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  I head out of my office toward the boardroom, passing Colette Watson, who’s sitting at her desk, typing a letter on a laptop that IT must have lent her after she blew up the PC. I slow as I pass. Mrs. Stubbs has a typing speed of around ninety words a minute, and my old PA was a good eighty.

  Colette can’t be typing any faster than thirty words a minute. And she’s only using two fingers.

  It should irritate me. I should get straight onto the recruitment agency and demand to know what they’re doing sending me a temp who can’t type and who has a personal vendetta against anything electronic.

  For some reason, though, I’m not irritated. I’m not used to that.

  She looks up, sees me staring, and says, “What?”

  I shake my head. “I’ve a meeting in the boardroom.”

  “Want me to make coffee?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  She grins, and I give her a wry smile. I wonder how she talked the agency into taking her on. Maybe she’s studied hypnosis. Nothing would surprise me at the moment.

  Her phone rings, and she picks up the receiver, keeping eye contact with me and fluttering her eyelashes as she says in a fake-sweet voice, “Mr. Wright’s office. How can I help you today?” Her eyes dance as she listens, then she informs me, “Elenora wants me to tell you to get your ass to the boardroom right now.”

  “Tell her to keep her panties on. I’m on my way.”

  “Mr. Wright says he’ll be just a minute.” She replaces the receiver and gives me a cheeky smile.

  Man, this girl is hot. It’s not just her curves and the memory of the lace-topped thigh highs. It’s the look in her baby-blue eyes that tells me she knows what’s going through my mind, and she approves wholeheartedly, and has a few ideas of her own.

  My sister’s right, though. It’s not the done thing to bang one’s secretary, even a temp, and that’s an epithet I’ve kept to since the moment we first set up the business. Professionalism is one of the keys to our success, and I don’t intend to screw that up now.

  So, with a final look into those sultry eyes, I turn away from the sexy Miss Watson, ignore the blood surging around my body, and head off to the boardroom without looking back.

  I discover I’m the last to arrive. Harry, Caleb, and Elen are already seated around the long glass table, and I wave a hand as I pass them and take my place at the head. “Sorry. I got… distracted.” I plug my laptop into the projector, set up the presentation, then sit back.

  Taking a deep breath, I blow it out slowly, and take a moment to study my friends. Looking at them now, all in designer suits, even my baby sister, it’s easy to forget what a struggle we had in the early years. We knew the ideas we were coming up with at university were something new, but it was hard enough to get anyone to listen, let alone to find funding. We spent years going door-to-door, fighting for every sale, begging and pleading for companies to help. And then a few years ago, the top technology magazine in the country listed one of our tablets on their list of must-haves, and everything took off. Since then, we haven’t looked back. Sometimes it feels as if we’re living life at the speed of light. So, it’s good to take a breath and remember how far we’ve risen.

  “What are you staring at?” Elen demands, breaking my poignant moment.

  “Just thinking how far we’ve come,” I say, unusually placid.

  Elen’s frown softens, and her lips curve up. “Did you know that article in the tech magazine came out three years ago today?”

  We all stare at her in surprise. “No,” I say. “Jeez, time flies when you’re working fourteen hours a day.”

  Harry yawns and gives a long stretch. “Yeah. I thought things might slow down when we hit the big time. I didn’t expect them to speed up.”

  “Price of success,” Caleb grumbles, and bangs his phone on the table. “Fucking thing’s frozen again.”

  I rise and pour myself a coffee from the pot in the corner. “You haven’t let the new temp anywhere near it, have you?”

  “No. Why?”

  I just laugh, turn back to my laptop, and start the presentation. “No reason. Anyway, let’s get started.”

  To my surprise, I realize I’m in a good mood.

  I wonder what that’s due to?

  Chapter Four

  Colette

  I don’t blow anything else up for the rest of the morning, so I count it a job well done. I type some letters—albeit slowly—answer calls, and make Sebastian instant coffee that he refuses to drink, following which he sends me to the nearest coffee shop in the pouring rain for a latte as punishment.

  By lunchtime, I’m ready for my sandwich, and I go to the lunchroom, which is half-full of staff not wanting to risk a run through the rain, and lose myself in reading a book on my tablet. I only become aware of the conversation occurring between three other secretaries—a blonde, a brunette, and a third with copper-colored hair—when I overhear the word “cock.” I look up, amused, and they all burst out laughing.

  “Sorry,” says the brunette. “That came out louder than I meant it to.”

  “I just assumed you were gossiping about the latest goings on in the hen house,” I say.

  She grins. “Not quite.” She glances at her co-conspirators, then leans forward to whisper, “We were discussing which of the directors is likely to have the largest… you know.”

  “I suspect that Elen has the biggest balls,” I declare.

  That makes them laugh. “You’ll have to listen in to Seb’s phone calls,” the blonde says. “Let us know if he’s seeing anyone.”

  I lift my eyebrows, surprised at the news that he’s single.

  “He broke up with his girlfriend six weeks ago,” copper-hair informs me. “He says he doesn’t date people he works with, but every girl in the office has been hoping to catch his eye.”

  “Why did he break up with his ex?” I ask.

  They all shrug. “I think she wasn’t offering enough sex,” the brunette says. “I overheard her talking to Elen one afternoon, and Elen said ‘How are you?’ and Rachel said, ‘Fucking exhausted, he won’t leave me alone.’”

  I shiver at her words. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Sebastian Wright was the type of guy who demanded sex at all hours of the day and night. For a start, he’s a guy, and he’s not old, and—in my experience—all young men like sex as often as they can get it. But he also has that easy sexuality, that look in his eye that tells you he thinks about sex more than the average of every seven seconds. I’m convinced that sex is on Sebastian’s mind pretty much every waking minute, and probably a good proportion of his sleeping time too.

  “I don’t understand her at all,” the blonde whispers. “If he was mine, I wouldn’t want to get out of bed at all.”

  She has a point. We finish off our lunches in silence, and I suspect they’re ruminating on the idea of what it must feel like to be wanted in that way by a man like Sebastian Wright.

  I know I am.

  *

  Around four p.m., I get ten minutes to myself while Mrs. Stubbs goes on her coffee break. I spend it trawling through the online project database, looking for the folder containing details of the participants of the ALD trial. I don’t find it. Several folders are password protected, so it’s either in one of those, or all the information is stored on someone’s hard drive.

  Thwarted, I give myself five minutes to sit and sulk. I only have five days to get this done, and that’s if Sebastian doesn’t fire me by five o’clock, which hasn’t been ruled out.

  After my five minutes of self-pity, I force myself to get up. Sebastian has been in his office for over an hour, making calls, and I suspect he’s dying for another coffee, so I nip out into the rainy afternoon to buy him a latte, and ask the girl to pop a cinnamon swirl into a paper bag for me. Then I take them back up to his office and knock on the door.

  “Come in.” His deep, growly voice sends a shiver of warning down my spine, but I ignore it. Elen told me this morning that his bark is worse
than his bite, and I’m determined to act as if that’s true. I open the door with my elbow.

  I wait for a moment, entranced. He’s sitting behind his large desk, deep in thought, frowning at his computer screen. Behind him, the rain on the huge windows blurs the fantastic view of the city. It’s a few days from the winter solstice and longest night, and even though it’s not even five o’clock, the daylight is already starting to fade, casting the room in a strange twilight. He should put his lamp on, but at the moment he’s lit purely by the computer screen. His handsome face looks sad, reminding me what I overheard in the lunchroom, about him having split from his girlfriend six weeks ago. Does he miss her? Was it as simple as her not giving him enough sex? Or did it go deeper than that?

  I’m convinced he doesn’t know I’m there, even though he’s asked me to enter, but then, without moving his head, he lifts his gaze to me. He studies me for a moment, and then he says, “You’re wet.”

  I’ve been thinking about having sex with him all afternoon, so it’s not surprising the direction this sends my brain. I blink at him, speechless.

  His look turns to a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “Your raincoat is dripping on the floor,” he points out, gesturing at the damp carpet.

  “Oh! I went out to get you an afternoon snack.” I place the bag and coffee cup on his desk, slip off my coat, and hang it on his coat rack.

  “Thank you.” He takes a sip from his coffee cup. “Is this a bribe?”

  For a moment, I think he knows about Liam, and I stare at him. “For what?”

  “To stop me from firing you.”

  “They mended the elevator, the chair, and the computer,” I point out. “Granted, the coffee machine’s screwed, but I’m guessing I was the straw that broke the camel’s… you know. It was pure chance I happened to be using it when it exploded.”

  “Yeah.” He doesn’t sound convinced.

  I poke the paper bag. “I hope I chose right. You looked like a cinnamon swirl kind of guy.”

  “Are you saying I’m fat?”

  I give him a wry look. He’s teasing me. That gives me an odd frisson. From the talk of the girls at the temp agency, as well as his attitude when I first walked into his office, I didn’t think he had a sense of humor, but I’m beginning to realize that although it’s weighed down by his work and responsibilities, it’s still there, like catching the occasional glimpse of a silver coin buried beneath the topsoil.

  There’s more to this man than meets the eye. He’s smart, he’s a great businessman, he’s sex on legs, and he has a sense of humor.

  Oh dear. I’m beginning to think coming here has been a huge mistake.

  Chapter Five

  Sebastian

  “You could probably do with losing a few pounds,” Colette says. “In fact, maybe I should help you out with the cinnamon swirl.” Dropping into the chair in front of my desk, she extricates the pastry from the bag and takes a bite, then offers it to me while she wipes crumbs of icing from her lip with a finger. Her eyes taunt me to tease her back.

  I accept the swirl from her and have a bite, flooding my mouth with sweetness. I’ll never to be able to have a pastry again without thinking about the sassy blonde. If I were to lean over and kiss her, her lips would be sticky. It gives me another hard-on just thinking about it.

  She takes a sip from my coffee cup. I watch her, amused. Once again, I’m not sure how to handle her. I’ve never met anyone quite like her before.

  “Tell me about the ALD,” she says, handing me the cup back.

  I stare at her. “What do you know about the ALD?”

  “I know you’re about to run a trial on it.” She shrugs. “I’m interested. It helps deaf people, right?”

  “Yes.” I take a swig of coffee and lean back in my chair, strangely pleased that she wants to talk about my work. “It’s an Assistive Listening Device that improves the signal-to-noise ratio. Most ALDs use FM—frequency modulation—and when several devices are close together there can be crossover between channels. We used infrared, and use light waves to transmit the sound from the transmitter to a special light sensitive receiver, so there are fewer issues with crossover.”

  I stop myself talking—details like this usually make people’s eyes glaze over. But Colette leans on the table and nods with interest. “It would be great in places like theaters and cinemas, wouldn’t it?”

  “That’s the plan. The aim would be to get them in as many places as possible, including offices and schools.”

  “And you’ve coupled it with a new hearing aid?”

  “Yes, we’ve been working with another company to produce those.”

  “When does the trial start?”

  “Next week.” I’m very excited about it. I’m passionate about every tablet and phone we produce, but this gives me a special buzz, I don’t know why. Maybe because I’m not used to being altruistic.

  Colette has a strange look on her face. I watch her gaze slide to the art desk on the other side of my office, and take in the array of drawing equipment and scattered notes I tend to leave all over the place, before returning to me.

  “You designed it,” she says. “The ALD.”

  I frown. “Yes… I assumed that was why you were asking me about it. I’m an engineer.”

  “Holy shit.” There’s genuine awe in her eyes. “I thought you were just a glorified salesman.”

  “How do you think we started the business? Harry, Caleb, and I created the first Hearktech tablet between us. It was Elenora who convinced us to set up as a business.” I laugh at her expression and take a leap that’s she’s not going to report me for sexual misconduct. “How much do you want me right now?”

  A smile spreads slowly across her face, and her look of admiration turns sultry. “Wouldn’t do you if you were the last man in the galaxy,” she says. But her eyes say otherwise.

  She stands and starts to walk away, then hesitates and turns back. I tip my head to the side, wondering what it is about this girl that sets all my bells ringing. If I were a callous guy, I’d say it was because I haven’t had sex for six weeks and she’s convenient. First port in a storm.

  But although I can be a grumpy bastard at times, I’m not callous, and I am honest with myself. There’s more to it than convenience. I like Colette.

  “Should I come back tomorrow?” she asks.

  She thinks I’m going to send her back to the agency. I play with my pen for a moment. The cocky glint has vanished from her eyes, and she chews her bottom lip. I should send her back. She’s a crap secretary, and she’s only going to be trouble.

  My lips curve up. “I’ll see you in the morning. Maybe you should take the stairs, though.”

  Her eyes fill with relief, and then she squashes it to give me a cheeky grin. “Maybe we should get stuck in the elevator together.” She backs toward the door. “That would be fun.” Giving me a parting wink, she disappears around the corner.

  *

  The next day, when I walk out of my office just before eight, she’s already at her desk, tapping away with her two fingers at some report or other. Today, she’s wearing a navy suit with a lemon-colored blouse, and she’s braided her hair and pinned it up. I stifle a groan. There’s no way she could have known that I have a thing for braids.

  “Morning,” she says cheerfully as I approach her desk.

  “Good morning.” I glance around the office. “What, no smoke? No exploding equipment?”

  “Haha. There’s a new coffee machine, and it’s all ready to go. Would you like a cup?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I follow her over to the coffee station, and lean against the wall while she pops the capsule in the machine and begins brewing.

  “I have a special job for you today, if you’re up for it,” I tell her.

  Her eyebrows rise, and she looks interested. “Oh?”

  “Well, seeing as typing skills aren’t your forte…” I wait for her reaction.

  Her lips twist in a wry
smile. “Maybe not,” she admits reluctantly.

  “Hmm, well, Elen, Harry, Caleb, and I are going to be working on getting everything ready for the trial next week. I’ve finished the presentation, but we’ll need handouts for everyone, plus there’s a shedload of other documents and pamphlets, forms for them to sign, booklets to put together, as well as catering to organize for the day, that sort of thing. Are you up for it?”

  Her eyes light up. “I’d love to.”

  “Great. Okay, we’re starting at nine in the boardroom.”

  She gives me my coffee. “I look forward to it.”

  I close my hand around the mug, but for a moment she doesn’t release it, and our fingers brush. I watch her shiver, and through the lemon blouse I see her nipples appear like buttons beneath the fabric.

  This is a mistake, I tell myself, working so closely with her, but I can’t help it. I like being near her. Her smile lights me up inside, and the look in her eyes sends a tingle down my spine.

  “They told me you were scary,” she whispers.

  I study her lips. “Do you think I’m scary?” It would be so easy to kiss her. We’re standing close, and I’d only have to dip my head a few inches to brush my lips against hers. She’s wearing a pale pink gloss, and her lips shine in the sunlight that streams through the windows.

  Now they part, and I know she’s thinking about kissing me too. “No.” Her voice is little more than a squeak. “Well, maybe a little bit. In a good way.”

  “There’s a good way to be scary?”

  She moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue. “Maybe scary’s the wrong word.”

  “What’s the right word?”

  She gives a tiny, sexy shrug. “Dominating?”

  Jesus, I want to kiss her. I lower my head until our lips are not quite touching. “Do you like to be dominated, Miss Watson? Do you like your man to take charge?” The words are barely audible, my breath whispering across her lips. My libido’s gone from zero to a hundred in a second, and suddenly all I can think about is sex. My brain conjures up an image of her in my bed, wearing nothing but her lace-topped thigh highs, her hands tied to the slats of the headboard, leaving me all the time in the world to arouse her with my mouth.