Giving Up the Boss Read online

  He doesn’t remember anything. He probably doesn’t remember how he got here. Why do I have to tell him?

  Wouldn’t it be easier regaining his trust if he didn’t hate her for landing him in this position?

  Spin this all you want. The truth is you just don’t want to tell him what happened.

  Sure, but it didn’t make the logic any less valid. They’d be over the moment he remembered anyways. What did it matter if she kept one more thing from him during that time?

  “I’m here because you’re my friend as well as my boss,” she amended. “What do you remember?”

  He shook his head. “Not much. You, standing over me. The doctor. The rest is a blur.”

  No memory of me mowing him down.

  “You lost your memories and your wrist is fractured, but other than a few scrapes and bruises you’re healthy.”

  “I guess it could have been worse.”

  She tilted her head to the side. Normally, he would have taken issue with his health being anything less than one hundred percent and would have made her call in every senior physician attending on the floor.

  “Was anyone else hurt?”

  “Just you.”

  He nodded. “Good.”

  She reached out to take his hand. “I know this is scary, but you’ll get through it.”

  He stared at their clasped hands. “Thank you, Ms. Carlow.”

  “Lori,” she corrected with a tight throat. “You call me Lori.”

  “Tell me more,” he ordered, closing his eyes.

  “Uh.” She hesitated. Where did she start? “Your name is Jackson Sinclair. You have one brother named Marc.”

  “Do I like him?”

  She smiled. “Yeah. The two of you butt heads over business matters, and you don’t see each other often, but you love him.”

  “I told you that?”

  “No,” she replied. “Still true, though.”

  Blue eyes opened to focus on her again. “More.”

  “You two took over your father’s company when your parents died. A heart condition, with your mother. I’m told your father sort of faded away the first year without her. Being the oldest, you stepped up and took over his position with the company. By your mid-twenties, you were the CEO of Sinclair Enterprises, a telecom empire you’ve turned into a billion-dollar corporation.”

  “So I’m in charge of a company.”

  “Yes.”

  “And a billionaire.”

  “Yes.”

  He nodded before glancing around the room. “Where’s my brother?”

  Her heart clenched. He found out he had endless wealth, and that was his first question?

  “Marc is in Australia working on a business deal. There’s…a lot happening that I need to fill you in on.”

  “Business matters?”

  She nodded.

  “I think I’m taking the day off work.”

  “Of course. All this can wait. We’ll get you discharged and settled back at home and maybe something will jog your memory.”

  “Good plan,” he agreed. “You should find the doctor and get our timeline to get out of here.”

  “Right away.” She tried to stand only to find herself jerked back when Jackson wouldn’t release her hand. “Unless there’s something else you need.”

  “It’s ridiculous.”

  She sat back down. “What is?”

  “I should know better than this.”

  She cupped her free hand over his. “What?”

  His wolf-like gaze found hers. “It just hit me.”

  “What did?”

  “If you walk out that door and don’t come back, I’m lost.” He shook his head. “You know more about me than I do. I don’t even know where home is to recover.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” she vowed.

  “I know. Temporary weakness. Just go get the—”

  “My first day,” she interrupted, “you told me my job would be hell. I’d be on call all hours of the night. I’d be whisked off to international locations with no more than a half-hour’s notice. I’d be given endless mountains of work no one could reasonably handle.” She smiled. “But then you said, if I managed to survive all that, I’d be right next to you when you made decisions with global impacts. I’d see the world through your eyes, and we’d make it better. You grinned and asked me if I was in or out.” She tightened her hands on his. “I’m still in. Until you get your memory back, I’m not leaving your side. Okay?”

  He reached out with his free hand and brushed back a stray lock of hair hanging in her eyes.

  “Okay,” he said as he tucked it behind her ear.

  Don’t read anything into this. He’s sick. He’s recovering. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing.

  But she did. And as she walked out the room to find the doctor, she couldn’t help brushing her hair just as he had.

  Chapter Four

  “Are you sure that’s my house, and not a movie set we’ve accidentally driven into?”

  Lori glanced over at the man by her side, staring up at the three-story mansion before them. “Yep.”

  “I live here alone?”

  “Not even a cat.”

  He shook his head. “Why?”

  “I’ve never heard you complain about it before. You love this place.”

  Sighing, he started down the path to the front door. “Come on. Let’s do this.”

  “Maybe you’ll remember something,” she said, chasing after him. After unlocking the door, she moved out of the way, so he could explore his home.

  There was no hesitation as he strode forward. He gave the grand entrance hall with its elegant crystal chandelier a fleeting glance before veering left into a sitting room.

  Dropping her purse on a table in the hall, she trailed after him as he navigated the first floor. They moved from the kitchen to library to den without a word. With each new room, he’d look around for a few seconds before moving on until he was barely pausing as he stalked through his house. Taking the stairs two at a time, he raced up to the second floor while Lori followed more slowly. By the time she stepped onto the second-floor landing, Jackson had already torn in and out of the half-dozen guestrooms and was heading for the master suite.

  “Anything?” she asked when he stopped in his bedroom doorway.

  “Zip.”

  A sigh escaped her. “It just takes time. The memories will come back.”

  He stepped into the room that was bigger than her whole apartment. “None of this feels familiar.”

  “It’s your first day home,” she tried. “Give it a while.”

  “From what you’ve told me about the company, time isn’t something I have much of.”

  “We don’t have to be in the office tomorrow. Even Marc understands you need some time before we start this game.”

  “People’s lives aren’t a game.”

  Her lips twitched. The words were utterly Jackson, or the man he’d been before the accident. It gave her hope a piece of the old him was still in there.

  “No,” she agreed. “They aren’t.” Crossing to him, she touched his arm. “But you also just got discharged. You need sleep. And food. Maybe even a drink. I know I could use one.”

  “I’d settle for a shower.”

  She crossed the room to open the side door. “Luckily you have a bathroom fit for royalty. Or one that can house a family of four.”

  His smile flashed briefly before he held up his arm. “This might be tricky with a fractured wrist.”

  “I can help you shower,” she said before she had a chance to think about what she was offering.

  He arched a brow. “What?”

  “Uh.” She hesitated. “I meant, I can help you get set up and stuff. Not actually in the shower. Or with you. Or wash you. Or—” She bit her tongue. “The nurse helped you get dressed and your shirt has buttons, is all I’m saying.”

  This time his smile didn’t vanish in a heartbeat. “What man would turn down an offe
r like that?”

  Her cheeks burned as she marched into the white marble bathroom. She selected towels and placed them by the shower. A quick check told her everything he’d need was already stocked inside for him. With nothing left to do, she turned to see Jackson leaning against the vanity, watching her.

  “What do you need help with?” she asked, closing the distance between them.

  His lips curved in a lopsided smile. “Outside of this room? Literally everything. But for right now, I’m good. Go get settled in yourself.”

  “Right.”

  Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Take the reprieve and get out of here.

  Even if she had been looking forward to unwrapping her boss like a present.

  Shaking her head, she made a beeline for the door. She’d almost reached it, too, when she noticed Jackson struggling to undo the buttons of his shirt with only one hand.

  “I’m fine,” he said again, not even glancing her direction.

  “You’re not.”

  “Worse-case scenario, I’ll rip it off in my best Hulk impersonation.”

  “Or, I could just help you. For the good of Armani, of course.”

  With a sigh, he gave up and let his hands drop. Taking that as her cue, she crossed the room to him, trying to ignore the way her heart rate sped up with each step.

  Be his assistant. Keep this impersonal.

  The last thing she could afford to do was get even more tangled up with her boss.

  Rolling back her shoulders, she forced her fingers to unhook the first button at his throat.

  See? That wasn’t so bad.

  She could do this without giving it a second thought. Except the second button was harder than the first. The third had her cheeks warming again.

  You can do this. Be an adult.

  But now she had to be the adult who tugged the tucked in shirt free of his pants. When her fingers brushed the skin around his waistband electricity surged through her. Quickly she undid the remaining buttons and stepped back.

  The navy shirt hung gaping around his bronzed chest. Her mouth dried as she tried not to examine the contours of his muscles.

  Stop ogling him.

  As if she could.

  “Lori?”

  Her glanced snapped to his. “Sorry. What?”

  “I said, thanks for the help.”

  “Oh, right. No problem. You should be fine…” Her gaze zeroed in to his jeans. “Uh, there are a few buttons left.”

  He followed her gaze to his crotch and shrugged a shoulder. “I might not remember anything about the past, but even I know there are some things you don’t ask your assistant to do.”

  “What if the assistant offers?”

  His hooded gaze met hers.

  “I said I’d help you and I will.” Steeling herself, she moved back to him. Standing close enough to feel the heat of his skin, she reached for the button of his fly.

  You can do this. Don’t think about how easy it would be to press up against him. Concentrate.

  She unclasped the button of his fly and unzipped the zipper. There was no mistaking the bulge against her hand she did her best to ignore, even if her breath grew a little irregular. Task accomplished, she was about to step back when she glanced up instead. And found his gaze locked on her mouth.

  “Just colleagues, right?” His voice was little more than a soft whisper in her ear.

  “Right,” she agreed, her voice far harsher than his. “Yell if you need help.”

  Steeling herself, she walked from the room before the idiot living within her could offer to do something stupid like wash his back. Even if it was all she could think about.

  …

  Jackson didn’t move until the door clicked shut behind his assistant. Even then, he drew a deep breath, looking down at his undressed body with a wry twist of his lips.

  She’d just been helping. Nothing more. It had been a kind and generous offer, considering he was currently a hand down. It would have been a trick and a half to get his clothes off by himself.

  Still, it might have been a safer option.

  You can’t make a move on your assistant. She said you’ve been together for years. Clearly if something was going to happen, it would have.

  Had he made a move in the past? Did she shoot him down? They must have had some sort of prior relationship that went beyond the office. There was no way he’d have been able to work with a woman like her without considering the possibility.

  Or would I?

  Maybe he’d been a different person two days ago. Maybe he’d never even noticed Lori.

  You’re sure as hell noticing her now.

  His grip on the counter tightened. He’d held onto the marble since she entered the room, doing his best not to reach for her. It’d been hard when she’d unbuttoned his shirt, standing so close he could inhale the lavender of her shampoo. But he’d survived without too much strain. No, strain had come when she’d reached for his fly. When those innocent fingers had brushed against his cock and sent the blood rushing in the opposite direction from his brain.

  At least I know all the equipment still works.

  He just needed it to stop working so readily around Lori.

  I’m her boss. Not to mention I’m injured. Keep it in your pants.

  She was his one lifeline. She’d be his memory, whispering in his ear while he ran a company he knew nothing about. Without her, this plan of his brother’s collapsed. His injury would be exposed, and their company would fall.

  All because he’d been stupid enough to get hit by a car.

  How did it happen?

  He rubbed his forehead. A headache thrummed in the background of his mind. The doctors had told him the side effect could be lasting while he recovered. One more perk of being the damaged CEO that might take out a prosperous company with a single wrong move.

  You need Lori as your assistant more than as your lover. Focus on what matters.

  Right now, that meant a shower and some sleep. Who knew? Maybe he just needed rest for his memories to come back. Shrugging out of his shirt, he tossed it in the hamper in the corner and headed for the shower. Everything else would keep until he was clean. He’d just take life one step at a time for a while.

  Stepping into the spacious stall, he cranked up the cold water and did his best not to think about the only thing he wanted to.

  Lori.

  …

  She paced Jackson’s bedroom, torn.

  Should I leave? What if he calls out?

  She twisted her hands in her shirt, unsure of what to do. Walking by a mirror on the wall, she winced at her reflection. Blood still splattered her white shirt from when she’d rolled Jackson back at the parking garage. The sight of the red liquid dripping down his face had sent her into a panic unlike anything she’d ever faced before. The terror had stolen her breath until everything spun before her eyes. She’d been so sure she’d killed him.

  The world had started turning again the moment he breathed.

  That breath was my own personal miracle.

  And now she needed to start paying for it by being his perfect guide for the next few days. Which meant she needed to keep her personal feelings private. Jackson might not remember that he had no interest in her, but she certainly did. While the new version of her boss might be a tempting blank slate, he wouldn’t remain that way.

  When he remembers everything, I’ll be the last woman he’d ever want. Hell, I’ll be lucky to escape all this without him filing charges against me.

  Knowing the fate that awaited her, she’d be an idiot to fall into his arms.

  Which is why you should leave his bedroom.

  She plucked at her dirty shirt. This wasn’t her home. She didn’t have a change of clothes here. Tomorrow she’d have to head to her place and pack a bag for the foreseeable future, but tonight she was out of luck.

  She was still examining herself in the mirror when the bathroom door opened. Twirling, she saw Jackson exiting in a puff
of steam wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped precariously low on his hips.

  Her mouth went dry.

  He stopped when he saw her and arched a brow.

  “Sorry,” she blurted. “I thought I needed to be close in case you called out.”

  His lips quirked in a half-smile. “Going to help me dry off?”

  “I think you can manage that on your own.”

  His smile grew. “Probably.”

  “Clothes,” she said, changing the subject. “Let me get you something to wear.”

  “Sweats and a T-shirt if I have it,” he said.

  She practically sprinted to the walk-in closet, which would have been a decent escape, except he trailed after her.

  Walking through the room that was larger than her bathroom, she bypassed his impressive array of bespoke suits and found more casual wear at the back of the room.

  “What about these,” she said, grabbing charcoal sweat pants.

  Turning, she found him directly behind her.

  “That should work,” he agreed, taking the pants.

  His hair was wet and he hadn’t bothered to dry it. She couldn’t help watching the droplet that streaked down his neck to trail over his chest.

  Not until he snapped his fingers in front of her eyes.

  Her gaze jerked up. “Sorry,” she blurted.

  “I take it we don’t usually see each other half-dressed.”

  “Nope.”

  His eyes roamed over her before he stepped around her to flip through his hanging T-shirts. “Pity.”

  She blinked. Did he just say “pity” under his breath? Before she could puzzle it through, he tossed a T-shirt at her.

  “What’s this for?” she asked, catching it.

  He took her hand, turning it palm up to reveal the blood stains on her cuffs. “Mine?”

  “Yeah.”

  He nodded. “I figured you’d need something to wear until I can buy you a new one.”

  “You don’t need to do that.”

  “It’s my fault you got it ruined in the first place.”

  Her throat closed. “No, it really isn’t.”

  He shrugged. “You say I’m loaded. Let me spend some of that wealth on you.”

  “Does that seem appropriate to you?”

  A low chuckle escaped him. “I think appropriate is in the rearview mirror, don’t you?”