by KL Donn
“Oh no, please, don’t get rid of something you like.” I’d be horrified if he did that.
He laughs at me. “Baby, I don’t care about the damn ponds. I care if our son or daughter drowns. They’re going.”
“You can’t keep saying stuff like that.”
“Why?” His voice is deep as he leans towards me.
“Because you make me melt when you do.”
The car door opening behind me stops any further conversation. Receiving help from the vehicle with a foreign hand, I wait for Jordan on the first step leading up to his monstrous home.
The stoic pillars on either side of the door are intimidating as he grabs my hand, leading the way up to the double paned glass door. “Wow,” I murmur as he opens it, and I get to see the intricate swirls throughout. “This is beautiful.”
“It’s part of the original house. Same with the bricks and the pillars.” Pride colors his words.
The inside is just as stunning as the outside with the cedar floors and banister on the staircase. Everything looks to be hand carved.
“There are six bedrooms, each with an en-suite bathroom, a powder room is through there”—he points to a small room as we pass—“family room there, and the kitchen is in the back, fully stocked with everything you could ask for. Once you’re more settled, we’ll do that together, and you can add whatever you want.” Jordan grins from ear to ear as he relays what every room is for. The rec room is massive, and he insists we’ll turn it into a playroom for the baby when it’s time.
As we pass one of the rooms, I get a quick glimpse of a library and one of those old roller desks. “What’s this?” I ask, pulling from his grip and walking into the space.
The smell of books—the one of paper and ink mixed together—hit me like a ton of bricks. I feel at ease here. Registering a chaise lounge chair by a large window with flowers lining the outside of the frame, I’m drawn to it. What I see steals the breath from my lungs. A vast garden with rows of fresh vegetables and more flowers than I could ever imagine. Benches, small tables, and a considerable patio are spread throughout the yard. Pergolas cover every seating area, providing shade from the hot summer sun. I notice at least three small fountains that add soothing background noise for relaxing in the evening.
I can picture sitting out there playing with our child while Jordan works, waiting for him to come home.
“This is absolutely perfect, Jordan.”
His hands on my hips are my only answer.
Looking up to him, I say, “Show me our room?”
A devilish smirk quirks his mouth as he ushers me up the stairs. The walls are lined with historical paintings from all over the world, and I’m, once again, in awe of the beauty surrounding me.
He leads me past four closed doors before pushing open double doors that lead into the master suite. A large bed with mesh netting encasing the corners is centered in the room with night tables on either side. A large walk-in closet dominates an entire wall, with a chest of drawers beside it.
Pushing me forward, he leads me to the master bath. “Oh…my…shit.”
“Guess you like it, huh?”
“Like it? I love it!”
I can’t contain my excitement. The entire north facing wall is covered with tinted windows. A claw foot tub sits in one corner encased with shelves that have drawers on each end and a single step leading into the tub. A rain shower stall is off to the other side.
“It would be wonderful to soak in there with a storm raging outside,” I mumble, half hoping we get a storm soon.
Jordan’s arms wrap around me from behind as he pulls me from the room. “I had some stuff brought over for you from your old apartment.” He seems hesitant as I turn. “Just things I thought you might need when we got home. I figure we can go over there, and you can decide what you want to keep and what can be donated later.”
I can’t even begin to explain how much this man means to me at the moment.
I view a box full of all my keepsakes on a shelf in the closet. Walking over to it, I open the lid and tell him, “Everything else can be donated; I only wanted this.”
Moving over to me, Jordan looks inside, and what he sees is likely just a bunch of crap. Nothing worth anything at all. But to me, it’s my life.
“My first hockey ticket stub. I saved for three months to go to that game. I was eleven. We lost, but it was amazing.” Pulling out the trading card I had stashed with it, I smiled. “Alexander Ovechkin signed this for me after the Capitals’ game. I waited for hours to see someone. His accent was so thick I almost didn’t understand him.”
“Hockey fan, are you?”
“Oh, good gawd, no. I didn’t even know who he was until I went home and looked him up. My father got tickets to a game and took some other kid on the block because he was a boy. I wanted to see what the fuss was about and prove to my father that I could do things with him, too.”
“And did he after that?”
“I was grounded for two months for going.”
Jordan shakes his head before grabbing out a ticket stub for my first concert. “Backstreet Boys for their comeback tour in 2005. It was a blast.”
“Boy bands? Really?”
Shrugging, I pull out a photo of Taylor Swift and me in 2009. I took the train to Columbia when she was doing signings for her new release before a concert. “I was alone, and they weren’t allowing pictures, she snuck one in with me.”
“You were quite the rebel, weren’t you?” He laughs.
“I wasn’t real popular ‘cause my parents were always saying no to everything, so people stopped trying to make friends with me. It was my way of getting back at them, I guess.” When Jordan begins to speak, probably to express sympathy or anger for my upbringing, I interrupt him. “Are you going in to work tomorrow?”
“Yes, I took the whole week off even though I told everyone it would merely be the weekend. It’ll only be for a couple of hours, though. I need to get a few things organized so I can start delegating better. I don’t want to be a workaholic any longer than necessary.”
“I see.”
“Sit.” He brings me over to the bed. “I need to tell you something else.”
“Oh boy.” I can’t help the sarcasm.
“For about six years, I’ve had the same assistant. She’s been efficient in doing her job and making sure my schedule is tight.”
“Oookay.” I don’t understand why he’s telling me this.
“She has also made it clear that she’d be happy to warm my bed at night.”
Standing up, I’m not sure I want to hear any more. “And did she?”
“Not even once. I didn’t feel the same way. I’ve always been leery of women because of my money. I don’t trust easily, Megan.” He pauses to let me process. “That first morning after we got to Bora Bora, I sent an email to human resources asking to have her moved to another department by the time I got back. I told them I wouldn’t be needing her services, but she was still valuable to the company.” Relief floods me. “I also told them to find me a male assistant to avoid this conflict in the future.”
Crawling into his lap, I murmur against his lips. “Thank you.”
His hands roam my back under my shirt, massaging the tense muscles in my shoulders. “Don’t thank me yet. She emailed me the following day with threats of sexual harassment. And if I know anything about assholes like that, I have a feeling she’s going to try and harass you as well.”
“What, why?”
His sigh is heavy with burden. “Because that’s how people like her work. If she doesn’t get her way, she’ll do what she can to make others miserable.”
“So, what do we do?”
Jordan
There aren’t enough adjectives in the world to express how much I loathe telling her this next part. “I’ve hired two bodyguards for you, and they’ll be here first thing tomorrow morning.”
“You think she’s dangerous?” Fear darkens her eyes.
“N
o,” I’m quick to reassure, “but I work with the government, and there’s always a risk with that. Whether she made threats or not, you would always have a minimum of two bodyguards. That’s non-negotiable, sweetheart.” I can see her gearing up to argue.
Her lips twitch from side to side as she contemplates my words. “I’m not much for leaving the house unless I have to anyways, so I guess it won’t be too bad.”
“That’s my girl.” I praise.
“Does she have access to the house?”
“No.” That was something I’d never been comfortable with. “Her access has been revoked from my office and floor as well. I have videos of every encounter where she propositioned me, as well. She can’t do anything to us.”
“If her persistence keeps up, what will happen?”
“I’ll fire her.”
“Okay.”
Just like that she’s cheerful again. Worried maybe, but I’ve settled her for the night. As we lay in bed resting after a rather vigorous week, I finally get to enjoy having her in our home.
Listening to her light breathing, feeling her relaxed body as she trusts me to keep her safe is one of the most glorious feelings in the world. Knowing I gave her this makes me ecstatic as hell.
Dreading the morning to come, I seek out sleep with Megan wrapped tightly in my embrace.
It feels like only minutes have passed and the alarm is awakening me. Panic sears my blood when I notice the other side of the bed is empty. Scrambling form beneath the sheets, I rush through the house and down to the kitchen where I finally take a breath.
“You fucking scared ten years off my life, woman!”
Megan just smiles like nothing’s wrong.
“I haven’t slept so well in years. I thought I’d make us breakfast?” She grins at me, and everything’s right in my world again.
“Fine.” I point to her. “Next time, wake me up, dammit.”
Walking away, her laughter follows me up to our room as I get ready for work. After showering and shaving, I come out to see her sitting on the bed in one of the dresses I specifically requested in a vibrant emerald green with spaghetti straps and a flared waist.
Strolling over to her, I lean forward for a kiss, telling her, “You look stunning.” The blush that creeps up her chest and neck is alluring.
“I laid out a suit and tie for you. I hope that’s okay?” Shocked, I look behind her to see my black Armani suit accompanied by a shirt and tie to match her dress.
“Oh, it’s definitely alright.” I could get used to this kind of treatment.
“I have an appointment this afternoon with my obstetrician.” Her words are slightly hesitant.
“Do you want me to go with you?” I’d fucking love to, but I don’t know if that’s too personal yet. Fuck it, “I’ll come with you.”
“I’d like that.”
“I’ll have the guys bring you to my office, and I can show you around a bit first if you’d like.”
“I’d love it.”
The ringing doorbell announces her bodyguards’ arrival, and her shoulders stiffen. “Relax, baby, they’re good guys.”
Walking Megan downstairs after I’ve dressed, I open the door to see them still waiting on an answer. “Hey guys, come on in.”
“How’s it going, man? Can’t believe you got hitched!” They both laugh like it’s so shocking.
“Yeah, yeah, bust my balls now before you’re officially employed.”
“Officially? What the–” his comment stops as Megan comes out of her hiding spot.
“Hi,” she waves a little, and it’s adorable. Both men, who stand a good half foot over her, kind of melt in her presence. I don’t like it, but I understand it.
“Megan, this is Trainer and Dodge.” She waves again, they chuckle. “Dodge, Train, my wife, Megan.” I’m sure to emphasize the wife part.
“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Maxwell.” Dodge greets her with a bow.
“Nice to meet you, Megs,” Trainer grins at her as he takes her hand and kisses it.
“Megan,” I snap, not liking them giving her a pet name.
“Whatever you say, boss.” Dodge laughs like it’s a joke.
“I ain’t laughing.” I snap again. These two are gonna be a fucking problem I’m going to regret.
Megan
When Jordan left for the office, he’d been hesitant, and I think it’s because Dodge and Trainer kept flirting with me while he was here. Once he’d gone, they calmed down and started doing their job. Which I don’t think is too hard considering Jordan has state of the art security around the house. They seemed baffled as to the need for their services until I explained about the assistant and her possible threats. They shared a look that left me a tad worried.
“You ready to go, Mrs. Maxwell?” Trainer asks as he enters the library.
“I suppose.” I’m more than a little worried about going to Jordan’s work. Running into Jordan’s ex-assistant has me nervous.
“Don’t worry about that woman. She won’t get within shouting distance of you,” Trainer insists.
“If you say so.” I want to believe him, but it’s just not in me yet.
He and Dodge usher me outside with a hand to my back. The other ones maintain a grip on the guns at their hips.
The trip downtown is quiet as we drive. I’m secure in the middle of the backseat with Dodge and Trainer on either side and a big, burly guy up front driving. I think they are lucky I’m not claustrophobic or we’d have a bit of an issue.
“Breathe, Megan,” Dodge encourages from my side.
My uneasiness is ridiculously high as we pull into the parking garage underneath the building. Looking in from the outside, you’d never know what the company did.
As we enter the lobby floor, people are running around back and forth, rushing like their asses are on fire.
“Is it always like this?” I ask.
“Most days, yup,” Dodge answers me.
“So, you’ve worked for Jordan before?”
They share another one of those looks. “We’ve been contracted on and off with Maxwell, Limited for years as private contractors.” Well then, I guess that explains why they were joking around so much this morning.
The elevator they take me on is controlled by a key, so I assume it’s what Jordan meant when he said the assistant no longer had access to his floor.
The ride is quick, and the doors are opening before I get my bearings. A tall man is seated behind a white curved desk with computer, printer, and phone the only items upon it, ready to greet us with a huge welcoming smile on his face.
“Ohhh, you must be the new Mrs. Maxwell,” the replacement assistant exclaims, and I have no idea what to do with his enthusiasm.
“Umm, yes, I am.” I have trouble with meeting new people, and his charisma throws me off center.
He tries to pull me in for a hug, and thankfully, my new bodyguards step into his path. “No touching. No flirting. No looks. Bosses rules.” I have to hold in my laughter at the stricken expression on the man’s face at Trainer’s words.
Tugging on the front of his jacket, he pulls himself together. “I’m Mr. Maxwell’s new assistant, Wyatt. If you need anything just holler.”
Nodding my head, we walk away. “I’m exhausted,” I sigh as they lead me down a hall to what I assume is Jordan’s office.
“Imagine how bossman’s feeling by now.” Dodge snickers and I can’t help joining him.
Shouting can be heard from behind closed doors as we approach. When Trainer goes to open it, I stop him with a hand on his arm. “Shouldn’t we wait?”
“Nope.” The instigator just grins as he opens the door.
“It’s your funeral,” I mutter walking past both men as I admire my sexy husband entrenched in a serious conversation.
“I don’t care. We had a contract. He set the terms, I paid the money. In case you are forgetting…I. Get. The. Product.” Oh, Jordan looks fierce as he tries to keep his calm. Watching him in this environme
nt is oddly arousing. I fight the urge to go to him until he finishes his phone call. “Fine! Tell him if I don’t have the materials we need by the agreed upon date, I’ll be going after his company for twice the amount I paid, and win. He’ll never have another contract again.” The slamming of the receiver makes me jump as this powerful businessman spins around, a growl leaving his chest that nearly stops my heart.
He still hasn’t seen me, and I don’t know how given the two brutes standing behind me. He looks exhausted now as he hunches over his desk, head hung low between his stooped shoulders.
“Jordan?” My words are tentative. I’d hate to have that same anger aimed at me.
When he looks up, his face is strained, his eyes are stressed, and his lips are pinched like he choked on a lemon. Our eyes meet, his dark orbs swirl like perfectly melted chocolate, and they heat up so quickly I feel the air around us electrify as he stalks towards me.
His body coils, ready to strike like a snake on the hunt.
My body hums with arousal and awareness of his power.
His breaths are heavy and hoarse.
My heart is ready to belong to him.
Jordan
I shouldn’t have come in today. I knew it. Wyatt greeted me as soon as I entered the building and has been on my ass ever since. He’s efficient at what I’ve given him so far, but the dude needs to learn to shut the fuck up occasionally. Thankfully, my old assistant didn’t want to stick around after she learned there was proof that she was the one making all the passes at me and left without any trouble.
When I found out one of our suppliers hadn’t even shipped the materials that we’ll need in three days, I became fucking pissed. I’ve spent the better part of the morning trying to get a hold of the little prick. His assistant kept telling me he was out of the office all day. When I contacted his attorney about the breach of contract, the idiot had the gall to give me dumbass excuses that a toddler could spin better.
After threatening the man with a lawsuit, I’m ready to put my fist through a fucking wall. But hearing her soft voice call my name, raises every animalistic instinct in my body to come to attention.