An Executive Decision by Grace Marshall

keep what had happened that first night in his lounge from happening again, he hadn’t noticed, he had just let her struggle through. And with Marston being such an asshole as well, Jesus, what did he expect from a woman of her calibre? It wasn’t any easier for her than it was him. She had loved Beverly too. And she had been thrown in at the deep end, thanks to him. No one could have coped better under the circumstances. He’d tell her that when she woke up.
    She shifted again, and mumbled something about Alan Marston. This time she settled still closer to his cock, which had most definitely noticed her nearness, though he tried not to think about how badly he wanted her, tried not to think about the Executive Sex Clause. But her lying there with her head in his lap in the dark of the limo made him feel all sorts of things, all sorts of desires that most of the time he just ignored. He mentally shook himself. How could he even think about sex when she was exhausted, and when that exhaustion was because of him? That she had called out his name in her sleep stirred him in places that weren’t just his trousers. With a jolt that was much less pleasant, he reminded himself he was probably in the starring role of her nightmare. That saddened him deeply. He found he really wanted her dreams of him to be good, warm, even sexy like his were of her.
    Too soon the limo pulled into Dee’s driveway, and when several gentle shakes and the calling of her name didn’t wake her, Ellis reached into his pocket and handed Jefferies the keys he’d take from Dee.
    ‘One of those is her house key. Find it and unlock it for me, would you please, and let’s hope she doesn’t have an alarm.’
    He undid his seatbelt and was able to half-coax, half-manhandle the sleeping woman out of the limo and into his arms. When he physically lifted her, she mumbled something about her computer, wrapped her arms around his neck, and nuzzled in close. Jesus, she wasn’t making this easy.
    By the time he’d carried her up the sidewalk, Jeffries had the door open and the hall light switched on. ‘Shut the door behind me and wait in the car,’ he said. ‘I won’t be long.’
    If the driver had any thoughts on the inappropriateness of the situation, he had the good graces not to show it.
    The house was large for one person, well-decorated, with clean lines and open-planned living. He reminded himself Dee could afford it. She was not living beyond her means. He carried her up the free-standing stairs to the mezzanine that was her bedroom, managing the light switch with one elbow. There he found hard wood floors and more clean lines in shades of blue and earth tones, reminding him of the colours on the coast only a short drive away. On a king-sized bed that was more like a glorified futon on a raised platform, two very large tabby cats looked up at him through drowsy eyes, blinked, then went back to sleep.
    He sat Dee carefully on the edge of the bed, holding her against his body with one arm to keep her from falling, while he awkwardly pulled back the comforter. Then, with her still leaning heavily on him, he slipped off her shoes and manoeuvred her out of her jacket, feeling the press of her warmth. For a second she roused. ‘Ellis?’ she mumbled. ‘What are you doing here?’
    ‘Making sure you go to bed,’ he said, not certain if she’d even heard him before she was asleep again.
    He tossed her jacket aside and eased her back onto the pillow, where she nestled down and sighed contentedly. He studied her for a minute, resisting the urge to remove any more clothing to make her more comfortable. The woman was asleep. That was the main thing. He pulled the comforter up over her shoulders, then, almost as an afterthought, bent and kissed her carefully on the cheek. ‘Sleep well, Dee. I’m sorry it’s been so hard. It will get better. I promise.’ Then he turned and left, switching off the light before he descended the stairs, fighting the