Hired for the Boss s Bed

by Robyn Grady

  A double rap on the door and David poked his head in. ‘Hate to bust up the party, but it’s almost eight and we still have work to do.’

  Jezz shot glances between the two. ‘You’re going back to the office now?’

  ‘Not the office. But we have a short walk ahead of us, so—’ David flipped a beckoning hand at Serena ‘—grab your bag. We’ll leave Jezz to rest.’

  A ripple of anticipation stirred in her stomach as Serena joined him. Where did he plan to take her? Would other people be involved? Or would it be quiet and deserted but for them? And, if she were honest, which would she prefer? Strictly business? Or just him, her and a dozen possibilities?

  As they walked together to the lift he went over their discussion with Jezz, but Serena couldn’t help thinking how much her perception of David had changed from Monday morning to Tuesday night. In subtle ways…she hadn’t realized his hair was long enough to lick the collar of his shirt. In disruptive but exciting ways, too…he might be her boss, but he was also a flesh and blood, sexual being.

  Stupid to consider, detrimental to her position, her career, her dreams. Still, no getting around the fact. Every time she saw him, every time he smiled or talked or touched, he grew more attractive, more real life, more…

  Irresistible?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘WANT to know what I can’t resist?’ David filled his lungs as they continued their walk from the hospital down through harbour-side Circular Quay.

  ‘What you can’t resist?’ Serena gave him an almost sheepish look. ‘Um…why don’t you tell me?’

  Despite his vow to abstain from any illicit thoughts regarding his protégé, he could very easily have said, ‘You.’ Serena’s enthusiasm, her toes, her innocent—or were they temptress?—eyes when she gazed up into his, drinking in his every word.

  Forcing himself to concentrate on the ferry crowds streaming both ways from the harbour platforms, he sucked in another lungful of briny air. ‘I can’t resist this town at night.’

  The energy, the beauty, the sparkle. It reminded him of Serena. Then again, lately everything reminded him of her.

  When she didn’t answer, he swung over a look. Her dimples were nowhere to be seen.

  Unimpressed?

  A pang curled in the pit of his stomach.

  Of course. Her ultimate sights were set on distant lands, broadening her horizons, just like another woman he’d once known. It had taken years to rebuild his agency’s client base, as well as his reputation, when Olivia Roundtree had flicked back her long dark hair and waltzed out on him and her position. No matter how desirable he found Serena, surely that life experience gave him enough reason in itself to stay clear. Enough reason to pretend this temptation didn’t exist.

  She pointed out an indigenous street performer, moving to the recorded drone of a didgeridoo. ‘There’s certainly plenty to see.’

  ‘Funny. I’d pick you more for nightclubs over corroborees.’

  From the look on her face, she’d spotted the tongue in his cheek. She wrapped her arms around her waist. The breeze was cool; he should have thought to bring the jacket from his car to offer her.

  ‘I don’t visit that scene much any more.’

  ‘Too old?’ he ribbed.

  ‘Too busy,’ she parried. ‘What about you?’

  He cast a glance over a shoulder at the Opera House. ‘Clubs aren’t my scene either.’

  ‘More into Shakespeare and arias?’

  He smirked. ‘Just not into gyrating to deafening music.’

  ‘Well, it’s a darn good thing you’ve got me to help with Hits, then.’ She buffed a set of nails on her upper sleeve.

  ‘A fan of loud music, okay.’ He’d play along. ‘But how are you placed for gyrating?’

  He enjoyed the flash in her eyes, the way she hugged herself more tightly, how her breasts pushed up and she didn’t shy from his gaze.

  ‘I must confess,’ she said, ‘I haven’t done much lately.’

  ‘Maybe we should fix that.’

  She blinked before her gaze skated away, back to the scenery.

  He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. Given their conversation’s subtext, his self-analysis—this hard-on—he was headed for trouble. And, from her expression, he had to consider that she might be inviting it.

  When she’d listened to his speech in the hospital doorway about wishes and passions, he’d thought he’d revealed himself. The best part of him hadn’t wanted to. The more primitive part, however, kept right on pushing. After years of being content with inconsequential affairs, what was it about Serena Stevens that made her so darn special?

  Deep in thought, Serena unravelled her arms and chuckled to herself.

  His smile was reflex. ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘Our talk of clubs reminded me of a night out with the girls a couple of years back. Kirsty Dunn’s twenty-first birthday. We’d done the family restaurant thing, then Kirsty wanted to paint the town red. We ended up at a party bar in Kings Cross.’

  Australia’s best-known ‘hotspot’? This ought to be good.

  ‘Kirsty had one too many Fluffy Ducks,’ Serena said. ‘She kept asking for Duffy—’ She bit her lip. ‘Well, you can fill in the blank. Anyway, Sally Freeman got it into her head to get a waiter, dressed as a cowboy, to perform a table dance. But Sally wasn’t wearing her contacts and pointed me out instead. He came right over and asked me to tug on his chaps.’

  She chuckled again, then sighed, a long, contented sound.

  David waited, frown deepening. ‘And? What happened next?’

  She stopped, faced him and tacked her gaze to his. ‘Only if you tell me first.’

  His thinking faltered. What was she on about? He was damn sure he’d never pulled any guy’s chaps.

  She twisted her mouth and persisted. ‘You’re not going to tell me, are you?’

  Did she want to hear about his own escapades? If he’d ever dressed up as a cowboy? Not recently, but if she was interested…

  A hot band tightened around his chest and the air in his lungs burned up.

  Was she interested? And if this attraction was mutual, if he’d read her signs right, should he be crazy enough to consider it? Should he break an iron-clad rule and taste forbidden fruit?

  But if he experienced her just the once, held her close enough to breathe in her perfume and melt into her curves, perhaps he could get this craving out of his system. His hunger would be satisfied and it would be back to regular viewing. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have her own star to follow, and they were both over eighteen. Surely one night together wouldn’t break her heart or his.

  Serena rolled her eyes and groaned. ‘What do I have to do? Beg?’

  He clamped down on a muscle ticking in jaw.

  He was done wondering.

  ‘Beg?’ He stopped to face her square on. ‘Sure, if you like.’

  ‘All right.’ She clasped her hands under her chin in a prayer pose. ‘Ple-e-ease.’

  As his gaze zeroed in on her lips a far-off merchant ship blew its horn. Long. Hard. His arms and legs grew strangely heavy. The ache in his gut, in his groin, overwhelmed every other sensation. As a rush of heat scored his flesh, his mind went blank, then flashed bright with neon colour.

  Next he knew, his hands were cupping the slippery fabric sloped over her shoulders. He urged her in and his mouth searched out the treasure of hers. When she opened up, he found it, savoured it, and what was more, he couldn’t get enough of it.

  His hands trailed up to capture her warm face, to manoeuvre and work the kiss. Breathing deeply, pulse rate off the chart, he gave himself over to this one moment where he was nothing more than a man, defying the rules, denying everything but primal instinct. She felt so good.

  A moan deep in her throat vibrated up to his lips, over his tongue. Her fingertips walked higher, pressed in, then kneaded his chest. How he wanted to return the favour.

  Later. Yes, later.

  Nowhere near ready, he for
ced himself to gently break away. The lively noise of the Quay, strangers milling and smiling as they cut around them, faded back into focus. Had he been aware of his actions? Was he bewitched or out of his mind? Not in the slightest. God help him, he wanted more.

  Fighting the impulse to nuzzle into the flush of her cheek, he gazed into those pretty eyes, which flickered open now.

  Mouth slightly parted, she focused, then found a soft, throaty voice. ‘I want…’

  A white-hot quiver sizzled through him. Oh, yeah, he wanted it, too. As soon as possible.

  ‘Hmm? Tell me,’ he murmured, nudging his pelvis closer, hands sliding down over her collar-bones to wing in her arms just above the elbow.

  The slender column of her throat bobbed. She shrugged one shoulder. ‘I just wanted to know where we were going.’

  His heartbeat stalled as the full circle of his surroundings receded back till there was only Serena and him and this unexpected, awkward situation. He must have heard wrong.

  ‘Where we’re going?’

  When she slowly nodded, his stomach dipped and he slid one long step back. Reality continued crashing in as he ground a hand back through his hair and remembered.

  Work. The appointment they were now most certainly late for. The campaign his reputation depended on. The gold award that ensured not only his agency’s continued success, but its survival.

  He went to straighten his tie, remembered he wasn’t wearing one and tugged an ear instead as they began to walk again.

  Even up until an hour ago he’d fooled himself that he controlled this attraction, that he could quarantine and conquer it, as he did any weakness. His father had taught his eldest son the benefits of mind over emotion, a formula the wily barrister had applied to amass a family fortune. After a bad start, David had followed it religiously, until now, when he’d let an amusing interest develop into an overnight, king-sized tug-of-war. Impulse against common sense. Work responsibilities versus sexual need. But how did Serena feel?

  You could bet he’d find out. Pretending this never happened wasn’t the answer. They needed to talk. Unfortunately, that conversation would have to wait.

  Two at a time, he took the steps to the well-known address while Serena followed dutifully behind. Breezing through into the building’s black granite entrance, he answered her question. ‘Actually, we’re here. I organized for a sound studio to keep their doors open so we could listen to the score for Hits.’

  ‘Really?’

  He glanced over. Tell-tale warmth flooded his limbs at the sight of her sparkling sea-green eyes. ‘Thought you’d be pleased.’

  In an attempt to redeem himself over this afternoon’s misunderstanding regarding her promotion, he’d kept this treat up his sleeve. He’d anticipated exactly her Christmas-light expression. Perhaps he should have been up front, as he would have been with any other employee. But then they’d have missed that stimulating conversation and the kiss of the century.

  His fingers clenched, then flexed. ‘You’re probably aware this is considered the best recording studio in the country.’ Work, for now focus on work. If she was mature enough to put their embrace behind them for the moment, surely so could he. ‘Their reputation is unsurpassed here, as well as overseas. I know they’ll have done a great job.’

  ‘Are lyrics in the pipeline?’

  David grinned. The lady was good. Soon they’d be listening to lyrics already incorporated into some of the mixes. But how quickly and confidently could Serena articulate her thoughts? She might turn his private dials up to overload, but foremost she had a job to do and she must do it well. That was paramount.

  He tested her. ‘Do you think we need words?’

  She didn’t hesitate. ‘Absolutely. A piece of music might sprinkle goose-bumps up your legs, but lyrics speak to everyone uniquely. It’s the words of a song that link you for ever with a moment in your life. You relive that emotion every time you hear it. Happy. Bummed out. Falling in love.’

  She’d looked back over her shoulder at something. He couldn’t see her face. Was she deliberately avoiding his gaze?

  His forehead prickled.

  And who said anything about falling in love?

  In silence they rode the lift to the tenth floor, her face unreadable for the first infuriating time ever. He stretched his neck and grimaced. His collar felt tight and it wasn’t even buttoned.

  What was she thinking? Was that last comment a tease? Or innocent? That would explain her no-cracks expression. And she was right. After tonight, whenever he heard this score, he’d go back to when he’d held her face, the world had melted away and he’d shot to the stars enjoying their first kiss.

  Their first but, hopefully, not their last.

  The doors opened and they crossed the foyer’s polished parquet flooring.

  She nibbled her bottom lip, obviously mulling something over. ‘Has anyone considered a run of instrumentals to highlight different musical styles? The composition should sound familiar to the public, but not generic or boring.’

  Okay. Now he was impressed. Approaching the front desk, he nodded. ‘Good point. Bring it up at the next meeting.’

  A butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth smile set his blood alight. ‘Your wish is my command.’

  Oh, she could be his genie in a bottle any day.

  ‘David Miles. Hello, mate!’

  Inside the reception lounge, decorated with blinding metal cut-outs and rainbow shades of blue, David swung towards an English accent that belonged to Jonathon Sturts, Mixem Studios’ hotshot company director.

  Jonathon snatched a puzzled glance at his Rolex. ‘What are you doing here this time of night? I was on my way to dinner. Did we have an appointment?’

  David gave his hand in greeting. ‘I’m booked in to catch a preview of the Hits track.’ Chest expanding, he stepped aside to introduce the not only beautiful but also incredibly bright young woman standing behind him. ‘Jonathon Sturts, meet Serena Stevens.’

  Jonathon channelled fascinated fingers through his sweep of overly long fair hair. A slow, appreciative smile broke a heartbeat later. ‘Pleasure to meet you, Serena.’

  Serena stepped forward to accept the hand offered. ‘Jonathon.’

  ‘Unfortunately I’m already late for supper.’ Grudgingly Jonathon returned his attention to David. ‘I’d thought everything was put to bed, but I’ll check on your booth.’ With undisguised curiosity, he fixed upon Serena again. ‘How would that do, my dear?’

  Serena’s white smile fanned wider. ‘Sounds great.’

  David’s gaze shot between the two—Serena, then Jonathon, whose leer remained in the vicinity of her lips.

  Everyone knew this man’s reputation: a maestro with music, a wolf with women. Normally it didn’t matter a fig to David. But Serena was off limits. His mother had said her eldest had never learned to share and she was right.

  Jonathon snapped curt fingers at a woman who was dressed in gothic garb and passing by in a hurry.

  ‘Marissa?’ Jonathon called her over. ‘Do you know anything about David Miles’ booking time this evening?’

  The silver stud under his junior assistant’s lower lip flashed beneath the lights. ‘Nuh-uh. Must be a mistake. Everyone had to be out for the annual debugging. The pest-control guy’s cancelled till next week, but I only found that out at six when people had already gone home. Which is where I’m headed…’ she trailed off.

  David stepped in. Making progress was a priority, but if their situation here couldn’t be fixed, this night held other possibilities. ‘No problem. We’ll arrange another time and get out of your hair.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Jonathon said and Marissa groaned. ‘Marissa, open booth D for Mr Miles.’ She swallowed an argument, then, shoulders slumped, dragged her army boots through a swinging door. Jonathon quirked a brow. ‘Good help is so difficult to find.’

  Serena’s attention had wandered to a gallery of framed special edition posters lining the far wall.

  Jonatho
n’s aristocratic chin rose with an important air. ‘We have a few notable contacts abroad.’ He nodded at the posters, urging her on. ‘Be my guest. It’s an impressive line-up.’

  David’s irritation over their host’s leering subsided. ‘Appreciate you helping us out.’

  Jonathon flicked it off. ‘Don’t mention it.’

  ‘Frankly, it’s been a madhouse at the agency lately. My plans seem shot to hell before the day even begins.’

  ‘Never enough time in this business, either. My man in Piccadilly isn’t helping any. I’d sack the sod in a blink if I could find a half-decent replacement.’ Jonathon wound his arms over his chest. ‘Suppose your lot’s gearing up for the big awards. Not far off, eh?’

  ‘A few months.’ David’s gaze remained on Serena, her innocent enthusiasm, her not-so-innocent curves.

  ‘This account should offer some first-rate fodder for the committee to chew on?’

  David nodded. ‘That’s the plan.’

  For years, his world had revolved around his agency’s ascent. After that God-awful start with Olivia, slow and steady had paid off. He was almost there. Then everything he’d busted his royal butt over would be truly acknowledged. He could rest easy knowing that he’d made the best of a vocation that had very much been a second choice.

  That couldn’t be helped. Choosing to be there for his family when his father was ill instead of joining the air force had been tough. Hell, he’d wanted to be a pilot since before he could remember. But it hadn’t been a sacrifice so much as simply the right decision. Just as it was the right decision now to place his career before anything else.

  An eye on Serena, David chewed his inside cheek.

  Jonathon’s attention slid back to Serena, too. His almost feline eyes gleamed as he pulled David aside.

  ‘Come to think of it, there is one way you could show your appreciation of my hospitality tonight, Davey. Drop a good word in that darling’s ear for me, hmm? I wouldn’t mind taking a better look at those lively green eyes, perhaps over an intimate dinner for two.’