by Cooper, Lynn
Michael furrowed his brow at his boss. Confusion played across his face. “What the hell’s going on here? Why wouldn’t her name be important?”
Rhein shook his head. “Do you see what I mean? More back talk. Insolence. Insubordination. I will not have it.” He turned on his heel. “I need coffee. When I get back, she better be gone.”
Again, Jaslyn started to stand. Again, Michael motioned for her to sit back down.
“Miss Scarpa, you’ll have to excuse Rhein’s—Mr. Birkner’s behavior. He’s under a great deal of stress at the moment.”
She nodded. “I assume much of it has to do with Sahara. I noticed the flashes of pain in his eyes when you mentioned her.”
“Yes, she’s very ill.”
“I figured as much. Most of my assignments involve covering for those on medical leave. Beth at Woman-Power said this job was to last six weeks. Is that still the case?”
“No. There’s a very real possibility your assignment could be indefinite. Without a miracle, Sahara will die. Soon.”
Jaslyn gasped. “Oh. I’m so sorry. No wonder Mr. Birkner is so upset. Has she been his employee for very long?”
A sad smile formed at the corners of his mouth. “She’s not just an employee. She wears many hats, only one of which is administrative assistant. Sahara Birkner holds fifty-percent ownership of Zena Starkler and one-hundred percent of Rhein’s heart.”
Jaslyn’s shoulders slumped under the weight of his words. Her emotions were all jumbled. Her heart was breaking for the CEO and, selfishly for herself. Earlier, for a few brief moments, she had been positive he was flirting with her. Had she been so desperate as to imagine his eyes adoring her breasts and the heated inflections of his voice?
That was likely the case. If the woman he loved was dying, he certainly wouldn’t be engaging in unseemly behavior. It was all in Jaslyn’s head. Wishful thinking for sure. She hadn’t been on a date in over two years, not since her breakup with Eric. The two-timing asshole had really worked a number on her. Even though she hadn’t let the incident make her bitter, it had made her a tad more distrustful.
Forcing herself to focus on the present, she said, “I understand. If Mr. Birkner is willing to give me another chance, I’ll do my very best for him and this company.”
“Thank you, Miss Scarpa,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. “In addition to the temp agency’s fee, I’m going to have Human Resources invoice an additional bonus. It will be paid to you personally.”
“You don’t have to do that. My regular pay will be enough.”
“No. It won’t. Trust me. Now I must have a word with Bree. I want to make sure your work station is set up, your laptop is booted up and you have a healthy supply of pens and pads at your disposal,” he said, winking. “While I take care of those things, why don’t you take a break? Have yourself a beverage and a snack.”
RHEIN RUBBED THE BACK of his neck. His muscles stayed bunched in clumps of perpetual knots. He no longer knew the meaning of relaxation. His body was constantly coiled, ready to strike. Every minute Sahara lay in a hospital bed, hooked to a dialysis machine, was one more minute he couldn’t breathe. In his book, money could buy a lot of things, even happiness. What it couldn’t buy was a six-antigen match—the HLA tissue typing needed for one fucking kidney. The one that could keep the most important woman in the world alive and a part of his life.
Sahara had been on a transplant waiting list for nearly three years, and still no compatible kidney had been found. He was at the end of his hope-rope. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed was a beaming cheerleader, shaking her pom-poms in his face. Where did these temp agencies find their employees these days? At Chuckie Cheese? What happened to the administrative assistants of old? The no-nonsense, glasses-hanging-around-the-neck-on-a-lanyard, hairbun-knotted-at-the-nape-of-the-neck secretaries? That’s what he needed. That and another cup of coffee.
Gulping the hot liquid, he relished the scalding, burning sensation on his tongue and in his throat. These days he actively looked for ways to reroute the pain from his heart. He couldn’t imagine life without his sister, Sahara. She was the only family he had left. She was the reason he started this company. The reason they left Berlin, Germany for a shot at the American Dream. The reason he got up in the morning. The reason he did anything.
Setting his cup down on a saucer, he slowly turned around, sensing the temp before he saw her. Taking her in, he couldn’t help but notice how the long, silky hair adorning her pretty, oval face had come loose from its pink ribbon. Now it cascaded like a river over her slender shoulders. The thick wavy strands were so black, they were almost blue. He had only seen that particular shade one other time—in the mirror. He hadn’t thought much about it before. But now, he longed to weave his fingers through it. To grip those lovely locks in his fists. To force her head back and kiss her breathless.
Back in his office, it was her full, rose-colored lips, her perky breasts with their pebbled nipples straining against a form-fitting pink blouse that had distracted him to the point of madness.
He watched her step inside the breakroom, noting the fidgeting of her fingers. She was twisting them in the fabric of her hip-hugging pencil skirt. A very flattering cut that accentuated her long, shapely legs. He wondered if they were weak and trembling as she pressed her low back against the countertop, visibly resting her weight there. “Miss Scarpa, you are still here. I can see I need to fire Michael.”
“I can see you remembered my name,” she said, daring to smile at him.
Hardness glinted his eyes. “Yes, Jaslyn. Yours is not one I will likely forget. It is a very important name, or so Michael seems to think.”
His tone was mocking her, but he could see she wasn’t going to take the bait.
“Speaking of Michael, please don’t fire him. I apologize for being blunt, but I know you need me. He told me about Sahara. I’m happy to help you in any way I can.”
He stepped in front of her, leaving no room for her to move. He was so close his chest lightly brushed her breasts. Placing his palms on the counter on either side of her, he lowered his head to her neck and inhaled deeply. He whispered in her ear, “It is my turn to sniff you. Hmmm, you smell like green apples and rain.”
She stammered, “It—it’s my shampoo.”
“I beg to differ.” His lips softly grazed the column of her throat. “I think it is you. Your creamy skin. Your warm breath.”
He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. “Michael is wrong. I do not need you.” Pressing his body hard against hers, he reached around behind them and grabbed something off the countertop. Showing it to her, he said, “All I need are these and another cup of coffee.”
The candy dish was swallowed up by his huge hand. It was filled with lovely German Chocolate truffles.
The expression on her face thrilled him. He could almost see her mouth water. The sweet, rich aroma of the decadent candy infused the air. He held the dish in one hand and reached for his coffee with the other. He offered her the cup. “Drink,” he commanded.
He felt her hand shake when his fingers brushed hers, his lower body still pinning her to the counter.
The second the strongly-brewed, hot liquid touched her tongue, she spewed it out all over his chest, soaking the front of his suit.
“Yuck! Why would anyone drink something so vile and bitter?”
He glanced down at his coffee-covered clothes. For an instant, he felt rage mixed with lingering desire. Instead of bellowing and ranting, he spoke as softly as a feather floating on a breeze. “So they can eat this.” Carefully, he chose a piece of chocolate and gently smeared its silky, smoothness across her bottom lip. The heat from the coffee had warmed her mouth, causing the candy to melt on contact.
He sucked in a sharp breath when her tongue darted out to lick away the sweetness. With her lips parted, he pushed the remaining piece into her mouth. A bolt of electricity shot through his cock when she closed her lips around his fi
nger.
“Oh God, Mr. Birkner, this is the best chocolate I’ve ever tasted,” she moaned, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back.
Impulsively, he placed his hand behind her neck, supporting and cradling it while she ate. The look on her face was utterly orgasmic. He knew it was ridiculous for a man to be jealous of a piece of candy. But, at that moment, he was. He wanted to be the reason she moaned and licked her lips in pleasure.
When she opened her eyes, he removed his hand from her nape and stepped away from her.
“We are done here. I have had enough of you for one day.”
She looked as if she had been slapped. When she turned to walk away, he caught her by the arm and spun her back around. “Michael was right about one thing. I could use an administrative assistant. If you are still interested, be in my office tomorrow morning. Eight o’clock sharp with pad and pen in hand.”
He chuckled when she didn’t respond and, instead, tried to jerk free. Her attempt was futile. He tightened his grasp. “Do you understand what I want from you, Miss Scarpa?”
“Sadly, I think I’m starting to. I told Michael I’d stay and help, but I didn’t agree to be your truffle on the side. How could you behave this way when your wife is dying? Bree was right. You are a Nazi!”
Confusion clouded his mind for a split second. Then it dawned on him. When Michael spilled the beans about Sahara, this bright-eyed temp naturally romanticized it. She had jumped to the wrong conclusion, assuming he was Sahara’s husband instead of her brother.
It was just another in a long line of mistakes the hot little temp had made that morning. Given his dark mood, he was hell-bent on teaching her a lesson. Slamming the breakroom door, he pushed her back up against it. He barely recognized the sound of his own voice. It seemed to come from somewhere far away. “No, Jaslyn. I am not a Nazi. That would be my great-grandfather, Armin Birkner. During World WarII, he was a high-ranking officer in Hitler’s Third Reich. He took great pleasure in annihilating your people. Scarpa—it is a Jewish name, is it not?”
He didn’t think it was possible, but her fair skin turned an even lighter shade of pale. Her breath was coming in short spurts, tickling his neck. A faint sheen of perspiration covered her upper lip. Damn it! He wanted to make her pant and sweat but not out of fear. However, there was a part of him that wanted to make her pay for making such horrible assumptions about him. Despite her obvious discomfort and the fact he was causing it, he pressed on. “Unlike my great grandfather, I am not the least bit interested in the extermination of your race. On the contrary, I would very much enjoy propagating it. Some day.”
Her body shuddered against his.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Birkner, but I won’t be able to complete this assignment after all.”
A roiling nausea permeated his gut. He had pushed this young woman too far. Knowing he had royally fucked up, he stepped to the side and let her leave.
HOW IN THE WORLD had this day gotten so far out of kilter? Only a few hours ago, life had been raindrops on roses and bright-colored mittens. Now, it was urine on toadstools and turds in a punch bowl. Her knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel, and she felt like she couldn’t get a deep breath. Never in her twenty-five years had she encountered a more infuriating man than Rhein Birkner. Sure he was tall, dark—so dangerously dark—and handsome. One minute he made her feel desirable, the next terrified and angry. But none of that mattered. She had to put him out of her mind. He belonged to another, and Jaslyn had no business thinking about him at all. Besides, she had walked out on him and the assignment at Zena Starkler. It was the right thing to do. She wouldn’t be seeing the moody, sexy CEO ever again.
She wasn’t looking forward to sharing this news with her roommate. Kitsy was forever accusing her of being an empath, telling her she felt things too deeply. Maybe she was right. Perhaps it was time for Jaslyn to stop internalizing every little feeling that flitted by. She blew out a cleansing breath. Life would be so much simpler if human beings weren’t involved.
Pulling into the drive, she frowned. Kitsy’s car was still sitting where it had been that morning when Jaslyn left for work. Her roommate was a computer game programmer and worked from home, but she never missed her eleven o’clock kickboxing class at the YMCA. Exercise was her religion.
Feeling panicked, Jaslyn quickly jumped out of the car and ran to the front door. It was slightly ajar. With her heart clawing her ribcage, she tried to open it, but the door wouldn’t budge: something was blocking it.
“Kitsy! You okay in there?”
The answer came in the form of a strangled moan.
Jerking her phone out of her pocket, Jaslyn called for help.
“9-1-1, what is the nature of your emergency?”
“There’s something wrong with my roommate! Can you please send an ambulance to 1871 Balinger Road?”
Jaslyn was trembling. Her mouth felt dry. Her palms were sweaty. She couldn’t imagine life without her best friend.
“I’m dispatching EMTs to your location. Is your roommate conscious?”
“Yes, I can hear her groaning but can’t get to her. I think her body might be blocking the front door. Oh God, please tell them to hurry!”
“Try to stay calm. Help should be there soon. Are there any other entrances to the house?”
“No. It’s tiny. We only have the one door. We have windows big enough to crawl through. I should bust out a window!”
“Don’t do that. The last thing you want is to get injured yourself. The emergency workers will be able to safely enter and get your friend out. What’s your name, sweetie?”
“Jaslyn.”
“Okay, Jaslyn, you’re doing fine. I’ve just checked our GPS, and the ambulance is less than a quarter of a mile out. You should be able to hear the sirens now.”
“Yes! I hear them! Oh, good. I see them, too. Thank you!”
Jaslyn was so happy to see the cavalry that she disconnected the call without hearing the operator’s final response.
Jaslyn watched in amazement as the EMT workers deftly and quickly removed the hinges from the door and slid it right past Kitsy’s crumpled body. She was writhing in pain. Her skin was chalky white, and her hair was soaked with sweat.
One of the paramedics pressed on her abdomen to the lower right of her navel. When he did, Kitsy let out a blood-curdling scream.
Jaslyn grabbed his shirt sleeve. “What’s wrong with her?”
“It looks like acute appendicitis. We’ve got to get her to the hospital before her appendix bursts.”
In a flash, they had placed Kitsy on a gurney and loaded her into the back of the ambulance. Before the EMT could close the doors, Jaslyn hopped in and knelt beside her best friend. Taking Kitsy’s cold, clammy hand she whispered, “Everything’s going to be fine.”
In a matter of minutes, the ambulance driver careened into the hospital parking lot, screeching to a halt in front of the emergency room entrance.
Jaslyn found herself being shoved to the side as a flurry of nurses and the ER doctor bustled about. In all the commotion, she was able to deduce that Kitsy was being rushed into surgery for an emergency appendectomy.
As Jaslyn watched them disappear through a set of double doors, she felt utterly despondent and alone. Feelings she had never experienced before. They were unwelcome to say the least.
RHEIN HATED ENTERING THE hospital through the emergency room, but the other parking lots were slam full. If he didn’t come in this way, he’d have to leave his car in the parking garage across the street. Then make his way through the crosswalk tunnel connected to the main floor of the cardiac unit. Although the tunnel walls were made of glass, he still felt claustrophobic within its confines. Plus, it was out of the way. Sahara’s room was two floors down on the opposite side of the building. The ER was the most expedient route.
The automatic doors yawned opened and, immediately, the pungent odor of disinfectant assaulted his nose. No matter how many days, weeks and months he had
spent here visiting his sister, he never got used to that hospital smell. Only today, the faintest hint of green apples and rain tickled his olfactory. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he caught a glimpse of the temp. Only an hour ago, he thought he would never set eyes on the raven-haired beauty again. But there she was, nervously pacing the ER waiting room, wringing her dainty hands together. Obvious worry wrinkled her brow, but she looked even sexier than she had this morning with her back pressed against the breakroom door.
Walking toward her, he softly called out her name. “Jaslyn.”
Despite his best efforts not to startle her, she whipped around too quickly, losing her balance. He couldn’t help but chuckle as, once again, she fell head-first into his chest.
Gently, he righted her and asked, “Are you okay?”
A smile continued dancing at the corners of his mouth while she quickly smoothed her hair into place. His chest tightened when her delicate hands fluttered over her blouse and down her black, hip-hugging skirt. At that moment, he decided her feminine ensemble was the most flattering he had ever seen. In her case, it wasn’t the clothes that made the woman but most definitely the other way around.
“I’m perfectly fine.”
“You do not look fine. You look distraught.”
She also looked absolutely gorgeous, and it was all he could do to hold his body in check.
When she didn’t respond to his observation, he pressed a little harder. “It has been my experience that people do not just hang out in the emergency room for fun. Why are you here, Jaslyn?”
“My roommate Kitsy. She’s having an emergency appendectomy.”
The tears pooling at the corners of her beautiful blue eyes, tore at his heart.
He placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Try not to worry. Kitsy is in good hands. She will be fine.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” she said, sniffling.
“No, but I do not offer assurances lightly. When you have spent as much time in this hospital as I have, you pick up on a few things.”