Hired for the Boss s Bed

by Robyn Grady

  Serena shook her head faster. A handbag from All That would blow her budget, let alone a gown.

  ‘No price limit,’ Jezz said into the receiver. ‘Breathtaking is the only requirement.’ She winked at Serena. ‘You’ll be up here in fifteen minutes with a selection?’ She checked her watch. ‘Done. Mind doing me another favour? Make a booking with the beautician next door for two-thirty tomorrow afternoon. Shampoo, blow-dry, manicure, pedicure. The works!’

  ‘Get them back,’ Serena begged as Jezz hung up. ‘Next you’ll be calling a limo. I can’t afford it.’

  ‘You’re representing Miles Advertising and you’re going to look the part. And don’t worry about the bill. I’ll square it with David. He’ll be delighted.’

  Serena thought of how David wanted to be kept up to date with expenses. He might have slept with her, but business was business. ‘I’m not so sure he will be.’

  ‘Well, I am.’

  Serena’s gaze shot up from the floor. ‘What makes you say that?’

  Jezz wiggled her fingers and Serena helped her up and onto her crutches. ‘Because he’s interested, and not just in your advertising abilities.’

  Serena watched Jezz hop and swing over to the fridge. ‘You know that?’

  Jezz found and uncapped a bottle of sparkling apple juice. ‘I also know there’s been contact between you two.’ The intended meaning of the word ‘contact’ was made clear by her tone.

  Serena crept closer. ‘How do you know?’

  Was it etched in her forehead? Had she spoken in her sleep? How much did Jezz know? That after a sizzling night, David had agreed to never raise the issue again? His professional attitude towards her afterwards had made her respect him. His personal disinterest had also made her want to cry or slap his face.

  Jezz poured two glasses and offered Serena one. ‘I know because his chest expands if either of us mentions your name, and when I ask you to speak with him about something, your cheeks turn the colour of crushed berries.’

  Serena felt those berries now. ‘Doesn’t mean anything’s happened.’

  Jezz wasn’t buying. ‘Am I wrong?’

  She buckled. ‘No.’

  And today, after four weeks on the wagon, David had started with his teasing again, word games, meaningful lidded looks that ignited flash fires in her veins.

  They’d agreed never to discuss it, but was that best? She didn’t have the least idea what she’d say, but more and more she needed to say something. Something smug or hurtful or possibly desperate. And that was what she was more afraid of than anything. If he brought up their clandestine night, she’d either start rambling and embarrass herself. Or jump on him and embarrass herself. Neither option was good.

  ‘My best advice for tomorrow’s party is—’ Jezz raised her glass ‘—just have fun.’

  Serena took a long sip.

  As long as I don’t ‘fun’ myself into trouble and out of a job.

  The following day, Serena rubbed her palms down the sides of her jeans and followed Gilbert, David’s butler, as they walked from the mansion down a wide slate path lined with mint-green pines.

  This afternoon she’d made doubly certain that everything was in place for tonight’s promotional launch of the Hits campaign. Several times during these past weeks, when she’d known David was at the office, she’d come to his home to prepare. She needed to ensure that the glittering line-up of guests was impressed, but more so that the all-important sponsors were dazzled.

  The situation was similar to a leading sportswear company wanting to know that the tennis or football star they sponsored was receiving the very best exposure, as well as assurance that their advertising dollars were handled by people with class, pizzazz and first-class initiative. With Jezz’s help, Serena aimed to do just that.

  Silver-haired Gilbert, who was dressed in chinos and a patterned open-necked shirt, spoke over one shoulder to her. ‘Mr Miles insisted I bring you to him before you left the grounds today. Perhaps we could organize some bathers and you could join him for a dip?’

  Further down the slope, David pulled his athletic body through the crystal-blue water of a fifty-metre pool. He flipped at the far end, then re-emerged to freestyle leisurely back.

  Water. David. Minimum of clothes.

  ‘Not this time, Gilbert.’ The idea was way too tempting.

  A flock of king parrots winged-in overhead to land in a grevillia grove the other side of a spectacular floral garden clock. Beyond the cliff face, the harbour entertained a fleet of sailing yachts. Enormous entry gates, imposing Mediterranean-style home, tennis court, pristine lawns…

  When she’d first seen this place, she’d almost fallen over. David wasn’t merely wealthy, he must be a multi-multimillionaire. Where had all this money come from? Had his company earned him this kind of fortune? Mansions and grounds such as these existed in movies. Her two-bedroom Manly apartment was a cubby-hole compared to this.

  She held her stomach when it kicked.

  If she didn’t mention the C.H. word, or start rambling or fantasizing, she should manage to keep her clothes on and everything would be fine.

  When they reached the pool area’s sandstone pavers, Gilbert bowed off and David kicked up out from the pool. He walked over, dark hair dripping and powerhouse of muscles glistening in the warm sunshine.

  He snatched a white towel off the back of a chaise and ruffle-dried his hair as he joined her.

  Memories from the booth swooped upon her, but she forced her gaze away from those shoulders to his eyes and spoke first. ‘I was making a final check for tonight. Gilbert said you wanted to see me.’

  He looked so different in these surrounds. Even more assured, more attractive. Every part of him seemed to be highlighted…his square chin, his height, the scar on his brow that she’d kissed so many times that night. Of course, it didn’t hurt that he was almost naked.

  He raked back his hair. ‘Everything okay?’

  She sucked in a quick breath but kept a cool face. ‘Appears to be. All the pieces for the auction are in place, which was the main reason for the visit.’

  ‘I meant is everything okay with you?’ He moved forward. She moved back. He held her gaze but didn’t smile or grin as he wrapped the towel around his washboard waist. ‘You seemed rather nervous yesterday. Or upset.’

  Yes, she was nervous about tonight. But she’d been more nervous about the way he’d looked at her. The things he’d said. Or hadn’t said. And she’d been upset because she hadn’t the least idea how to handle it, as if her confidence had slid back ten years, and that frustrated the hell out of her. How brainless to let slip her own play on words, though she hadn’t dared look up to see his reaction.

  David gestured towards a square table and two chairs. The close proximity of all that raw sexuality worried her, but for now she couldn’t escape.

  He pulled out her chair and she took her seat. ‘I admit I am a little anxious about tonight,’ she said.

  ‘I was about to call Gilbert for lunch. Have you eaten?’ Sitting opposite, he collected a handset resting on the tabletop. He punched a button and put the receiver to his ear. ‘I ordered Caesar Salad. Or would you like something heavier? I usually have a big breakfast.’

  She blinked at him. Was he interested more in what she had to say or fine dining?

  She waved for him to put the phone down. ‘I’m really not hungry.’ A question popped into her mind. ‘Do you often ask poor Gilbert to trudge down that hill with your food?’

  What was it like to have someone serve and cook and clean and answer the door for you? She couldn’t imagine. Her mother had always laughed about how wonderful it would be to have a maid.

  ‘I eat most times at the office or at business dinners. Gilbert likes to spoil me when I’m home. But if he’s the only one in, I normally jog up and he meets me at the door.’

  A butler, every luxury, real estate worth a fortune. ‘Where on earth did you get all this money?’

  She bit her lip
, then released it. If that was too direct, too bad. Who wasn’t curious about the people who lived in big mansions and drove expensive cars?

  ‘My parents were rather well off.’

  Serena fell back in her chair. ‘Well off or loaded?’

  He sucked down a breath. ‘Loaded pretty much sums it up. My father was the biggest, toughest barrister of his day. Commanded outrageous sums for his time. He socked everything into real estate, stock market or gold, depending on the cycle. By the time he died, he was up there with the wealthiest men in the country.’

  ‘Which makes you one of the wealthiest now.’ That was being a snoop. But the idea of this much everything astounded her.

  He sat back too and laced his hands behind his head. Serena groaned under her breath. Muscle on top of muscle, a perfectly sculptured chest—big, bronze and beautiful. If he’d struck that pose to get a reaction, he’d definitely got one.

  His right pec flexed as he got more comfortable. ‘My brother and I were left financially well off after our mother passed away. But a lot was given to help relatives in England. Quite a deal more was left to charity.’

  ‘That’s incredibly generous.’

  David lowered his arms, darn it.

  ‘Dad was a tough old guy, but thoughtful too. And fair. Deep down his heart was the softer than my mother’s. She taught ballet to the up-and-coming best. I’ve never met anyone more disciplined.’ He swatted some gnat or other on his shoulder. ‘Are you thirsty?’ He collected the phone again. ‘Water, or maybe a wine and soda?’

  He was making a real effort. To seduce her? Did she want to be seduced? No! She’d already decided. No innuendo, plus no sex, equalled no embarrassing situations like skulking out from Mixem’s minus her underwear, or jeopardizing his respect for her and thus her position. And she needed that respect—this position—to help get her where she wanted to go.

  Still, what woman wouldn’t want to wrap herself around a man like him?

  While he spoke to Gilbert, she slid a glance over his body, still damp from the swim, then the strong, chiselled planes of his face. Powerful, rich, an expert lover, and that was when he was standing up. Her pulse rattled as she imagined his repertoire given the bonus of more space and resources.

  He set down the phone and nudged back his chair. ‘I’ll just run up and get the drinks.’

  She inhaled and pushed herself to her feet.

  ‘I really ought to go.’ She almost said sorry but bit it off. She didn’t want him to know just how sorry she was. ‘I have an appointment at half past two.’

  He didn’t say anything, just looked, but she could read his eyes. They said he wanted her to forget the appointment. He wanted her to stay. But if she stayed she couldn’t trust herself, and after yesterday she knew she couldn’t trust him.

  Could he read her eyes? That she’d love nothing better than to run her hands over those arms, trail moist kisses along his sun-warmed olive skin? But she couldn’t be sure that twice wouldn’t turn into three times, then four. She didn’t want to have an affair with David. She didn’t want to look forward to the next time.

  She didn’t want to get attached.

  He looked her up and down, blinked twice, then turned away. ‘I’ll get a robe and see you out.’

  She almost had to sit down again. His face had been hard, but she’d seen his disappointment. Why did this have to be so complicated?

  She wandered over as he vanished through the doorway of a white block pool house, which was big enough to be a house in its own right. Checking the time, she moved up to the door. She really ought to hurry if she was going to—

  David was standing at the far end of the room, back to her. He’d just stripped off his swimwear.

  Her throat closed and heartbeat exploded as she stared at that broad back, long thick legs, tight centrefold buns. This was male animal perfection.

  When he tossed the swimmers on a wet floor next to a shower, he must have caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye.

  A terrible, wonderful thrill flew through her. When her lungs burned, she remembered to breathe. Through tunnel vision she watched him slowly face her, then move with long casual strides her way.

  Assured, purposeful—the gait of a hunter. And she was his prey. She didn’t know whether to run for her life, play possum or enjoy being eaten.

  When he stopped, she felt as if she stood in the shadow of a mountain. His arms gathered her in and any remaining moral fibre seeped away. His hand funnelled through one side of her hair and tugged. Her neck arced back and she was faced by the full force of it—his magnetism and his will.

  He reached between them and dragged down her jeans’ zipper, then pressed on her back with his other hand till her breasts met his bare chest. His mouth found the shell of her ear. She trembled when he told her, ‘This time I won’t ask.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ONLY hours after making love to Serena, David stood in the centre of his home’s grandiose foyer—colossal chandelier overhead, upbeat music playing, the first of his guests arriving for the big event.

  He should be pumped about it. Tonight would play an integral role in keeping that client happy. But the bigger part of him couldn’t wait to get the crowd out so he and Serena could test his bed in the master suite. The shower in the pool house had been sensational, twice.

  ‘One more time’ hadn’t been nearly enough.

  Resplendent in black tuxedo, Greg Harold from a rival agency had arrived with his vivacious wife five minutes earlier. Recording agent guru, Snork Merril—strange name, strange man—had made his much-heralded appearance with partner, Phil Daniels. Over a hundred guests so far, some looking as though they’d come in fancy dress, others straight from a rave party. And still no Serena.

  He was beginning to worry. All sorts of scenarios were taking shape in his mind. She was held up at work, injured in a car accident.

  Boarding a plane.

  His stomach muscles contracted.

  In fact, he couldn’t wait any longer. He wouldn’t settle till he dialled her cell and she picked up. He’d just check the entrance a final time.

  He turned in time to see the witch swoop in through his front door.

  ‘Hello, Rachel.’ His smile was thin but polite. ‘Glad you could make it.’

  She sashayed up with her usual air, then smoothed the cobalt-coloured fabric of her tight cocktail number. Her ebony eyes said, Don’t feed me that crap; this should be my launch to run, while her vocal cords chimed, ‘I’m so glad to be here.’ She flung her brunette waves and an unimpressed look around. ‘Where’s Serena?’

  ‘She’ll be here soon. A few last-minute details to attend to.’

  Rachel looked scandalously pleased. ‘At this late hour? I hope she has things under control…’ she paused for effect ‘…for everyone’s sake.’

  After a manufactured start, she waved an arm in greeting. ‘Sedwick Rottell!’

  A middle-aged broadsheet editor, sporting a silver goatee and unlaced sneakers, rotated his hand in the air as if he were royalty.

  Rachel set off. ‘Good luck, David. Let me know if you need any help.’

  David mumbled under his breath, ‘Not likely.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  At the voice at his back, he spun around. One elbow slammed into something warm and soft. Both hands shot out to blindly steady the situation. They caught Serena, who stood, face pinched, before him. She was rubbing an upper arm.

  An impulse grabbed him. He thrust his hands into his pockets to keep them from doing things he might regret.

  Not now. Manners first. Lovin’ later.

  Her expression warmed. He tipped towards her and murmured, ‘You make me hot.’

  ‘And you made me late. I wanted to be extra early.’

  ‘Well, now you’re extra clean.’

  She play-slapped his chest, then began talking, but he was engrossed drinking in the picture of a woman who’d never looked more dazzling. Silky hair flipped up in a glit
tering hairdo, an exquisite full-length gown—pale pink, hugging but sophisticated—and a face that was a hundred times more beautiful than any model’s. He was one very lucky man.

  Serena’s words filtered through to his conscience.

  ‘There was the salon appointment, which I was late for—’ she narrowed her eyes ‘—thanks to you. It took for ever. And Jezz organized for a private fashion parade yesterday, but this afternoon they sent the wrong size. Oh, and that’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about—’

  He placed a finger close to her mouth and she shut up. ‘Whatever it is, it has to wait. You have a launch party to manage.’ Her smile didn’t so much widen as bloom when he braced a hand on her lower back to guide her toward the adjoining room. He nodded at the curious faces they passed. What were they thinking?

  Who was this angel David Miles was with? Was she as intelligent as she was lovely? How long would she hang around?

  David’s breathing hitched. His hand went to his throat as he cleared it.

  He wouldn’t allow that black thought. He didn’t want to think about the answer.

  He slid over a glance and was comforted by the depth of those dimples. ‘Everything’s under control.’ He smiled. ‘But you knew it would be.’

  Serena clutched a purse to her breast, her eyes shining more brightly than tomorrow morning’s dawn. He’d missed that expression. Hadn’t seen it for weeks. When she smiled at him like that, it made him feel invincible. As if he could never be more complete. As if everything he had now was all he’d ever need.

  Did he ever want to let that feeling go?

  He did know he wanted to continue seeing Serena. If this afternoon was any indication, he guessed she wouldn’t say no. They could go from there. See where this led them.

  Her eyes skated around the room. ‘Everything does appear to be going extremely well.’

  The prepared stage, the clouds of quaver-shaped balloons, the city-lights view beyond the terrace doors. Pretty much perfect. Better yet were their guests’ expressions, the way everyone enjoyed the same heightened sense of anticipation.