dry out…

He adjusted his trousers and tried to get his mind out of the gutter. It didn’t do to fantasize about old friends in his mother’s parlor. He should’ve gone out on his boat. In fact, he’d do that right now. He walked off the Persian rug and jammed his feet into his shoes.

“Things change whether you like it or not,” his mother went on. “She changed—and you changed, honey. But you know what I’ve found?”

“What?” he asked as his mother gracefully rose from her chair and came to stand in front of him, her hands on his shoulders.

“The more things change, the more they stay the same.” Even though he’d been nothing but surly to her, she hugged him and Eric hugged her back. “I hope she does well working in the office,” Mom said when she leaned back. “She always was a bright, beautiful girl and a true friend to you.”

He scowled at his mother. He hated it when she was right. Everything had changed. Sofia had grown up into a gorgeous woman who’d loved and lost.

But for all that, Sofia was still bright and beautiful and no matter what she said, they were still friends.

Because some things never changed.

Eric wasn’t in the office much. The weather was perfect, so most afternoons he was aboard the Jennerosity, speeding away from Chicago and out onto the lake. He could breathe out there, far away from prying eyes and the sounds and smells of the city. He had no trouble being the social playboy people expected one of the “Top Five Billionaire Bachelors of Chicago” to be, but he needed time to recharge.

A few times, he’d been on the verge of asking Sofia to come with him—hand on the doorknob, question on his lips. But how would that look, giving his brand-new office manager the afternoon off, just to take her boating? Bad, that’s how it’d look. So he didn’t.

Of course he worked, too. He made a quick trip down to St. Louis to get a look at the property alone. He thought he knew how the city would sell the development’s benefits but he liked to check out every potential site unannounced, without anyone else offering their opinions. The property centered around the indoor football stadium that had been recently vacated when St. Louis lost its football team. Without crowds pouring in for weekend home games, whole blocks seemed to be boarded up. Much to Eric’s advantage, an attempt to bring in a pro soccer team had recently failed. The city was no doubt growing desperate.

All of which meant he didn’t see Sofia for several days. Which was fine. She didn’t need him to babysit her. She’d made it plenty clear during their last conversation that the only relationship they could have going forward was a professional one.

That didn’t mean he didn’t think about her constantly. It took real work to make sure his thoughts stayed away from her body in a bikini and focused on her job performance. Heather reported that Sofia was naturally organized and seemed to be picking up the office systems quickly. “Thank God,” she added, tapping her fingers on the desk nervously. “This final project for school is killing me, but she’s taken over enough that I actually got a few hours of sleep last night.”

Meryl and Steve had much the same report. Sofia was highly organized, detailed and neat. She asked good questions when she hit a stumbling block. “She’s a little quiet,” Meryl noted, “but you get the sense she’s listening to everything.”

“We don’t need her to be loud,” Steve countered. “That’s my job.”

Eric rolled his eyes and left his employees to squabble. There was a reason the two of them had their own office removed from everyone else. The Nortons deeply loved each other and they worked well together but their verbal gymnastics could wear on even the mellowest of cube workers.

Eric stood in his office, staring at the lake. Of course Sofia was an organized quick study. He remembered all those times she’d been in the house while he’d had friends over. She’d always hovered on the edge of the conversation until she’d been sure she was welcome to join in. She hadn’t been quiet when it’d been just the two of them but for Sofia, at least, two had been company and three was always a crowd.

Were her children like her, quiet and watchful? Or were they handfuls?

He remembered so many things he hadn’t thought about in such a long time. The sailboat, the kiss. Teaching her to swim, with her mother watching nervously from the kitchen window. He’d picked out a birthday present for her with his own money, a Barbie with dark hair, just like hers.

But she wasn’t that girl, not anymore. Back then, she’d been a kid—and so had he. Now she was a woman and he wanted to get to know her again.

Without being aware of leaving his office, he found himself standing in front of her desk, located on the opposite side of the floor from his.

“Hi,” he said, pointedly not staring at her.

Startled, she looked up at him, her dark eyes bright. She looked amazing, he realized, his breath catching in his throat. Her color was good and her breath came easily and everything about her radiated calm. In no way, shape or form did she look like she was struggling with the burdens of the job.

But that wasn’t what had him unable to tear his gaze away. Somehow, she was even prettier than the last time he’d seen her. Today, she had on a wine-colored jacket over a patterned shirt and her hair was pulled back at the temples, the mass of dark waves spilling down her back. God, how he wanted to peel that jacket and shirt off her and sink his fingers into that silken hair and wind it around his fist so he could angle her head to the side and scrape his teeth over the delicate skin of her—

“Hi,” she said, snapping him out of his insanity.

He couldn’t respond for a moment as he fought to regain control of his body. Finally, he managed to croak out, “How’s it going?”

She notched an eyebrow. “Fine. Haven’t seen you for several days.” He heard the challenge in her voice. She knew he’d been avoiding her.

But he hadn’t been. Not intentionally. “Business waits for no man. I hear you’re settling in.”

“So far, so good.” Her voice was perky and confident, but then she looked down at her desk. “Everyone’s been really nice.”

He almost heard a…so far at the end of that sentence. “But?”

A blush darkened her cheeks. “We’re going to St. Louis next week, right?” She worried her lower lip with her teeth.

He almost leaned over to brush his thumb across her lip and soothe the worry away. Somehow, he just managed not to but his hand shook with the effort. She wore a shade of lipstick so deep a red it was almost brown. It looked great on her but God help him, he’d love to mess it up.

Then what she’d said penetrated his thoughts. She was worried about the trip. Was it the thought of traveling—or was it the thought of traveling with him? “Nervous about leaving your babies?” He leaned over and picked up the framed photo she’d put on her desk. This was a formal shot and, if he had to guess, he’d say it was for the twins’ one-year birthday.

God, they were cute. Eddy, dressed in a tiny tie that was hilarious on him, was standing with his hands on a small stool. Addy, wearing a dress that almost swallowed her whole and bows on itty-bitty ponytails, sat on a blanket next to the stool. Both kids were grinning wildly and Addy was clapping. They looked…perfect. Something in his chest tightened as he stared at the picture.

He said a silent prayer for their father. What a damn shame that the man hadn’t lived long enough to love his perfect family. If Eric had a wife like Sofia and kids like these babies, he wouldn’t have done anything stupid like die. He’d spend the rest of his life making sure this family was happy and whole. He’d give them every opportunity he’d ever had and more.

His mind spun out a—well, a fantasy. Working with Sofia, then going home with her at the end of the day, doing all those things he’d watched Marcus do with his wife and son—messy dinners and playing in the park. Then, when the kids went to bed at night, Eric would pull Sofia into his arms and into bed, where he’d spend the better part of the night—and the next morning—getting lost in the pleasures of her body.

It was almost perfect, that little fantasy of his. But he couldn’t just step into Sofia’s life like that. He did not sleep with employees. Hell, he shouldn’t even be fantasizing about them.

Belatedly, he realized Sofia hadn’t answered his question. He glanced up and caught her staring at him staring at her picture. Trying to act casual, he set it back on the desk. “I’d miss them, too,” he admitted, touching the frame with his finger. “How are they doing with you being at work?”

“It’s been a little rough,” she said quietly, as if she were afraid someone might overhear her admit to a weakness. She quickly added, “But it’s not impacting my ability to do the job, Mr. Jenner.”

It should have been the thing he wanted to hear. Yes, he wanted his employees happy, but only because he wanted them to do their jobs to the best of their abilities.

So why did her words bother him so much?

He must have scowled because her eyes widened in what looked like alarm.

“Then what’s bothering you?” he asked.

She didn’t answer for a moment. Instead, her gaze lingered on his face before drifting down to his shoulders and the rest of his body.

Eric liked to think he wasn’t a stupid man. He liked women on principle. He’d been enjoying them in one capacity or another since he’d gone away to school.

So he didn’t think he was misinterpreting the way Sofia took in his body or the way the color on her cheeks deepened as her gaze met his again.

Interest. Attraction, even. Sofia looked at him as if he was a man she might just like to take a weekend trip with. And his body responded in a primal way. He heard his voice deepen when he said, “You can tell me, Sofia. You know that.”

Her gaze jerked up to meet his. Her eyes were dark with desire and when she ran her tongue over her bottom lip, he went painfully hard. His body tilted toward hers of its own volition.

She glanced away, breaking the spell. “I was looking at the itinerary and it says we’re having dinner with the lieutenant governor and a cocktail party with the mayor? I don’t know what to wear…”

Ah, this was a problem he understood. “Is that all?”

“No,” she said quietly. Her face turned bright red. “I mean, that’s the only thing that I’m concerned I won’t be prepared for. For the trip. The kids will be fine. We’re only going to be gone two nights, right?”

“Right. We’ll leave Friday morning and be back Sunday evening.”

He knew what he needed to do. He’d have to give up his afternoon on the water but for some irrational reason, he found himself looking forward to it. Because this was one way to get her out of those stuffy jackets.

“Tell you what,” he began. “We’ll take the afternoon off and get you something to wear.”

Limos, while practically a requirement for billionaires, were damned inconvenient to get around in downtown Chicago. Eric vastly preferred his Ferrari F60—one of only ten made—and he preferred driving himself.

Which meant Sofia was sitting next to him, clutching the door handle as if her life depended on it as he weaved through traffic on his way to Barneys. Her scent filled the car, warm and light. She smelled so good, like cookies fresh out of the oven. That had to be why he wanted to press his lips against the base of her neck and take a little bite.

“Macy’s is fine. Even Nordstrom,” she said for the sixth time.

To Eric’s ears, she sounded almost desperate about it. Which was enough to keep him focused on the task at hand. Barely. “Come on, Sofia. I’m not exactly leading you to the gallows here. It’s just a department store.” They came to a screeching halt at a stoplight and he glanced over at her.

No, she wasn’t happy. He had to be careful that he didn’t accidentally push her too far. A cocktail dress was no reason to have a panic attack, in his opinion.

She snorted. “Eric,” she began and he secretly thrilled to hear her use his name again. It bothered him more than he’d realized that she’d called him Mr. Jenner. “Look. I can’t afford anything in this store, okay?”

Yeah, but he was buying. “Don’t worry about it.”

The light turned green but, in true Chicago fashion, he had to wait for another four cars to blow through the red before he could go.

“No,” she said, sounding stronger. “We’re not ten anymore. And don’t you dare turn into your mother, buying me frilly dresses that I’ll never be able to wear again.”

“First off, how dare you?” he said in mock outrage and she laughed. He grinned wildly at her. This was how he liked her—not cautious or worried, but ready and willing to give him hell. “I’m nothing like my mother, I’ll have you know. Any dress I buy you won’t be frilly.” Even as he said it, his mind began to leap ahead. Sofia had the kind of body that called out for something slinky that cut close to her body, with a deep V in front so he could properly appreciate her…assets.

“You can’t buy me clothes, Eric,” she said in a quiet voice. “Would you buy Meryl clothes? Or Steve, for that matter?”

He scowled at a car that cut in front of him. “No, but they already know what’s expected. Besides, if you think I’m going to let you walk into a situation where you’re unprepared, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

But she was right. He wouldn’t buy clothes for anyone else, wouldn’t give anyone else the afternoon off and take them shopping. Just her.

He cleared his throat as the car came to a screeching halt outside Barneys. The valet was at Eric’s door in an instant. “Mr. Jenner, good to see you again,” the man said.

“Norman,” Eric replied, handing over his keys. “Extra gentle with her, okay?” From the passenger seat, Sofia snorted.

He crossed around the front of the vehicle and opened Sofia’s door. “It won’t be that bad,” he promised, holding out his hand to her. “It might even be fun.”

Because, oddly, he was having fun. Sofia shot him a dirty look, which made him want to laugh. The few times he’d taken a woman shopping, they’d always simpered and smiled and were so effusive with gratitude that it had seemed less…real, somehow.

He didn’t want things to be like that with Sofia. He was aware of her in a fundamental way that didn’t make a lot of sense. He knew what she liked and, more than that, he knew what she needed.

Hell, he knew what he needed—but he was trying to be a better person. In the months since his ex had bailed on their wedding, he’d re-sowed a lot of his wild oats. But he wasn’t a randy kid anymore and meaningless sex was just that—meaningless. He didn’t want to chase a sexual relationship with Sofia if…

Well, if it didn’t mean anything. Because even if this relationship never became sexual, Sofia meant something to him. More than an office manager, anyway. Much more.

Then she put her hand in his and the world stopped spinning. He didn’t hear the noise of the streets or feel the heat of the summer sun on the back of his neck. He didn’t see anything but her as she raised her gaze to his. All he saw was Sofia, her hand warm and light in his. Skin to skin, he swore he felt something pass between them. Something that maybe had tugged at his awareness when he’d touched her back through her jacket during her interview. Something that couldn’t be ignored now.

“Come on,” he said gruffly, pulling her to her feet and tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow. He didn’t trust himself to say anything else.

Six

Sofia stared up at Eric in shock. What was happening? Really? Eric had been avoiding her since she’d scolded him—and she couldn’t blame him. No one wanted to hang out with a harpy. But suddenly he’d appeared in front of her desk and not only asked thoughtful questions about her twins, but seemed genuinely interested in the answers. And then, when she broke her own rule about telling him she wasn’t prepared for her job? He took her shopping.

At best, she might have expected him to send her out to Macy’s with Heather, who no doubt knew exactly what kind of dress an office manager should wear to a cocktail party with the mayor of a midsize Midwestern city.

But that wasn’t what was happening. Eric was going to take her shopping himself. At Barneys, of all places. Even with her newly generous salary, Sofia couldn’t afford to so much as walk through the doors here.

Well. This was a fine mess. She should refuse, absolutely. Except…

Except he really seemed to care about how her babies were doing now that she was back at work full-time. And sometimes, when he looked at her…she swore he was looking at her with new eyes. And she had nothing to wear and didn’t want to show up at a semiformal event representing the company in the wrong kind of dress.

No, that wasn’t the whole truth. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to feel out of place at a fancy party. She didn’t want to feel out of place when Eric looked at her.

She knew she didn’t belong in his world. He was so far above her in terms of looks and money and power… That she was even considering this was a clear indication of how nuts she was. But was it wrong if, at least for a weekend, she wanted to pretend that she fit into his glamorous life? That they were equals?

That she was good enough for him?

It’d been so long since she’d felt attractive. Pregnancy had done a number on her self-esteem and then, after David’s death, she hadn’t exactly kept up her appearance. Who cared about under-eye concealer when she could barely force herself out of bed every morning? It’d only been in the last six months—coincidentally, about the same time the twins started sleeping through the night—that she’d been able to get past the fog and start putting herself on the list of people to take care of.

How was she supposed to do this with Eric? When he looked at her with his intense eyes, it made her want to do stupid, stupid things—like let him lavish her with the finest dresses money could buy. Like hope that he’d remove those fine dresses from her body and pull her into his arms and…

She cleared her throat, trying to get her pulse to stay at a steady rhythm. What was she going to do?

Apparently, she was going to let Eric buy her clothes. It was wildly inappropriate and completely beyond the normal boundaries of common sense. God only knew what the gossip at the office would be tomorrow or—worse—after the St. Louis trip.

But did she have a choice? She didn’t even have a proper suit that fit anymore. She’d been making do with the cutest separates she could find. She’d gotten her first paycheck—with a number that was still stunning to her—but she hadn’t had time to go buy some work clothes. She couldn’t sacrifice any more time away from her babies for something as superficial as trousers.

Except for this damned cocktail party, that was. And heavens help her, she wanted to look good for him.

Her chest began to tighten in panic but she pushed back and made sure to count to four as she breathed in and then out.

“Mr. Jenner,” a polished woman who might have been in her forties or her sixties said, coming forward to meet them. “How lovely to see you back at Barneys again.”

“Clarice,” Eric said, and Sofia heard a particular tone to his voice that he didn’t use with her. Imperious, she might have called it. “This is Ms. Bingham.”

Clarice turned her sharp gaze to Sofia. “Yes,” she said, as if she’d just figured out that Sofia didn’t belong here. “Ms. Bingham, if you’d come this way? I have some options already pulled, but of course I want to take your opinions under consideration.”

“Wait—I thought…” Sofia looked dumbly at Eric. She’d assumed he’d be an active part of this. Was she wrong? She’d been nervous about him offering his opinion on each outfit. So how was the realization that he wouldn’t somehow even worse?

His face softened with a smile and she almost sighed in relief. She didn’t like him all imperious. Then he took her by the arm and led her a little away from Clarice, who immediately made it her business to focus anywhere but on them. “Surprise me,” he said as he slid his hand down and pressed her palm against his. A silky warmth flowed between them.

Her body tightened with want because oh, how she wanted to surprise him. But want had nothing to do with this. It couldn’t. “Eric, we can’t do this,” she murmured—which was true and also did nothing to explain why she couldn’t seem to pull her hand away from his.

“Don’t you dare accuse me of turning into my mother again,” he said as his thumb charted a steady course along the base of hers.

“Your mother would never—” She barely managed to get her mouth shut before something really inappropriate, like “look at me like she wants to undress me,” came tumbling out. “Bring me here,” she finished weakly.

“Shows what you know.” His grin faded and somehow, he got even closer to her. “I want to do this for you, Sofia. I want you to walk into that cocktail party looking beautiful and feeling like you’ve got the world at your feet because you are and you do. I can see it. I want everyone else—including you—to see it, too.” His fingers laced with hers, pulling her in. She was powerless to let go of him. “What I don’t want is for you to feel like you’ve lost control. If you start to panic, call me immediately, okay?” When she didn’t answer right away, he said, “Let me take care of you,” in an even softer voice.

It simply wasn’t fair of him to make her fall a little in love with him in the middle of a damned upscale department store. But that’s what happened. Eric Jenner was a sinfully rich, sinfully handsome bachelor and for some inexplicable reason, he cared about her. He understood her panic attacks. He gave her a chance. He made her smile. He made things better. How could she not fall for him? “All right.” It came out husky and low and not at all like her normal voice. But then, there wasn’t exactly anything normal about any of this.

His eyes darkened as his gaze dropped to her lips and without conscious choice, she licked them under his watchful eye. He inhaled sharply and then abruptly he stepped away from her, dropping her hand like it was hot. “I’ll…” He cleared his throat and tried again. “I’ll be in the menswear department.”

And with that parting shot, he turned on his heel and strode off. All Sofia could do was watch him go. Her hand was still warm from where they’d been skin to skin and she had to fight the ridiculous urge to run after him.

Clarice appeared at her elbow. “Are you ready?” she asked, her voice crisp.

It took real effort to tear her gaze away from where Eric’s back was disappearing down the stairs. Once again, he was putting a great deal of faith in her.

If he wanted to be surprised, then that’s what she’d give him.

“I think so.”

But when they made it back to a private fitting room, there were more than just a few cocktail dresses waiting. There were racks and racks of clothing, including business suits and shoes and even underwear. “What is all this?” Sofia asked, pressing her hand to her chest in alarm.

“When Mr. Jenner and I spoke on the phone, he made it clear that you would need to be outfitted for a cocktail party, business meetings and travel,” Clarice said, smiling in a way that was probably supposed to be reassuring. “Isn’t that what you two discussed?”

“Um…” He hadn’t said anything about suits or traveling clothes. This was supposed to be a dress. One dress. Not an entire wardrobe. “How many outfits are we talking about here?”

Clarice didn’t hesitate. “Two business suits, two evening outfits and two traveling outfits. Mr. Jenner made it clear that you were to be outfitted and accessorized from head to toe.”

Sofia’s heart began to hammer in her chest. This was too much. What part of six damned outfits that he hadn’t even discussed with her was making sure she didn’t feel like she was losing control?

She opened her mouth to refuse it all—the carte blanche, the outfits, Clarice’s knowledgeable assistance—and then she remembered what Eric had said as he’d held her hand and leaned toward her. He wanted to do this for her because he knew she was beautiful and he wanted her to believe it, too.

She closed her eyes and made sure she was still breathing. Oh, this was dangerous, that she was even considering this. She didn’t just want to surprise him when she walked into that cocktail party and she didn’t just want to look like she fit.

She wanted to feel pretty again.

She wanted to make Eric’s brain stop functioning.

“Can you make me look great? Like, really great?”

Clarice’s eyes lit up. “It would be my pleasure.”

Seven

Sofia was a mess of nerves. She hadn’t been able to eat breakfast and hadn’t slept more than twenty or thirty minutes at a time last night. For once, it had nothing to do with the twins teething.

Her luggage, packed with five different outfits and three pairs of shoes for a three-day trip, stood by the front door, waiting. Eric was going to pick her up sometime in the next fifteen minutes and drive her to the airport. From there, he, Sofia and the Nortons would fly in Eric’s private jet to St. Louis.

She was doing this. She was going away for a weekend with Eric. Business trip be damned. She had sexy lingerie in her bag, far too beautiful to keep hidden underneath clothes.

No, no—she wasn’t nervous about that. Eric wasn’t going to see her panties. She was just…nervous about flying. She’d been on an airplane exactly twice in her life, flying to and from Cancún for her honeymoon with David. She hadn’t liked it then, and that had been a big plane. Eric’s jet wasn’t much more than a puddle jumper.

In fact, the only thing keeping her from a full-on panic attack was the fact that she was being mobbed by adorable babies.

“Are you going to miss me when I’m gone?” she asked, sitting on the floor with both Addy and Eddy on her lap. Eddy’s lip began to tremble. “I’ll come back,” she promised. “I always come back, don’t I? You’ll have a lot of fun with Abuelita and Abuelito. Story time at the library, a trip to the park—”

“Pak!” Eddy yelled, flopping off her lap and toddling over to where his shoes were.

Sofia laughed. The boy would sell his sister for a swing set. “Later,” she said. “When Miss Rita gets here, you can go to the park.” Rita was a new addition to their routine, a young woman who reminded Sofia of what Rosa must’ve been like twenty or thirty years ago. Rita was a first-generation Mexican American, taking night classes, already working one part-time job and now helping out with the twins in the mornings.

Watching Rosa Cortés with Rita was a little like watching Mrs. Jenner buy dresses for Sofia when she had been a girl. Mom went out of her way to make extra food that Rita could take home because she wouldn’t have time to get anything before class. Mom often had a sweater or a dress that she’d bought because she’d thought it would fit, but when she got it home it didn’t—and it just happened to be in Rita’s size.

Sofia was just glad Mom liked Rita and seemed to embrace her help with the twins. Sofia worried less about her parents now that there was backup.

That didn’t make it any easier to leave her babies, though. Addy snuggled into Sofia’s lap, her thumb in her mouth. Sofia stroked her daughter’s hair, savoring this moment of closeness. God, she was going to miss them. But she wasn’t going to cry. She swallowed hard a few times as she breathed in Addy’s sweet baby smell. No crying allowed.

But was it wrong she was excited about this weekend trip? She was going to have a hotel room all to herself at the Chase Park Plaza, with room service and no one to wake her up in the middle of the night. She wouldn’t have to cook or clean. She had two new dresses that made her feel beautiful and the company of a man who made her want more than she could even dream about.

She had no right to dream of him, but that hadn’t stopped her from wondering if he’d wear a tux to this party. Or how he’d look if she reached up and tugged on that bow tie, unraveling the ends and pulling him toward her and—

The doorbell rang and Addy launched herself off Sofia’s lap. She and Eddy ran to the door.

“That’s the driver, Mom,” Sofia called to her mother in the kitchen, her stomach doing a little flutter. She gathered the black pashmina wrap Clarice had insisted pulled the whole look together and her purse. That, at least, was still hers. She couldn’t bring herself to let the accessorizing go so far as to include handbags. She knew exactly how expensive those things could be.

It was ridiculous that he was coming for her. He could’ve saved himself a lot of time if they’d met at the office.

But no. And he didn’t even send a separate car. Instead, his driver was picking her up, even though it was way out of the way to drive from the Gold Coast where Eric lived down to the Pilsen neighborhood where she lived with her parents.

The Nortons lived close to the Chicago Executive Airport, where Eric kept his plane—which was on the far northern side of the city. So they’d meet them there. Which meant it would just be Eric and Sofia in the car. In the back seat. Hidden from the rest of the world.

Not that it mattered, because it didn’t. This was a work-related trip. The brand-new clothes she was wearing were work clothes—although Sofia had not yet figured out in what alternative universe a silk georgette blouse and cropped white trousers constituted a “traveling outfit.” In her world, white pants were a disaster waiting to happen. But she was wearing them anyway. The same went for the cocktail dresses. The outfits had nothing to do with the way Eric had held her hand in the store or told her to let him take care of her. Not a damned thing.

She might engage in some gentle flirting because that seemed unavoidable. But Eric flirted with everyone, so that was fine. Safe, even. As long as they kept it at flirting. No undressing, no lingerie.

The doorbell rang again. Sofia took hold of Addy as Mom hurried out of the kitchen to scoop up Eddy.

Sofia opened the door, saying, “My bag is—”

The man standing in the doorway was not the driver. Eric Jenner himself stood there, looking sinfully handsome in a brightly colored button-up shirt with a linen blazer over it. Her mouth fell open and all she could do was stare at him. His hair had more of a wave than normal and he looked so damn good she could feel her resolve crumbling like a cookie in a toddler’s hands—and they hadn’t even made it to the car yet.

She was going away with him for the weekend. And he wanted to take care of her.

Oh, God.

“Sofia,” Eric began, but then his gaze was drawn to Addy, who’d curled against Sofia’s shoulder. “Good heavens,” he went on, sounding almost severe about it. “These children are even cuter in person than they are in pictures. I didn’t think that was physically possible.”

“Mr. Eric!” Mom said, struggling to hold on to Eddy. “Oh—we weren’t expecting you! Oh!” she said again, her hand flying to her chest as she looked him over. “My, you’ve grown up so much!”

Eric took that as an invitation. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Then, before Sofia’s eyes, he bowed. Bowed! “Mrs. Cortés, you haven’t changed a bit. You are as lovely as I remember.”

Mom blushed—which only made Sofia stare even more. When was the last time her mother had blushed? “Mr. Eric, we can’t thank you enough for everything—”

Eric waved her off. “Sofia’s doing a great job, just like I knew she would.” Then he leaned forward and said, “May I?” Without waiting for an answer, he plucked Eddy from her mother’s arms. “You must be Eduardo. I can tell—you’re a very serious young man.” As he said it, he tickled Eddy’s tummy.

Eddy squealed with delight and kept right on squealing as Eric lifted the boy over his head a few times, saying, “Oh, yes—very serious indeed.”

That got Addy’s attention. Although she didn’t fling herself at Eric, she sat up. She didn’t have to wait long. Eric tucked Eddy into the crook of one arm and reached out for Addy. “Hello, Miss Adelina. Aren’t you a good girl?”

“It’s all right,” Sofia reassured her and then Addy was lifted from her arms and cradled against Eric’s chest.

“There we are,” Eric said reassuringly, bouncing both children a little bit. Eddy seemed thrilled beyond words, but Addy was holding herself a little apart from him, still unsure about this strange man who’d just walked into their lives.

Next to her, Mom sighed—a noise that was part happiness, part relief and part…longing, maybe? Sofia could sympathize. The sight of her children in Eric’s arms—if possible, this was even less fair than him tenderly telling her that he wanted her to feel as beautiful as she was.

Because he was holding her children, making silly sounds and getting Addy to smile while Eddy tried to copy his sounds, with varying degrees of success.

Eric was perfect.

“Oh, Mr. Eric—I have something for you,” Mom said, hurrying off to the kitchen.

And leaving them alone. “Hi,” he said over the heads of the twins. His eyes warmed as he looked her over. “It’s good to see you.”

Oh, Lord—the only thing worse than flirting right now was sincere compliments because there was no defense against sincerity. “Hi,” she said back.

What was she supposed to say here? Because it simply wasn’t fair how perfect he was. The least the universe could do would be to make him not like children. If he showed indifference or even open dislike of the twins, it would be so much easier to keep her attraction to him under control.

But no. He had to be perfect in every way. He was going to make her fall in love with him and it was going to break her heart.

“Hey, can you take a picture? I’ll send it to my mom,” he said. “Can we smile, kiddos?”

By the time she got the camera app open, they were all laughing. No, this wasn’t fair at all. “Babies!” she said enthusiastically, which got both twins to focus on her. Eric looked up and grinned and she snapped several shots.

Then Eddy squirmed out of his arms and Sofia had to hide her smile at Eric trying to juggle the twins. But he didn’t drop either toddler, so that counted for something. “What is it, big guy?”

Chattering excitedly, Eddy made his way over to the coloring table. “He wants to show you his drawings. Which means that, in about ten seconds, Addy will want to show you her drawings, too.”

“A little friendly sibling rivalry?”

“You have no idea.”

“Sofia?” Mom poked her head out of the kitchen. “Can you give me a hand before you leave?”

Sofia frowned at her mother. Normally the woman refused any and all offers of help. But Mom gave her the look and Sofia had no choice but to say to Eric, “Will you be all right for a minute?”

“Go on,” he said, shooting her a grin that made her cheeks heat.

Mom had a small pile of food assembled on the counter. “Mom, what are you doing?”

“Mr. Eric—he always loved Jarritos. I think I have another bottle of the fresa somewhere…” she said to herself, digging around one of the cabinets. “Ah, here it is.” She pulled out the bottle of the red drink.

Strawberry had always been Sofia’s favorite, too. “Did you call me in here just to help you find some soda?” Her heart began to pound faster, but it didn’t feel like a panic attack waiting to happen.

“No, cariño.” Her mom set the soda down by the other snacks—all Mexican brands. Bags of corn chips and pastries. The kind of snacks she’d loved growing up. She remembered how Eric had always treated Takis chips like a rare and special treat.

“I want you to promise me something,” Mom said, her brow knit with worry.

What was this all about? It wasn’t like her mother to be overly dramatic. “Okay, what?”

“I want you to have some fun this weekend.” She said it in such a hushed, serious tone—like she was confessing to a sin.

“Fun?” Sofia shook her head from side to side, wondering when the world stopped making sense. Fun had always been low on her mother’s priority list. “Mom, this is a business trip. We’ll be working.”

Her mother clucked and patted Sofia on the cheek and just like that, Sofia felt like she was seven again. “Ayi, it is—but this is the first time since David died that you’ve…” Her voice trailed off.

Sofia was suddenly terrified of what her mother might say. Because what it sounded like Mom was saying was that it might be a good idea if Sofia considered sleeping with her boss on a weekend getaway and that couldn’t possibly be true. Especially not when Sofia had been daydreaming about doing just that.

“There’s nothing going on here. We’re just old friends who happen to work together now.”

Her mother gave her another look, one that had Sofia’s mouth snapping shut on any other protest. “It’s been almost a year and a half. You need to move on with your life.”

Sofia stared in disbelief, but Rosa Cortés didn’t so much as blink. “I am moving on. I got a new job and some new clothes.” Clothes that Eric had paid for. “There’s nothing else I need from him.” It didn’t matter how much that might be a lie—she was sticking to it.

“Nothing?” Mom clucked again and dug out a bag to put the snacks in. “He grew up. So handsome. And thoughtful, to come get you himself.” She sighed again and Sofia swore she could see stars in her mother’s eyes. “The twins love him. You can just tell.”

She could. Even Addy had warmed up to him in record time. “Mom…”

Because this was not the beginning of a new story. This was not a happily-ever-after in the making. And if Sofia allowed herself to buy into that delusion—that a hot, rich, thoughtful billionaire who cared for her and the children would somehow give her a perfect family and a storybook life—no. He was so far out of her league that she knew she’d fall if she tried to climb to his level. And she couldn’t fall again. She wouldn’t survive the bounce this time.

“It’s just that you’ve been through so much—you deserve a little fun, don’t you?” Mom nodded to herself as she bagged up the snacks. “It’s time for you to smile again.”

“I smile. I smile all the time.” It was hard not to smile and laugh when Addy and Eddy were being adorable—or even when they were getting into trouble.

But even as she thought that, Sofia knew she was being deliberately obtuse because that’s not what Mom was talking about and they both knew it.

Sorrow pulled at the corners of Mom’s mouth. “Ah, you smile for your children. You even smile for me and your father, as if you think we can’t see how you’re hiding behind it. But, cariño, when was the last time you smiled for yourself?” With that parting shot, Mom carried the overflowing bag of snacks and sodas out to Eric.

Sofia stood there, struggling to breathe. Mom was wrong. That’s all there was to it. She smiled. She was moving on and living her life. She…

Sofia dropped her head into her hands. She didn’t get enough sleep and every day was a new battle to be waged against crushing depression and anxiety. Her entire life had become faking it until she made it. Apparently, she wasn’t faking it well enough to fool her own mother.

And what, exactly, was that woman encouraging her to do? Seduce Eric? Have an affair with her boss? It didn’t make any sense. Although she had liked David and approved of the marriage, Rosa Cortés had been horrified when Sofia and David had moved in together before the wedding. Mom was a very traditional woman. She would never do anything as risqué as condone an affair.

But the moment the thoughts of seduction and Eric ran headlong into each other in Sofia’s head, her mind oh-so-helpfully filled in the blanks. A big soft bed in a hotel room, Eric looking at her with desire in his eyes as she slipped the buttons free on his shirt and he slid down the zipper on her dress. Would he pounce on her, all masculine strength and raw lust? Or would it be a slow seduction, one that left her shaking and begging for release?

God, she missed sex.

“Wow—Takis? I haven’t had these in years!” she heard Eric say. Sofia swung around to see him surge to his feet as Mom held out the snacks. “I can’t believe you remembered how much I liked these!” He rummaged through the bag. “And Conchas? Oh, man—these are always such a special treat! Sofia always shared these.”

Sofia watched as her mom ducked her head, another girlish blush on her cheeks. “We always brought extra for you. But not too much—we didn’t want to make your mother mad.”

“As long as we didn’t get orange fingerprints on her office furniture…” They laughed, as if the passage of years had never happened.

Have fun. Maybe Sofia was reading too much into this.

It wasn’t like she could just decide not to be anxious. It didn’t work that way. But she could make a conscious choice to enjoy herself this weekend. She could continue to fake it until she made it because even if she’d still be forcing herself to smile, she might eventually make it to having a good time. To enjoying her time with Eric. Even if that just meant sharing a bag of fried corn chips.

Or even if it meant something…more.

God, it’d be so good to smile again. To be happy again. At least now, she could almost see happiness from where she stood. It wasn’t a star hung too high in the sky that she’d never be able to reach, like it’d been in the first terrible months after David’s death.

She’d never forget her husband—she didn’t want to—but maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Eric reminded her she’d been a happy, whole person before her marriage and she might be one again.

As she watched, Eric pulled Mom into an impulsive hug. “It’s been so great to see you again, Mrs. Cortés. My parents always love to hear from you.”

“Give my best to your mother.” Just then, Eric’s watch beeped. “Oh, you must go. You’ll be late! I wouldn’t want you to miss your flight.”

Eric laughed. “Don’t worry. They won’t leave without me.”

Eddy toddled over to him, holding up a sheet of paper. Eric bent down. “This is really nice, big guy. Did you make this for me?”

Eddy grinned widely and nodded. Not to be outdone, here came Addy, also brandishing a sheet of paper. “Oh, this is lovely,” Eric said so seriously that Sofia couldn’t help but laugh. “Can you write your name on it for me?”

Addy hurried to the table and then slashed a line in bright pink across the bottom.

“That’s my girl,” Eric said and another part of Sofia melted.

He would be so easy to fall for. She could fight against the fact that he was gorgeous and the fact that he had more money than most of the rest of the city put together. She could even work around the way he treated her with kindness. But this?

Because right now, he wasn’t some unreachable fantasy. Right now, he was joking with her mother, making her babies smile—all while waiting to whisk her away for the weekend. She could almost pretend he fit in her world.

She only hoped she could pretend she fit in his. Just for a few days. Just to have a little fun.

Eddy signed his art, too—he chose a red crayon for his signature scribble. “I will treasure these always, guys,” Eric said, folding the two sheets of paper and tucking them into an inside pocket. “I’ll come back and see you again, okay? And maybe your mom will bring you out on the boat. We’ll go swimming and everything.”

Swimming didn’t mean much to the twins—but boat? “Now you’ve done it,” she told him as she came out of the kitchen, her resolve set. They were going to have a lovely weekend and that was final.

Sofia leaned down to give each of the twins another kiss on the head. “Be good,” she told them. “I’ll see you in a few days. Love you.”

Eric put his hand in the small of Sofia’s back. “Longer goodbyes only make it harder,” he said, his voice low in her ear.

He guided her through the door and down the front steps, where a long black car was waiting. It wasn’t quite a limousine, but it was close.

She looked back over her shoulder to see Mom holding the twins at the window, everyone waving. Sofia had to blink hard as she waved back and then Eric had the door open for her and she climbed into his luxury car.

He sat next to her and put the bag of snacks between them. “Ready to have some fun?”

She picked up one of the snacks. Fun. Nothing more and by God, nothing less. “Let’s go wild.”

Eight

Normally, Eric enjoyed everything about traveling to a site at the beginning of a new project. Of course he enjoyed making more money. Who didn’t? But he actually loved buying a piece of property, whether it was vacant or the buildings were dilapidated or whatever, and seeing the possibilities. He loved choosing the best option from those possibilities and making it a reality. He was good at it, too. Every development was more successful than the last. Sometimes it seemed like there wasn’t anything Eric couldn’t turn to gold.

He glanced at the woman sitting across from him. She looked amazing today—but his awareness of her went deeper than just how her backside had looked in those white pants when she’d gotten into the car.

So many possibilities.

It didn’t make any sense, how glad he was to see her. He’d gone decades without Sofia in his life and suddenly, he was waking up early, thinking of ways he could make her laugh—or make her eyes deepen with desire, make her tongue flick over her lips in anticipation…

“Should I send that picture to you or your mother?” Sofia asked.

He jerked his gaze away from her lips. “Me.” Because he wanted to hold on to that memory of Sofia’s children in his arms, of Eddy’s easy laughter, of Addy’s slow but sweet smile.

He hadn’t lied—those kids were even cuter in person. Eddy was outgoing and Addy was reserved, but they were two sides of the same coin. They weren’t identical, in either their appearance or temperament, but they did little things together that tugged at his heartstrings, like tilting their heads the same way and smiling the same smile at the same time. They matched each other perfectly in every way.

He touched his jacket, right over where he’d tucked their drawings in his inside pocket. When he thought of those babies, all he saw was possibilities.

His reaction didn’t make any sense, but he wanted to be there for them.

“There,” Sofia said, seconds before his phone chimed. “You like strawberry best, right? I suppose it’s not a great idea to load up on junk food before we get on the plane, though…” She fished out a bright red Jarritos soda from the overflowing bag Mrs. Cortés had packed.

“At least we won’t starve to death anytime soon,” he joked, twisting the cap off the soda. “I haven’t had one of these in years.” He took a long drink. And then immediately started coughing as the sugar hit his tongue like a tidal wave. “Was it always this sweet?” he choked out, his eyes watering.

Sofia laughed. He could see a little of the tension fading from around her eyes. “Yes, it was. You really haven’t had one since we were kids?”

He shook his head and took a much smaller sip of the soda. All he could taste was sugar. It wasn’t so much strawberry flavored, but damn if it didn’t taste like his childhood and all the fun he used to have with Sofia. “I know you may find this hard to believe, but I don’t exactly wander the aisles of grocery stores. I have a personal chef and I dine out a lot.”

Her lips twisted into something that might’ve been a smile. Yes, he knew she didn’t have personal chefs, but he didn’t want to do a side-by-side comparison of their lifestyles.

“That’s true, I suppose,” she said.

“Hey, none of that.” He held out his soda for her to taste. Mrs. Cortés had packed several bottles but he was possessed with the sudden urge to share with Sofia. They always had shared, back when they’d been kids, hiding from his mom’s nutritionally conscious eyes. “We’re going to have a good time this weekend and that’s final. I don’t know if I told you this yet, but you look very nice today.”

She hesitated and then took the bottle from him. “Thank you. I can’t take any credit for this outfit—or anything else. It’s all Clarice.”

“She may have picked it out,” he said, his gaze drawn to the smooth expanse of her creamy skin revealed by the low-cut blouse, “but you’re making it look good.”

Sofia’s cheeks shot bright pink and for a second, he thought she was going to scold him. Instead, she lifted the bottle and placed it against her lips.

Suddenly, Eric couldn’t do anything but watch her throat move as she swallowed. When she handed the bottle back to him, her tongue traced the path around her lips, capturing every drop of sweetness.

He went hard in a heartbeat and it only got worse when she looked up at him through her lashes. So many possibilities. How would she look, her hair undone and her lips swollen from kisses? Would she taste sweet or would she taste more complex, like a fine wine?

He shook back to himself. This was Sofia, for crying out loud. He had to stop thinking about kissing her at random times. About kissing her at all. Or about what she’d look like in a cocktail dress. Or even out of a cocktail dress.

Unfortunately, his thoughts went right back to her children. He dug out his phone and opened the picture and froze. Eddy was clapping, Addy was smiling and as for him?

He looked happy. Happier than he could ever remember looking.

This was bad. No, that wasn’t true. Bad was wanting to strip her down to nothing and spending a long evening in a private hotel suite showing her how much better he’d gotten at kissing since he’d been a kid. He wanted to do bad, bad things to her. Repeatedly. Over the course of a long weekend.

Her babies weren’t bad, because he now knew these twins and might very well keep on knowing them. He could visit them again or have Sofia bring them out on the boat. Hell, he could invite them to his parents’ house because his mother would go crazy for these babies. He didn’t have to cling to this one photo as if that was all he was going to get.

But it was worse, too—because how was he supposed to spend time with those babies and not want more? He could already see it all—the way they’d scream in delight as the boat roared across the lake. How much fun they’d have in the pool, splashing everywhere.

How was he supposed to spend time with Sofia and not think of stripping her down and covering her body with his every other second? How was he supposed to hold himself back from cupping her cheek in his palm, feeling the soft warmth of her skin against his?

He shifted in his seat. What was his problem? He was not thinking about seducing Sofia, damn it. And he couldn’t be anything more to her children than an old family friend, either. As much as he cared for Sofia and her children, it wasn’t like he could just snap his fingers and have a ready-made family come running to his side.

It was one thing to give Sofia a good salary to support her children—but another thing to think he could overcome the loss of her husband and the babies’ father. All the money and power in the world couldn’t replace David Bingham.

A happy ending for Sofia was one more thing he couldn’t buy.

But if he could, he would. Because he did care for Sofia and he could very easily care for her children.

So many possibilities.

She opened a bag of Takis chips and held it out to him. “Thank you for being nice to the kids.”

He snorted and took a chip. “You make it sound like I was forcing myself to endure their company and that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’m only sorry we couldn’t hang out more. And,” he went on, cutting her off before she could argue with him, “I was serious about coming out on the boat. I’ll get life preservers for them. Or maybe those little wet suits with the built-in floaties? Marcus had one for his son.”

That set off another round of thoughts. Marcus had married his executive assistant—Liberty Reese, who Eric had tried to poach for his own office.

How had that worked out for the Warrens? They still ran Warren Capital together. They’d adopted a little baby and somehow made a family out of almost thin air.

He shook his head. Those were questions best left for later. “While it’s a little cooler out toward the middle of the lake, the water’s a lot cleaner,” he went on. “The back of my boat opens out almost level with the water, so there wouldn’t be a big jump for them. I think they’d love it.” Then he popped the chip into his mouth.

And coughed again as his tongue caught on fire. “Were these always this spicy?” he spluttered, grabbing the soda and downing the rest of it in seconds. His eyes began to water as sweat popped out on his forehead.

Sofia laughed at him. “No, actually,” she said, studying the bag. “These are a newer flavor. Too hot?”

“I wasn’t prepared, that’s all.” But even as he said it, he swore he could see smoke curling out of his mouth. “I might never be prepared. Let’s not take these out on the boat. I’d never forgive myself if one of the kids ate one by accident.”

Her eyes narrowed as she studied him—although it was hard to look severe when eating corn chips. She didn’t even seem to break a sweat eating those hellfire chips. “You’re really serious? About the boat?”

“Sofia, when have I ever not been serious?”

She fought against a smile, he could tell. Her mouth twisted before she lost the battle and grinned at him. “Gosh,” she said, taking a pastry from the bag. “I can’t think of a time where you were never not serious.”

He liked that smile on her. He didn’t want to see worry crowding the corners of her eyes, drawing her full lips into a tight line. “Are you going to be okay this weekend?”

She looked out the window. “I think so. Yes. This is a whole different world for me, Eric. Private jets and expensive clothes and chauffeured cars…”

“Don’t forget the boat.”

She rolled her eyes, but she smiled again. “Who could forget the boat? I know we’re going to be working. But I’m determined to have fun. I haven’t had time away since…” She swallowed. “Since before,” she finished decisively.

Although it probably wasn’t a smart thing to do, Eric reached over and laced his fingers with hers. For a long moment, her hand was stiff in his and then, just when he’d decided this was another bad idea, her grip tightened around his. That spark flowed between them, but it was okay. Not a seduction. Here, in the car, they could hold hands and it would be all right.

“Sofia,” he said softly, setting the bag of food on the floor and scooting over to her. “I’m so sorry.”

Again, it was another long moment before she relaxed into him, her head against his shoulder. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling of her weight on his body. “It’s…it’s getting better. The job helps.”

“Good.” That was the most important thing, right? That he was giving her a way forward. That was the way he could help her best.

Her chest rose and fell as she took a deep breath and then, looking up at him, she said, “You help, Eric.”

Up close, her eyes were a rich brown, shimmering and sweet, like the finest of brandies. He could get drunk on her, he realized.

He didn’t know if she was leaning up to him or he was reaching down to her. Or both. He was only dimly aware of cupping her cheek with his hand and stroking his thumb over it. “I just want to make everything better for you,” he murmured, staring in fascination as her eyes darkened. “That’s what friends are for.”

“Yes,” she said, her voice little more than a whisper against his lips. “Friends.”

Then she was kissing him and he was kissing her and it was intoxicating. She tasted sweet and spicy and hot. His temperature began to climb and it had nothing to do with artificial flavorings.

This wasn’t like their first kiss. Not even close. Because this wasn’t a tentative touching of lips with their eyes squeezed shut, both holding their breath.

This kiss was everything. He traced the seam of her lips with his tongue and Sofia sighed into his mouth, opening for him. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, searching for her taste underneath.

Sofia kissed him with a wild sort of abandon, like a woman starving for air who’d just surfaced above the waves. Ah, he thought, there she was. She tasted complex and sweet, just like the woman herself.

He shifted so he could wrap his arm around her shoulders and pull her in closer before he went back to kissing her. His blood hummed in his veins as the weight of her breasts pressed against his side. Shifting, he cupped one in his hand, the weight of her heavy and warm in his palm. Sofia moaned against his mouth as he stroked her. When her nipple went tight under his touch, he had to bite back his own groan. She was so responsive. God, she’d be amazing when she let go.

He wanted her to let go now. Still teasing her nipple, he sank his free hand into her hair, tilting her head so he could let his mouth drift down her neck until he found her pulse. It wasn’t weak or irregular. Instead, her heart was beating hard and fast as a soft moan broke free of her lips. “Eric.”

This was right, he realized. Sofia was right where she belonged, in his arms. He was hard for her and wanted nothing more than to sink into her softness and make her cry out with satisfaction.

The car lurched sharply around a corner, throwing them both off balance. He clutched her by the shoulders until they were both steady.

Or steadier, anyway. Her eyes were glazed with desire and he knew he wasn’t in any better shape. All he could do was look down at her and think how much he wanted to do that again.

He didn’t take the chance because just as he leaned forward, Sofia sat back. Her gaze cleared and that delicious desire was replaced with tight lines of worry. “Oh. Oh. That was…”

She touched her lips with the tips of her fingers and Eric had to resist the urge to replace her fingers with his lips. But he didn’t get the chance because she retreated across from him. He had to drop his arm from around her shoulder, but he wasn’t going to relinquish his hold on her that easily. He wrapped his fingers around hers again.

“A mistake,” she finished weakly.

He managed not to scowl. “It didn’t feel like a mistake to me.” Why had he thought this would be easy? Because it wasn’t going to be. “Is this the part where you tell me we can’t do this?”

“We can’t.” But she didn’t pull her hand away from his. “Eric, we really can’t.”

“Why not? I like you. More than like, actually,” he admitted. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you walked back into my office. Into my life.”

“I can’t fall again,” she said, her voice breaking. She turned to look at him, her eyes bright with tears. “I have to…” She swallowed and looked away again. “I have a job to do. I don’t want to risk that.”

He rolled his eyes. “Your job has nothing to do with any of this.”

That got him a sharp look. Funny how it made him want to smile. “Don’t be intentionally dense, Eric. I need the job. I need to take care of my family. I need to keep moving forward. You’re paying me too much money—”

“Not that again,” he huffed.

“And I can’t risk that. Not for something as selfish as…” She swallowed again. “As short-term as sex.”

Eric gaped at her in confusion. “Sofia. Look at me.”

She didn’t. She could be stubborn, his Sofia. “This is exactly like the salary argument, Eric. You can afford to do whatever you want. But I can’t. I don’t have hundreds of thousands—millions—of dollars to fall back on when this doesn’t work.”

He thought about that for a moment. Really, her argument was sound. She worked for him and he had a hard-and-fast rule about relationships with his staff—he didn’t have them, period.

But Sofia wasn’t just his office manager. She was his friend. Their relationship had started long before she’d begun to work for him—and he was beginning to realize he wanted it to last long afterward. “When was the last time you had sex?”

“Really?” she snapped, jerking her hand from his. “You’re going to ask me that?”

“After that kiss? You’re damn right I’m going to ask that. When was the last time you put your needs first?” Because he was willing to bet money that Sofia was low on her own to-do list.

She squeezed her eyes shut, her lips trembling. “Don’t.”

He could read the truth on her face. She hadn’t been with anyone since her husband had died. A year and a half was a long time to go without a little loving.

He wanted to crush her in his arms and tell her everything would be okay—but hell. She’d been widowed and he’d been left at the altar and he couldn’t promise her that everything would work out just so.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try, though. He wasn’t promising her forever, after all. Just the weekend. “I’m trying to understand, babe. You need to take care of your family. I get that. But who takes care of you?” He knew her mother worried about her, too. But being mothered wasn’t the same thing as putting herself first.

She swallowed hard. “You’re not going to fight fair, are you?”

“Of course not.” She almost smiled at that—but not quite. “This weekend—let me take care of you. Which,” he added, stroking his thumb along the side of her hand, “I’m already doing. I can’t wait to see what dresses you decided on.”

“Not the same,” she muttered, yet he couldn’t help but notice that she was still holding his hand, still submitting to his touch.

“Let’s have fun this weekend,” he went on. “Just two old friends spending time together. No strings.” He leaned over and nuzzled her hair with his nose. God, she smelled so good. He wanted to devour her. “Let me put you first, Sofia. You won’t have to worry about anything.”

She didn’t answer for the longest time. “I don’t know if I can do that. Not like you can.”

That hurt more than he wanted it to. “Like me?”

“I can’t be…casual.” But she rested her head on his shoulder and it only made sense for him to tuck his arm around her again. “I mean… I don’t know what I mean.”

Eric let that thought roll around in his head. He assumed she knew about his ex-fiancée. Had she heard about the aftermath of the broken wedding? He’d gone through several high-profile, short-lived romances afterward before he’d burned himself out on meaningless sex. He hadn’t exactly loved Prudence, but he’d at least cared for her, and sex without that caring wasn’t the same. A physical release, yeah. But it hadn’t been enough. He’d needed more.

Sofia in his arms felt like more.

His body ached for hers but for more than just a release—for both of them. He wanted to make her smile and laugh and…

He just wanted to make things right again. For her and maybe for him. For them both.

He kissed her head and did the right thing. “It’s okay. We don’t have to fool around.” His body strained in protest but he ignored it. He wanted Sofia almost past the point of reason—but friends didn’t pressure friends into sex.

She snorted in what he hoped was amusement.

“But,” he went on, “if you change your mind, you let me know. Because I care about you, Sofia. I won’t hurt you.”

She was silent, but she let him hold her all the same. “Friends, right?”

“Right,” he agreed. Friends were great. Friends with benefits were even better. But he managed to keep his mouth shut. “Always friends.”

She sighed and leaned into him even more. “Thank you,” she whispered.

And although it wasn’t sex, there was something to just holding her that made Eric close his eyes and savor the moment.

He stroked Sofia’s hair. She sighed again and even that small noise made him feel good. Great, even.

He needed this. He needed her and even if this was as far as it got, it was enough. For now.

The car bumped into a pothole and Sofia’s cheek crinkled against the drawings her children had made for him. It was entirely possible, he realized, that he needed those babies, too. Their laughter, their hugs. Their joy. He needed that innocence in his life again. He was tired of being a cynic, holding himself apart from people because they’d disappoint him every single time.

He and Sofia stayed like that and Eric let himself enjoy the feel of her body pressed against his. Even this almost platonic touch felt right. She belonged in his arms.

How could he convince her of that?

Nine

“Almost there,” Eric said, his voice low and close to her ear.

All Sofia could do was nod miserably as she leaned heavily on his arm.

“I can walk,” Meryl protested weakly from just ahead of them.

“I know you can,” Steve replied, sounding almost normal, “but no one needs to watch you bounce off the walls.” With that, he swept his wife’s legs out from underneath her and cradled her to his chest.

It wasn’t much of a comfort that Sofia wasn’t the only one who’d suffered mightily on the flight to St. Louis. The landing had been a terrifying exercise in flying during a storm and there’d been no way to push back against a panic attack. It’d been so bad that she’d forgotten how to breathe and had actually blacked out for a second.

Steve had gotten sick and Meryl looked like she needed a doctor. Even Eric, who was no doubt used to flying all over the place in that tiny aircraft as well as riding the waves on his boat, looked a little green around the gills.

Sofia’s legs felt like rubber bands and her heart was still skipping at a weird rhythm—and they’d been on the ground for almost forty-five minutes. She hadn’t had the strength to protest when Eric had slung his arm around her waist and held her up. She leaned into him, barely managing to keep hold of the bottle of ginger ale. She wasn’t sure it was helping. She had no idea where her luggage was and she honestly didn’t care.

“I know it’s going to push us off schedule,” Eric said loudly so Steve and Meryl could hear him, “but I think we all need a break. Can we afford two hours?”

“No,” Meryl said, although she sounded like she was trying not to cry.

“Yes,” Eric said more firmly. “Look at it this way, Meryl—no one would expect us to have landed during that storm, anyway. We had a flight delay, that’s all. We still have all day tomorrow, too.”

Meryl moaned pitifully, which made Steve croon to her.

The sound made Sofia’s heart skip another beat, but not due to motion sickness. It was good, old-fashioned jealousy. God, she missed having someone who’d pick her up—literally or figuratively, it didn’t much matter—when life knocked her sideways.

Just then, Eric leaned down to her, his arm tightening around her waist and his voice for her ears only. “There’s your room, Sofia.”

And even though it wasn’t the same and Eric wasn’t hers, she leaned into him even more because she felt terrible and Eric was the strength she needed right now and whatever happened this weekend, they would always be friends. Even if she fell a little more in love with him, they were friends.

The Nortons’ room was across the hall from hers. “Where’s your room?” she asked as Eric fumbled with her key card.

“Next door.” He got her door open and basically set her inside, one hand still around her waist. He pivoted back to where Steve had gotten his door open. “Take as long as you guys need,” Eric said quietly, as if Meryl wasn’t right there. “It’s better to be late than be ill during the meetings.”

“I’ll be fine…” But Steve closed the door and cut off Meryl’s weak protest.

Eric pivoted Sofia into her hotel room. “I’m so sorry I’m such a mess,” she said, knowing it was pointless to apologize but apparently unable to help herself.

Eric snorted as he sat her on the bed. “I’m sorry the flight sucked. That was one of the roughest landings I’ve ever had. Wasn’t entirely sure the plane was going to hold together.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She’d wondered the same thing, right about the time she’d stopped breathing. “Maybe we can take the train home?” she said, trying to make a joke and failing.

“The weather is supposed to be clearer on Sunday,” he promised. “If it looks bad, we can make alternative arrangements.” Then he knelt before her and picked up one of her feet. Sofia was aware that her pretty new silk top was plastered to her back with sweat and the rain had done a number on her hair and she probably looked one step removed from a drowned rat. She certainly didn’t feel much better than one.

But then Eric moved. Slowly, he slid the cuff of her trouser up and pulled her brand-new Stuart Weitzman flat off her foot. There wasn’t anything strange about him seeing her bare leg. It was just a leg. God only knew he’d seen that and more back when they’d spent half a summer splashing in a pool.

But the fact that Eric was removing her shoes for her? Undressing her?

Heat flashed down her back again, which was just ridiculous. This was not a seduction. She looked like hell and felt worse and they were supposed to be getting ready for meetings with the mayor and the board of aldermen and she was not letting Eric distract her with all his tenderness and certainly not with these…

Eric’s fingertips gently caressed her calf and stroked along the top of her foot. The touch sent sparks of heat arcing up her body, burning her with desire. Her eyes fluttered shut and she had to brace her arms against the bed to keep from toppling into him.

His hands moved over her ankles, up her calves again. He warmed her skin with his palms, a strong and steady touch, and she couldn’t help but think back to that kiss in the car, the one that had managed to awaken every single sexual need and desire she’d locked away over the last year and a half.

With Eric kneading the muscles of her legs, slowly moving up higher and higher, she no longer felt clammy and sick. She felt…

Good. Warm and safe and cared for. God, she’d missed feeling this way.

“Sofia,” he said, his voice soft.

She wasn’t sure if it was a question or not. And honestly, it didn’t matter. They were friends, weren’t they? And friends helped each other out. They had fun together. They comforted each other when things went wrong—and that plane ride had been very, very wrong.

Friends didn’t let something like a few billion dollars or a private jet or luxury clothing get in the way of a friendship.

And really, once the trappings of money were removed—weren’t they just a man and a woman? Weren’t they made to fit together?

God, how she wanted to be comforted. To be touched like Eric was touching her now. She wanted to be the one taking the attention and affection instead of giving them.

“Sofia?” he said again, his voice sending low flutters through her belly.

Really, no matter what the question was, the answer was simple. “Yes.”

His hands slid to a stop on the curve of her calves. Funny how she’d never really thought of calves as being particularly sensual until now. “Will you lie down and rest for a bit?”

She looked at him then. One of the most powerful men in Chicago—and quite possibly the country, to say nothing of the world—was on his knees before her, waiting for her answer. She uncurled her fingers from where she’d fisted the bedclothes and reached out to stroke his cheek. It was still early—not even eleven yet—and his jaw was smooth. “Only if you join me.”

His eyes widened as he sucked in air. “Give me a few.” With that, he pushed back off his heels. She heard a door open and shut and then she was alone.

Sofia dropped her head in her hands. She could still feel his hands on her legs, stroking and caressing her. She could still feel his arm around her waist, refusing to let her stumble through the hotel. For that matter, she could still feel his hand surrounding hers, holding on through the turbulence. He’d refused to let go.

She could still feel his lips against hers, his tongue tracing the path of her lips, her name soft on his breath. Eric had kissed her like she was the air he couldn’t breathe without.

He was taking care of her. He wanted her to rest.

He was going to come back in here.

And she still looked like hell.

That thought finally got her to move. She downed the rest of her ginger ale and took stock. This was a really nice hotel room—king-size bed with a plush duvet, a velvet-covered sofa next to a coffee table and a television almost as big as David had ever bought. She went to the bathroom—even the toiletries were top-of-the-line. Of course they were. Eric Jenner wouldn’t settle for less.

She recoiled at her reflection. Her hair had come loose from the bun and her makeup was shot. And yet, Eric had still sat there, staring up at her as if she were the only woman in the world. The shirt was a total loss, so she stripped it off, leaving her in only her camisole. And she didn’t want to nap—or do anything else—in these trousers. Quickly, she washed her face—but then she remembered she didn’t have her toiletry kit. Her luggage was being delivered separately by a bellhop.

She’d never stayed in a hotel that had bellhops who carried up one danged suitcase before. It was probably a great thing—but she really needed her stuff now.

She was using the facilities when there was a knock on the door. “One second,” she called out, washing her hands quickly. But then she heard voices, both male.

Wait, what?

She cracked open the bathroom door to see Eric standing in an open door that…led to his room? Oh. Oh. Her room was connected to his. Of course it was. He had an executive suite. And her room was right next to his.

It shouldn’t be a big deal, that he could walk into her room or she into his. It wasn’t anything more intimate than removing her shoes, for God’s sake. But it felt like the last barrier to truly spending the weekend in his arms had just been removed. They didn’t have to walk out into the hall where Steve and Meryl might hear or see them.

Eric said, “Yes, that one goes in here. The other one goes in my room,” as he looked up. When he saw her, his face softened as his gaze took in her face, her now-bare arms. He held up a finger to her, the universal sign for hold on.

She nodded and shut the door again, collapsing back against it. Their rooms connected. He wanted her. He’d already started to undress her.

She wanted him. Oh, how she wanted him.

But even as that thought occurred to her, she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her color was almost back to normal and she didn’t look like she was on the verge of passing out again. Her hair wasn’t great, though, so she unpinned it and combed it out with her fingers. She couldn’t sleep with it pulled back like that, anyway.

She heard a door shut and then Eric said, “Do you need anything from your bag?”

“No,” she fibbed. “I’ll be right out.”

“No rush.”

Oh, but it felt like a rush. If she were going to throw herself at Eric—and that did look more and more likely—she would be jeopardizing her job and putting both of them in an awkward position. Steve and Meryl were right across the hall, so the risk of gossip spreading in the office was huge.

But damn it all, she needed him. She needed a weekend where she wasn’t going through the motions of looking fine. She wanted to be fine and she knew Eric could give her that. He already had.

Sofia took one last look at her reflection. The hair was okay. She would prefer a little under-eye concealer, but the whole look wasn’t too bad.

Have fun. Smile for yourself. That’s what her mom had said. And Eric? He’d said nearly the same thing, adding in that he wanted to take care of her. And it was so clear from his actions in the last few hours that he didn’t just mean a satisfying romp in bed. He really was taking care of her.

Her resolve set, she opened the door and stepped out.

The room was empty.

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