Head Over Heels for the Boss (Donovan Brothers) (7 page)

Finn and Ellie rose. Bob and his mom rose. Even cantankerous Cade rose and offered his hand to his beautiful wife.

Devon glanced at Isabelle, and she smiled shyly. His heart thumped once, but he told it to stop. With everyone pairing off on the dance floor, it became painfully obvious that someone had set him up.

I
sabelle knew the second he’d caught on. His demeanor changed. At first when she’d walked over, he’d appeared to be shocked. Then sort of dumbfounded by the gorgeous dress Ellie had let her borrow. Now everybody had gone out to dance, but he hadn’t offered to dance with her.

She sucked in a breath. As Barbara Beth said, she had to be bold.

“You wouldn’t like to dance, would you?”

He shook his head. “Izzy—” He sighed heavily. “Belle,” he said, correcting himself.

She remembered the cute little look her mother always used with her dad and said, “Please?”

He sighed again.

Sighed? Again? For the love of God, she was not an ogre. He should be thrilled to dance with her. She was a smart, funny woman who’d gotten a makeover to get him to notice her. And he had noticed her. He absolutely liked what he saw.

The hell with cute little looks and feminine sighs! “Oh, come on, Devon. Everybody’s dancing but us. We look like two losers.” Knowing she might have gone too far in the other direction, she smiled prettily. “What can it hurt?”

He looked away. “We’re not losers.”

“Then we should be dancing.”

With another sigh, he rose and held out his hand. She took it, her heart thrumming in her chest, her knees weak with anticipation. He might be doing this grudgingly, but if he had even one ounce of feeling for her, dancing would melt him. That is if it didn’t melt her first.

But as they walked to the dance floor, the original slow song ended. Isabelle almost groaned. Then she saw Barbara Beth standing with the DJ. A confident smile lit BB’s pretty face, and she gave Isabelle the thumbs-up sign.

Another slow song began to play. Devon turned to her and, in one smooth move, took her into his arms.

All the air disappeared from her lungs. For years she’d dreamed of this moment, this man. And now here she was dancing with him.

Of course, they stood at a safe distance.

And his eyes weren’t on her. He looked out at the other couples. When he homed in on his mom and Bob, his eyes narrowed.

In her head, she tried to run down her list of “What Would Barbara Beth Do?” notes. Smile. Engage in conversation. Hold his gaze when he talked. Make him feel important. Make him feel like this whole thing was his idea.

Nothing about when they were dancing.

And technically she’d already blown the “make him feel the whole thing was his idea” instruction when she’d asked him to dance.

He whirled them around, and she used the opportunity to shift a bit closer. His jacket ran across the skin of her arm as she moved those few sacred inches, raising gooseflesh. But once she had herself settled, she realized she might have gotten a tad too close. Her breasts brushed against his chest. Their thighs bumped.

Oh, dear God. Mistake or not,
this
was what she wanted.

D
evon’s breath jerked to a halt when Isabelle took a step closer and her breasts pressed against his chest. Her flirtations, her wanting to dance, her sweet smiles all flashed through his head. There was no denying it. She was making a move on him.

And he liked it.

He was going to have to stop her, but he liked it. He liked it a lot. He liked the way she felt in his arms and the tingle that rose when their thighs swished across each other with every step. He liked that her eyes were a shiny, sexy green that held his captive. He wanted to twirl her around, just to pull her close again and feel that bump when her breasts hit his chest, when their torsos met—

Oh, no. What was this? Where was his head? Well, actually he knew exactly where his head was and most of the blood that should be coursing through his veins and arteries. They had all gone to one spot, a spot that was encouraging him to explore what seemed to be happening between them—

Except she was his employee.

And he was something of a dog when it came to women. Which was why he only got involved with women who were looking for a good time in bed. A night, a weekend, even a week of sex—then nothing. Because he didn’t do commitments. Seeing how love had kept his mother a prisoner in a very bad marriage, he didn’t even want to risk getting close to someone. All of the women he dated knew he liked a good time, but he didn’t want anything serious.

Of course, what did he know about this brand new Isabelle? Maybe she didn’t want a commitment either? If she only wanted a night or a weekend, too, wouldn’t he be a fool to turn her down? And wouldn’t it be great if she did? They could have a blistering affair and no one had to be any the wiser.

“This is nice.”

Isabelle’s whisper floated up to him. He glanced down into her smiling face, the pretty green eyes, her pert pink lips. The desire to kiss her was so strong his head actually began to lower, but he stopped himself. He absolutely, positively could not lead her on. They both had to be on the same page.

“Are you looking for an affair?”

“What?”

The very fact that she said ‘what’—not even taking into consideration her confused tone of voice—told him the answer. This
sexual
thing he felt was something bigger and more important to her.

And he was going to have to kill it.

He stepped away from her, turned, and headed for the back door, still holding her hand. He led her through crowds of men drinking, women laughing, kids weaving through the adults. He walked her past the men on the sidewalk holding plastic cups of beer, past the lovers chatting or kissing in dark corners, the whole way to the darkest part of the area behind the fire hall.

Then he stopped.

“If you’re flirting with me because you think there can be something between us, you need to stop now.”

“What?”

“You seemed to be taking that dance in a whole different way than what I meant.”

She turned away. “Because you don’t like me.”

His eyes widened. “Is that what you think?”

“Why else would you tell me to back off?”

“Because I
am
attracted to you.”

She faced him again. “You’re not making any sense.”

“Isabelle, you’re gorgeous. And in that dress, you stop men’s hearts. I sighed with relief when I saw the entire ambulance crew is here. There are some old men who are probably going to need CPR if you fast dance.”

She laughed and looked down at her hands.

He took her chin and lifted her face until their gazes met. “My God, woman. You’re perfect. But we work together.”

“Piper and Cade worked together.”

“That was totally different. They were equals. They both owned half of O’Riley’s Market. We’re not partners; you work for me. If I were to make a pass at you, even if you welcomed it, we’d set ourselves up for a sexual harassment suit.”

“You think I’d
sue
you?”

“I don’t know. But I’m a lawyer, trained to consider even the appearance of impropriety.”

“Even the appearance of impropriety? Don’t you think that’s taking things a bit too far?”

“You know how this town is. Give them a gossip inch and they’ll take a mile. They’ll say I’m taking advantage of you because you work for me and depend on me for your livelihood.”

“They don’t think I’m smart enough to say no, if I want to?”

He gaped at her. “Why would they, when a scandal is more fun?”

She frowned.

“My family has been through enough of the gossip mill already. My dad was a miserable son of a bitch. But because we’d never talked about him hitting my mom or me and my brothers, when the news finally broke, no one believed us. Everybody thought we were out to ruin him to pave the way for my mom’s divorce. Even after he punched Finn in the park across from McDermott’s, people still took his side.”

“It was awful.”

“Yeah, it was.” He sucked in a breath. “It was especially hard on my mom.”

“It’s nice she found someone.”

Devon shook his head. “Right.”

“You don’t like Bob?”

“Let’s just say my mother was alone for decades. Then she inherits a share of a billion dollars, and suddenly she’s got a man hanging all over her.”

“Bob’s not like that.”

“Everybody’s like that when it comes to money.”

“I’m not.”

He sniffed a laugh. Mary Louise Stevens would probably deny it, too. Still, he didn’t push Isabelle.

“Seriously, Devon, I think it’s kind of clear we’re interested in each other.”

He shook his head. “But not in the same way. I don’t date; I have affairs. Is that what you want?”

“No.”

And that was all the answer he needed.

Because the side of the fire hall was only a few yards away from the parking lot, he turned in the direction of his SUV. “I’ll see you on Monday. Can you get yourself back inside okay?”

“That’s a silly question to ask a grown woman who’s been getting herself places for years.”

“I was just trying to be polite.”

She smiled that smile that did crazy things to his insides, and he wished he could change his mind, take her back into the fire hall, and dance. Kiss her senseless.

The moment stretched out between them. His gaze flicked to her pink lips made soft and sweet looking by some shiny, glossy stuff women used to entice men. In this case, right now, it was really working. Because his chest hurt with the need to kiss her.

When she said, “What will I tell your family?” he almost laughed. Which was another really cool thing about her. She could make him laugh.

But he was her boss. And he wouldn’t set his family up for new gossip or threaten their inheritance with a sexual harassment suit, and he most certainly wouldn’t hurt a woman who was sweet and nice and deserved better.

“Tell them that I’m tired.”

And suddenly he was tired. Very tired. As the oldest Donovan brother, he’d always had to do the right thing. He’d protected his mother and his brothers. Now he was protecting their peace and quiet. Yet, he didn’t get a share of any of the good things they enjoyed.

Chapter Six

I
sabelle went back into the wedding and found Barbara Beth. She didn’t make her friend ask. She simply said, “We failed. Mission is over. Is the bar making cosmos?”

“What do you mean we failed?”

“He took me outside to tell me there could be nothing between us.”

Barbara Beth’s face fell. “He all but salivated over you while you were dancing.”

“I know. I think that’s why he told me to back off.”

BB shook her head. “Now we both need a drink.”

The bar didn’t serve cosmos. In fact, Jimmy Johnson looked at her as if she’d grown a second head when she asked for one. Barbara Beth ordered a vodka and cranberry juice for both of them. But when she handed the little plastic cup to Isabelle, Isabelle took a quick breath.

“You know what? I don’t want that. I’m going home. I gave it my best shot. Devon doesn’t want to get involved. He has good reason,” she said, her chest tightening, her whole body suddenly weary. “But I think I need a few hours at home, alone, to have it all sink in so I can be a normal person at work with him on Monday.”

“Sure, sweetie,” Barbara Beth said sympathetically. “But I think you’re wrong about giving up. Look at tonight like the first round of a fourteen-round boxing match. So you didn’t have a KO tonight? Monday’s another day.”

“No. Monday things go back to normal.”

Whatever normal was between a woman who’d never worked for anybody but her dad and a guy so business-oriented he didn’t even want to risk the
appearance
of impropriety.

At home, Isabelle slipped out of the shiny pink tank dress, washed the makeup off her face, took the flower out of her hair, and crawled into bed.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t actually “love” Devon. She was only now getting to know him. If she looked at Barbara Beth’s plan for her, technically she had just been going after something she wanted. It was like when she tried to get into her MBA program. She hadn’t been accepted the first time, so she’d tried again.

She sat up in bed. Was she telling herself she shouldn’t give up?

Was Barbara Beth right? Had tonight just been round one of a game that could last as many as fourteen rounds?

She woke Sunday morning confused, but before she could start thinking about Devon, her phone rang. Seeing her mom’s face pop on the screen, she answered quickly. “Hey, Mom!”

“Hey, honey. How’s it going?”

She wanted to admit to her mom that everything was confusing, that she missed her. She missed her dad. She wasn’t sure she was cut out to work for someone else. She’d made a fool of herself with Devon. But it all seemed too embarrassing to admit.

So she said, “It’s great.”

“Really? That’s good because your dad and I are miserable.”

Isabelle laughed. “You’re miserable?”

“We miss you. You’re our only child. In some ways you’re sort of our whole world. It’s weird to think we’re hardly going to see each other.”

Isabelle’s heart tweaked a bit. But, once again, in fairness to her overworked mom who deserved a decent retirement, she said, “Mom, it’s been five days. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t done this before. We were apart for most of my four years of college.”

“I know. But we always knew you were coming back and we were going to run the business together. Now, your dad and I are here and you’re there. And I feel like we broke up The Beatles.”

She laughed at the antiquated reference. “You realize that means you’re calling the Donovans Yoko Ono.”

“Sort of.”

She laughed again. “You’ll be fine, Mom. You’ll adjust.”

“Oh, we’re going to love it here. It’s being without you that we didn’t think through.”

She swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. She had felt a tad abandoned over the past five days. “We’ll all be fine.”

Her mom sniffed. “I know.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too.” She sucked in a breath. “It’s my golf shot. I’ve gotta go.”

Isabelle disconnected the call feeling better. Her whole world hadn’t been turned upside down. Her parents hadn’t abandoned her. In their haste to get to paradise, her parents might have forgotten some things, but it had only taken a few days for them to realize they missed her. And she was allowed to admit she missed them. At least one corner of her life had righted.

She made herself breakfast, read the local Sunday paper to see who got engaged, who got married, and who had a baby, and did some laundry. Calmed by her mom’s call, she thought about what had happened the night before and two facts stood out. First, Devon didn’t have to worry about a sexual harassment suit. She would not sue him. Period. Second, as for gossip? Piper and Cade had set the bar so high with Piper being the town’s runaway bride and Cade being the no-show groom that Isabelle sincerely doubted she and Devon could make even a ripple of the wave Cade and Piper had created in the gossip pool.

Having negated all of Devon’s reasons for not wanting to have anything to do with her, on Monday morning Isabelle was ready for round two. So Devon hadn’t wanted her on Saturday night? Maybe he just needed some time to get used to the idea that she was interested. And hopefully, as more than a lover. At this point she wouldn’t force him to say he’d marry her, but that was what dating was for. To see if they were suited.

She dressed in a short, flirty skirt Barbara Beth had lent to her. Black-and-white flowered and made of a loose, flowing material that swung when she walked, the thing was perfect with a little white tank top. Since her pink flower from Saturday night was still healthy, she fixed her hair the way Barbara Beth had, putting the flower above her ear. Then she scooped up her favorite necklace, silver with big shiny black beads, and put that on, too.

After sliding into black sandals with three-inch heels, she peered at herself in the mirror and smiled. She really did have a “look.” It had just taken a haircut, some makeup, and some great clothes to pull it out of her. In fact, when she got home that night, she was going to shop online for more clothes like these. Great clothes of her own. So she could give back the things she’d borrowed from Ellie, Piper, and Barbara Beth.

She clattered down the stairs of her apartment above Buzz Hanwell’s garage, the one she’d rented after Piper moved out when she married Cade, and headed for her Hyundai.

Her stomach growled when she got to the intersection where she had to make the choice of turning right to go to the Donovan house or turning left toward the diner and breakfast—or, at least, coffee.

Hunger won. She turned left, parked her car and walked into the diner.

Pauly Montgomery whistled. “Wow, Izzy. What’s up with the skirt?”

“It’s Barbara Beth’s,” she said, refusing to look at the goofy old man who hit on every woman he saw, if only because she knew he was harmless.

“Well, it looks nice on you.”

She sucked in a breath, praying the waitress would arrive.

Seventy-year-old Katie Foster, a fixture at the diner since her teen years, walked out of the kitchen and over to the counter. “Hey, Izzy. You look great!”

“Thanks. Could I get a cup of coffee to go?” Her stomach growled. “And one of those blueberry cake donuts?”

“Sure thing.”

As Katie poured coffee into a takeout cup, Isabelle strolled away from the counter. Trying not to be obvious about getting away from Pauly, she studied the pictures on the wall.

“Well, well, it looks like our little Izzy is all grown up,” Charlene Simmons said to Alice Lenosky, who sat across from her.

Oh, crap. Should she pretend not to have heard that? She had to. Ever since the truth came out about Charlene’s grandson
not
being Cade Donovan’s son, even though Lonnie Simmons had claimed he was for twelve years, Charlene had been the village idiot about gossip. It was as if she was trying to make her daughter look better by making others look bad.

Blue-haired Alice Lenosky leaned forward across the booth. “You know she’s working for the Donovans now.”

“No!”

“Her parents sold their flower shop to Devon.”

Charlene shook her head. “I heard
that
. That’s not news.”

“Yeah, well, look at her. All hussied up. Her parents knew what they were doing.”

Isabelle’s brow furrowed, as Charlene’s face scrunched in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“When her parents sold the shop, they put a condition in that Izzy wouldn’t have to run it.”

Confused, Isabelle drew in a breath. That sounded as if her dad had asked that she be fired. Which made absolutely no sense.

Charlene said, “So?”

“So… Do you think she didn’t learn from Piper O’Riley? Her dad stipulated in the sales agreement that Isabelle was to get a good job in the Donovans’ new corporation. Which means she’s working directly with Devon, Mr. Handsome Rich and Single. Do you think she doesn’t have her sights set on him?”

Charlene said, “What?” at the same time that Isabelle turned and said, “What?”

“Oh, come on, Izzy!” Alice said, her lips puckering like an old prune. “Look at you. Who goes to work dressed like that?”

Isabelle glanced down at her pretty skirt, her simple tank top, her beloved black beads. “Barbara Beth? It’s her skirt. Besides, who are you to talk? And what about your gossip partner? Who in their right mind believes blue is a natural color for hair?”

Katie walked over with her donut and coffee. “Everybody calm down. Now that Izzy’s out of the flower shop, of course she’s wearing prettier clothes. Clothes a girl can’t wear when making flower arrangements all day.” She smiled at Isabelle. “That’ll be three-fifty.”

Isabelle turned to the counter, set her coffee and donut down, and pulled out her wallet. As she handed Katie a five dollar bill, she said, “Keep the change. I appreciate the bail out.”

Katie leaned forward conspiratorially. “Oh, sweetie, I just said that because Alice is an old bag. You go after Devon. The man is fine. I don’t blame you for changing your look for a shot at that. When the pool about you two gets going at Petie’s Pub, I’m putting my money on you.”

Isabelle opened her mouth to say, “It’s not like that,” but she snapped it shut.
It
was exactly what everybody thought. She was dressing up in the hope that he’d notice her. Except she didn’t want his money, as other women might. She wanted
him.

“There’s a pool?”

“Well, I haven’t been to Petie’s since the wedding on Saturday. But I’ll bet when I get there tonight, there’ll be a pool about whether or not you two will become an item. Everybody saw that skimpy pink dress you had on…and the way you two were dancing.” She sighed dreamily. “Makes me wish I were forty years younger.”

Isabelle left the diner dumbstruck. True, small towns were gossip pits. Not because people were mean, more because they were bored. And she’d set herself up to be the very center of this mess. But nobody even considered that Devon had looked at her résumé and offered her a good job because she had an MBA. Nobody considered that she’d been working at Buds and Blossoms since she was eight, and running it for the past four years. Nobody even pondered the possibility that she might make an excellent employee for Donovan, Inc. They all jumped to the conclusion that she was a gold digger.

Devon had been right. Getting involved would invite the wrong kind of attention on them. They shouldn’t do it.

Except not to save his family’s reputation. To save
hers
. In one short dance, her reputation had gone to hell.

She ate her donut and drank her coffee on the drive to the Donovan house, understanding dawning on her why Devon had built his house so far out of town. His family might not be the focus of Harmony Hills gossip this time, but for three long years their names had been on everybody’s lips, every day, about something. No wonder he wanted peace.

She got out of her car and walked around the side of the huge house to the back door where she let herself in.

“Is that you, Isabelle?”

Devon
.

And he’d called her Isabelle. He didn’t automatically say Izzy or fumble over Belle. He’d called her Isabelle. Her real name. Nobody ever called her by her real name.

Twenty minutes ago, she might have swooned. But now, all sorts of distracting things ran through her head. She had an MBA, yet Charlene and Alice thought her parents had to finagle her a job? And not even so she could work…but to catch a man?

The whole thing wasn’t merely preposterous; it was demeaning.

Insulting.

Infuriating
.

Devon walked into her office. “Are we okay?”

She turned just in time to see his gaze skim her hot little tank top, favorite beads, and flared skirt.

“Don’t,” she warned.

His brow furrowed. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t look at me like that.” She sucked in a breath. She’d
wanted
him to look at her like that. But now it felt awkward, wrong. “I’m going to go ask your mother for a sweater.”

She turned to race out of the room, but he grabbed her wrist. “Whoa,
wait
. What are you accusing me of?”

“I’m not accusing you of anything. I’m saying we might have already given ‘the appearance of impropriety,’ and this situation sets us up for some really ugly gossip.”

“I told you that on Saturday night.”

“Yeah, well, this morning I got the full taste. Did you know Alice Lenosky thinks my parents arranged for me to work for you so I could snag you?”

He laughed.

“It’s not funny!”

“I know. But the look on your face is priceless.”

“Great.”

“Come on now,” he said, putting his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve weathered worse storms.”

She shook her head. “No. You might have. But I haven’t. I’m the girl who studied hard and got her MBA, who is now being accused of only wanting a job so I could catch a man!” She shrugged out from beneath his hand. “I’m smart, damn it. And educated. I don’t need a man to prove my worth.”

Devon said nothing. She straightened her shoulders. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going for that sweater and then I have prospectuses to read.”