Back on Blossom Street. Debbie Macomber
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“Yes, sir.” She probably should’ve apologized but she couldn’t make herself do it. The thought of losing her job because she’d been polite to her employer was ridiculous. And yet … She and Derek had made an offer on a house and needed her income to qualify for the loan. Everything would fall apart if she was fired.
“Why?”
“Why did I wish you a good morning?” she repeated, wanting to be sure she understood the question.
He gave her a half nod.
“Well,” she murmured, “I was just being courteous.”
“Are you new to the company?”
“I’ve worked here for two years.” Her throat felt scratchy but she refused to let him see how nervous she was by clearing it. Dempsey’s was currently the largest Seattle import company and one of the biggest on the West Coast.
He frowned as if he didn’t believe her. “I haven’t seen you before.”
Colette squared her shoulders. “I received a promotion from customs clearance on the fifth floor to working as a customs broker.”
He studied her in silence, and when he spoke, she found his question surprising. “Is that a wedding band on your finger?”
“I was married a few months ago.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t know how to respond. Anything she said might be considered crossing the line between professional respect and what could be perceived as excessive familiarity.
“Peter is leaving my employment and I’m looking for a personal assistant. You’ll do.”
“Me?” Colette slapped her hand over her heart in astonishment. “What about HR? Shouldn’t they be sending you people to interview?”
“Do you want the job or not?”
“I … sure. Only …”
“I prefer to hire my own assistants. Now, are you interested?”
At that point, she should have asked any number of questions; instead, she nodded.
“Good. Peter will train you. I don’t know what you’re earning per hour, but from this point forward you’ll be salaried.” He named a figure that was three times more than her current rate. Colette nearly fainted.
“Thank you,” she managed to mumble. Before leaving, she almost curtsied, such was Christian’s effect on her.
That had been the beginning. For the next five years, she made Christian Dempsey’s travel arrangements, screened his calls, wrote his letters, did research of various kinds, checked contracts and hired translators. She also booked his tee times at the local country club, made reservations for his dinner dates and set up all his appointments. When it came to the business, she was aware of every detail. Or so she’d assumed. She even purchased corporate Christmas gifts on his behalf. The one thing she knew next to nothing about was his family. His mother was dead, although how she’d learned that she couldn’t remember. Probably gossip she’d heard from Jenny or Mark. But in all that time Christian had never said a word about his father or any siblings.
For the past five years, Colette had spent nearly every work day looking after the details of his business life—and his private life. She dealt with the women, too, and there was no lack in that department. This was hardly surprising, since Christian was rich, powerful and dynamic, not to mention attractive. Equally unsurprising, these relationships never lasted long.
She and Derek were grateful for the money she earned, which they spent on things for the house and traveling. They’d taken trips to Australia and New Zealand, Europe and China, purchased new cars and dined out often. Colette enjoyed the benefits of her job. Then they’d decided to start their family and that was when her marital troubles began. She couldn’t get pregnant. There seemed to be no obvious reason, but Derek refused to seek medical help. In his opinion, if a pregnancy happened, it happened and if not, that was fine by him, too. It wasn’t fine with Colette; she wanted children, and her inability to conceive had devastated her.
After her husband’s death, Christian had been exceptionally kind. The biggest and most elaborate floral arrangement at the funeral had been from Dempsey Imports. He gave her a month off with pay, of which she’d taken two weeks. After that, it was either go back to work or go crazy. As much as possible, her work life returned to normal—until the company Christmas party.
Colette had handled all the arrangements for the party, which was held at a posh downtown hotel and took place on the third Friday of December. Dinner was followed by entertainment and dancing. It was her first Christmas without Derek, so her parents had wanted her to join them in Colorado. Colette’s flight was leaving late Saturday afternoon.
To blame alcohol for what happened would’ve been too easy. Yes, she’d had too much to drink. She’d always been fond of champagne and there’d been plenty of it available. Christian had been drinking, too. Perhaps more than a few glasses; she hadn’t kept count. They were both a long way from being clearheaded and sober, that was for sure.
At the end of the party, in the wee hours of the morning, she and Christian were the only people left. He’d thanked her for her part in making the evening a success. She’d already received her Christmas bonus but he surprised her by presenting her with a gift—a cameo on a delicate gold chain. Colette hadn’t known what to say. She couldn’t imagine Christian actually taking the time to shop for her. She was the one who always purchased gifts on his behalf. The gesture had touched her deeply. With this gift, Christian was telling her how sorry he was that she’d lost her husband. He was letting her know he appreciated everything she’d done for him and for the company.
Her eyes had clouded with tears. He tried to dismiss her gratitude but she wouldn’t allow him to do that. Impetuously she stood on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek. Christian clasped her shoulders and stared down at her, his brow furrowed. Then slowly, as though he was waiting for her to stop him, he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was explosive, not at all the gentle expression of thanks she might have expected. Colette was knocked off balance, physically and emotionally.
When the kiss ended, they were both breathing hard. He looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. He murmured something she couldn’t quite hear; a moment later, she realized he’d told her he was getting a room. No one needed to spell out his intentions, or her own. She wanted him to make love to her. Her head was spinning and even as he led her to the elevator and then to the suite, she knew this was a mistake. Yet she couldn’t make herself walk away. She’d been lonely for so long.
When Christian unlocked the door and they entered the room, she made one feeble effort to introduce a note of reason.
“Are you sure we should be doing this?” she’d asked, barely recognizing her own voice.
Christian had responded with a soft laugh. Then they were kissing again, his mouth warm as his tongue found hers. The passion in him left her trembling. They broke apart only long enough to breathe. In a brief moment of sanity, she tried to talk but all that escaped were incoherent sounds that seemed to encourage him.
He led her to the bed, stripping off her clothes as they made their way across the suite. They literally fell onto the bed. The ache in her