Free The Greek Boss's Demand by Trish Morey Page A

tomorrow.
    She glanced at her watch. It was late, and it wastime she left if she wasn’t going to be late picking up Jason from after-school care.
    Then she remembered. Sofia had left the copy for her engagement notice for the weekend papers on her desk, wanting it to be faxed to the newspaper today. She made a quick call to the newspaper, checked it wasn’t too late, and started keying in the number in the backroom fax. The front office door swung open and clicked shut.
    â€˜I’ll be right with you,’ she called down the hallway, wondering why a courier would be delivering this late in the day.
    The fax machine beeped its way through the number and started churning through the page. Satisfied that the copy would make it to the newspaper desk, as promised, Alex turned—only to collide with solid man, solid heat.
    â€˜Nick!’ she said, bouncing breathlessly off his chest as his hands shot out to steady her. ‘I didn’t hear you.’
    Nick held onto her shoulders, even though she was in no danger of falling now.
    â€˜We didn’t expect you until tomorrow. Sofia will be pleased.’
    He hesitated a second. ‘And are you pleased, Alexandra?’
    His face was close, the late afternoon stubble on his skin lending a dark, threatening shadow to his jaw. He smelt of coffee, of airline whisky, and man. Pure, unadulterated testosterone. It assailed her senses. It permeated her skin through his touch on her shoulders. It tickled her nose and warmed her lungs, her chest, her body.
    She swallowed. ‘How did the trip go?’
    â€˜You haven’t answered my question. Are you pleased I’m back?’
    His eyes glinted, challenging her as his words had done a moment before. It made her kick up her chin.
    â€˜No. I mean, yes. I mean—’
    His eyes lit up and his lips curled. ‘Yes and no? Some good, some not so good. Tell me how this can be.’
    Alex paused. She hadn’t meant to be so honest. But how to respond? She gulped. ‘Yes, because it’s good you’re back safely.’ Chicken. ‘And no, because you seem to enjoy making my life difficult.’ At least that bit was true.
    â€˜I don’t mean to make your life difficult. I think you do that yourself.’
    â€˜What?’ she said, trying unsuccessfully to shrug out of his hands. ‘How do you figure that?’
    â€˜Because I know what your answer really means.’ Alex stilled her struggles. All of a sudden his grip noticeably gentled; now he was stroking languid lines along to her neck. After the strain of a long day assembling reports, the massaging effect was heaven. Her head dipped involuntarily towards his stroking touch.
    â€˜You are scared of me. Your head tells you I shouldn’t be here, while at the same time your body reaches out for me.’
    Her head snapped up.
    â€˜Rubbish. I—’
    His massage grew more firm, retaining her within his grasp. ‘And that’s how you make your life more difficult. By denying yourself the pleasure you know you will find with me.’
    His arms tightened around her as he moved closer, cupping her head with his hands.
    â€˜And there is no doubt you will find pleasure with me.’
    She gazed up at him and knew he was right. She was battling the demon of desire and it was sapping her of all her strength. Yes, she would find pleasure with him. Of that there was no doubt. But it was a battle she had to fight. A battle she had to win.
    Only now, with his face descending towards hers, passion flaring in those deep, dark eyes as his hands continued to mould her to him, it was hard to remember why.
    Her breasts felt him first, her nipples crushing to his chest with a burning need to get closer, ever closer. She let herself be gathered tight in his embrace, pressing herself against the long, strong length of his body, watching him dip his head, slant his lips across hers. They shared a breath between them, shared