Beguiling the Boss

Beguiling the Boss
Joan Hohl

Jennifer Dunning’s boss has made her an offer too good to refuse. Or is it? Jen knew Marshall Grainger’s reputation before she took the job. But nothing could prepare her for the explosive power of their attraction…nor for the sexy rancher’s proposal of a loveless marriage – especially when it’s not loveless for her!

“This is insane.”

“What’s insane about wanting a child?” Marsh stood, and came to lean against her side of the table. He was close—too close.

Jen had to raise her head to look at him. “Nothing,” she said. “It’s your way of going about it that’s strange.” Jen stared at him a moment, torn between wanting to shut him down—and wanting to go upstairs with him so she could have his mouth on hers again. Finally she asked, “Are you nuts?”

Rather than the anger she expected, Marsh treated her to his insides-melting laugh.

“I like you,” he said. “You’re as prickly as I am. I believe we could make a go of it.”

“Of what? A marriage of convenience?” Jen somehow managed to keep her voice calm.

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Whose?”

“What do you mean, whose?” He appeared perplexed.

“My convenience … or yours?”

Dear Reader,

Hi friends. It seems like forever since last I wrote to you. I’ve been on a sabbatical for some time (actually, I tell myself and everyone else who might ask, that I’m semi-retired). But it only works for a period of time before ideas for another story—or stories—begin knocking on my mind, demanding my attention.

The book you are holding in your hand is the first to tickle my interest. It began innocently enough with a title … Beguiling the Boss. Big deal, I mocked. I should have known better. Before too long I had characters vying for attention. Hmm, I mused … maybe. I started writing and, as always, ever since the first book I wrote, the characters led the way, telling me their story as I soon, and again as always, followed along. As I’m a hunt-and-pick typist, many times I simply could not keep up. Then, piqued, I would walk away until they—the hero or heroine—allowed me breathing room by slowing up a bit.

But all things considered, I supposed the characters must be right, because you, dear readers, appear to like the tales they tell me. I hope you will enjoy this particular story, as these two characters are both strong-willed and independent. Matter of fact, I found them to be rather beguiling.

Yeah, I know, I’m shameless, but the idea here is to catch your attention so you’ll buy the book!

Thank you for all the years we’ve spent together through the pages of my books.

Yours always,

Joan Hohl

About the Author

JOAN HOHL is a bestselling author of more than sixty books. She has received numerous awards for her work, including a Romance Writers of America Golden Medallion award. In addition to contemporary romance, this prolific author also writes historical and time-travel romances. Joan lives in eastern Pennsylvania with her husband, Marv, and their family consisting of: two daughters, Lori and Amy, two grandchildren, Erica and Cammeron, and three great-grandsons, Jaden, Kieran and Sorin.

Beguiling the Boss

Joan Hohl

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

To my own “Gang” … six writers from various parts of the country, all of us different in interests and politics, yet close no matter the distance in miles … because we love one another and we are all a little wacky! We stay connected by email and refer to each other as the gang.

They are as follows:

Kasey Michaels. Leslie Lafoy. Mary McBride.

Karen Katz and myself.

Yes, I know, that is only five.

Marcia Evanick was number six.

Marcie, as we called her, was warm and kind and compassionate. At our occasional meetings, when she smiled or laughed, we had to smile and laugh with her.

Last July, after a valiant, courageous fight, our beloved Marcie lost the battle of her life to ALS.

May she rest in peace.

I will miss you forever, Marce.

Joan

One

Jennifer Dunning had always been indulged and she knew it. How could she not? From the day of her birth she had been pampered and cooed over, not only by her parents but by anyone and everyone who saw her. And yet, as far as she could recall, she had never acted out or thrown temper tantrums when she didn’t get her way. She accepted a “no” as final and quietly moved on.

But now she sat on her bed in her room, where she had been hiding for the better part of the past two weeks, searching desperately on her electric-blue laptop for her new life. It was time to leave her parents’ home in the exclusive gated community on the outskirts of Dallas. It was time to leave her parents, period.

Jennifer was stunningly beautiful—she had been as a baby, and was even more so at the age of twenty-eight. Tall and willowy with curves in all the right places, she was blessed with long honey-blond hair, dark brown eyes and classic features.

Jennifer was also restless, frustrated and edgy. She had quit her high-paying job as a personal assistant to the CEO of a large company two weeks ago. She was simply sick and tired of listening to the endless daily pep rallies given by her boss—the son of the company owner—who Jennifer considered unfit for the position he held. She was also tired of him eyeing her up and down every time they happened to be in the same room. He was a creep. So, deciding she had had enough, she had resigned.

Jennifer didn’t actually need to work. Her parents were wealthy and she was their only child. She also had a large trust fund from her departed fraternal grandmother, and a smaller one from her maternal grandfather, who was still alive. But she liked working. She was intelligent, had a bachelor’s degree in science and an MBA, and she enjoyed keeping busy, doing something useful. As a personal assistant, she’d been on her way up the career ladder.

Besides, working was much more interesting than the Dallas social scene. She found the scene boring, as well as pointless. As a youngster she had enjoyed the dancing lessons her mother insisted upon, and she also loved riding, after getting over the initial fear of her horse, which was huge compared to her six-year-old frame. No small ponies for her daughter, her mother had declared. Jennifer would attain her seat while on the back of a full-size Thoroughbred. And she had. Her seat was as elegant by the time she was eleven as that of any expert equestrian.

It was later, as she grew into her late teens, that Jennifer had become tired of the social scene. Lunch with the girls every Wednesday, listening to gossip she couldn’t care less about—it had all started to feel so frivolous, and Jennifer had big plans for herself. She’d been preparing to go east, to the University of Pennsylvania and the Wharton School of Business. Her friends all had plans to attend the same college right there in Texas. In short, they were parting ways. But Jennifer decided she’d bear the lunches and the silly talk, as she thought of it, until the end of summer. Then she’d be on her own.

In contrast, her parents had been immersed in the social whirl all her life, unfortunately. It wasn’t that they were uncaring—Jennifer knew her parents loved her. It was simply that they weren’t there all that much. As a kid, she spent most of her free time with the housekeeper, Ida, who taught her how to clean, or with the cook, Tony, who practically made her a professional chef. As it turned out, Jennifer loved doing hard, honest work with her hands. It filled her with a purpose she hadn’t known she’d needed.

After Jennifer finished school, she came back to Dallas and lived in her own apartment with a private entrance in her parents’ house. She could have invited anyone she wanted to her place, but she had never had a man stay over. Not that her parents would have minded or objected. She was an adult, after all. It was just that none of the men she knew affected her that way.

Maybe because of what had happened during her junior year of high school.

She had never told her parents—or anyone else—about being caught alone on campus by a boy. She’d been leaving school later than most of the students following a meeting with her math teacher. It was January and almost dark, and she was distracted by thoughts of her conversation with the teacher. She wasn’t fully alert while weaving through the rows of vehicles in the parking lot as she headed for her car.

The boy was a senior—a clean-cut, all-American star football player. Most of Jennifer’s friends had crushes on him. Jennifer didn’t, thinking him too cocky and into himself. Perhaps that was the reason he had accosted her that afternoon.

Trapping her between two parked cars, he fumbled with his pants zipper, exposing himself to her. At first, she was too shocked to think. But she came to her senses when he shoved his other hand up her skirt, attempting to yank her panties off.