Married To The Boss by Lori Foster Page B

crossing her arms over her chest in an oddly protective gesture that made him want to hold her again, gently this time, to comfort her.
    â€œNo.” She shook her head, and her hair threatened to come completely undone. One long tendril dropped down across her forehead, fascinating him and making her huff with impatience. “I have no intention of…of…”
    He wanted badly to smooth her hair and started to do just that. “Frolicking among nature?” He knew he was obsessed with her hair, like a pioneer male waiting anxiously to get a glimpse of a woman’s ankle. Good God, it was only hair, and all women had it. It was just that Dana had always kept hers neatly pinned up, making his curiosity run wild.
    She smacked his hand away before he could actually touch her. “It isn’t funny, R.J.!”
    Neither was his throbbing erection, but he was dealing with it the best he could. Which was evidently far better than she could deal with her own arousal. Dana had a tendency to get snippy when she was turned on or sexually frustrated. He’d found that out each time he kissed her. He wondered what would happen when she could let all that passion loose, rather than struggle to restrain it.
    He wondered what would happen tonight.
    Smiling, he looped his arm around her shoulders and again tried to get her on the winding path that led to the front door. “No doubt Betty, my housekeeper, heard the limo and is waiting for us. She’ll have no idea what we’re doing out here.”
    â€œThat’s a relief!”
    R.J. was feeling just contrary enough to give her a squeeze. “We’re married now, sweetheart. We can damn well cavort wherever we please.” And soon,he’d be cavorting with her in her bed, where he intended to leave her. He liked his privacy, whether she valued her own or not. He expected to consummate the marriage with as little fuss as possible, pleasing her, pleasing himself, but no more than that. He’d remain detached and efficient and he’d fulfill her demands while still keeping as much emotional distance from her as possible. It could be done; he’d had sex with any number of women without feeling a single thing beyond physical satisfaction.
    And afterward he’d hold her until she dozed off, then retreat to his own room.
    He liked sleeping alone, damn it, and he expected to go on liking it. He was thirty-nine years old and he’d never before been inclined to share his bed. He didn’t intend to start now.
    If she wanted to repeat the procedure nightly, well, who was he to complain about an available lover? He’d always had a very healthy sex drive, and no doubt the arrangement would prove convenient.
    She’d be happy with the bargain, damn her, and he’d still keep himself safe.
    Betty was waiting at the door when they reached it, her large brown eyes curious, her hands clutched together at her rounded middle. She was more than twenty years his senior, but as spry as a teenager and as protective and bossy as a surrogate mother. When they neared, a wide smile broke out over her pleasant face.
    â€œThere you are! I wondered what happened to you.”
    â€œSorry if we worried you, Betty.” R.J. pressed Dana forward. “My bride showed an unexpected interest in the grounds.”
    Dana reached a hand out. “Hello, Betty. I’m Dana Dillinger.”
    R.J. made a tsking sound. “How soon they forget. It’s Dana Maitland now, love. At least, if that’s what you want.”
    â€œOh.” Dana looked almost bewildered as Betty took her hand in a warm welcome.
    The housekeeper, who thought any outdoor activity was thoroughly heinous, gave Dana an inquiring look. “The grounds?”
    â€œAll the beautiful trees and shrubs,” Dana clarified.
    â€œOh, yes. Mr. Maitland does like puttering around outside.” Her nose had wrinkled slightly, and then she ushered them both inside.