BILLONIARE SECRETARY BABY

Chapter 6

It was nauseating, really; a crooked nose would have made him more approachable, more human. It was almost obnoxious for him to be this good-looking! And now that she knew what he looked like beneath his expensive, bespoke dark-gray suit, it was even worse. At thirty-three he was in his prime. He had washboard abs, a butt you could bounce a coin off, gorgeously muscled arms, and—her personal weakness—killer thighs and calves. And he certainly knew exactly how to use that perfect body to please a woman. No wonder his gorgeous lady friends were always hanging around even after he ended things with them—mind-blowing s*x and multiple orgasms could become dangerously addicting.

While Cami could definitely empathize with those women, amazing s*x wasn’t enough to make her moon over a guy or she’d be in serious trouble right now. Christain Greys epitomized masculine perfection; it was a damned crying shame such good looks were wasted on a nasty specimen like him.

To distract herself from the awkward situation with her boss, Cami turned her attention to the city just a window’s breadth away. She couldn’t remember ever seeing this many pedestrians in one place, hustling and bustling and going about their daily lives. She craned her neck and couldn’t prevent a giggle from escaping when she spotted a guy in a panda suit crossing the intersection in front of their car. She scrambled for her phone and managed to catch his back as he walked away, his gigantic panda head towering above the other, completely unconcerned pedestrians. Nobody even stared. She absently started taking a few more pics and then several selfies, trying to get as much of the city in the background as possible and adding the really good ones to f*******:, Twitter, and i********:. She positioned herself with her back to the window and took a few duckface selfies while they were stopped at a particularly busy intersection.

Christain was so engrossed in his reading that it took a while before the annoying clicking sound penetrated the heavy fog of statistics eddying in his brain. When he finally became aware of it, the click that followed was almost jarring as it jerked him fully aware of his surroundings. He looked over to where Chl—Cami—was sitting on the far end of the backseat and blinked when he saw her sucking in her cheeks, plumping up her lips, and lowering her chin as she held her phone slightly above face level and snapped a photograph. Well, that explained the annoying clicking. She shifted her chin slightly to the left and took another picture. Then another and another.

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“I hate to interrupt this narcissistic little lovefest you’ve got going on with your phone, Miss Gaspy, but surely you have something a little more productive to do with your time?”

She jumped and dropped her phone, which bounced off the seat and landed right between his shoes. She swore beneath her breath and bent over to retrieve it. He gaped as she squirmed her way between the front passenger seat and his knee, her round butt sticking up and wriggling temptingly right within cupping range of his hands. He held said hands up and away from her body in case they were tempted to do something stupid, like explore the silky smooth skin of her thighs, which was being revealed one tantalizing millimeter at a time as she maneuvered her way a little farther down.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do with the provocative, twisting bundle of femininity half draped over his lap, but when one sharp little elbow missed his groin by just an inch, he cursed and took hold of that same elbow and dragged her up onto the seat beside him.

“What in the ever-loving hell are you doing?” he asked, sounding livid even to himself.

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“My phone . . .”

“Yeah. I know. And I would have retrieved it for you. You didn’t have to drape yourself all over me to get to it.”

“I didn’t.” God, her cheeks were flushed, her usually sleek hair was a mess, and two of her mother-of-pearl blouse buttons had come undone to reveal the pretty Rick-lace edge of her bra. She looked like a woman who had just been soundly kissed, and because it aroused him to the point of pain, it brought his suspicious nature to bear.

“Are you coming on to me?” he hissed. “Wasn’t one night enough for you? If you want more than that, you need but say it. But don’t expect anything other than s*x from me. Just because you’re Matt’s sister doesn’t automatically entitle you to more than that. Once we get this deal out of the way, we can f**k again if that’s what you want, but it will never be more than that. Entender? Understand?”

“Oh, I entender,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, making him wonder at the extreme emotion he could sense just beneath the surface. “I entender that you’re a smug, arrogant butthole who thinks the sun revolves around him. I don’t like you. But then I don’t have to like you; you’re just my boss. And while I may have had a moment’s weakness last night, it just makes me human. And trust me, one night was enough to last a lifetime. It was great, but I’m not looking for an encore.”

Cami let her words sink in, knowing she had just kissed any future with this company good-bye. She allowed herself a moment’s regret before clearing her throat and pointing to the floor between his feet.

“Now, would you mind fetching my phone for me please, sir? I’d hate for you to get the wrong idea if I went fishing for it again.”

He kept his gaze level with hers, and the grim set of his mouth told her he wasn’t at all impressed with her. Well, to hell with him. His opinion mattered not at all.

“Just because we have shared some level of intimacy does not give you the right to speak to me so,” he said after a long and unnerving moment of silence. His voice teemed with barely restrained menace. “We are not contemporaries, we are not friends, and we are certainly not lovers.”

“No, we’re employee”—she touched her chest and then lifted the same hand to point at him—“and employer. You’re my boss, and as I very much doubt I’ll have a job after this anyway, I should probably voice my opinions now, while I have you here.”

“Why would you not have a job after this? You think I am so lacking in morals I would fire you because we spent a mutually pleasurable night together? That was last night, and we were done with work. In this car, right now, I am your employer, and I will be spoken to with respect.”

“Oh, does that mean I get to call you an arrogant butthole after hours?” She watched his face tighten and knew she was pushing every single danger button he possessed.

“What you call me in the privacy of your thoughts is of no concern to me. Just keep those thoughts to yourself.”

“So, you’re basically placing a gag order on me,” she clarified.

“If that is how you wish to perceive it, then so be it.”

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He reached down to retrieve her phone—a clear indicator he considered the conversation closed—and glanced at the screen before handing it over.

“This isn’t exactly what I would call professional behavior,” he said, nodding down at the ridiculous pouting picture of her on the screen.

Embarrassed, she cast her eyes down, hating to feel so completely wrong-footed.

“It was meant to be ironic,” she attempted to explain even while she knew he would never understand the intended humor behind the picture.

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“I trust you will conduct yourself appropriately at this meeting?”

Damn it. So much for trying to impress the man with her professionalism and ability to do the job. She tried her best to keep her reply humble.

“Yes, sir. I apologize if my earlier lack of professionalism caused you to think otherwise, sir,” she said in her best no-nonsense voice, although she couldn’t quite disguise the sarcasm dripping all over that last word. He raised his eyebrows, indicating he hadn’t missed the acerbity, then raked her body from top to toe with his gaze.

“You might want to run a comb through your hair,” he said, the words dripping with disdain. “Maybe reapply your lipstick while you’re at it. Oh, and I’m sure you’d like to adjust your skirt and button your blouse before we get there as well.”

Bastard.

She scooted back to her end of the seat and quickly straightened her skirt and fumblingly fixed her blouse, flushing a little when she noticed her bra was showing. A quick check of her hair and makeup confirmed the former was sticking up a bit and her lipstick was smudged at one corner of her mouth. Wait, how on earth had she managed to smudge her lipstick while trying to pick up her phone? Who did that? This day just got worse and worse and it wasn’t even eight o’clock yet. She reapplied it and quite pointedly turned her back on him to stare out the window.

She wasn’t going to let him dampen her excitement of being here, and if this was all she got to see of the city, then she was damned well going to soak it in while she could. She heard him snort softly behind her but ignored it, willing him to go back to his oh-so-critical preparation. He only needed her here to take notes, write his correspondence, and do all the other menial crap that required little to no thinking.

She knew Donna, his executive assistant, had a very challenging and intellectually stimulating job—she handled projects, ran the office in his absence, and had all manner of other important and interesting duties. But Christain didn’t trust Cami to do even a small percentage of what his precious Donna did, and she didn’t expect him to. She was nowhere near as qualified. He gave her the basic secretarial stuff to do while designating the more important tasks to other personal and executive assistants. The little he did entrust to her was always gone over by the man himself with a fine-tooth comb.

Naturally the other assistants were already swamped with their own regular duties and were starting to resent Cami for not doing the job she was being so handsomely paid for. They knew Matt and Christain were friends because Cami had foolishly mentioned it to one of the younger admin assistants in an aborted attempt to make friends. The woman had wasted no time spreading rumors that Cami had been hired because of the relationship between the two men. Nobody would ever accuse Christain of nepotism to his face, of course, so Cami bore the brunt of their hostility. After that, Cami had been a lot pickier about whom she spoke to at work. Luckily there were a number of other people who didn’t give the rumors any credence. People like Florence, the lovely tea lady; Solomon, the cheerful company driver;

Christain’s personal protection guys; and some of the junior staff members who didn’t get saddled with her extra work. Despite the short time she’d been working there, she had no shortage of new friends.

But the irony was that Cami hadn’t for even a second realized the Christain Greys of Greys International, Inc., was the same “Dan” whose name Matt casually dropped into conversation on occasion.

Matt and Christain had met in college and had become friends but were hardly the type of guys to invite each other to family gatherings, so Cami had never had the opportunity to meet the man. She had also been way too involved with her own life and her dancing—too wrapped up in herself—to care about Matthew and his boring friends. So it had come as a shock to learn Matt’s “Dan” was the Christain Greys of the renowned Greys International chain of five-star hotels and resorts.