KiltedForPleasure by Melissa Blue

heartache if you only measured it by the ache of loss. Some things you shouldn’t know about your boss. Intimacy, in any form, bred familiarity. Boundaries disappeared and you ran the risk of being screwed over.

    It all messed with her head and made her heart soften. She stared into Callan’s flushed face as he stood on her cottage’s doorstep, a manila folder fisted in his left hand. His nostrils flared as they held each other’s gaze. Maybe this was how he’d felt when he’d first seen her—a mixture of exasperation, anger and a visceral need to cuss. And defeat. It soured in her mouth like a lemon, because she was trapped.

    Still, she had to swallow the foolish need to kiss him again and would choke the urge down if she had to. “I’m guessing you’re here to talk about the additional work. Ian contacted you about it, I’m sure.”

    Callan brushed past her into the living room. “The shite sent me the revised contract and more money. He deposited the money first.”

    After listening to their family’s shared history, it sounded like something her boss would do. The man didn’t ask, often. Seems to be a family trait .

    “That sounds like something you should bring up with Ian.”

    She quickly shut the door to keep from freezing to death and then pulled the loose straps of her dress up. Her I’m-feeling-homesick dress had maybe five more washings before it turned into a faded mess. This time she was the one under-dressed for a meeting.

    He’d planted himself in front of the stone hearth and looked out of place. Her rented cottage was one doily away from being a grandma’s haven. The soft lace curtains and floral wallpaper only cinched that image, and sadly it only made him more masculine in comparison.

    Realizing she’d just been standing at the door, staring at him, she moved to the couch. “If you’re clear on the new terms, then why are you here? In a suit of all things.”

    Callan pressed the folder to his leg and leaned against the mantle with his free hand. The muscles of his shoulders were high and tight. “My time is disregarded once again and again I can’t really say no. More money. More security. You—” his voice deepened, grew darker, “—are to blame.”

    A shiver of warning danced down her spine. From the sharp edge in his voice, he wouldn’t need much to tip him over. Cautious, she said, “More money? Sounds like you should thank me.”

    He laughed and finally turned. “Thank you, Burke.” He tossed the folder on the coffee table. “Now you’ve committed to taking care of Baird for three months.”

    She hadn’t thought of that. Her mind had been focused on her job, where it should be. “A deal is a deal.”

    She pulled the straps up again. His gaze roved over her skin, following the thoughtless movements. Her nipples pressed against the thin material. If she crossed her arms to hide her reaction to him, it would only make things worse.

    “Why are you here?” The words fell out of her mouth in a breathless ramble.

    He tugged at his tie until it unraveled from its knot, his focus fixed on her. “Because I told myself to leave you alone on my drive home, but then there’s the cottage. There you are.” He bit out the words. “As soon as I walked in the door, I get a call from Ian.” He put up his hands and mimed wringing a neck, likely hers. “I wanted to throttle you, but I’m not entirely surprised. The McCullough frames needed work. You’ve got a good eye for catching it.”

    She sifted through his grouching. He’d stopped by because he wanted to see her. He’d noticed the needed repairs, like she had. “Oh.”

    Warmth spread in her chest. Dammit. She didn’t date men in her field for this very reason. Sex and their work crossed over too often. A late night in bed and he shows her some antique he’s working on. She gives an absent opinion, her mind really on sex or sleep. He runs with it because he knows her background. It was too much like