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  “I do,” I gulp. “I had an accident this morning . . .” And once I saw your picture, I had to do what any reasonable female would do: find my prettiest panties and matching bra.

  His eyes darken as if he can read my mind. I stand before him, his smolder making me wonder how in the hell I’m going to work alongside him every day.

  Maybe I can work on top of him. Or under him. Or . . .

  “I assume you’re Mallory,” he says, clearing his throat.

  “Yes.” I extend a hand, not sure if that’s necessary since we were basically hugging a few seconds ago. “You must be Mr. Landry?”

  He takes my palm in his, the size of his twice the size of mine, and shakes it gently. “I didn’t recognize you. You’ve . . . changed.”

  “So have you.”

  The corners of his lips drift up, pulling mine along with them. The exchange causes my heart to flutter, and I nervously tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

  As quickly as it came, the softness in his eyes vanishes. It’s replaced with a resolution—but to what, I don’t know. “First things first, I’m going to need you in your seat, ready to go, at eight on the dot.”

  “Of course,” I reply. Suddenly, I’m transported back to Latin club and he’s standing at my desk, asking me if I have a partner for our end-of-year project. My hands shake now, just as they did then.

  “Second, please, call me Graham.”

  “Okay.”

  He takes a deep breath, running his fingers through his rich, chestnut-colored hair. “I know we knew each other once upon a time and you are friends with my sisters, but that won’t factor in to your performance here. If that will be an issue at all, we need to discuss it now.”

  “Graham,” I say, throwing my shoulders back and ignoring how hot he looks with his furrowed brows, “as the CEO of Landry Holdings, I’m certain you did your due diligence before hiring me. If not, you got lucky because you have my word that I will blow your expectations out of the water.”

  His brows pull tighter, his freshly-shaven jaw working back and forth like he doesn’t quite know what to do with me. As his tongue darts across his bottom lip, leaving a trail of wetness behind, I gulp.

  I know exactly what you should do with me.

  He cuts the distance between us in half. As he looms overhead, my brain scatters, once again feeling like he just read my thoughts. It’s unnerving. So much so, in fact, that I’m ready to apologize. Before I can, he speaks.

  “Get situated at your desk, and I’ll alert Human Resources to your arrival.”

  After a lingering look that keeps me in place, he vanishes through the solid wood door and I can finally breathe again.

  Graham

  A catastrophe. That’s what this fucking day is.

  The clock flips to noon, reminding me how much time I’ve wasted today. I’m usually heading out for a quick bite to eat in between meetings and calls, having already put in a full day’s work for most people. Today? Nothing. I’ve got nothing except a serious case of blue balls and a migraine to boot.

  Linda was in her mid-fifties. On Friday, she would get here an hour early, send me a weekly recap mid-day, and forward me a finalized schedule for the following week before she left. She crocheted me a blanket last winter.

  That’s the assistant I want. Sharp. Efficient. Not hot.

  I don’t know which way to go to stop the bleeding first. There’s so much to catch up on—weeks’ worth of business, the security company to iron out, a stack of files higher than I’ve ever allowed to accumulate. But here I sit, a file open, untouched. Twenty-six calls to return on my desk phone alone and today was the day it was all supposed to get done. That was the plan and all I can do is sit here with half my attention aimed towards the door.

  I’m not sure if Linda ever laughed when my door was closed in the nearly ten years she worked for me. Mallory has five times today. I’m also not certain if Linda ever smelled like lavender or wore a dress that was soft to the touch.

  “Stop it,” I groan to myself, trying to wipe the image of her full lips out of my mind. “You’re acting like Lincoln. Damn it.”

  As if on cue, my phone rings and his name glows on the screen. “Hello?” I sigh.

  “You sound pissier than normal,” Lincoln snickers.

  “I was just thinking about you.”

  “That’s what they all say,” he jokes. “Seriously, though—what’s up?”

  “You, my little brother, were wrong.”

  “Uh, about what?”

  “Mallory Sims.”

  “Sienna’s friend?”

  “I like to think of her, for the next few hours, anyway, as my new executive assistant.”

  “What was I wrong about? I don’t even know her.”

  I whistle through my teeth. “I expected more from you, Linc. You have a reputation in this family and I counted on that. You failed me.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about, G?”

  “She’s hot.” I let that sink in a second. “If you weren’t all in love with Danielle, I probably wouldn’t even let you in my office ever again.”

  “Maybe I need to drop by today,” he jokes. “I’m not sure what you’re pissed about. If I needed a secretary, I’d get a hot one. Before Danielle, I mean. I would’ve before Danielle.”

  Rolling my eyes, I lean back in my chair. “Of course you would’ve because you’re an animal.”

  “Was. I was an animal.” He pauses. “I was an animal, wasn’t I? God. At least I have the memories,” he sighs.

  “Good for you. Go relive those while I try to figure out how to manage this.”

  “Need tips? I have some awesome tricks from all that animalistic behavior and I’m willing to share. Hell, someone should be able to use them these days.”

  “No, Linc.”

  “Oh! Barrett told me one the other day about grapes—”

  “Lincoln. Stop.” I tap my pen against the glass on top of my desk and wait for his laughing to subside. “I’m being serious here. How am I supposed to work with a girl that looks like she should be . . .”

  “Wrapped around your cock?” he offers.

  “Not helping.”

  Lincoln bursts out laughing again. “Sorry. I think this shit is funny as hell.”

  “You would,” I mutter.

  He finishes his amusement and clears his throat. “So, what are you going to do? Can you just ignore it? Or do you have to let her go because you can’t control yourself?” He pauses. “That’s it! I knew it! There’s a kinky animal buried in those stuck-up suits of yours trying to claw its way out, isn’t there?”

  “Lincoln . . .”

  He cackles. “You need me for advice. This has to be one of the best days of my life. I knew you’d need me sooner or later.”

  “There is nothing about this situation that warrants your advice. Come to think of it, there’s nothing about life that would make me need your two cents.”

  “Take a piece of ice and put it—”

  “I swear to God, if you don’t stop, I’m sending Ford over to kick your ass.”

  “You’ll send Ford because you can’t do it,” he teases.

  “I’ll send Ford because some of us have a fucking job to tend to, asshole.”

  We both chuckle and I feel the tension ease just a bit. Rising from my desk, I look at the back of my closed office door.

  She’s out there, just a few yards from me. Human Resources says she’s catching on, even deferring lunch today so she can learn more. I like that. That’s a good sign. My hard cock is not.

  “Did you know she was hot before you hired her?” Lincoln asks. “If so, that’s very un-Graham-like.”

  “No. In my defense,” I say over his objection, “I knew her in high school. She wasn’t hot. She was super smart.”

  “So she was a nerd like you?”

  “Anyway,” I sigh, continuing on, “I felt like I knew her. Her references were stellar. It never crossed my mind that this would be my
issue.”

  I keep thinking I’ll wake up, she’ll walk in, and this will have been a dream. A wet one, nearly, but a dream nonetheless. But until that happens, I need a fucking plan and all I can come up with is ordering uniforms. Ugly, puke-green, with a collar up the neck. No skin. At all. And maybe a muzzle because, as confusing as it is, her voice and smile fuck with me as much as her body.

  Lincoln chuckles. “I still don’t see how this is a problem. Think of her as . . . office décor. She’ll just give you something to look forward to in the morning. How interesting can . . . whatever it is you do all day . . . be? This is a godsend, G. Embrace it.”

  “I want to embrace it. That’s the fucking problem. I can’t have temptation staring at me all damn day.”

  “You can if you’re strong enough to say no. I mean, I’ve never been particularly good at that, but I’m sure it’s on your geek gene somewhere.”

  “Out of all our siblings, you are my least favorite.”

  “I can live with that,” he laughs. “I gotta go though. I have a meeting in a few. I’ll call you tonight.”

  “Call while it still qualifies as night and not morning, okay?”

  “I’ll try.”

  The line goes dead and I realize I’m still standing behind my desk, looking at the door.

  Mallory

  THE WATER IS HOT, NEARLY scalding, lapping against my chest. The air in the bathroom is steamy, fogging up the mirrors as I relax in a blissful, lavender-scented bath. All thoughts of the day—the insane tempo of Landry Holdings, the exhilaration of a first day, my sexy-as-hell boss that I can barely look at with a straight face—begin to melt into the water.

  Filling my body with the lovely mist, I feel Graham’s hand on my—

  “Excuse me.”

  “Oh!” I yelp, jumping in my office chair and bumping my knee on the underside of the desk. “I didn’t see you standing there.”

  “Because your eyes were closed,” Graham points out. My cheeks flush as I wonder how long he stood there and watched me. It’s a full minute before I realize he’s awaiting an explanation. It’s another minute before it’s obvious he will either get one or he’ll keep standing there.

  “I was visualizing,” I say, hoping we can now move on.

  “Visualizing what?”

  Getting ready to visualize you naked, but you ruined that. “I was doing a quick relaxation technique. Walking through what I plan on doing when I get home to relax from the stress of the day.”

  His sun-kissed skin pulls together along the ridge of his forehead. He looks at me like I’m crazy. I return the favor as a buzzing noise quietly sounds from my desktop phone, alerting me it’s five o’clock. The light at the top dims. How efficient.

  “Was today stressful for you?” he asks.

  “Kind of.” I rub my knee from the ding to the desk and stand. “It was my first day. Aren’t they always stressful?”

  “I haven’t had a first day in a long time,” he grins.

  “That’s probably true,” I admit. “Trust me, they stink.”

  “‘Stink’? Are we back in high school?”

  “Would you rather me say ‘suck’?”

  I don’t mean it to come out so sassy, so much like an innuendo. I guess that’s just what happens when a man stands before you in a suit and looks so good, you aren’t sure he could look better stripped down.

  His shoulders are wide, filling out the top of his jacket, his trim waist fitted with a brown leather belt. Everything fits him so perfectly, I’m sure it’s custom-made. So many men get worn by the suit. Graham Landry definitely wears his.

  “I think we need to change the subject,” he says, clearing his throat. “How do you feel about your day?”

  “Good. Gina, the girl from HR, trained me most of the day. There’s really not a lot here that’s different from any other administrative assistant job I’ve had. Just new systems, but they’re pretty easy to figure out.”

  “Besides being late, I thought you did a good job. Gina said you caught on fast.”

  He leans against the door, one foot over the other. I force myself not to let my gaze drop down the lines of his body and instead focus on the lines of his face. Not that it’s any easier, but more politically correct and it’ll be good to have a clear image for when I visualize it between my legs when I get home.

  “I just drafted an email, defining what I’m going to need you to take on in order to make this an effective working relationship. I know it’s past five, but if you can peruse it before you leave today and send me a response, that would be helpful.”

  “Sure.”

  He flashes me a half smile, one that he appears to have to force himself to give, and disappears inside his office again.

  The breath comes out heavier than I anticipate as I plop back down in my chair. Waking up my desktop, I wait for my email to open. As referenced, there is one new message in my inbox.

  * * *

  To: Mallory Sims, Administrative Assistant

  From: Graham Landry, CEO

  Re: Requirements

  Please note the bulleted items below. They are non-negotiable.

  Be on time. You must be at your seat, ready to go, by eight a.m., Monday through Friday.

  Keep your desk neat. Organization is key.

  I will email you a list of daily priorities by eight a.m. each morning. Ensure those tasks are completed before you leave (in addition to what may arise during the day).

  My family are the only people allowed in my office without an announcement. Additionally, they’re the only people I may be interrupted for during a meeting.

  Please familiarize yourself with the packet of information I left for you under your car keys (which I picked up from the floor and placed on the corner of your desk.)

  A simple response to this would be appreciated.

  Graham

  * * *

  Is he for real?

  Glancing across the desk, there is a set of papers under my keys and I have no idea when he put them there. I’ve been here all day. Turning back to the list, I look it over once more. Before I can hit reply, my inbox dings again. The body of the message is empty; only the “Re:” field has text.

  * * *

  To: Mallory Sims, Administrative Assistant

  From: Graham Landry, CEO

  Re: Amend previous email to include: Keep eyes open at desk.

  * * *

  I’m not sure he’s kidding.

  * * *

  To: Graham Landry, CEO

  From: Mallory Sims, Administrative Assistant

  Re: Requirements

  That all seems reasonable. I will see you tomorrow. On time.

  * * *

  “Hey, Kitty.” I greet my kitten with a nuzzle behind her grey ears. “What happened in your world today?”

  She stretches, the little bell on her collar jingling. The sun has nearly set and my apartment is soaking up the final few rays coming through the window. I flip on some lights and glance around on my way to the kitchen.

  It’s coming together. The walls still need a fresh coat of paint, but I just don’t have time to dedicate to that. Still, it looks a ton better than it did when I moved in here a few months ago. The couple before me had a more modern approach to decorating. Everything was white and black and straight lines. It was absurdly boring. The pottery pieces I’ve collected over my entire life help add some color and make it feel more like my own space, something I’ve never really had.

  Eric’s face zips through my mind and I feel my heart pitter just a little. I miss him. Of course I do. I didn’t leave him because I didn’t love him. I left him because he basically told me he planned on leaving me eventually.

  “You did what?” he hissed.

  “I dropped out of school,” I told him. “Nursing isn’t for me, Eric. It sounded like a good career path initially—good money, good job market. But I hate it. Loathe it. I’d rather stick a pencil in my eye and gouge my eyeballs out than do some of t
hose things. I just thought I could love it, and you thought it would be good for me.”

  “It is good for you,” he laughed angrily. “Mal, what do you think you’re going to do with your life? Huh? Making coffee in some businessman’s office is not a career path.”

  “I don’t just make coffee! I’m the Executive Assistant to the CEO. I’ve worked there for four years and have been promoted twice. I’m the highest paid administrative personnel in the building and I managed that while I was going to school for the last year. They say I’m a natural and I love it, Eric. It’s what I was born to do. Business is—”

  “Mal, sweetie, business isn’t for you. It’s for . . . other people.” He took off his jacket and looked at me. “Your boss probably likes having a young piece of ass in the office. Why wouldn’t he?” he sighed as red-hot tears blurred my eyes. “This is going to sound blunt, but you need to hear it. Your boss is blowing smoke up your ass to get you to spread your legs. And if you think I’m going to work my ass off to take care of you forever, you’re crazy.”

  My heart broke, his words strangled me. “I don’t,” I cried. “Why would you say that to me?”

  He looked at me with pity in his eyes. “Do you think I don’t realize what you did? You hitched a ride up here with me so you don’t end up like your parents. You thought I was your Golden Ticket.”

  “Eric,” I said through a smattering of tears. “I came because I love you.”

  “I love you too. But . . .” The look he gave me, more than pity, of indifference, slayed me. “You don’t really think you and I are going to last, right? I mean, we have fun. Sex is great. But we’re not, you know, marriage types.”

  Leaving him was the hardest thing I’ve ever done because it wasn’t just leaving him. It was leaving my life there, everything I knew as an adult, everything that was comfortable. Yet, being on my own, while scary as all get out, has been liberating. Making choices from dinner to my job are all mine. I’m actually creating my life and figuring out what works for me. For the first time in my life, I feel like I might be strong enough to do it.