Seduction in a Suit
an Office Romance Collection
Seduction in a Suit is a Multi-Author Bundle, Copyright © 2018 by Monica Corwin.
All individual titles copyrighted by the individual authors. Published February, 2018 by Monica Corwin.
Cover Art Design 2018 by Covers by Combs
All rights reserved.
Ebook Edition.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Seduction in a Suit
Eva Winters
Conflict of Interest
Taige Crenshaw and McKenna Jeffries
Just Business: Rowan
Quinn
Miss Chief
Brandy Ayers
Taking Over
Lynda Kaye Frazier
Second Hand Lace
Leigh W. Stuart
Heating Up the Help Desk
N.D. Jones
The Perks of Higher Ed
Holly Ryan
Bound to the Boss
Janae Keyes
Protection: Codes of Conduct
Nicole Morgan
Contractual Obligation
Ju Ephraime
Controlled By Love
Liz Gavin
Three CEOs for Valentine’s
Jewel Killian
Office Hours
Cassie Leigh
Business Casual
Leona Bushman
To Have and to Serve
Camille Oster
Claiming the East
Khardine Gray
Mail Room Delight
Lexi Greene
The Scarlet Letter of the Law
Aliyah Burke
Tryst With the CEO
N.R. Larry
Phantom of the Office
Monica Corwin
Kiss and Tell
Seduction in a Suit
Do you prefer the boardroom or the bedroom?
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How about both?
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This sizzling anthology of twenty-one contemporary romances from today’s New York Times, USA Today, and International bestselling authors will give you bureaucrats, bosses, and billionaires to fall in love with.
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Inside these pages, you’ll find everything from sexy first encounters in the office, to steamy secretary interactions, and of course all kinds of action on various flat surfaces.
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No matter what you prefer in your office romance, this limited edition anthology is packed with exclusive, novella-length titles, to send you back to work.
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Get ready to fall in love with work again. Seduction in a Suit will take you there.
Conflict of Interest
A Contemporary Billionaire Romance Suspense Novelette
Eva Winters
Conflict of Interest
Copyright © 2018 by Eva Winters for InPrint Publishing
All rights reserved.
The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblances to real individuals are not intended by the author.
Editor: Meg Amor
Cover Designer: QDesign
Conflict of Interest
An illicit affair fueled by lies and deceit.
* * *
I wanted to climb the corporate ladder and if it meant getting down and dirty, I had no problem doing it.
* * *
The details of my assignment were clear—go in and spy on the competition. But then, a new opportunity presented itself, one with much better benefits, one that would allow me to carry out my plan for revenge. It was an offer too good to pass up and so, I didn’t.
* * *
There was just one problem, I hadn’t prepared myself for what lied ahead.
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Find out just how dangerous the corporate world can be when lines are crossed and loyalties are tested.
Dedicated to my readers. You who make it possible for me to do what I love. For your support, I’m sincerely grateful.
Prologue
My mother’s anguish became mine at the age of seven. That’s around the time when my father stopped coming home for dinner. Soon afterward, she started to drink. It seemed to help for a while but then, it stopped working as well.
I remember specifically this one evening, looking out the window as thunder lit up from behind the gray clouds. It was only five o’clock, yet darkness had taken over the skies making it appear to be much later. I saw him, my father, entering the neighbor’s back door. My heart pounded against my chest like someone hitting against djembe drums. Jessica, my babysitter, a senior in high school, had answered the door wearing lingerie. Even before the door shut, he’d removed his tie and they started to kiss. I knew then, my father was a bad guy.
Ten years later, things are still the same, and maybe—worse.
I’m drawn back to my childhood, when my imagination would take me to places away from home and beyond reality. The singing birds, blooming flowers, whispering waves brushing against the shorelines, while an array of warm, mesmerizing colors beam down upon the ripples, offers temporary solitude.
Sure, it’s an illusion, an existence with a fairy tale beginning and ending. But in those moments, that’s what I see when I close my eyes. It’s short-lived and blocking it all out is nearly impossible. The soft wailing coming from the other room is getting louder, probably because I’ve been absorbed in my own silence far too long. Only now am I drawn back to what’s real.
Stop it already! I want to yell from the top of my lungs. While she’s hoping and praying he comes back, all I want is for him to stay gone forever. Wishful thinking won’t help anyone, but this shit has got to end at some point. Why delay it any longer?
He’ll come stumbling along, in a drunken stupor soon enough. Then, with the crying, will come arguing, door slamming, and then cold silence. It’s a routine I know all too well.
And as expected, it happens. I know it’s him because he’s talking on his cell phone loudly. Did he just say baby? If I heard it, I’m sure my mother did as well. I hate him so much and sometimes, I hate my mother for staying with him.
He’s not the loving father he pretends to be when others are around. In fact, he can be a real asshole. I think he treats all women like shit. The only one he gets along with is my brother.
He told me this a little over a year ago on my sixteenth birthday. “You’re beautiful just like your mother. Hopefully, you don’t end up being a pill-popping, drunk like her.” If it wasn’t for my mother, I would have left long ago but I stayed because leaving would send her to an early grave.
There’s some loud grunting and coughing before the front door opens. It’s a bittersweet moment. Bitter because he’s home and sweet because it’ll give my mother some relief. After ten years of dealing with his bullshit, I would think she would have found a way to cope. The big house, country club memberships, cars, and jewelry would be enough to keep most women happy. I guess she’s really in it for the love which makes her a lot better than me. One more year and I’m out of here. She’ll be on her own.
They usually go at it for about thirty minutes to an hour, or until he passes out. She meets him on the stairs, which is wh
ere the arguing begins, and follows him into their bedroom. Voices are distorted—his because he’s been drinking, and hers because she’s been crying—but I can still make out some of what’s being said.
“Even with the stench of liquor on your breath, I can smell her perfume. Why do you do this? Haven’t I been good to you?”
“I’m not going through this tonight, Linda. Go to bed.”
“No. You’re going to listen to me. I helped you get to where you are, not her. It was my parents’ money.”
“Look around you. Your parents’ money could never afford you this. The cars, the house, the fancy parties. This was what you wanted, remember? You wanted status. Oh, and let’s not forget, the endless donations we’ve made. All so you could feel good about yourself. Well, I’ll tell you one thing, honey, it was money wasted because you’re still a pathetic case.”
My blood is boiling. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and reach for my robe. Why does he have to be so fucking cruel? And why does she bother with him? What did she see in him? I can’t imagine him ever being a good person.
The arguing is getting more intense. Something in my mother’s voice sounds different.
“I never wanted this. What I wanted and what I still want is a husband who loves and respects me. I want my children to be happy. Not this.”
“How the hell would you know what you want? All you do is pop pills and drink all day. Look at you.”
Worried, I walk down the hall to their room. The door is open, but neither of them notices me.
I watch as my father grabs my mother’s arm and pulls her to the floor mirror in the corner. My mother turns her head away, but he clutches her chin and forces her to look at herself.
“I hate to break it to you, but you’re not what you used to be. There’s a lot of younger, more attractive women, lining up to take your place. So, you can either play ball, or you can pack up and leave. But if you do leave, I promise you won’t get a cent from me.”
She’s crying hard. Her trembling lips are parted but no words come out. It’s like she’s paralyzed.
His voice lowers, and he leans in to whisper in her ear.
Even after he backs away, she remains still for some seconds before her hand reaches inside her robe.
I won’t stand for it any longer. “Stop it! Leave her alone!” I blurt the words, making my presence known, barging openly into the room.
Then I turn to my mother. “You shouldn’t take his shit. Stop letting him tear you down and stop allowing him to put his hands on you.”
I point a stiff finger at my father. “You do this to torture her.”
Amused, he looks up and laughs.
I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone more. The cynical look he’s wearing sickens me. He could drop dead now, and I wouldn’t shed a tear.
“You’re not a little girl anymore.” He puts three ice cubes in a glass and grabs the bottle of scotch. After fixing his drink, he raises it toward me. “Here’s to you, dear daughter, and to everything you’ll become,” he says, before swallowing it down in one gulp.
There’s an unsettling feeling in my stomach and heat flushes through my body. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”
“I’m good but thanks. Maybe you need to have one in loosen up a bit. Then again, we wouldn’t want you to pick up your mother’s ways.”
Unbelievable! In his twisted mind, he thinks he’s better than her. “You’re really sick.”
I’m focused on him when I hear muttering coming from my mother. My attention is drawn to her. Her breaths are bursting in and out, in an irregular pattern and her lip is trembling. The way she’s looking at him, it scares me. Her expression is grim. I’m afraid something bad is going to happen. Slowly, she raises her hand from her side and I see the gun she’s holding.
My eyes widen, and I gasp. Swallowing hard, I move toward her, taking small steps.
“Mom, no.” I’m shaking my head. “You and me, we can just leave. Come on. We can go right now...anywhere…anywhere you want to.”
I ease closer to her. My pulse is racing and the wild look in her eyes makes me shudder. Her breathing is erratic.
Clawing at her face she says, “Then he’ll never pay for what he’s put me through.” Her voice is cold and emotionless.
I’m trying to find the right words to say.
The whole time, he doesn’t say a word. When I glance over at him, he’s tossing back another drink. Without a doubt, he’s amused with it all. Then it hits me, he thinks she’s bluffing. He’s too drunk to see what I see.
“It doesn’t matter, Mom. Let’s just go.”
The front door opens, and I can’t help thinking, like father like son. My brother couldn’t have picked a worse time to come home. I want to yell for him to come up, but I don’t. I doubt if he can help, considering he’s probably drunk as well. Maybe it’s his way of coping with what goes on.
Raising my hands, I ease closer. “I need you, Mom. Don’t do this. Please…give me the gun.”
The loud noise sends me to my knees. I feel strange, and I’m having a hard time focusing. My mother’s yelling is the last thing I remember hearing before I drift out of consciousness and into quietness.
1
Present day
Are you ready to put that degree of yours to work?”
“I’m ready for more responsibility, if that’s what you mean.”
Time has taught me not to get excited about anything without knowing all the facts. I am curious, but I know him. If I show interest, he’ll only further delay things. And, if I don’t, he’ll do the same. Somewhere in between is where I need to be.
I’ve done a lot for this company, and I’ve put up with even more. In the morning, I’m the first one in, and at night, I’m the last one out. I had hopes of claiming my place here. God knows I’ve worked hard for it.
Evidently, education alone doesn’t get you very far these days, but good genes do. With a master’s in marketing, and a doctors in communications, I would like to think I’m capable of being more than the company’s secretary and, on occasion, a prize for clients.
“Good. That’s what I like to hear.”
Senior Executive of Business Affairs is my title. From what I’ve gathered, they dress up, look pretty, and smile, while entertaining clients. It seems a little unorthodox. But I’ve come to accept the company’s tactics, even if I don’t like them.
Most people have pictures of their family on their desk, but not him. Other than a folder and some loose papers, a glass top, mahogany cigar case, along with a gold pen, are the only items occupying space on the hand-carved oak veneer piece of furniture.
My mouth is known for having a mind of its own. While waiting for him to share what he’s pondering over, I watch his movement. He’s like a snake and will bite you if you get too close.
This is what he does with everything—makes it known that he has control. I’ve learned to be patient, but lately, more now than before, being in his presence sickens me.
There’s a fluttering feeling in my stomach and its traveling to my chest. If he doesn’t say something soon, I will. My day is full, and I need to get on with it.
I’m through waiting.
“Does this have something to do with Turner Company?” He’s been gunning for the contract with them for years, and I know it’s up for grabs. Lately, he’s been working overtime gathering information on the competition and using their secrets to knock them out of the race. He plays dirty that way. But competition runs deep and not everyone has secrets. A bottle of champagne and fancy cigars alone won’t be enough to secure the multi-million-dollar contract.
“As a matter of fact, it does.”
“Great, because I have some ideas I want to run by you. I was thinking, we may not know what the competition is bidding but if we look at some public data, we can assess each one’s position and—”
He cuts me off. “Yeah, yeah. I have it taken care of. That’s not what I wanted to discu
ss with you.”
Ouch, that stings. I was hoping this time would be different. We talked about this before—him using me for jobs men can’t do which is basically, wearing a skirt and lipstick. It’s insulting.
He picks up a folder from his desk, opens it, and after flipping through the first few pages, hands it to me. “Here’s your new assignment.”
A quick browse reveals I’m more than familiar with the person, but I don’t know why he would be. “I’m confused. What is this?”
“What does it look like? Anyway, you wanted to help, this is how you can help.”
“A file on Jackson and Lennox?” I continue to scan through the documents. “Why are you giving me this? Better yet, how'd you even get it?”
Even for Robert, this is too much. “So, we’re in the business of stalking now?”
“This is a serious matter. If you can't see that, maybe you're not right for the job.”
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