Her New Boss: A Rouge Erotic Romance by Michelle M. Pillow Page B
Authors: Michelle M. Pillow
Ads: Link
the tree line.
The bed and breakfast was over a hundred years old. Like most of the businesses in town, he’d owned it for a short time until the owners could afford to run it on their own. It was one of the few properties he didn’t make a small profit on, though he’d never tell Marta that. He would have been happy just to break even, but it was a matter of town pride that he earned something for his investment and he did not take their pride from them.
Stark-white siding with barn-red trim and green window boxes looked freshly painted. The front porch wrapped alongside the house, sporting wooden chairs with padded floral seats. In truth, the house should never have been a bed and breakfast, as it was too small, but he managed to make it work. Widowed and childless, Marta had no one. So Jackson encouraged her to use her strength, which was taking care of others.
‘She asked about you,’ Mac said as Jackson began to walk toward the first restaurant he’d ever owned and the only business property still under his name in Dabery. He heard the telltale teasing to the man’s tone.
Jackson knew he should keep walking, but he couldn’t stop himself from turning back around. Zoe preoccupied his fantasies, stirring the kind of constant lust he thought he finally had under control once he hit his mid-twenties. But one thought of Zoe had him as randy as an eighteen-year-old boy hiding in the girls’ locker room during shower time.
‘She asked if you were married.’ Mac grinned. ‘And about your family.’
‘Normal questions,’ Jackson said, though inside his stomach tightened.
‘Did the secret code change? Because when I was your age and a pretty woman asked if I was married, it meant –’
Jackson laughed. ‘Mac, tell the truth. When did a pretty woman ever ask you anything?’
‘Boy, you’re not too old to bend over my knee,’ Mac warned, suppressing a good-natured grin. ‘But you are sure as hell old enough to know you won’t be young forever and if a pretty girl is interested you ask her out on a date.’
Date his new cook? A woman who he had brought down here in a drunken fit to punish? Jackson gave a small laugh. ‘They have laws against dating employees.’
‘We’re from the South.’ Mac winked. ‘Since when do we worry about laws?’
‘Jackson pumped new life into the town. He bought shares in the old stables, rebuilt them better than ever and created jobs. Now Dabery’s stallions are bought all over the world. Once they were operating enough to support themselves, he sold his share to the original ranchers and became a local hero.’ Marta smiled, pointing at the pictures along the walls of her bed and breakfast. The old newspaper clippings were from the mid-1900s when horse shows seemed to draw much of the town’s attention. ‘A run of bad luck struck this town in the 70s and we all struggled. People were moving away and this town almost died, but Jackson brought us back to life.’
Zoe nodded, following Marta’s hand to more recent editions of the
Dabery News
. Jackson’s face graced the clippings. Some of the earlier ones showed him with hair to his chin, in T-shirts and blue jeans, then later in business suits and a crew cut, to the most recent with short, styled hair expertly mussed with gel, and designer-label clothing. She paused, captivated by his frozen smile and the happy light in his eyes. Her heartbeat quickened. If she were a teenage girl alone in her room, she would have pressed her mouth to the photograph. She tried to ignore the attraction she felt for her new boss, but it was there – raw and so very real.
Marta’s cheery disposition fit the Victorian-decorated farmhouse atmosphere of her business. Her blonde, upswept hair created a curled effect around her smooth face. Tiny lines gave away her advanced age, but it was impossible to tell how old she really was. Dangling crystal earrings and a matching jewel necklace added flair to the rose-embroidered jacket
The bed and breakfast was over a hundred years old. Like most of the businesses in town, he’d owned it for a short time until the owners could afford to run it on their own. It was one of the few properties he didn’t make a small profit on, though he’d never tell Marta that. He would have been happy just to break even, but it was a matter of town pride that he earned something for his investment and he did not take their pride from them.
Stark-white siding with barn-red trim and green window boxes looked freshly painted. The front porch wrapped alongside the house, sporting wooden chairs with padded floral seats. In truth, the house should never have been a bed and breakfast, as it was too small, but he managed to make it work. Widowed and childless, Marta had no one. So Jackson encouraged her to use her strength, which was taking care of others.
‘She asked about you,’ Mac said as Jackson began to walk toward the first restaurant he’d ever owned and the only business property still under his name in Dabery. He heard the telltale teasing to the man’s tone.
Jackson knew he should keep walking, but he couldn’t stop himself from turning back around. Zoe preoccupied his fantasies, stirring the kind of constant lust he thought he finally had under control once he hit his mid-twenties. But one thought of Zoe had him as randy as an eighteen-year-old boy hiding in the girls’ locker room during shower time.
‘She asked if you were married.’ Mac grinned. ‘And about your family.’
‘Normal questions,’ Jackson said, though inside his stomach tightened.
‘Did the secret code change? Because when I was your age and a pretty woman asked if I was married, it meant –’
Jackson laughed. ‘Mac, tell the truth. When did a pretty woman ever ask you anything?’
‘Boy, you’re not too old to bend over my knee,’ Mac warned, suppressing a good-natured grin. ‘But you are sure as hell old enough to know you won’t be young forever and if a pretty girl is interested you ask her out on a date.’
Date his new cook? A woman who he had brought down here in a drunken fit to punish? Jackson gave a small laugh. ‘They have laws against dating employees.’
‘We’re from the South.’ Mac winked. ‘Since when do we worry about laws?’
‘Jackson pumped new life into the town. He bought shares in the old stables, rebuilt them better than ever and created jobs. Now Dabery’s stallions are bought all over the world. Once they were operating enough to support themselves, he sold his share to the original ranchers and became a local hero.’ Marta smiled, pointing at the pictures along the walls of her bed and breakfast. The old newspaper clippings were from the mid-1900s when horse shows seemed to draw much of the town’s attention. ‘A run of bad luck struck this town in the 70s and we all struggled. People were moving away and this town almost died, but Jackson brought us back to life.’
Zoe nodded, following Marta’s hand to more recent editions of the
Dabery News
. Jackson’s face graced the clippings. Some of the earlier ones showed him with hair to his chin, in T-shirts and blue jeans, then later in business suits and a crew cut, to the most recent with short, styled hair expertly mussed with gel, and designer-label clothing. She paused, captivated by his frozen smile and the happy light in his eyes. Her heartbeat quickened. If she were a teenage girl alone in her room, she would have pressed her mouth to the photograph. She tried to ignore the attraction she felt for her new boss, but it was there – raw and so very real.
Marta’s cheery disposition fit the Victorian-decorated farmhouse atmosphere of her business. Her blonde, upswept hair created a curled effect around her smooth face. Tiny lines gave away her advanced age, but it was impossible to tell how old she really was. Dangling crystal earrings and a matching jewel necklace added flair to the rose-embroidered jacket
Similar Books
