The Boss's New Plaything

by Layla Valentine

  A collective sigh of relief seems to wash over the group, and Carson rises and leaves the room before anyone else. Slipping away to his office, presumably. I still feel shaken by the sensation of his eyes upon me, but I try to take my mind off of it. Jack watches me with a vaguely contemptuous air as we trek back towards the marketing department.

  “You lucked out, kid,” he says dryly.

  I nod my head quietly, resolving to keep my head down for the rest of the day. Even if I’d impressed Mr. Sharpe, I’d hate to get on the bad side of my direct supervisor.

  Unfortunately for me, getting the image of those bewitching icy blue eyes out of my head is a fruitless task. I just know they’ll haunt me for the rest of the day.

  Chapter Two

  Carson

  The new intern caught my eye the moment she walked into the room. Now, as I sit in my office, I simply can’t get my mind off of her. Those brown doe eyes framed by pale blond hair would be enough to bring lesser men to their knees, I’m sure. I like to think that my personal fortitude goes beyond that of a normal man, but even my heart is pounding while my mind wanders to places better left unsaid.

  It’s entirely unprofessional, but as I sit alone, I can do little more than weave intricate fantasies about the young woman and myself.

  Aimee Rhodes, a name that I can taste the most saccharine sweetness within. I know her lips would be equally delectable on mine. I lean back in my chair, propping my feet up on my desk. I would love nothing more than to have her on this desk, doing things considered unspeakable between employer and employee. With the look she had given me—those warm eyes capturing me from the first moment—I can’t deny the feeling that she has perhaps been entertaining equally salacious thoughts.

  Many would think it strange, a young woman like Miss Rhodes entertaining fantasies about a man in his forties. I don’t like to think of myself as a vain man, but my physique could belong to a man half my age. I treat my body like the temple it very well is, honing it with hours spent in the gym.

  This might sound exorbitant, but I’m a man of specific tastes. I hold myself to a standard that others could never hope to reach, and what time I do not devote to my personal health is bequeathed on the success of my empire. There isn’t an aspiring CEO worldwide who hasn’t heard of SharpeFocus. It’s my pride and joy, but there are some things that a strong business ethic simply can’t provide.

  Loneliness has never been an issue for me. Women come and go, although in the past, I considered them entirely disposable. I was married for a short time in my twenties, but apparently she’d felt neglected in the face of my “relentless” work schedule. The marriage lasted less than a year, but I feel no regrets regarding the turn that the relationship took.

  Just a year after the divorce, I signed the contract that would take SharpeFocus into the major leagues. Now, business professionals from across the planet seek my services. A plan with Russia is in the works, one that will bring my company to peaks even I thought were out of reach. Everything on the business end is as spectacular as one could hope.

  That being said, an empire means very little without a queen to stand by my side. This isn’t the first time I’ve considered pursuing a love interest of sorts, but it’s never been serious. I’m known to my inner circle as something of a womanizer. Now, however, I want something more.

  Though it seems sudden, I know what I want. Even if she isn’t the one intended at my side, I have to have her, for a time, at least. I tell my secretary to call Jack and tell him to report to my office immediately, insisting that he bring Miss Rhodes as well. While waiting for them, I sit upright in my chair to focus properly. While fantasies are well enough while I am alone in my office, I don’t want to seem distracted when my employees step through the door.

  As unprofessional as my thoughts may be, I want to keep my desires under the surface. At least, for now.

  I pretend to immerse myself with something on my computer, but really I’m just typing idle notes. I glance up with a carefully-structured expression as a knock sounds on my door.

  “Come in,” I call, keeping my voice light. I hear a shuffling on the other side of the door, and a soft murmuring that seems to be growing increasingly irritated.

  I can only guess that Jack expects me to lay into the both of them, though that’s the last thing on my mind. I clear my throat, repeating my order for them to step inside. Jack pushes the door open, looking as disgruntled as always. Aimee’s expression is guarded, though it’s obvious that she’s received her share of verbal lashing already.

  “Yes, Mr. Sharpe, I came as soon as I was able to round this one up,” Jack grumbles, glancing quickly at Aimee. Aimee looks somewhat troubled, and it’s obvious how much her job in this office means to her. She refuses to meet my gaze, and I inhale a steadying breath as I look between the two of them.

  “Take it easy on her, Jack. You were new once, too,” I say coolly, and Jack mutters something under his breath. “If you have something to say, speak up,” I continue, unable to keep the slightest edge of venom from creeping into my voice. The balding thirty-something sighs, raising his eyes to meet mine.

  “And I knew my place,” Jack gripes.

  “As you should very well know your place, now,” I shoot back.

  Jack blanches, and Aimee looks as if she’s struggling to smother a self-satisfied smirk. I like that spark within her, her obvious tenacity even in the face of adversity.

  “Aimee, do you know why I’ve called you into my office?” I inquire, tapping my fingertips on the top of my desk. She hesitates, looking between Jack and me.

  “I was under the impression that I would be reprimanded for speaking out of turn. I wanted to…apologize,” she manages, though the words are obviously forced.

  I nod slowly, pretending to give some thought to what she’s saying. Truthfully, my eyes are more drawn to the hint of cleavage visible through her blouse. My fantasies from before surge to the forefront of my mind, and if I were less confident, I may very well be blushing like a schoolboy. Thankfully, neither of them seems to notice any change in my demeanor.

  “Oh, you mean that very useful suggestion you offered at the meeting? Why on earth would I reprimand you for that? Who would be that insecure in their abilities?” I reply, shooting a brief, but pointed look at Jack. He seems to take the hint that he’s treading on thin ice, his expression withdrawn.

  “Well, Jack suggested that it would be prudent for me to show some respect,” she answers with a small smile. It seems she’s just as aware of Jack’s misstep as the man himself is, and she looks all too pleased to be off the burner. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, though I realize she has no means of recognizing it yet.

  “I see. Jack, do you have anything to say for yourself?” I demand, though it’s all a farce at this point. A game of give and take, that I should hope ends with me taking what I want from both of them.

  “Don’t speak to me like I’m a child, Carson. She was out of line, and you know it as well as I do. So, if we can move past this little spectacle, I’d like to put her to work in the marketing department,” the man spits.

  I raise a brow, fighting to keep the sneer off of my face. Aimee looks between the two of us, as if watching a tennis match. She seems to realize that she’s the ball in this equation.

  “I certainly didn’t mean to cause such a fuss. I’m sincerely sorry, Mr. Sharpe,” she says, and I offer her a warm smile that sets her cheeks alight.

  “Please, Aimee. Call me Carson.” I grin. “As for the fuss, it’s not entirely your fault. Jack, here, tends to be a bit hot-headed with the new interns. Which is why I’m taking you off of his hands,” I casually announce.

  Their eyes widen simultaneously, and Jack looks furious.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” my balding employee demands, and I can’t help but laugh.

  “You seem to have forgotten who is in charge here. No matter. Instead of working under you in the marketing department, Aim
ee will instead be working alongside me. I’ve been in need of a personal aide, after all,” I tell Jack.

  “Don’t you think her abilities would be better put to use in marketing? She has no experience as a personal aide, and for that matter, she would be invaluable to my department,” Jack argues boldly. I vaguely appreciate his tenacity, but he’s not the one I have my eyes on.

  “I have to agree with Jack on this, Mr. Sharpe,” Aimee says with slight uncertainty. I smirk, brushing a hand through my salt-and-pepper hair.

  “Allow me to change your mind. Jack, please leave us. I need to speak to Miss Rhodes alone,” I say firmly.

  The balding man sputters for a moment, but when I narrow my eyes at him, he deflates. He steps out of the office, and I’m left alone with my brown-eyed beauty.

  Chapter Three

  Aimee

  Considering me with a perturbed expression, Aimee seems to be weighing her options before speaking. I can tell that she’s worried about upsetting me, and in spite of her previous comment, I expect her to give in to my offer with little fuss.

  “I really don’t think I’m suited to be your personal aide, Mr. Sharpe,” she says finally, looking resolved in her position.

  I raise a brow in amusement, but she doesn’t look pleased that I’m taking her lightly. I tilt my head at her, forming my expression into a quizzical one.

  “Tell me, Aimee, why do you think that?” I ask, allowing a vaguely sultry note to slip into my tone. I’m testing the waters, so to speak, and her eyes widen almost imperceptibly. It’s not the obvious reaction I’m vying for, but it’s clear that she has some idea of my intent. Her cheeks flush, and she averts her eyes.

  “From what I’ve been able to gather, I beat out thousands of applicants for this internship. I’m overqualified for the position you’re offering instead, and to be frank, it’s a bit insulting that you expect me to give in so easily,” she declares bluntly.

  I fight a chuckle, settling on a faint smile as I look her up and down. It’s not often that someone is so upfront with me. I find myself charmed by her brusque attitude, but it’s obvious that she’s the opposite of charmed in that moment.

  “You mean to tell me that you’d turn down a position directly under the man who put the Sharpe in SharpeFocus?” I say smoothly.

  She bites her lip, exposing straight, white teeth. Good, she takes proper care of herself as well as having a fiery attitude. If it wasn’t obvious from the meticulous detail of her makeup, or the body that nearly has me salivating, it’s obvious now. I want someone who will be able to keep up with me in all departments, not just in brilliance.

  “Mr. Sharpe…” She pauses, seeming to reconsider. “Carson. I’m honestly curious as to what you would find so fascinating about me, and why you’d want to steal me away from the marketing department,” she says slyly, stepping closer to my desk. There’s intent in her gaze, although I can’t be sure how she expects me to react. If she expects me to lose my cool, she’ll have to play a much harder game than that. I allow the vaguest of smirks to creep across my lips as I rest my chin in my palm.

  “It’s a matter of placement, dear,” I murmur. Her expression turns incredulous, and it’s all I can do not to laugh out loud. I’m loving every minute of this game, and though she is hard to read, I’m sure that Aimee will come to enjoy my company as well.

  “Placement?” she repeats, none too pleased with my self-assured dominance in the conversation.

  I nod, slipping out of my chair and circling around my desk towards her. I expect her to retreat, but she stands her ground, and I find myself more and more taken with her with every moment that passes. I’m so close that I can nearly feel the heat radiating from her cheeks, combating the icy chill of her stare. I’d like nothing more than to capture her lips with my own, to gather her in my arms, to…

  I take a deep breath. Back to the matter at hand.

  “I like to see my employees in the best possible position for their personal growth,” I manage, my mouth drier than I’d like to admit.

  “It seems that you’re more concerned with growth of your own,” she says with a cheeky little smile. The cold persona she’d been presenting seems to have warmed slightly, but I can tell the battle is not yet won. I’m nothing if not persistent. One doesn’t build a multibillion-dollar empire by being passive.

  The lewd undertones of her suggestion catch up with me a little too late, and she looks satisfied with herself at having surprised me.

  “My concern is the growth of my company, Aimee. What on earth would give you the idea that my intentions are any more insidious than that?” I purr. I pause for a beat, then lift a brow slyly. “However, I’m afraid that your implication is nothing short of unprofessional. I would almost think you harbor some sort of…attraction,” I say boldly.

  Her mouth opens and closes like a fish caught out of water. I keep my expression calm, deceptively so. Her cheeks burn with what is likely a mix of righteous anger and embarrassment, and she looks as if she would either like to slap or kiss the smug expression off of my face.

  Can you blame a man for being a little indulgent, especially with such a pretty young thing? The passion burning in her gaze is enough to send tingles down my spine, to places I dare not mention.

  “Of all the self-absorbed—” she begins, cutting herself off abruptly. She meets my gaze, holding it for a long moment before—God help me—she offers a sultry little smirk. “Well, Carson, if you think I will be unable to maintain an air of professionalism in your presence, I wouldn’t hold it against you if you chose to send me back to marketing,” she quips.

  I feel my own eyes widen, and for a split second I feel snared in my own trap. Well, if she wants to play in the kitchen, she’ll have to learn to take the heat.

  “If you can’t keep yourself under control, I’ll see you stripped of any title within my company’s reach,” I say gruffly, and her eyes widen as she realizes she’s made a bit of a misstep. “You should consider yourself privileged to be offered a position at my side, Miss Rhodes. Working with the CEO could teach you things you could only dream of, otherwise,” I add with a stern expression. She has no means of knowing that I’m bluffing, both about firing her and regarding the potential learning experience.

  Once she’s in my grip, I want to tease her a bit. I’m not one to jump straight from the appetizer to dessert. There’s an entire four-course meal at my disposal, and I plan to enjoy every bite, both literal and metaphorical.

  “Fine,” she says tersely, her lips drawn into a taut line. “I’ll accept the role as your assistant. It would be an honor, Mr. Sharpe,” she hisses. She looks furious, and while I might have expected her to feel defeated, she doesn’t appear as such. The fire that burns within her will be much harder to extinguish than that. Good.

  “Very well, Miss Rhodes. I’m glad we could come to such an amicable conclusion. You must understand, I hate stirring up bad feelings amongst my staff,” I smirk. She narrows her eyes, scrutinizing me to an almost uncomfortable point. “As I explained, this is a privileged position, and if you play your cards right, you’ll be well prepared for placement in higher-tiered jobs down the line,” I say, circling around to the other side of my desk. I sit in my plush office chair, clasping my hands on the surface of the desk in front of me.

  “I expect nothing less,” she retorts, considering me carefully. “So, I’m assuming you have a crucial task of some sort to assign me,” she continues drolly.

  I take a slow breath, weighing my options. I can immediately reveal the farcical nature of her employment terms, but there’s no fun in that. I’d rather let her stew for a bit and allow her to struggle with the concept of working with me for the sake of personal gain.

  From my treatment of the young intern, it likely seems that I’m a cruel man. I assure you, it’s only because I’m wise to the game. I know every trick to play this woman like a fiddle, and in spite of the disdain in her gaze, I also see a dark desire in her eyes.

&n
bsp; “For now, I’ll see that an office adjacent to mine is cleared out for you. Feel free to explore the lower floors, and—” I pause, reaching into my desk drawer. “Add your number into my phone. When I need you for something particularly important, it will be easier if I’m able to text you,” I tell her.

  While my reasoning for the time being is innocent enough, I can see how her phone number could be an asset in my plans. She seems to realize this as well, drawing her lip between her teeth and taking the phone from my hands.

  “In spite of my attitude, I really appreciate you offering me a position in your prestigious company. I do hope that I can learn a lot from my time at your side,” she says shakily, handing the phone back over to me and offering me a hesitant smile.

  The unprofessionalism of the game I’m playing hits me like a ton of bricks, and I grip my phone tightly in my hand before ushering for her to leave. She is immediately overcome with relief, a sigh spilling past her lips as she turns her back to me and rushes towards the door.

  I almost reconsider my plot to take her as my own. However, she pauses at the door and turns to face me with a final look of consternation. Her anxiety seems to shift to a rather unexpected excitement, and she smiles at me. A warm, genuine smile.

  “Oh, and of course, don’t worry about any hard feelings, Carson. Perish the thought,” she says slyly. Then, of all things, she winks at me before slipping out the door. The little minx!

  I can only wonder who is playing whom in this game we’re indulging in. I find myself growing more intrigued by the minute with this enigma of a young woman.

  Does she want me? Is she only playing into my hands to keep her job? I suppose only time will tell. Until she gives express indication that she’s grown weary of my antics, I plan to continue my pursuit. Professionalism be damned.