Why had she kissed him back?
He plowed a hand through his hair and turned toward the window. He hadn’t slept worth a damn since that night because he couldn’t help wondering what she had been doing during those two hours after she’d left the restaurant with Doug Lewis. He’d worried about her driving on his twisty road after drinking champagne.
But mostly he’d wondered if she’d been in Lewis’s bed.
And why did the idea of her naked and sweaty with Lewis make his gut burn? Must be because of the possible betrayal of Hudson secrets. If she’d shared the Honor script details, what else would she share?
The air inside the office suddenly seemed stuffy. He had to get out of this room. “I’m going for a swim.”
Dana blinked, her long lashes briefly concealing the confusion in her eyes. “Okay, I’ll cover the phones.”
“No, you’ll join me. We’ll both be more alert after a break.” And maybe the chlorine in the pool would kill her scent.
“But—”
“It’s Saturday, Dana. No one important is going to call. Put on your suit. I’ll meet you outside.”
He left before she could argue and jogged upstairs to his room. Changing into swim trunks took only seconds and then he was outside on his private deck sucking up the fresh air and letting the sun bake his skin. Neither did anything to cure the restlessness riding him.
What was his problem?
He descended the circular stair to the flagstone patio. The blue pool water glistened, but a swim wasn’t really what he needed. It was just a way to physically exhaust himself so that he could concentrate.
The door from the guest room to the patio opened, and Dana strolled out wearing a black bikini. He nearly choked on his tongue. She was toned where it counted, but soft where she needed to be. Honey-golden skin wrapped her curves in a mouth-watering package. Hunger hit him like a fist in the gut. How had he missed that she had a fantasy-worthy body?
He shook himself, trying to break the spell. This was Dana, the woman who’d been right under his nose, his right hand, for the past five years.
A woman who’d stood by him through some tough times.
A woman who might have betrayed him.
An idea infiltrated his brain like smoke slipping under a door. What better way to end the pillow talk between Dana and Lewis than by keeping her out of the other man’s bed?
And the best way to do that was for Max to keep her so busy in his bed that she wouldn’t have the time or energy to think about her ex-lover.
The idea sent a rush of heat through him, but his conscience countered with a warning prickle up the back of his neck. Sleeping with an employee was never a good idea. He’d learned that lesson the hard way. But he wasn’t going to marry Dana. She’d already stated her intention of leaving Hudson as soon as possible—if she won the bet. The complication would be a problem only if she stayed on as his E.A.
Deliberately seducing her for personal gain wasn’t the decent thing to do, but it would serve dual purposes. One, having her would satisfy his curiosity so that he could quit obsessing about her and get the damned film completed on time. She’d been interfering with his concentration since she’d moved into his house. Two, by getting closer to Dana he could find out exactly what she’d shared with Lewis and what Lewis had told her about Willow’s upcoming flick.
He walked toward her and saw the exact moment she figured out something was amiss. She froze. Her lashes fluttered and her lips parted—her soft, delicious lips. He couldn’t wait for another taste. God knows, the last two kisses had only whetted his appetite.
“Max?”
As he drew nearer he let his gaze devour the sleek curtain of her long, dark hair and the round curve of her breasts swelling above the black triangles of her top. Nice. Probably real. Real wasn’t something you saw too often in Hollywood. Her chest rose and fell as if she were drawing quick, shallow breaths.
A glint of gold caught his eye, drawing his attention down her midline to just above her modest-by-Holly-wood-standards bikini bottom. A tiny piece of jewelry glimmered in her navel. Closer inspection revealed a heart dangling over the dimple of her belly button, its swing agitated by the fine tremor of her body.
Dana, his conservative assistant, had a navel ring?
He searched her face. Who was this woman who had completely hidden her true personality from him for so long? She stared back at him, eyes wide, pupils expanded, but not with fear or rejection. He saw hunger, a hunger almost as great as his own in her dark brown eyes.
If she’d given him one back-off signal, he’d respect it. The last thing he needed was an employee crying foul. But she gave no such signals. Instead she licked her lips and tilted her head to the side, sending a cascade of thick dark hair across her shoulder to semi-conceal one breast and shoulder. “I—I thought we were going to swim.”
Her whisper swept over his skin like a caress, leaving goose bumps behind. Goose bumps? When had he last experienced those? And she hadn’t even touched him yet. “Later.”
He reached for her. She met him halfway, their bodies colliding with a gentle slap. The fusion of her smooth, hot, golden skin to his forced the air from his lungs. He paused to catch his breath, to wrestle for some measure of control, to remember why he was doing this.
She might have betrayed him.
She might be planning to betray him further.
But the knowledge didn’t kill his appetite. He wanted her kiss so badly he deliberately denied himself the pleasure, grasped her upper arms and backed her toward the house. Anticipation made his mouth water.
Their bare legs brushed against each other, their bellies sliding with each step. Her breasts nudged his chest, her nipples tightened and prodded him, and her quickening exhalations puffed against his chin. Desire pooled in his groin and his muscles clenched. He could feel himself hardening against her. If she had any doubts where this was headed before, she couldn’t possibly now.
He paused on the sun-warmed flagstones outside her room, giving rational thought one last chance to derail him from this irreversible course of action, giving her one more chance to object to crossing the boss-employee line.
“Dana, if we go through that door, I am going to be inside you.”
She took a quick breath. Her hands cupped his shoulders and for a moment he thought she’d push him away. But then she looked at him through her lashes with those passion-darkened eyes and coasted her palms down his biceps and back up to his neck. With agonizing slowness, she scraped her short nails lightly down his arms, over the insides of his wrists, across his palms, before the tips of her fingers hooked his. Sauntering backward with a hip rolling gait, she tugged him toward her room, making it clear she wanted this as much as he did.
Dana wanted him.
The knowledge rocked him, shocked him. When and how had that happened? Before she’d returned his kiss, he couldn’t remember her ever giving him those kinds of signals. In fact, if anything, she’d mothered him, pampered him. Spoiled him, he admitted.
He reached past her to slide open the door. Cooled air rushed out of the house and over his skin, but did nothing to cool his desire. Once they’d crossed the threshold—literally, figuratively—there would be no going back. His feet sank into the carpet. He closed the door behind him, sealing them into the silent house.
The room smelled like her, looked like her. The other her. This woman he didn’t know. She’d added candles and framed photographs of her family and potted plants to the room.
Who was this other woman? he asked himself not for the first time.
He caught her face in his hands and stroked her smooth skin and then threaded his fingers through her thick, silky hair. Her head