In Love With The Boss. Doreen Roberts
for a man like Jordan Trent to have to deal with such a come-down. No wonder he was so defensive and irritable. Sadie’s kind heart ached for the poor man. “You’ll feel much better when you’ve showered and shaved,” she said soothingly.
He looked as if he would like to strangle her. “Miss Milligan,” he said, speaking slowly and distinctly, “in case you haven’t noticed, there is no shower in this miserable excuse for a bathroom. Even if there were, I would not be able to use it with this lump of plaster on my foot.”
If his voice rose a fraction, Sadie chose to ignore it. Meeting his steely gaze without flinching, she said calmly, “You could use the tub if you drape your foot over the edge.”
“I could, if I were a contortionist, which I am not. Nor do I have any desire to learn how to be one. I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with my dishevelled, unwashed state for the time being.”
She gave her head a decisive shake. “I’m sorry, Mr. Trent, but I’m afraid I must insist. Not only will you feel better, it will help achieve a more professional atmosphere.”
His eyebrows arched. “I’m sorry that you find my appearance offensive. Maybe I’d better find someone less particular.”
In spite of her sympathy for his plight, Sadie was beginning to lose patience. She took a couple of steps toward him. “You know very well you’d have to wait another day to replace me. In the meantime, you’d lose valuable work time. Besides, I doubt very much if you’d find anyone else willing to take care of you like this. I’m breaking all the rules, you know.”
Jordan frowned. “If you must know, Miss Florence Nightingale, I know plenty of women who’d jump at the chance of taking care of me. Now please hand me my crutches. I’m tired and I want to go back to that uncomfortable lumpy couch and read the newspaper.”
Ignoring his wishful comment about the other women, she said evenly, “Not until you’ve bathed and shaved.”
“And just how am I supposed to accomplish that?”
“I’ll help you.”
A gleam appeared in the ice-blue eyes. “Well, that should prove interesting, to say the least.”
Feeling she’d stepped on shaky ground, Sadie lifted her chin. “I’ll fill the tub for you. If you sit on the edge and swing one foot in, you should be able to ease yourself down in there, leaving your injured foot hanging over the edge.”
For a long moment he held her gaze, while she wondered frantically what was going on in his mind, then he let out a long sigh. “All right, I can tell you’re not going to stop whining about it, so let’s get it over with. Though I warn you, if I get stuck in there, you’ll have to haul me out.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage beautifully.”
Jordan grunted. “You’ll find a large bath towel in the chest under the bed. Get it for me, will you?”
She waited pointedly until he muttered, “Please,” as an afterthought. Wondering if perhaps she hadn’t taken on more than she could handle, she went down on her knees and peered under the bed. When she stood again, the striped towel in her hand, Jordan had disappeared from the doorway.
For a moment she thought he might have managed to get back to the couch without his crutches, but when she looked in the bathroom she found him sitting on the toilet, his face white and drawn.
“Are you all right?” she asked anxiously.
“A little light-headed, that’s all.”
“I’ll cook you a meal just as soon as you get dressed,” she promised. “You’ll feel better when you’ve eaten something.”
He looked up at her, and she felt an odd tug at her heart. Right then he looked for all the world like a helpless, sulky little boy. “That’s if I manage to survive this torture,” he muttered.
She smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m quite sure you’ll be able to handle things just fine.”
He studied her in silence for a long moment, then said quietly, “Your family must miss you a great deal.”
Surprised by the comment, she shrugged. “I know I miss them, but I have to admit, it’s nice not to be constantly at their beck and call.”
“They don’t live here?”
“Lakeview. Still in Oregon, but not close enough to drop in on me every day.”
“Your husband must like that.”
“I don’t have a husband,” Sadie said, ignoring the little skip of her heart. She handed him the towel, then edged past his knees to turn on the faucets in the tub. Her mouth twitched when she envisioned Mrs. Simpson’s reaction if she walked in on them now.
She’d probably lose her job, Sadie thought as she tested the water gushing out of the tap. After adjusting the temperature to her satisfaction, she placed the stopper in the freshly cleaned drain, then straightened.
Unnerved to find Jordan Trent watching her with intense interest, she dried her hands on the hand towel. “There, that should do it.”
“Thank you, Miss Milligan.”
She frowned. “I’d rather you call me ‘Sadie’ if that’s all right with you?”
“I think I can manage that, if you’ll call me Jordan.”
She thought about that. “I guess that’s okay, though I don’t think Mrs. Simpson would approve.”
“Mrs. Simpson?”
“The battle-ax who owns the Helping Hands Agency. You know, Helping Hands. You must have talked to her when you called.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t call. That was Amber. She’s...er...the boss’s secretary.”
“Oh.” She wasn’t going to say so, but it seemed to her that if the boss could afford a secretary, he could at least pay his employee enough for him to find a decent place to live instead of this damp, rundown old boathouse. Obviously draftsmen didn’t earn as much as she’d thought they did.
“I didn’t see any soap in here,” she said, watching the water rise steadily up the sides of the tub.
“There’s some in the kitchen.”
“I’ll get it. Don’t move until I get back.”
“I have no intention of moving,” he said grimly.
Sadie hurried back to the kitchen, wondering what on earth she’d do if he couldn’t get himself out of the tub. She wasn’t feeling nearly as confident as she’d like him to believe.
In spite of his shabby surroundings, Jordan Trent still managed to present a formidable front. She couldn’t help wondering just what tragedy had reduced such a seemingly powerful man to living apparently on the edge of poverty.
Perhaps he was paying out alimony and child support to an ex-wife, and that was why he couldn’t afford a decent place to live.
Deciding that was it, since he obviously didn’t have a wife to take care of him, Sadie found the soap and headed back to the bathroom. Jordan sat where she left him, watching the water gushing into the tub.
Sadie dropped the soap into the water and turned off the faucets. “Now,” she said, beginning to feel more than a little awkward, “you should be able to manage the rest by yourself.”
He uttered a grunt of derision. “I’ll yell if I get stuck. Just remember this was all your brilliant idea.”
Praying that she wouldn’t have to help him out of the tub, Sadie scrambled out of the bathroom and left him to it.
She spent the next several minutes pacing back and forth in the tiny bedroom, listening to the sounds of splashing from the bathroom and tensed to leap in there at the slightest sound of distress.