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  “I stay out of my mother’s business,” I managed, trying not to splutter.

  He nodded as if he thought that was the case. “Then I’ll deal with it as I deem necessary.”

  “Do you…” I cleared my throat to put a little strength in my voice. “Do you do such thorough research on all your interviewees?”

  “Of those who advance to the next level, yes. This job is about two people working cohesively. I have no doubt you can do the day-to-day duties. All of the applicants could handle those. What I need to know is how you work under pressure, what your background is, your work ethic, things like that. I need to know the type of person I’m bringing with me into the trenches, so to speak.

  “I’ll also need to know that the person can operate on a personal level. My admin and I will be obligated to attend dinners, conferences, and other events. I need to know that my chosen partner can carry on conversations, can handle details, and can stay by my side for fifteen hours without each of us growing tired or angry with the other. This job is as much about personality as it is about ability. My admin and I form a tight bond for as long as she is in my employ, and I protect that bond with everything in my power.”

  Shivers traveled my body, turning into the heat I was starting to grow accustomed to. I nodded, still not knowing what to say.

  After analyzing me for a moment, he continued, “You’ve had a series of shallow boyfriends, starting with your first love in your senior year of high school.”

  My jaw went slack. “How could you possibly know that?”

  “He cheated on you, correct? And from there you dated similar types of men that all let you down one way or another, ending with Jonathan Banks.”

  My mouth snapped shut as pain consumed me. That breakup still hurt. All those breakups hurt, in one way or another. I’d been cheated on, lied to, ignored—I’d had a terrible track record with men. Something I didn’t like to tell others, for fear of being pitied. I didn’t want people to wonder what was wrong with me that I couldn’t hold on to a guy.

  And now, here I was, sitting in an interview for a job I didn’t really want, getting grilled about these horrible love lessons. If Hunter Carlisle was trying to knock me off balance, he was doing a damned fine job.

  “Why would any of this matter?” I asked, blinking away the sudden rise of emotion.

  “I am counting on you being jaded with love.”

  What the hell did me being jaded with love have to do with…

  And then I knew why. Before he even spoke again, I knew exactly what was coming next.

  “I’m going to be frank, Miss Jonston,” he said in a level tone. “Everything about this position hinges on the ability to remain emotionally detached. I’m not a hearts and flowers kind of guy. I’m an employer. My assistant and I will be physically intimate, but not emotionally so. To help maintain the boundary, I never kiss her lips, I don’t hold her hand, or do anything else that might confuse the circumstances. I won’t serenade you, Olivia, I’ll fuck you. And you’ll like it.”

  Fireworks went off in my body. I couldn’t tell if the thrill was from fear or arousal.

  I should’ve gotten up and walked out right then. I should’ve flipped him the bird and left. But the fire consuming me wouldn’t let me move. Despite my reservations, of which there were plenty, I knew he was right. If he was even half as good as Kimberly said, I would like it. A lot. And that terrified me.

  Breathing heavily, the pounding in my core matching the rush in my ears, I barely heard him continue. “You might be wondering what you’d get out of this situation?”

  I didn’t answer. I was trapped in his predatory gaze.

  “I have excellent connections, Olivia, not to mention that this position would open the door to departmental transfer. My assistants aren’t forever, and I wouldn’t expect you to stay past the two years necessary to transfer. I have all kinds of work crossing my desk. I would challenge you. I’d give you an education in business to rival that of computer sciences. You’d be better prepared for the work force after our time together.”

  He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk. “I want you, Olivia. Don’t think of this arrangement as a woman might traditionally think of sex—don’t think with your heart. Marry the job, like I have. Get intimate with your business partner, take what you need from me—use me—and then move on. Glorious, unfeeling business. It is the cure-all in situations like yours. And has always been in situations like mine.”

  I stared into that commanding gaze. I didn’t know what to say. How to act. He’d laid it all out for me, not bashful in the least. Not apologetic about what he was asking of me. In fact, he put the advantages in my hands, inviting me to use him. Suggesting I put myself into his employ with the understanding I would benefit the most from it.

  “Why me?” I couldn’t help but ask. “I don’t have half of what those other women do. Look at me.”

  His gaze bored into mine, unflinching. “I am looking at you.”

  I smoothed out my skirt, turning away.

  “I want you, Olivia,” he said softly, standing. “You would be perfect in this role. I’ve met with the two other candidates, and they’re not as smart as you, as driven, nor as malleable. I can shape you into excellence. You have the fundamentals, and I have the business experience. You could be great. In time you could lead a company like this one.”

  He came around the desk. Standing over me, his power shocked into my being. His command, and strength, his confidence, had my heart hammering as I looked up at that godlike face.

  His eyes smoldered. “I want to fuck you, Olivia, whenever I want, however I want. And I want you to beg me for it.” He took the binder out of my limp hands. “Stand up.”

  I stood before I knew what I was doing. He threw the binder to the side as those intense, lust-darkened eyes stared down into mine. He tilted my chin up and then bent, running his lips against the fevered skin of my neck.

  “I want to make you scream my name,” he murmured as his lips reached my jaw line. His hand dropped slowly, traveling down my chest and then over the swell of my breast.

  “Tell me you want to fuck me.” His voice was soft, but the command underneath was undeniable.

  I moaned, words unintelligible as that firm hand worked down my stomach. It left my body, then returned to my inner thigh. I closed my eyes, feeling his soft lips gently sucking at my neck. My body leaned into him, wanting this. Wanting him like I’d never wanted anyone’s touch in my life.

  “Tell me you want to fuck me. That you want to become mine,” he urged in that deceptively soft voice.

  His hand slowly worked up my inner thigh. My body trembled under his touch. My sex swelled with a need I couldn’t even begin to describe or understand. I couldn’t think. I could barely stand.

  “Say it, Olivia. Say you’re mine.”

  His hand reached my apex and moved over my panty-covered sex. I knew he could feel my wetness through the material. I whimpered as he rubbed softly. His digits moved to the edge before dipping under the lace lining and touching me, skin on skin.

  “Ohhh,” I sighed, my core winding up. My breath coming in fast pants.

  “Tell me, Olivia,” he repeated. His words were nothing more than breath on my ear. His fingers traced along my slit before firmly pushing inside of me, angled just right.

  “Oh God,” I moaned, my eyes fluttering, my hands gripping his shoulders. “Please.”

  “Please what, Olivia?” he asked, moving two fingers in and out. He worked a thumb to the top, circling my nub with firm pressure.

  “Oh please,” I begged. I wanted to bring his face closer to mine for a deep, sensuous kiss. To explore his mouth as he explored my body.

  His fingers sped up as dawning fought my desire-soaked thoughts. I recalled what he’d said about kissing. The words he had used, and was using. Fuck me. Make me his.

  He wanted to consume me. To strip me out of my body and mold me in a way he thought best.

 
The pleasure climbed, but so did the fear. The fear of letting go. The fear of losing control. The fear of someone taking from me the only thing I could truly call my own—free will.

  I pushed away, fighting my desire. Fighting my impulses. His hands fell away immediately. I staggered backward, not able to look up into his eyes. Afraid I’d give in totally if I did.

  Instead, I reached down and snatched up my handbag. I turned and walked for the door with a shaky step. The other job might not pay well, but it was purely professional, rather than having strings attached. I just didn’t trust myself with Hunter Carlisle. I didn’t trust that once I started saying yes, I could ever again say no.

  Chapter Four

  Two days later, the cool air hit my face as I walked down the street. I glanced at the paltry trees spaced along the edge of the sidewalk, their leaves turning a rustic orange and yellow with the waning season, and recalled the fire in Hunter Carlisle’s hooded eyes. Bedroom eyes. Sexy and intelligent, his gaze had stripped away my layers and rendered me a throbbing, pulsing mess.

  It was two long days since I’d run out of his office like a scared fawn. Since the hottest man I’d ever met had tempted me with coarse words, and then made me go hazy with a deft hand.

  I’d never experienced a man like him. The things he said should’ve made me want to slap him. Instead, I wanted to see him again. The effect he had on me made no sense. I wasn’t a prude or anything, but “fuck me” and “tell me you’re mine” weren’t usually up my alley. Yet here I was, walking down the street, daydreaming about the feel of his hard chest under my palms. Or his soft lips grazing my skin. Or his voice, telling me to give in.

  I shivered.

  Maybe it was a good thing I’d fled like a vampire from sunlight. My poor attempt at professionalism and self-control ended with his fingers tracing my panty line. I was no match for someone like him. If I gave him control, it would end in my getting attached, and him ripping my heart out like all the others.

  No dice.

  I took a deep breath as I made my way to a café where Kimberly waited for me, desperate to hear all the details. I’d talked to her on the phone, but something about my high-pitched, frenzied account of the hours I’d lost to his office left her unsatisfied.

  I wrestled my thoughts away from the dominating and confident man as I approached the few tables set up on the sidewalk of North Beach, an area known as the Italian District of San Francisco. Kimberly awaited me at a table closest to the street, looking out at the passersby while sipping a sparkling water. When she noticed me, she smiled in expectation.

  “Hi,” I said, taking the chair opposite her. I handed over the plastic bag filled with her neatly folded suit. I took her small designer handbag out of my big blue bag and gave her a pout. “I hate having to give this back.”

  Her smile took on an edge of seriousness. “You can use it for a while longer. I don’t need it right now.”

  “No, here.” I shook the bag. “Take it. It’s too small to fit all my stuff, anyway. It’s just the idea of the thing.”

  She laughed and took it, stowing it carefully before leaning on the table and looking at me. “So…?”

  The waiter bustled up, stopping any words from leaving my mouth. He delivered two menus and asked if I wanted a water or drink to start.

  “Just a water is fine, thanks,” I said.

  He gave me a nod and bustled away.

  “You turned down Mr. Carlisle.” Kimberly gave me a poignant gaze.

  “It’s for the best. I’m not the type of girl he’s looking for.”

  “And what about the job with Daddy? Did you call?”

  “I got home after five on Friday. I’ll call first thing tomorrow morning.”

  She nodded as she sipped her water and opened her menu. “At least you have a job to go to. That’s the main thing.”

  I opened my own menu, looking at the appetizers.

  In a nonchalant voice, Kimberly asked, “Did you…?”

  “No!” The word was trapped in a hasty release of breath. Heat warmed my cheeks and my body started to tingle, as it always did whenever I thought of his firm and delicious touch.

  I wiped my forehead, noticing a sly grin as Kimberly stared at me. I brought my menu up to cover my face. “Somehow, I didn’t, no.”

  I barely saw the top of her red hair shaking slowly. “How you said no is beyond me, Olivia Jonston. You are probably the only one. Ever.”

  I laid the menu down as the waiter came over. Realizing I hadn’t actually read the thing, I snatched it back up.

  “We need another minute,” Kimberly said to the man. Her scrutiny came back to me. “So what happened, exactly. Because no way was I saying no when he tried me out.”

  “How did he…initiate with you?” I asked in a low voice, rubbing my nose with my finger and half covering my face with my hand at the same time.

  Kimberly glanced around, and then lowered her voice. “We went through the interview questions, he brought up some personal items in my life that would fit, and some that might hinder us, and then told me he needed to see if we were physically compatible.”

  I waited for more.

  Kimberly stared for a moment before her brow crumpled. “Isn’t that what he said to you? I heard that’s his usual way of going about things.”

  Confused, I sat back. “That’s all he said? Because he was pretty…potty-mouthed with me.”

  An evil glint came to her eyes. “What did he say?”

  “I can’t believe I am talking about this. Or that I actually— Oh heavens, this is so not my usual…”

  “Spill, Olivia! I’ve always heard he initiates with what he said to me. I’m curious now.”

  “How do you know…all this when it’s supposed to be secret?” I asked to stall her.

  “I was asked to interview, just like you. Friends talk…”

  I looked at the sky. With a loud exhale to show her I was put out, I gave in. Leaning forward, so no one would hear, I said, “He said he wanted to…F me.” Her eyes widened. I filled her in with a detailed account of what happened, including how he wanted me to give myself to him.

  “Wow,” Kimberly breathed, fanning herself like she had in the café the other day. “And you said no?”

  “It was the mine comment.” I looked at my menu. “It kind of…crossed a line. I just remember fear coming over me. Then I was running.”

  Kimberly held her cool glass to her face. “This sounds pervy, but wow, Livy. It also sounds hot. I’d throw myself at him.”

  “I almost did. He had this soft, commanding voice when he was saying it. It turned my bones to liquid. I can’t believe I am telling you this.”

  “It helps to talk about it. An acquaintance of mine had actually been his admin; she’s always said he was…like…matter-of-fact about everything. He just took what he needed.”

  I crinkled my nose. “And she didn’t feel used?”

  “She got money and connections and everything out of it. And anyway—” Kimberly waved her hand, as if the conversation was off track “—it sounds bad, but he’s so good that it doesn’t seem robotic at all. My friend definitely wasn’t complaining. She told me she wished he wanted it more often.”

  I blew out a breath and stared, unfocused, at my menu. “I don’t know that I’d be okay with that. I’ve been dumped and cheated on enough that a guy just using me for sex like that, without feeling, would probably make me feel…bad. Worthless, kinda.”

  Kimberly made a sound, like meh. “It sounds worse than it is. I mean, when you explained the things he said to you, it sounded way different than how it felt when he said them, right?”

  I thought back to the aching in my body, and the fire consuming me. Heat coursed through my limbs before pooling in my core, as I remembered the desire in his eyes. The passion.

  I noticed a knowing expression. Her lips curled up into a grin.

  “Fair enough,” I conceded.

  With a smug smile, she pushed the menu awa
y. “Plus, you’re—” Kimberly’s eyes widened, looking over my shoulder. Her mouth rounded into an O.

  Wondering if I was about to be mowed down by a runaway bus or something, I glanced over my shoulder.

  My stomach rolled.

  Hunter Carlisle was striding up the street, his broad shoulders swinging with each step. His button-down shirt didn’t have a crease on it. It molded perfectly to those shoulders and hugged his well-defined chest. While he was wearing jeans, they weren’t worn like mere jeans; they were more stylish, somehow, fitting his contour and showing off powerful legs.

  He came to a stop right next to us. “Hello, ladies.”

  His deep baritone gave me a delicious shiver.

  “Hi…” I said. It sounded more like a balloon deflating than a greeting.

  His gaze swung to Kimberly. He extended an arm. The leather binder I’d borrowed reached toward her. “I believe this is yours.”

  “Oh…yes.” Kimberly’s face was a deep crimson. She gave him a beautiful smile.

  Without pausing to gawk at her beauty, like I was doing, he looked back at me. “I wondered if I might have a word?”

  My attention was caught in those burning, deep brown eyes, hinting at tousled hair and sex-slicked bodies. It was a very bad idea to be alone with this man. “I was just about to have lunch with Kimberly…”

  “Oh, I don’t mind. Seriously. At all.” Kimberly stood in a rush. Her wood chair squealed behind her as the legs scraped against the ground. “I have somewhere to be, anyway. Livy, honey, call me, okay?” She gave me a poignant look before turning to Hunter, standing much too close for a woman with a boyfriend. She held out her hand and slowed her movements, smiling up at him. “It was a pleasure seeing you again.”

  I would have to talk to Kimberly about her stance on leaving fallen soldiers behind. She’d abandoned me here with a colossal melter of panties.