Book Read Free

Love Accidental

Page 4

by Tia Siren


  As I hung up, I looked at Kendall Adams, waiting to see if she would back out. She defiantly stared back at me.

  “All right, I need someone to start immediately. Gena is getting the paperwork side of things handled. I want it done today and you ready to work first thing in the morning. I’ll have a car pick you up this afternoon and take you to my place.”

  Her eyes bulged. “What? Tonight? You want me to start tonight?”

  Bingo! I finally got the reaction I’d been looking for.

  “Is that a problem? If it is, this isn’t going to work. I’ve got a tight schedule and no PA.”

  Which reminded me that I needed to fire James ASAP.

  “Oh no, it’s fine,” she said with a smile, quickly regaining her cool.

  “Perfect. You can head out and stop by Gena’s desk. She’ll give you directions to HR. Where should I send the car to pick you up?”

  I bit back a smile when I saw the look of unease on her face. She didn’t want me to know where she lived. I loved putting her on edge.

  “Why don’t you give me your address and I’ll have a cab drop me off once I’ve packed a few things,” she countered. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble,” she cooed.

  I’d give her this one small win. She wasn’t going to get many going up against me. I quickly jotted down the address of my penthouse. I wasn’t about to take her to my home. I stood and walked around the desk, my eyes holding hers as I walked close to where she was sitting, feeling a bit like a big cat stalking his prey.

  When she stood up, I didn’t back up. I wanted to invade her personal space and keep her off guard. My tactics were lost on her though. She didn’t seem the least bit disturbed by the proximity to my much larger body. She stared right back at me, her face only inches from mine. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. I knew what she thought was going to happen. My eyes dropped to her lips. Her tongue darted out, licking them, tempting me with the motion.

  “Here,” I said, putting the piece of paper between us and stepping away.

  With my back to her, I smirked, knowing I had led her down the wrong road. It served her right. She thought she could waltz into my life, shake her ass, and I would fall at her feet, spilling all my secrets for her to run back and tell her daddy. No woman was that good in bed.

  “Thank you, Mr. Parks,” she said, emphasizing my name. “You won’t be disappointed. I’m everything you need, and I promise to be the best you’ve had.”

  I turned to look at her, catching the sly smile crossing her lips.

  “PA, that is,” she added coyly.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  I watched her walk away, her hips sashaying, her fine, pert ass beautifully cupped in the tight skirt. No panty lines. Was it a thong or was she going commando? I had a feeling it was the latter. She had come into my office to seduce me. She had probably expected me to make a move. I wasn’t quite so predictable. She’d learn.

  Sitting down at my desk, I opened my laptop to do a little digging into Scott Adams. Something was up. I wasn’t sure what her end game was, so I needed to arm myself with as much information as possible. Scott Adams and his beautiful daughter were not going to get one over on me. I was letting her in because I believed in keeping my friends close and my enemies closer.

  Kendall was an enemy, of that I was sure. The sexual chemistry between us was hot, but I could ignore it. I would use it to my advantage, let her think she had me on the hook. Once I figured out her game, I’d play my hand.

  Chapter Six

  Kendall

  Thursday night

  I decided I wasn’t going to tell my dad about the Dylan situation—yet. I wanted to see how this first night went before I celebrated landing the job. I hated to admit it, but I was actually looking forward to this job with my father’s nemesis. I loved the way he sparred with me. It had been a long time since I’d met a man who could give me that kind of excitement. He was extremely attractive and that was definitely a perk.

  With one last look around my apartment, I wheeled my suitcase out the door, locking it behind me. There was no way he could discover where I lived, right? Though I could always make up an excuse or claim to be a trust fund kid if he happened to find out.

  Getting in the waiting cab, I sent up a silent prayer to whatever God was up there. This whole charade had to work. I was only taking a couple bags. If this thing blew up in my face, I didn’t want to have to pack up a bunch of stuff or risk leaving one of my favorite pairs of shoes behind. That would be the true tragedy of the fiasco.

  “Miss Baker?” a young man asked as I wheeled my bags into the lobby of the building.

  “Yes?”

  “Mr. Parks asked me to assist you with your bags. Are the rest in the cab?”

  “No. This is it.”

  “Okay. I’ll be happy to take this up to the penthouse for you,” he said, leading the way to the elevator.

  He swiped a key card and the elevator began to ascend. Nerves jumped around in my belly. I was excited to see where he lived, his lair where he did all kinds of nefarious things. My father loathed him, insisting he was the worst kind of human. In my imagination, I pictured him living in a dark home, the walls painted black and everything dingy.

  When the doors slid open to an ornate hallway with lots of white and a table in the center with a huge arrangement of colorful fresh flowers, I was shocked.

  “This way,” the young man said, strolling over the marble floor toward a set of double doors.

  We walked through the doors, and once again, I was pleasantly surprised. It was all very bright and airy. A little on the sterile side with all the white, but it worked.

  “He told me to show you to the spare bedroom. He’ll be with you shortly.”

  The man opened another door and led me into a bedroom bigger than the one in my own luxury apartment. It was outfitted in blues and silvers.

  “Thank you,” I said, still trying to take everything in as the man turned and left.

  I wandered around the room and checked the adjoining bathroom before checking out the view from my window. My dad would have been green with envy if he saw this place. It was gorgeous.

  “I hope the accommodations are acceptable?”

  His voice snapped me out of my daydreaming. I spun around to see him leaning against the doorframe.

  “They’re perfect. Everything is—well, stunning,” I said, looking him up and down before meeting his eyes.

  “Dinner will be served in about thirty minutes.”

  “Fine. Do you have a map?” I teased.

  “I’ll be back to escort you. You’ll learn the layout of the place soon enough. I have a call to make. I’ll be back in half an hour,” he said before walking away.

  I used the time to unpack my suitcase and put my personal toiletries in the bathroom. The more I looked at the blue color scheme of the room, the more in love with it I fell. When I was done with this whole thing, I might have been doing some redecorating at my place.

  “Are you ready?” His voice floated into the room. Once again, he was in the doorway.

  “I am.”

  Trying to stay on his heels, I followed him down the hall, through a sitting room, and into a formal dining room. I wanted to ask him how many square feet the penthouse was but figured that would be rude. I was guessing it had to be at least four-thousand square feet.

  “Wow!” I exclaimed as we entered the dining room that was set for two, complete with candles burning and fancy china place settings.

  He shrugged a shoulder. “My private chef enjoys putting on a show. He says I don’t eat in often enough. So when I do, he likes to go big. I imagine he’s made something extravagant to try to impress us.”

  Dylan pulled out a chair. I took my seat, feeling a little like we were on a first date.

  “You know, you didn’t really need to go to all this trouble. I could have ordered takeout.”

  He took his seat. “This is a working dinn
er. I work a lot, which is why you’re here.”

  His voice was stern and almost cold.

  “Good to know.”

  “It’s what you signed on for. You said you were ready for the job.”

  A middle-aged man strolled in carrying two plates filled with fat, juicy steaks and baked potatoes. My stomach growled at the sight of the gourmet meal.

  “I’m ready for anything.”

  “Good,” he said, picking up his knife and fork and immediately sawing into his steak. “I’m working on getting a foundation started along with a handful of charities. We have a new product launching early next week, which will require a great deal of time and energy over the coming days.”

  “A new product? What is it?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “I also have meetings booked back-to-back tomorrow. Saturday night is another working dinner. I’ll expect you to attend.”

  “When exactly am I off?” I questioned, a little irritated by him monopolizing every minute of my weekend. I remembered what he had said about working seven days a week, but at the time I’d thought he was exaggerating.

  His wine glass was halfway to his mouth when he stopped and looked at me. “Off?”

  “Yes, like free to run my own errands and do as I please.”

  He smirked. “I don’t mind you running errands on my time, assuming those errands don’t include you dating men or whatnot.”

  “That’s not an issue.”

  He drank from his glass. I watched his throat work and immediately wanted to run my tongue over that expanse of skin.

  “You don’t have a boyfriend?”

  “No. Is your girlfriend going to be jealous? I mean, you did just move me into your home and all.”

  “No girlfriend. This is only one of my homes.”

  I chuckled. “Ah, you have a woman waiting for you at each of your homes.”

  He shrugged again. “Something like that. What about your family? Will they miss you if you skip family dinners and things like that because I have you working on other things?”

  His line of questioning was a mild interrogation. “My family understands how important this job is to me and will support me in whatever I do. How does your family feel about you working so much?”

  I saw him jerk and knew I had hit a sensitive spot. “I don’t have any family.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “It isn’t a big deal. I’ve been on my own for a long time.” He didn’t sound sad, but I sensed it was a sensitive subject.

  “My mom died when I was three,” I blurted out, instantly regretting my confession.

  He looked at me, and for a brief moment, I got a flash of the man behind the billion-dollar empire.

  “I never knew my father. My mom passed away when I was twelve. Breast cancer,” he said.

  I winced, feeling that familiar pain of losing my mother even though I didn’t really remember much about her.

  “Were you in foster care? Or did you have family to raise you?” I asked.

  “My grandmother tried to take care of me, but I wasn’t a very good boy. I was in trouble a lot. She gave up on me, gave me up, and into the system I went. It’s a wonder I’m not incarcerated,” he said with a smirk.

  I bit back my retort. My father was convinced he belonged in prison. I had a feeling Dylan had some dark secrets. His connections made at an early age were probably what had helped make him so rich so early in life.

  The conversation had led us into unsexy territory. I wasn’t used to feelings and emotions, preferring to keep things on the surface, and he had just taken me deeper than I was comfortable with. I had no idea why I had told him about my mother, but it was time to steer things back to familiar territory. I needed to capitalize on the sexual tension between us. No more of the wishy-washy stuff.

  “I’m glad you’re not in prison. You are way too good looking. You’d definitely be somebody’s bitch,” I said with a wink.

  He actually laughed out loud. “I’d hate to have that happen. I prefer to be the dominant one in a relationship.”

  “I can see that, you all alpha and demanding,” I said, my voice harsher than I’d intended.

  The sexual energy in the room was making it difficult to breathe.

  His eyes were burning into mine. “I know what I like, and I am pretty good at knowing what my partner likes as well.”

  I nodded, completely believing him. “Good to know. So, what time are we going into work tomorrow?” I asked, veering away from the intensity of that particular subject.

  It was either too hot or too cold with him. There was no in between, no middle ground. I either wanted to jump on the man and ride him until I couldn’t move another second or throw his ass in prison.

  “I like to go in early, around seven,” he mumbled, snapping my attention away from the thought of climbing on top of him.

  I winced. “Okay.”

  “Is that too early?” He seemed amused.

  “Nope. I’ll be ready. I’m excited. I’m can’t wait to spend every waking minute with you, watching you, being near you and learning from you.”

  He didn’t respond. I could feel the sexual tension jumping and wasn’t sure how to handle it. In his office, there was a modicum of protection. I wasn’t worried about anything happening when there was a chance of someone coming in and catching him screwing the help. But here, we were completely alone, minus the chef and whatever other staff might be milling about. Beds were easily accessible. There was nothing to stop him. Or me. Maybe I was the predator in this little scenario.

  “You’re smiling.” His eyes dropped to my mouth, his voice low.

  I smiled bigger. “I was just thinking.”

  “What were you thinking about?”

  His eyes moved up to meet mine. “Dangerous, daring things,” I replied, looking directly at him and not flinching a bit.

  “Be careful what you wish for,” he warned.

  Neither of us moved. It was as if a gauntlet had been thrown down. Who would pick it up?

  “I should get settled in. We have an early day tomorrow.” I quickly stood, pushing my chair back with the motion, and essentially fled the room.

  I wasn’t quite ready to go DEFCON one on the man. Sex was my secret weapon. I didn’t want to pull that out until it became clear it was the only option. Deep down, I knew I was a bit too eager to jump into bed with him. My father would never forgive me if he knew I had slept with the enemy.

  Of course, he didn’t have to find out.

  Chapter Seven

  Dylan

  Friday

  She knew she was hot and was working it. I was innocently drinking my coffee at the small breakfast nook when she strolled in wearing a pair of shorts that barely covered her ass. When she bent over to pick up some invisible something that had fallen to the ground, giving me confirmation she wasn’t wearing panties, I knew she was trying to seduce me.

  I damn near fucked her right there on the long center island that stretched across the kitchen.

  “Oh, I didn’t see you there,” she said with fake surprise when I cleared my throat.

  “I’m pretty hard to miss,” I said dryly.

  Pouring herself a cup of coffee, she turned. “I’m going to take this in my room while I finish dressing.”

  I looked over the tiny satin tank and the itty-bitty shorts she was wearing. “Finish dressing? I wasn’t aware you had started.”

  That made her giggle. As she padded out of the kitchen on bare feet, I watched her go. The woman was built. Her legs were toned but not overly muscular. I could imagine them wrapped around me as I fucked her hard and fast.

  She was a temptress, but I was stronger than that. I wasn’t so easily played by a hot body, a pretty face, and a mouth that promised all kinds of wicked pleasure.

  It wasn’t long before I was pacing the front foyer, waiting for my new PA to get her ass in gear. When the door opened and she sashayed into the foyer, I had to fight back the erection that threatene
d to make a tent in my slacks.

  Fuck me, she was undeniably gorgeous. Her hair was half up and half down, falling around her face in pretty waves. The jacket she was wearing made me wonder if she was wearing anything underneath. The deep V gave a hint of cleavage, suggesting she was bare.

  She was smiling as she took long, purposeful strides toward me in heels that looked dangerous. “I’m ready.”

  I nodded my head and fought the urge to lick my lips. “Yes, you are.”

  We walked out together, my mind hyper-focused on sex. When the elevator doors closed, her perfume wafted around the small box. It was intoxicating in the best way. I wanted to slam her against the elevator wall and take full inventory of what she may or may not have been wearing.

  By the time we climbed into the back of the waiting limo, I was extremely overheated. I cracked a window, needing fresh air. Desire was a powerful thing, and I was losing. I needed to get some distance between us or I was going to take her. I knew she’d let me. Hell, it was what she wanted. But I would not give in.

  Together, we strolled toward my office.

  “Will I be in here with you all day?” she asked.

  “Most of the time. There is a small office reserved for my PA. I’ll have Gena show you to it.”

  “Or you could,” she said with a playful smile.

  I shot her a glare. “I need to check a few things. Be back in fifteen minutes.”

  She looked surprised by my gruffness. Good. She probably thought she was going to have me panting after her all day. I wasn’t that easy.

  Once she was out of sight, I took a few minutes to get my libido under control. Everything about her made me think of sex. An idea popped into my head. One time. That was all I needed. One time to satisfy the craving for the woman. Then, I could focus on figuring out why she was clinging to me.

  “No,” I said into the empty room. “Don’t even think about it.”

  A gentle tap on the door told me the source of my frustration was back. I yanked it open and gestured for her to sit down on the couch on the far side of the room. She took a seat, her skirt so short and tight she couldn’t properly cross her legs. Instead, she sat like a member of royalty, her knees pressed together and slanted to one side. It was the sexiest fucking thing I had seen in a long time.

 

‹ Prev