by Celia Aaron
“The grate got me.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I hate that damn thing. It’s ruined more shoes of mine than I care to mention.” Sasha picked up her phone’s handset and punched a button. “Mr. Fairfax, you’re needed up front.”
“Let me go.” Why was my voice breathy?
“All right.” He slid his hand from my waist, skirting the top of my ass with his fingers before letting his arm fall to his side.
His touch was too intimate, too knowing. I didn’t want to, but I glanced into his crystalline eyes. He didn’t turn away, just kept me in his gaze as Sasha prattled on about the grate.
I hopped a step away from him. “My office manager will come get me. You can go.”
“I didn’t catch your name.” He gave me an easy smile, too easy. He was toying with me.
“I’m Ms. Rochester.” I straightened my back despite the pain in my ankle.
“Jack England.” His voice was deep and smooth, not a scratch in the rumble.
I noticed Sasha staring him up and down like she was taking his measurements. I couldn’t blame her. Though obviously an asshole, he was beautiful in all the ways a man should be.
“Well.” The pain burned in my ankle as I reached for the binder and my ruined shoe. “Hand me my things and you can go about your day.”
I sounded dismissive. I knew it. Mason called my demeanor haughty, among the many other things he called me these days. But now wasn’t the time to think about those moments, those words.
Jack England didn’t seem to take offense at my tone, but he didn’t move either.
Allen Fairfax, king of all things in the Thornfield office, came around the corner. He smiled, warmth beaming out of him in a way I envied. Fairfax was a genuinely nice person, the kind that are hard to find. He was rounded in the belly and graying on his head, but he had a jaunty walk, as if he were still a teenager with the world laid out before him. As a distant cousin, I’d known him long before I began working at Thornfield, but we’d grown closer over the past few years.
“Ms. Rochester, what have you done to yourself?” He narrowed his eyes at my naked foot and then looked at Jack. “Hurt your boss on the first day? That must be some sort of record.”
I looked up sharply as my heart sank. “Boss?”
Fairfax smiled, the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes showing his age. “Yes, Ms. Rochester, Jack here is your new assistant.”
“Wha-what happened to Jenny or whatever her name was? You know, the one with the hair.” Jenny, darling redheaded Jenny, had decided that her best look was dreads. It wasn’t.
“Once she realized you were clear of the building last week, she took her leave.” Fairfax kept smiling, laughing at my chronic problem of vanishing staff.
“Why?”
He raised his eyebrows with a “you know why” look.
Truth be told, I wasn’t too well-liked as a boss. Jenny had tried my patience on several occasions over the course of her weeks-long employment. Her time was up, anyway. They never stayed for more than a month. I ran them off in short order.
They all had the same complaints in their exit interview—Ms. Rochester was too demanding, too high strung, too much of a brooder, too brash, and the list could go on ad finitum. Of course, all those things were true. So what?
I was sure that somewhere out there was an assistant who could appreciate me. Surely. I gave Jack a look, wondering if he’d be the one. Doubtful. He was a cocky asshole. He’d be out the door in no time.
The clock started ticking in my mind, counting down the days until he says he’s found greener pastures elsewhere. Maybe I could run him off even quicker. What was Fairfax thinking, hiring a man?
“There weren’t any more qualified candidates?” I glanced at Jack.
“I think you’ll find me perfectly capable.” He wasn’t flustered in the least, his steady confidence like a calm body of water.
No one had ever been so unflappable in my presence. I didn’t like it.
“Just try him out.” Fairfax’s smile and the amused twinkle in his eye grated on me.
But my ankle hurt too much to continue arguing. Besides, I had plenty of tactics to get rid of assistants posthaste. Jack wouldn’t last. “Somebody help me to my office.”
Jack took my elbow again before Fairfax could get close enough to offer aid.
Fucking hell. His touch was firm and sent a tingle down my spine. I sighed at my body’s reaction. “Just do that thing you did before. It helped.”
Jack obeyed and wrapped his arm around my waist, lifting me as I toddled along on my one good foot. He led me to my corner office and lowered me into my desk chair. Fairfax followed us, obviously highly amused with my current plight.
I motioned to Jack. “Put the binder on my desk. Send my shoe out to Lenny’s two blocks over for repair. Tell Len I want it back this morning. No later. If he gives you guff, tell him I’d be more than happy to speak with him about it. That’ll shut him up.”
Jack nodded.
“Fairfax, call Pilot as soon as you walk out of this office and tear them a new asshole over that grate.”
He tipped his head. “I’ll get it taken care of.”
“Tell them they’re lucky I don’t sue.”
Fairfax chuckled. “They’ll feel lucky enough already that I called instead of you. You scare them to death over there.”
“They’re lucky I don’t take this ruined shoe and shove it up their backsides.”
“I’ll tell them that for you, too.”
“Good.”
“Well, I’ll let you two get to know each other. Holler if you have any issues.” Fairfax left, still laughing at my pronouncements of lawsuits and shoe violence.
Jack didn’t acknowledge my threats. He was a man of few words and even fewer tells. What was he thinking? That I was a bitch, like all the rest of them thought? I could generally get a decent idea from most people, but he was a puzzle. His face, calm and angular, gave nothing away. His eyes followed my movements, though. He seemed to take in details. That was a good thing. Details were everything in my business.
“Why did Fairfax hire you? What sort of training do you have? Degrees?” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my hurt ankle over my knee to inspect it more closely.
He looked away, out the window that gave a broad view of the few skyscrapers in downtown Birmingham.
“I graduated from Alabama this summer with a bachelor’s and master’s degree in finance. I also—”
“How were your grades?”
“Summa cum laude.” He didn’t say it with pride. There was no chest puffing or faux self-effacing commentary. Just a simple fact. He’d gotten out with the highest honors.
Maybe Fairfax hadn’t totally screwed up this hire. Jack might be useful for the month he lasted. He was young, and green as a spring bud, but his grades said he was smart. Smart could get you a long way. Clever or cunning? Even further. A few years back I was just like him, before I’d worked and schemed my way to the top ranks of a multi-million dollar company. It helped that nobody had been minding the store.
The Thornfield CEO, Mr. Hurst, hadn’t darkened the office’s door for almost two years now. He’d retired in some sunny island nation and let the vice presidents and other agents do all the work, sell all the real estate, and keep him fully stocked in piña coladas. I envied the bastard something fierce. But his absence helped me work my magic on his clients, getting their business and making money off every high dollar enterprise I could. Making money was the name of the game, and I had debts that couldn’t be ignored.
“Why come to work for me?” I rubbed the skin along my ankle. It was starting to swell and would be black and blue by the end of the day. I would have Pilot’s ass for this.
“Thornfield is one of the biggest real estate brokers in the Southeast. I figured it would be in my best interest to learn the business.” There was something in his voice. It wasn’t quite eagerness, more of a scientific curiosity.
&n
bsp; “You don’t have any problems being an assistant to a woman only a few years older than you?” The question came out cold, like most of my words. I wanted to test him, needed to know if he could take it.
He seemed laid back to the point of almost having no reaction. Cool, thoughtful. But I sensed something, something under the surface, hidden. Or maybe I only wanted there to be something more to get a rise out of him. I tended to be like that. Poking, prodding, and pushing to the hard limits. Hence the month-long tenure of most assistants.
“None.” He met my eyes, no fear or apprehension there. He was steady, at ease. I hadn’t shaken him one bit.
I frowned. “How old are you, anyway?” My curiosity won out over the employee handbook restrictions on asking about age, gender, or any other no-nos.
“Twenty-five. How old are you?”
I wanted to smile at his boldness. He’d already shown more backbone than my prior two assistants combined.
“Twenty-eight. Why such a late bloomer? Shouldn’t you have graduated a few years ago?”
His gaze strayed back out the window. Though his face was expressionless, I felt like I’d gotten to him, if only a little, with the question.
“I wasn’t able to go straight to college after high school.”
“Why not?”
“Family issues.” His voice softened, making him seem even younger.
Lord, I knew all about those. I’d had enough experience with “family issues” to last a lifetime. He didn’t offer any more insight.
“And where are you from originally?”
He turned his head, looking out toward the crisscrossing railroad tracks and industrial buildings, toward the poorest areas of town. “Lowood.”
Surprising. Few had the ability to make it out of such humble beginnings. Maybe he was a person of pure will, one who was always meant to rise. I never had to worry about whether I had what it took to make it. I came from a prestigious family. If Jack had looked through the window behind me, he could see my family manse perched high atop Red Mountain, looking down at the city with an arrogant, if beautiful, façade.
“Do you still have family in Lowood?”
“No.”
“Your parents?”
“They don’t live there.”
Where do they live?”
He shrugged.
I should have stopped prying, but his quick answers made me want to know more. “No aunts or uncles?”
“Several, I’ve been told, but I don’t know where they are.”
“Brothers or sisters?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
Maybe? He was definitely a hard case of some sort. I was intrigued.
“So, no family connections. How did you get recommended for this position?”
He turned back to me, stoicism still threading through his expression. “Mr. Fairfax knows my godmother, Ms. Temple. She recommended me for the position.”
“So you do have family, then?”
“She lives in Homewood, not Lowood. And she’s not blood.”
I let the silence return, giving him a reprieve. I’d done enough prying…for now, anyway.
I let my ankle go and leaned back in my chair. I could swear when I crossed my legs at the knee, his nostrils flared the tiniest bit. It was the most reaction I’d seen yet. Interesting.
“Well, Jack, this is a beginning. I don’t want any dead weight on my team.” I pinned him with a stare. “Piss me off, I’ll cut you. Fuck something up, I’ll cut you. You already have one strike against you for that shit at the front door.”
“That wasn’t my fault.” He shook his head.
“You were holding the door for me at a ridiculously awkward distance. That’s what made me trip. I was trying to get to you, and then I actually looked at you…” My cheeks heated. Jesus, Rochester, get your shit together.
His smirk returned. Cocky bastard.
I waved my hand at him. “We’re done here. Get with Fairfax if you haven’t already. He’ll give you pointers on how I like my day run.”
“He gave me a crash course last week, so I intend to hit the ground running.” He gave another perfunctory nod before turning to leave. He was a good dresser, his medium gray suit hitting him in all the right places. It helped that he had a stunning body: broad back, narrow waist, and long legs.
The only thing that gave away his humble beginnings was his accent. It was faint, barely noticeable. Still, I could detect a certain local dialect—one frowned upon in the Rochester family social circles. He must have taken pains to erase it, to make himself sound as if he came from one of the more affluent suburbs, like Homewood where his godmother lived. Little things like that would be of no moment to the average ear, but a born-and-raised snob like myself could hear it right off, even if I didn’t ascribe any import to it. That was more of an old guard issue; one that I hoped would die off.
Still, he was definitely different. Not in the color of his skin or his accent, but in his bearing, his confidence. He was not what I expected to find in my newest assistant. I stared at the frosted glass doors long after he was out of view. This was going to be an interesting month.
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Dark Romance by Celia Aaron
SINCLAIR
The Acquisition Series, Prologue
Sinclair Vinemont, an impeccable parish prosecutor, conducts his duties the same way he conducts his life--every move calculated, every outcome assured. When he sees something he wants, he takes it. When he finds a hint of weakness, he capitalizes. But what happens when he sees Stella Rousseau for the very first time?
COUNSELLOR
The Acquisition Series, Book 1
In the heart of Louisiana, the most powerful people in the South live behind elegant gates, mossy trees, and pleasant masks. Once every ten years, the pretense falls away and a tournament is held to determine who will rule them. The Acquisition is a crucible for the Southern nobility, a love letter written to a time when barbarism was enshrined as law.
Now, Sinclair Vinemont is in the running to claim the prize. There is only one way to win, and he has the key to do it—Stella Rousseau, his Acquisition. To save her father, Stella has agreed to become Sinclair’s slave for one year. Though she is at the mercy of the cold, treacherous Vinemont, Stella will not go willingly into darkness.
As Sinclair and Stella battle against each other and the clock, only one thing is certain: The Acquisition always ends in blood.
MAGNATE
The Acquisition Series, Book 2
Lucius Vinemont has spirited me away to a world of sugar cane and sun. There is nothing he cannot give me on his lavish Cuban plantation. Each gift seduces me, each touch seals my fate. There is no more talk of depraved competitions or his older brother – the one who’d stolen me, claimed me, and made me feel things I never should have. Even as Lucius works to make me forget Sinclair, my thoughts stray back to him, to the dark blue eyes that haunt my sweetest dreams and bitterest nightmares. Just like every dream, this one must end. Christmas will soon be here, and with it, the second trial of the Acquisition.
SOVEREIGN
The Acquisition Series, Book 3
The Acquisition has ruled my life, ruled my every waking moment since Sinclair Vinemont first showed up at my house offering an infernal bargain to save my father’s life. Now I know the stakes. The charade is at an end, and Sinclair has far more to lose than I ever did. But this knowledge hasn’t strengthened me. Instead, each revelation breaks me down until nothing is left but my fight and my rage. As I struggle to survive, only one question remains. How far will I go to save those I love and burn the Acquisition to the ground?
Short Sexy Reads by Celia Aaron
A Stepbrother for Christmas
The Hard and Dirty Holidays
Annalise dreads seeing her stepbrother at her family’s Christmas get-together. Niles had a
lways been so nasty, tormenting her in high school after their parents had gotten married. British and snobby, Niles did everything he could to hurt Annalise when they were younger. Now, Annalise hasn’t seen Niles in three years; he’s been away at school in England and Annalise has started her pre-med program in Dallas. When they reconnect, dark memories threaten, sparks fly, and they give true meaning to the “hard and dirty holidays.”
Bad Boy Valentine
The Hard and Dirty Holidays
Jess has always been shy. Keeping her head down and staying out of sight have served her well, especially when a sexy photographer moves in across the hall from her. Michael has a budding career, a dark past, and enough ink and piercings to make Jess’ mouth water. She is well equipped to watched him through her peephole and stalk him on social media. But what happens when the bad boy next door comes knocking?
Bad Boy Valentine Wedding
The Hard and Dirty Holidays
Jess and Michael have been engaged for three years, waiting patiently for Jess to finish law school before taking the next step in their relationship. As the wedding date approaches, their dedication to each other only grows, but outside forces seek to tear them apart. The bad boy will have to fight to keep his bride and Jess will have to trust him with her whole heart to make their happy ending a reality.
F*ck of the Irish
The Hard and Dirty Holidays
Eamon is my crush, the one guy I can’t stop thinking about. His Irish accent, toned body, and sparkling eyes captivated me the second I saw him. But since he slept with my roommate, who claims she still loves him, he’s been off limits. Despite my prohibition on dating him, he has other other ideas. Resisting him is the key to keeping my roommate happy, but giving in may bring me more pleasure than I ever imagined.