Taking Charge (Like a Boss Book 1) Page 3

  “You all right?” she asks, amused.

  “Er, yeah. Sebastian asked if I wanted to help out with setting up the ALD trial.”

  She nods. “There’s a lot to do, but it should be fun. See you in the boardroom at nine?’

  “Sure.”

  She pauses, glances at his office, then back at me.

  “I know,” I tell her. “It’s okay. I’m aware he doesn’t bang the office staff.”

  She chews her lip. “Not until now.”

  I stare at her. “Pardon?”

  She shrugs. “He likes you.”

  I ignore the memory of his eyes boring into mine and shake my head. “He thinks I’m an idiot. I blew up half his office yesterday, and I type with two fingers.”

  She smiles. “I’m sure the other secretaries have told you that he’s had a lot of girlfriends. He’s never without female company for long.”

  My stomach flutters. “Are you advising that I’ll just be one in a long line of his many conquests?”

  She laughs. “No, jeez, not at all. Seb is… a singular guy. He’s extremely dedicated to his work, and everything else comes second. It consumes him, you know? Women tend to be little more than a brief distraction from the job.”

  I still don’t know where she’s going with this. “Including Rachel?”

  She doesn’t look surprised that I’ve heard about his ex. “Especially Rachel. That’s why he ended it, because all he wanted from her was sex, and I don’t think she was very good at it. Wait, that makes him sound shallow…”

  “You think?”

  She grins. “He thinks that’s all he wants from a woman. Harry and Caleb are the same, which is the reason we have the no-banging-the-secretary policy around here.”

  “So…”

  “You’re different.” She smiles, and, leaving me with that confusing declaration, she walks into Seb’s office, and shuts the door.

  I’m different? What the hell did she mean by that? I walk in a daze to the coffee machine. My heart’s racing, and, deciding that caffeine isn’t the answer, I pour myself a glass of water instead.

  Did she mean he looks at me differently? Or that I act differently toward him than other women do?

  I came so close to kissing him. There’s no doubt in my mind that he was thinking about kissing me. And his words… Do you like to be dominated, Miss Watson? Holy moly. I wanted to yell, No! What year do you think this is, 1852? Of course I don’t like being dominated. Just the notion of a man thinking he can tell me what to do makes me bristle.

  But I know that wasn’t what he meant. He was talking about sex. And that’s a whole other ballgame.

  I admit that sometimes I’ve scared men in bed. I know what I like, and I’m not afraid to tell them, and most men don’t like that. It’s been a long while since I’ve been with a guy who’s not afraid to stand up to me. Who’ll listen when I ask him to take me like this, and who’ll then flip me over and do it his own way, which is what I wanted in the first place. Something tells me Sebastian is that kind of guy, and suddenly I don’t care about the trial, or Liam, or anything else but the thought of getting Seb into bed, and letting him take me a hundred different ways until I can’t walk for a fortnight.

  I’ve got to calm down, because maybe he’s just flirting, and he’s serious about his no-bang policy. Or perhaps he’s one of those guys who likes to play with women, and it’s all about his ego, and he has no intention of following it through.

  Do you like your man to take charge?

  I shiver and return to my seat. I’m working with him for the rest of the day. How on earth am I going to cope?

  *

  As it happens, it ends up being one of the best days I’ve spent in a long time. Harry and Caleb turn out to be great guys, and their relationship with Sebastian only makes me like him more. The three of them are alike in many ways—driven, ambitious, focused, and hardworking, and clearly all of them are talented at what they do. They wear expensive, tailored suits, drive fast cars, and they’re all attractive and charming in their own way.

  They’re also very different, though. Where Sebastian is dark and stern and somewhat serious on the surface, Harry is more outgoing, witty and teasing, while Caleb is the quiet one, mysterious and thoughtful. Elen is the glue holding them together, and I can see what a major role she’s played in their relationship.

  We spend an hour or two around the glass table, along with the head of marketing, the head of HR, and Mrs. Stubbs, drawing up plans for the first day of the trial, when all the people taking part will be joining Hearktech’s staff at a nearby hotel and conference center. I learn that there are one hundred and twenty participants, out of which they expect a few not to turn up and a few more to drop out over the course of the four-week trial, hopefully leaving at least a hundred to complete the study.

  I don’t see the list, so I’m not able to add Liam’s name. But I still have three more days. I’m hopeful of being able to seize the opportunity at some point.

  After the initial meeting, I start work on putting together the packs of information for the participants, but it’s not long before Sebastian rescues me from Mrs. Stubbs’ wrath and takes me into an empty office.

  “She complained about me, didn’t she?” I ask him.

  “No,” he says, although I know she did. As I said, I’m useless at organizing stuff, and I won’t come close to being the sort of secretary she’s used to.

  “I have something that will better fit your talents,” he said.

  I picture him sweeping everything off his desk, ripping open my blouse, and kissing the living daylights out of me, and my eyes glaze over.

  “Stop it,” he scolds.

  I blink. “What?”

  Mumbling something under his breath, he steers me to the desk and pushes me into the seat. The desk has a laptop, a notepad and pen, and a phone. “You’re in charge of catering,” he says firmly. “Including Hearktech staff and those from our neighboring company who’ll be helping to fit the new hearing aids, we’ll need to feed one hundred and fifty people. So, we’ll need muffins and pastries for morning tea, sandwiches, savory options, and something sweet for lunch, and a snack for the afternoon, plus hot and cold drinks. We’ll need vegetarian, gluten-free, and dairy-free options. I need a quote from at least three reputable firms, along with a price for serving staff, and a few different lunch menus. Can you manage that without blowing something up or giving Mrs. Stubbs a heart attack?”

  “I can,” I say happily. This appeals to my talents much more.

  “All right.” He walks off, and then pauses in the doorway. “Lunch at one in the boardroom, okay?”

  “Save me a spot.” I open the laptop, log in, and open the search engine, ready to look for local catering firms. My gaze slides to the doorway. He’s still standing there. “There’s literally nothing in here I can destroy,” I complain. “Not even I can screw up a notepad and pen.” I click the top of it to prove my point. It promptly pings off, flicking blue ink all over my beautiful lemon blouse. “Fuck.”

  Sebastian chews his bottom lip. I don’t know if he’s fighting an urge to kiss me or slap me.

  I meet his gaze. Ohhh… he definitely wants to kiss me.

  He leaves the office without another word.

  Chapter Seven

  Sebastian

  The day flies by. There’s a lot to organize, and it turns out there’s an issue with the number of prototype ALDs we have ready, so I spend some time sorting that out before meeting the others in the boardroom for lunch.

  Colette’s already there, tucking into a chicken roll. Her blouse is now lemon with blue polka dots. As I take the seat opposite her and help myself to a couple of rolls, she slides a file over to me.

  “What this?”

  “What you asked for,” she says.

  I take a bite of a roll and open the file. It contains a sheaf of printouts, neatly organized with an index sheet on the front. It includes the three quotes I asked for, along with a
paragraph explaining which one she considers the best deal, several menus that include all the different dietary options, and a breakdown of costs for food, drinks, and serving staff.

  “Nice,” I say, suitably impressed.

  “There are some things I’m good at,” she says. She pops a piece of chicken in her mouth, and runs her tongue over her bottom lip. I don’t know if she meant that to be as sexy as it looks, but it makes me overheat within seconds.

  It’s becoming clear to me that this girl has discovered a way to get beneath my skin. Last night, after I got home, I spent most of the evening thinking about her, and today, even though I’m busy, I’ve been constantly picturing her blonde braid and her bright baby-blue eyes. The office is never somewhere I’d normally look for a relationship—that’s what nightclubs are for, where all parties are very clear what’s on the table.

  But she’s hooked me. I don’t know how, and I don’t really care—all I know is that she’s done something to my thermostat, and if I don’t have her soon, I run the risk of an internal meltdown.

  I only have to wait until the end of the week, and then I can ask her out properly, once she’s no longer temping here. Three-and-a-half days. Surely even I can last that long.

  But it only gets worse through the afternoon, as we work together on the trial, making sure everything’s organized at the conference center, including chairs and tables, private booths for the audiologists to fit the new hearing aids, and a program of events to try out the ALD and make sure everything is working before we send the participants home.

  Colette and I work side by side, and it’s not long before I’m finding it difficult to concentrate. She fills my senses. All I can smell is her perfume, an entrancing oriental, woody fragrance that I find deeply attractive. Even when we’re not talking, I listen to her chatting to Elen and the others, and I enjoy the way her laugh changes with the topic of conversation—Harry’s witty comments provoking a light giggle, and Caleb’s wry teasing causing a huskier chuckle. I find myself growing jealous that they’re making her laugh, and I keep asking her questions to bring her attention back to me. I know I’m being prehistoric and possessive—I can see it in Elen’s smirks and the guys’ wry smiles, but I can’t help it. I don’t want Colette looking at anyone else but me with that light in her eyes. In fact, I don’t want her looking at anyone else, period.

  To my pleasure, she offers to stay on for a while to get some of the work finished, and although Mrs. Stubbs and the other staff start to head home after six, it’s nearly seven by the time the five of us decide to wrap it up.

  Harry stretches and yawns. “I’m going to pick up a curry and go home. I feel like I could sleep for a fortnight.”

  Caleb, too, yawns, and packs up his briefcase. “I have a ton of work to do, but a curry sounds great.”

  “I’ll join you,” Elen says. “Seb? What about you?”

  I’m not in the mood for curry. I’m not in the mood for anything except Colette, and I don’t know what to do about it. For maybe the first time in my life, I’m not sure what to say. It’s clear to me that she likes me, but I’ve heard horror stories about guys in management who’ve come on to their staff, only to have it bite them in the ass when they decide they don’t want a relationship and the jilted girl sues them for sexual harassment.

  Does Colette want to join the others for a curry? I meet her gaze, and for once she’s not smiling, and her eyes are sultry. I decide to see if she’ll follow my lead. “Not for me, thanks. I’ll finish here and head home.”

  Elen nods and turns to the perky blonde. “What about you?”

  Colette lowers her gaze and picks up her purse. “Nah, I’m good, but thank you for asking me.” She walks out of the room and down to her desk.

  Elen packs up her things, then crosses behind me on her way out and bends to murmur, “I understand she blew up half the office yesterday.”

  “Something like that,” I say, amused. “She’s a bit of a rebel.”

  “Sounds to me like you need to take charge of that girl,” she advises. “Sort her out.”

  I give a short laugh. “What about the rules?”

  “Screw the rules. She likes you, Seb. Carpe diem, and all that.”

  I watch her walk out, and feel a buzz of excitement. It’s not just me. If Elen’s noticed it, then there must be something going on.

  Collecting my folders, I leave the boardroom and cross the corridor to my office. Most of the building is dark now, and I wave goodbye to the others as they head for the elevators, and I go into my room. Being midwinter, it’s completely dark outside. My desk lamp is on, meaning that in the window I can see my reflection, surrounded by the multi-colored lights of the city.

  I cross to my desk and put my folders there, and sit in my leather chair. Turning it, I look out at the high-rise buildings, and the cars snaking through the streets.

  In the reflection, I see Colette appear in the doorway. She pauses for a moment, and I watch her glance down the corridor, presumably checking that everyone has gone. Then she comes in.

  She shuts the door, and then she turns the button beneath the handle, locking it.

  My heart rate immediately doubles, but I don’t say anything, and I don’t move.

  I continue watching her as she drops her purse to the floor, along with the suit jacket she’s holding. She toes off her high heels the same way she did yesterday when she blew up the coffee machine. Then, on stockinged feet, she walks across the room and circles my desk to stand beside me.

  I pivot the chair so I’m facing her. She moves closer, so our knees are touching. Slowly, as if she’s afraid of startling me, she hitches up her skirt a little, then lifts a leg over mine so she’s straddling me, and lowers herself onto my lap.

  My heart’s thundering by now, but I just look up and stare, mesmerized by her blue eyes.

  She puts her arms around my neck, and dips her head until her lips brush mine. “Just so you know you didn’t misread the signs,” she whispers, and kisses me.

  Chapter Eight

  Colette

  I’m so terrified, I think I might faint. For a long moment, Sebastian doesn’t respond. It took every ounce of courage I possess to walk into this office and do what I’ve done, and if he doesn’t give me some sign soon that he’s agreeable to this, I’m going to leap off and run from the room as if my ass is on fire.

  He is agreeable, I know he is. For a start, where I’ve straddled him, I can feel his hard erection pressed against my mound, so I’m pretty sure he’s interested. I think I’ve shocked him, that’s all, and he needs a moment to come to terms with it.

  So, I take my time to kiss him, making the most of being in control. I press my lips to the corner of his mouth and kiss across them to the center. Light, soft kisses, experimental and unthreatening, tempting, teasing. His lips are firm but warm, and I heat right through at the knowledge that I’m actually doing this—I’m kissing Sebastian Wright! When did I get so brave?

  When I get to the other corner of his mouth, I move back a few inches and look into his eyes.

  They’re a greeny-gray, and I imagine they can be flinty hard if he’s angry, but at the moment they’re filled with warmth. He lifts a hand, and to my surprise he presses the clip that’s holding up my braid and releases it, letting the braid unfurl over my shoulder. My hair’s gotten quite long, and it falls to my breast in one long thick plait like Rapunzel’s.

  He slides it through his fingers, and I shiver, even though he’s not touching me, not really. He curls the end of the braid around his fingers and lifts his gaze to mine. It’s hot, amused, and as he begins to wind the braid tighter and tighter, I realize why as he brings my head down, forcing my lips close once again.

  When he’s only half an inch away, he slides his other arm around me, places the flat of his hand in the middle of my back, and holds me there as he closes the distance and kisses me.

  He’s kissing me! I didn’t make a mistake. Relief sweeps through me, and I relax
against him, opening my mouth, and welcoming his tongue as he brushes it inside. He tastes hot and sweet, and when he releases my braid and tightens both arms around me, I feel a surge of happiness and excitement.

  Tilting my head to the side so we can deepen the kiss, I sink my hands into his hair. It’s thick and silky on the top, shorter at the back, and I tighten my fingers in it, scraping my nails lightly across his scalp. He groans, and I feel it rumble through me, making my heart bang on my ribs. I’m affecting him—he’s as caught up in this as I am. The thought thrills me.

  I delve my tongue into his mouth, tasting him, and he exhales with an aaahhh and slides a hand to the nape of my neck, holding me there so I can’t pull back. He’s trying to take control. Trying to dominate.

  Well, I’m not going to let him do it that easily. I tug his hair until he breaks the kiss with a muffled exclamation, and then I move back up his thighs a few inches. Placing my hands on his shirt, I begin to loosen his tie.

  Sebastian lets me, keeping his gaze fixed on my face. He’s breathing fast, but it’s the only sign he’s turned on—apart from his impressive erection—because he’s amazingly calm considering that inside me is the equivalent of a two-year-old who’s had a bucketful of ice cream for dessert.

  I slide the end of the tie out of the knot and pull it from under his collar. Sebastian lifts his chin and helps me out with the tight button at the top, then leaves me to undo the rest. I take my time to pop them through the holes, enjoying the anticipation, as if it’s Christmas morning, and I’m unwrapping a sparkling parcel that’s been tempting me from under the tree.

  After reaching the bottom, I part the sides of his shirt to reveal his broad chest. I’m not surprised to find tanned skin and firm muscles—no doubt he vacations somewhere hot and expensive—and I fan my hands, brushing my fingers through the fine layer of hair that dusts his ribs.

  Then I draw my nails over his skin, and he sucks in air through his teeth. He’s not unaffected. He’s just remarkably good at not showing how turned on he is.