We both stand straighter as she approaches his desk.
She sets a folder down on his desk. “The information on the Mansetti project you requested.”
“So you’re back up on your feet, I see,” Weston says. “Glad to see it.”
“I’m not really supposed to be,” she admits. “I’m supposed to take it easy, but you know me. I’m going crazy sitting all day.”
“Thank you for the files,” he says, and I can’t quite be sure but I think he’s blushing. I know I am.
Rosetta turns from us and with great effort, she makes the trek back to her desk. It’s painful to watch her exit the room.
As soon as she’s out of earshot, he pulls me to him. “That was close.”
“I know,” I whisper. “We need to be more careful.”
He laughs. “I think she’s on to us.”
I feign ignorance. “Maybe.”
I smile at her antics.Going crazy sitting all daymy ass. She specifically made the effort to catch us in the act. I don’t know her that well, but I know enough to know how her mind works. The woman cannot be trusted.
“Well, I better get back to work, Sir. Lots to do.”
He slaps me once more. “Okay, you get to it, Grasshopper.”
I smile like an idiot all the way out of his office. As soon as I exit his door, I plaster on a serious expression for Rosetta’s benefit. But like I said, the woman is no idiot.
She can see right through me.
She raises a brow as I walk past her desk. “What were you two up to in there?”
I bite my lip. “Uh… nothing.”
“A little slap and tickle?” she teases, and I blush crimson at the accuracy of her statement.
“I’m not telling you anything.”
She pouts. “You’re so cruel. I’ve been married for thirty-four years. Give a woman a little something to live for.”
I smile as I settle back at my desk. “Okay… I’ll just say one thing. It wasn’t so much a little slap and tickle as it was a little slap and nibble.”
Her jaw drops. “Well, who knew Mr. Boss Man had that in him. He seems like such a civilized gentleman, all proper and stuff. Well, goes to show you can never judge a book by its cover. It’s always the stiff-upper-lip types who are the wildest in the sheets.”
“Not another word,” I scoff. I press a finger against my closed mouth. “Mum’s the word.”
* * *
I don’t seeWeston again for the rest of the day, and it drives me crazy. He’s driving me insane with these small bits of teasing and attention. I want more. I want more than stolen touches and sweet words. But then again, I’ve made up the rules myself: no sex, no kissing. Why the heck am I complaining? Should I amend the agreement?
The truth is I’m scared. I’m scared of going too far, and regretting it. I’m terrified of falling for him and getting hurt. I also worry about crossing lines and losing my job.
And I love the dance.
