by Carter Blake
“Is there anything else, Mr. Philip?” she asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
I cough. “I came to ask about the itinerary tomorrow.”
“We leave at nine.” A small smile spreads across her gorgeous face. “I think you’re really going to enjoy it.”
I doubt that. In fact, spending time with her and not being able to touch her seems more like torture than fun.
On the nightstand beside her bed, her phone lights up with an incoming text. I glance down and frown when I see the screenshot that’s saved as her background.
It’s a picture of her and Lily. But that’s not what gets my attention. It’s the smile on my daughter’s face that makes my heart skip a beat, because it’s the first time since her mother left that I’ve seen that look on her face. She’s smiling so big that both her dimples are showing, as well as the huge gap where her two front teeth should be.
I pick up the phone and study the photo. “She lost her front teeth?”
“Last week,” Eliana says, moving towards me.
“I didn’t know. The tooth fairy?”
“She was very generous. Who knew that a tooth was worth so much nowadays?” Her lips quirk up in a small smile.
I nod, and hand her the phone. Our fingers brush when she takes it from me, and I see the small tremor that races through her.
“Goodnight, Miss Sanders.” Better to walk away now before I do something I’ll regret.
“Goodnight, Mr. Philip.”
I have a feeling it’s going to be a very long night, because I have no clue how the fuck I’m going to fall asleep knowing the woman is only a few rooms away.
Chapter 4
Eliana
Lily comes bounding into my room just as the sun peeks through the drapes. Jumping on top of me, she gives me a dimpled smile and says, “Wake up, Elly. It’s time to go to the zoo.”
“Okay, okay. I’m up.” I tickle her and she laughs. “Why don’t you go wake your dad up?”
Her little face turns suddenly serious. “He doesn’t like when I disturb him.”
“I think today will be okay. He took the whole day off work just to be with you.”
Her eyes brighten again, and she quickly changes the subject, “Macy said there’s a new baby giraffe. It was only born last week, but it’s already as tall as Daddy.”
“Wow.”
“Did you know that giraffe’s are the tallest animal in the whole world?”
“I did.”
“Except for whales,” she continues to ramble on. “But they’re not really tall, just long.”
I try to keep a straight face as she spouts off more facts.
“Are you two still in your pajamas?” A deep voice says from the door. Lucas stands there looking hot as sin in his white t-shirt that stretches tight against his powerful chest, and designer jeans that look like they haven’t had much wear.
I’m surprised he even owns a pair.
I immediately flush when I think about what happened last night. Him seeing me half-naked. Then his brief touch when he handed me my phone. The heat of his fingers on my skin. I’ve never felt anything lie it.
Had he felt it too?
The way he’s looking at me now, all cool and aloof, I doubt it. Maybe it was all in my head.
“Daddy,” Lily says, jumping off the bed and running to him.
My heart practically melts when he scoops her up and presses and kiss against her cheek. For a moment, his gaze softens, and I see something almost vulnerable in his expression.
He loves her. That much is obvious. So why does he pull away?
“Go get dressed,” he says, putting her down. “We don’t want to be late.”
Lily nods, and disappears down the hall, leaving him standing in the doorway of my room, once again.
“Do you always sleep in, Miss Sanders?” His blue gaze is narrowed on me.
“It’s barely seven o’clock.” Is he serious?
He grunts, and turns, leaving without saying another word.
So much for the softness I thought I saw. But he doesn’t have to be nice to me. That’s not why I’m here. As long as I can get him to spend more time with Lily, I’ve done my job. It may not be the job he hired me for, but it is the one he needs me for.
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Excerpt: Pretend To Be Mine
Chapter 1
Ross
The moment Brooklyn Walsh walked into my office I wanted her. No, scratch that, I wanted to fuck her. To pull up that tight little skirt she was wearing and drive myself balls deep into what would no doubt be the sweetest pussy I’ve ever had.
But damn if it didn’t go against my one and only rule – never mix business with pleasure.
Despite the way my cock protests every time she walks into the room, my sweet little assistant would have to stay that. Sweet. Untainted by my perverse desires. Assisting me in every need except the one I can’t stop thinking about.
Today, Brooklyn’s curvy little body is snug in a little black dress, that while modest, screams fuck me, please. Hell, I swear the woman could make a burlap bag look sexy.
She tucks a strand of her long blonde hair behind her ear, and studies the tablet that she’s holding.
I’ve thought about firing her. That would solve my problem. But from the small details I know about her, she needs this job. And in all fairness, she’s a good assistant. One of the best I’ve had in the five years since I took over the company.
But with Brooklyn it’s like my cock has a mind of its own. Like I’m some hormonal teenager and not a thirty-two-year-old CEO millionaire who can have any woman he wants.
Any woman except Brooklyn Walsh.
Transferring her to another department crossed my mind. But I haven’t been able to make the call. The torment of having her around is nothing compared to having her assist anyone else.
She’s looking at me now, brows drawn down when she takes in my appearance. I can only imagine what she sees. Still dressed in yesterday’s suit, I run my hand across the scruff on my jaw, then through my mussed hair.
“What?” I bark, making her jump slightly.
She glances across the room towards the black leather couch and rumpled blanket, and frowns. “Did you sleep here last night?”
I grunt, refocusing my attention to the paperwork in front of me. Yeah, I’d slept here. Because the only thing that takes my mind off the tortuous ache in my balls is work. That and the bottle of bourbon that’s half-empty in the bottom drawer of my desk.
“Coffee?” The lilt of her voice makes me look up.
Bad move. She’s standing in front of me, and when she reaches over to place a cup in front of me, I can see straight down the front of her dress to the pink satin bra she’s wearing.
Holy hell, I’m one hundred percent screwed.
I groan, and her gaze flashes to mine, eyes widening. So innocent, and yet so damn inviting, I swear my cock is going to burst through the seams of my pants.
Down boy.
“Sit.” The word comes out harsher than I intended.
She bites on her bottom lip and sits in the chair across from me, adjusting her dress nervously.
I know full well that I scare her. I’m a hard man to work with, but with her I’ve been even more demanding. More callous. I’m surprised she’s lasted as long as she has. Most people would have quit weeks ago.
But not Brooklyn. Despite the sweetness about her, she’s tough. Like there’s a steel iron inside her, under all those luscious curves.
“Your father called.”
My head jerks up at that, because I know the second part of that sentence will only fuck with my life one way or another.
I’d hoped he would take it easy when he handed over the company’s reins to me. With his high blood pressure, retirement was exactly what the doctor ordered. Not to mention that he’d let the business slip.
It took two years to get it out of the red, and another two to clean up the mess he’d created. So, when my fathe
r said that he was running for office, I thought it was some kind of a joke.
“And?” I demand, tapping my fingers on the edge of my desk waiting for her to drop the bomb.
“He wanted to make sure you were still going to the Gladstone Charity Event tonight.”
Shit. I’d forgotten all about it.
“When I spoke with him, he sounded pretty persistent that you be there. And…” She winces and looks away.
“And what, Miss Walsh?”
“That you bring a date and not the same…” She bites back a small smile. “…floozy you brought to the last one.”
I grunt and lean forward, forearms resting on my desk, and mentally go through my backlog of women. But the thought of spending time with any of them is as appealing as shoving my hand in a blender.
Work is the only relationship I have time for. The last thing I need is another female trying to dig her claws into my bed and bank account. And that’s exactly what will happen if I invite any one of the women in my little black book.
I need something simpler.
The thought of calling an escort feels desperate. And I’ve already had one humiliating experience that I’ll never live down. The last time I hired a companion for the evening, most of the men at the event had rented her out before. She spent more time handing out cards than actually being my date.
She wasn’t the most expensive escort on the books because she was good. She was the most expensive one because she was popular. The whole fucking thing was embarrassing. The idea that everyone knew that my date was an escort is one scandal that my father has never let me live down.
I could go without a date, but that will only tempt the cougars and gold diggers to think I’m still on the market. Which I’m not. I’ve married myself to this company, and for now that’s all the companionship I need.
“Mr. White?” Brooklyn’s watching me. Her tongue darts out across her plump bottom lip and I almost groan out loud.
The little temptress doesn’t know what she does to me.
“What?” I snap, looking away and trying to think of anything but her.
“Would you like me to call one of your…female friends to escort you?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Because the solution to my problem is staring straight at me.
No fucking way. I shake my head and focus on the contracts in my hand. Taking Brooklyn anywhere outside of this office is a very bad idea, because the minute I allow myself one touch, I know I won’t be able to hold back from consuming all of her.
She looks at me with those big green eyes, and I know she has no idea what I’m truly capable of. What kind of man is under the designer suits, and cold, calculated mannerisms.
I am the big bad wolf that her mother warned her about.
The girl is too fucking innocent.
And she’s my goddamn assistant.
Keep your paws off her, my brain screams, despite the persistent pulsing bulge between my legs.
But damn, as I’m giving her notes, watching her pink lips pout as I spill out a ton of chores for her to do by lunch time, I can't get the thought out of my head that her sweet little body was made for me.
I need to go through my black book. Try and figure out someone else to take to this damn party.
“Can you do all this before twelve? I need to leave early today.”
She sighs, but tries to hide her frustration at my tight deadlines.
My phone buzzes and I curse under my breath when I read my father’s text. Ella, my ex. The one that never seems to get the fucking message that we’re over is coming tonight. Even more reason why I need to find a date, and fast.
I was furious when I found out my father had hired her to help him run his campaign. But then he never could resist a pair of long legs and a pretty face. And Ella had both going for her. What she didn’t have was a heart.
Or if she did, it was made of pure ice. The woman was as cold and calculating as I am. The only difference is that’s all there is to her. She’ll stop at nothing to get what she wants, and what she wants is me on a leash, and a ten caret ring on her finger.
So not happening.
Another text pops up on my phone.
Please don’t disappoint me, son.
See you at eight.
I’m stuck going to this damn party, and playing the part of the dutiful, adoring son. And that’s all it is, a part to play. If I didn’t need to keep up appearances for the business, I’d tell my father exactly what he could do with invitation.
But the man’s put himself center stage, once again.
Trust dad to want to run for office.
I shake my head as Brooklyn stares at me. When I don’t look away like I usually do, her brows turn down and she starts to fidget, nervously.
“What?”
“Are you free tonight?” The question comes out before I have a chance to stop myself.
“I can be.” She frowns. “Is there a project you need me to work on?”
I take my time to word this carefully, because for the first time in my life, I am worried about a rejection, something that I’m not accustomed to. But I’m fucking desperate, and I know that I can’t demand it of her. Because I need her help.
Chapter 2
Brooklyn
To say that I'm exhausted is an understatement. I start at eight every morning and if I’m lucky I leave by the same time in the evening, but I suspect that tonight's going to be different. The way he’s looking at me, tells me he wants something more than my usual twelve hour shift.
I'm tempted to say, ‘Yes, sir. Do you want anything else? Like for me to drive to Chicago and back before the end of the day?’
But sarcasm doesn’t go over well with my boss. Actually no type of humor does. He’s the most serious man I’ve ever met.
Dark.
Brooding.
And sexy as sin on a stick with whip cream on top.
Focus, Brooklyn. The man is way out of your league.
I smile at him, the same way that I do every single time he asks me to do the impossible.
The man’s a slave driver. Always wanting more than I can give.
He’s obsessed with work. Maybe that’s the role of being a CEO, being on top of everything. Or maybe it’s the perfectionist in him, driving him to always achieve more.
But how much more can one person seriously need? Or want?
He has staff. A lot of them, nearly two hundred employees and he is obsessed with micromanaging nearly everyone.
Including me.
But I won’t quit.
Because leaving means going back home or even worse, back on the road.
I haven't been home since I graduated from high school and I’m not about to go back now. It isn’t an option. Ever.
Getting another job seems like the easiest solution, except that it took me six months to land this one. Before that, I was working in a coffee house, barely able to pay my half of the rent.
Prices in the city are outrageous.
I need this job. And working with Ross White isn’t completely terrible. When he isn’t growling at me, or shouting orders, he can actually be kind of sweet. Well, maybe sweet isn’t the right word – more like civil.
It also doesn’t hurt that he looks like he’s been plucked off a GQ magazine cover. Dark hair that’s always mussed just right. Clear, intelligent blue eyes that smolder with promise.
Just not for me.
He’s made it very clear that our relationship is one hundred percent business. I’ve never had a man go so out of his way to make sure he doesn’t touch me.
It’s fine. I don’t do relationships. Or sex.
I’m just starting to get my life on track.
Nothing, not even Mr. Tall, Dark, and Deliciously Brooding will get in my way.
Chapter 3
Ross
“I need your help, Miss Walsh. But it’ll mean going beyond what I pay you for.”
Her expression goes
from guarded, to intrigued, to full out suspicious.
“I want you to escort me tonight to the function.”
Her mouth drops open slightly. “You want me to be your date?”
“Strictly business, of course,” I add quickly.
“Of course.” Her tone is an echo of mine, stoic and reserved. But I can practically see the wheels spinning inside that pretty little head of hers. She thinks I’m up to something.
And I am.
“Why me?” Her green eyes narrow, regarding me.
“I don’t have time to call anyone else.” Knowing the words are a little too curt, I add, “And I think my father would appreciate you over the floozy I took to the last event.”
That causes a small smile to play on her lips.
I shake my head thinking about the reason that I’ve kept our relationship merely professional. She’s my assistant and apart from not wanting a sexual lawsuit on my hands, she’s way too young. Christ, the woman is practically a decade younger than me.
“If you’re busy–”
“No.” The word comes out in a rush, and her cheeks turn a shade of pink. “I mean, I’m free. If you need my help.”
This feels like a bad idea.
Because no matter how hard I try to deny it, I know this can only end one way. With her in my bed and my cock buried balls deep inside her.
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Excerpt: Hot Takeover
Chapter 1
Alicia
“Alicia, did you hear me?”
I set aside the design I’m working on and look up at the woman who’s currently hovering over me, blonde hair pulled tight in a bun, green eyes filled with malice as they rake over me.
Cynthia Briggs.
My boss.
The one that ignores every design I send her.
“Yes?” I force a smile, but one look at the woman’s pinched face and all the frustration that I let go of during this morning’s yoga session, slams into me.