Contents
CHERISHING HER
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
STAY IN TOUCH
SNEAK PEEK
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 by Love Lust Publishing. All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cherishing Her
I didn’t feel threatened by his presence. I didn’t feel scared or worried… and I’d been nothing but for the last two years.
I could tell someone had hurt her.
I could see she was trying to fly under the radar, to go unnoticed.
I’d been around women that shared similar fates too much in my life not to have seen that look on her face.
But I saw her, I noticed. It was like a siren’s call.
How could I resist her, from the first day she stepped into my office? …that’s when everything changed.
Someone had hurt her, and that, in turn, made me want to hurt that someone.
If she'll just let me in enough to tell me who it was…
When I find them, there'll be hell to pay.
I had to make her mine… my Jessica.
Mine to keep safe.
Mine to protect.
Mine to love, to show her what a real man is like.
Mine to cherish.
***Cherishing Her is stand-alone read with no cheating, no cliffhangers, steamy scenes, and a guaranteed HEA. (Note: Contains themes which may be distressing to some readers. Recommended 18+.)***
Chapter 1
Max
“Who’s that?”
Pointing my finger through the wall of glass, my aim was a pretty young woman with hair like silk.
Okay, so I know that must sound trite. Hair like silk? What was this? A shampoo commercial? But seriously, I’d never seen hair like it.
Not only did it gleam under the bright lights of the reception area outside my office, the colors were insane. But crazier still was the notion that it was all natural.
There was way too much work there for that to have been anything other than the good Lord’s masterpiece.
There were so many golds and bronzes and shades of silvery white that my eyes were captured by the majesty of it. Sure, it could be a seriously expensive hair job at the salon, but fuck. That was the purview of rich housewives and mistresses; neither of which I had so that didn’t explain the stranger roaming around the ante office before me.
Derek, my PA, snorted. “She’s my assistant while Mary’s out.”
I blinked at that. “Who’s Mary?”
Derek sighed, but then, he had a habit of doing things like that. The man had been with me long enough for me not to mind. On anyone else, I’d have gone insane. Issued warnings, dire threats of employment loss, but Derek had been with me so damn long that I couldn’t find it in me to get too riled up at his antics. His sighs were as much a part of the furniture as my desk or the sofa opposite me that I slept on more than I did my bed at home.
Derek was caustic, sarcastic, and just Alpha enough not to knock swords with me without letting me get too big for my boots.
Considering Avalon had just hit the Fortune 500, it was very likely my boots were going to start getting too small for me.
Derek said it was his moral duty to keep me in line.
As the bastard was my best friend’s kid brother, I hadn’t knocked him out when he’d said that. Hell, who am I kidding? The last time I knocked someone out, it was by accident.
If knocking my head into a quarterback could be considered an accident…
There’s a reason I was nicknamed ‘The Wall’ back in college.
“Mary was my assistant,” he explained slowly, literally in slow motion. Jeez, the man treated me like I was mentally challenged sometimes. “You know? The one with the huge basketball tucked under her dress for the last three months?”
I’m anything but mentally challenged; Avalon’s status proves that, but still, I blinked.
Again.
Because what the fuck was he talking about? “She was pregnant?”
“Yeah, dumbass. She really was.” He shook his head. “Wow. You really didn’t notice? I mean, I know we’re not supposed to notice anymore. Heaven forbid we look anywhere else than a woman’s eyes, but she was huge.” He rubbed his chin, the scratching noise came as his nails rasped over his stubble—it was Movember, and the idiot was refusing to shave. He looked more hobo than chic in my opinion. “I wonder if she was having twins or something.” He shot me a look. “Seriously. You didn’t notice? I mean, she was this stick thing with this huge bump. How couldn’t you notice?”
I processed his bewilderment, rifling through my memory banks for the elusive assistant who I must have seen at some point but seriously couldn’t remember. “Redhead?”
Derek’s sigh sounded put upon, and I laughed despite myself. “No. She had brown hair. Dammit, Max. How can you be so smart and so dumb?”
“Attic theory,” I mocked.
“You know that’s bullshit.”
“I disagree. If I don’t consider it important, then why retain the information?”
“She was my assistant. That’s pretty important in this company. She stopped me from going crazy while we floated Avalon. Without her,” he said dramatically, “we’d never have made so much money.”
“Oh, it was all Mary, was it? Nothing to do with me?” I grinned at the idiot as I flipped him the bird.
“Okay, so yeah. You had something to do with it too.”
“Good to know. I guess that’s why I get paid so much, huh?” I asked mockingly, then, scowling, I turned back to the matter at hand. “How long has she been working here? Is she doing a good job?”
Derek turned to look over his shoulder. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
“Yeah. You tried it on with her?”
“And risk a lawsuit?” Derek snorted; he’d been burnt by what had happened last year, pre-float. “Nope.”
“Why? Just don’t be a lech. She’s a temporary employee. It’s not like we’re held to the same laws.”
“Well, doesn’t that make you sound like a douche?”
I laughed. “I don’t mean be a bastard or hurt her. I just mean…” I grimaced. “Okay, I’m going to stop digging my own grave now.”
Anyway, why the fuck am I encouraging him to ask her out? Hell, with hair like that, and if the whole package matches up, then I want first dibs.
“Yeah, best you do that,” Derek retorted, his tone dry.
“Anyway. You’re not interested?”
“Not really. Things are going well with Kayla and me at the moment.”
I cocked a brow, surprised enough to stop staring at the beauty in my outer office.
“You are?”
Derek was the epitome of the male slut. He’d had more girlfriends
than I had, which was saying something considering I’d made it a point not to get close to any woman since Jessica had come and gone in my life.
I’d learned my lesson.
Relationships were a bitch. Especially when your girlfriend could go in the dictionary under the title: man-hating slut.
Yeah.
How someone could be both, I wasn’t sure, but Jessica had managed to achieve that.
“Don’t sound so surprised,” he snapped, sounding sulky now.
I grinned, satisfied at riling him up. “Well, I kind of am. I mean, she’s not your type, is she?”
“Why? What’s wrong with her?”
“She has an IQ?”
Derek rolled his eyes. “I don’t always go for dumb blondes.”
“Yeah. You do.” My tone was drier than the Sahara. “I’m glad you and Kayla are getting on well though. She’s cool.”
And she was. Kayla was an attorney with the office Avalon used. They’d met over a boardroom table and even I’d sensed the sparks, even though I’d been focused on the meeting at hand. So, that said a lot about the sparks.
If I barely noticed a permanent employee who worked with my PA, then noticing something like sexual attraction? Yeah, normally that shit floated over my head. But the way Kayla and Derek had been together? There was no avoiding that crap. They’d looked like they could start fucking right there and then.
Derek sniffed; apparently not forgiving me for my blunder—making me hide a smile.
“Her name’s Jessica.”
My smile died.
“Who is?”
He peered over his shoulder. “She is.”
I gritted my teeth. “You’re kidding me?”
He chuckled—it was his turn to be satisfied. “Thought you’d just love that.”
“Fuck.” I ran a hand through my hair, rumpling the already rumpled locks.
“You can’t tar all Jessicas with the same brush, Max.”
“Can’t I?” I grumbled.
“So what,” he stated magnanimously, “you got screwed over by one. Lightning doesn’t strike twice, my friend.”
“You obviously haven’t read the statistics on that. It totally does strike twice.”
He heaved out a sigh. “You know what I mean.”
“Maybe.” I twisted my lips, then, flickered my gaze from his ugly mug and back to Jessica.
Jessica. Cut me some slack, Lord.
I rubbed my chin as I stared at that gorgeous head of hair—it was like a siren’s call. My eyes were glued to it like a magpie would be focused on a shiny piece of aluminum foil on the ground. I hated the simile but it was terrifyingly apropos.
I’ve never seen hair like it. It made me want to press my face into it, rub it against my lips. Feel it trail over my chest, pool in my groin as she did wicked things to my body.
Feeling said body start to respond from my thoughts alone, I gulped.
Derek clicked his fingers in front of me, making me grimace and scowl at him. “Was that really necessary?” I demanded.
“Very. If she looks through the glass, you look creepy as fuck. What’s wrong with you, man?” he asked, staring at me.
I wrinkled my nose. “Nothing.”
Watching as she got to her feet, I felt my head tilt, of its own volition, as I took in the ripe curves of her body.
Damn, she was fine.
Derek heaved an aggrieved breath. “I think we should talk about work now.”
“Why?” I switched my gaze to him. “Hardly necessary. We’ve finished, haven’t we?”
Because I knew I was right, and when wasn’t I right when it came down to work? I got to my feet. Buttoning the lapels of my suit coats together, I slid my hands over my front to get rid of any lint or dust. Scrabbling through my desk drawers, I found a brush and quickly ran it through my hair. Rubbing my cheeks to get some color into them—I didn’t know why, but talking about work always washed out my skin, like it sapped at my energy levels in a fundamental way or something.
That being done, I began to stride toward the door.
“Max! What the fuck are you doing?” Derek sounded amused, outraged, and shocked. “Get back here.”
I couldn’t stop myself from laughing at his demand. “Woof,” I barked, then shooting him a grin, headed out into the outer office, totally ignoring him otherwise.
Confidence wasn’t a problem with me. Not because I was a schmuck, although Derek would probably disagree with that, Alex, my best friend and his brother, would too. But mostly because it just never concerned me.
If Jessica didn’t want to flirt with me, then she didn’t have to flirt with me. It was as easy as that. No harm, no foul.
Striking up a conversation would be easy considering where we were…
“Would you like some coffee?”
Big blue eyes peered over the file she was reading. And boy, were they blue.
What the fuck was it with this woman?
Hair like a shampoo commercial and eyes that belonged on a National Geographic cover.
Wow. They were like sapphires. As cool as an azure pool I wanted to dive into, or as fresh and sparkling as the Mauritius Ocean.
She took me in lazily, then, when she’d finished and she realized who I was, she stiffened. Her shoulders dropped and her eyes widened as she put two and two together.
“Sir? You want coffee? I can run to Starbucks if you’d like?” Her shoulders were ramrod straight now. Such a perfect line that I could have set a ruler on them.
“No, not for me. For you.” I smiled at her, charmed when she blushed. “You looked busy.”
Her gaze darted from me to the office opposite her where I’d been sitting a few moments ago and where my PA, her boss, was undoubtedly gawking at the show in front of him.
“Is this a joke?” she asked, after she’d nibbled at her lip a second.
“No. I’m going to get some coffee and wondered if you’d like some too.”
She frowned, seeming stymied by my logic. “But you said you didn’t want coffee.”
“I did?” I thought about that a second, then shrugged it off. “I meant, I do want coffee, but I don’t need you to get it for me. I want to get some for you.”
When she looked even more confused, and I started to wonder if all that hair and those eyes were to make up for a deficient IQ, I just sighed. “Coffee? Yes or no?”
Another blink that shielded those diamond bright eyes from me.
She was just so incredibly beautiful.
Her face was round like a pixie’s and that fucking hair swirled over her shoulders in a way that reminded me of a woman’s hair underwater. It seemed to ripple, which I knew was impossible, but still, each slight movement of her head made it appear that way.
Her nose was as cute as a button and had freckles on it to boot.
She wore a white shirt, a neat black skirt, and low, smart heels. All in all, temp clothes for a job in an office. Inoffensive, unremarkable, but still, they missed rather than hit because to me, she was totally remarkable.
That she could look sexy in the blandest outfit I’d ever seen? Hell, it was like a miracle gone wrong or something.
Once again, my thoughts skewed to the bedroom. What would she look like underneath the bland wardrobe-equivalent of a paper sack? I couldn’t help but wonder. Couldn’t stop myself from picturing the shape underneath all the baggy fabric.
More than anything, I saw those clothes on my bedroom floor.
Hell, I’d totally sleep on my mattress and not my sofa if it meant she was between the sheets with me too.
“Was there something else, sir?” she asked, her voice a low whisper, but still, loud enough to jerk me from my heady thoughts.
I pursed my lips. “Do you want a cookie?”
Now, she scowled. “Is this some kind of dare? Or a bet?” She peered around me to glare at Derek. I shot a glance over my shoulder to see how he reacted to that and had to bite back a laugh to see his pout—Derek wasn’t used to bei
ng scowled at by hot chicks.
“It’s the beard,” I mouthed at him through the glass, laughing when he flipped me off. “Shave it,” I continued, grinning before I instantly sobered up when I turned back to look at her.
I batted my own baby blues, trying to look as innocent as possible. “No. It’s not a dare or a bet. Why would you think that?” I was kind of surprised by the question.
I was considered a maverick in financial circles, but that was it. Playful wasn’t something I was renowned for, and ever since I’d floated Avalon and had made a shit ton as well as having turned the heads of some financial bigwigs, there’d been a shit ton of interest in my character.
I’d had exposes and articles written about me in everything from Forbes to the New Yorker. That made people think they knew me; they didn’t. The reporters who’d interviewed me, every single one of them, had all pissed me off. They’d made insinuations I didn’t appreciate, and had talked over me because I process things a little differently—that hadn’t put me in their good books, and had made me a difficult subject to interview.
Well, fuck, there had to be some perks to the job!
“Then it has to be a joke,” she declared crossly. Blunt, too—I liked that. Jessica wasn’t afraid to say black was black just because I was in charge here. “The boss does not get coffee for the temp administrative assistant. It just isn’t done.”
I shook my head pityingly. “Then you’ve been working in some barbarous places.”
I could tell she didn’t want to, but she laughed nonetheless. I knew, from experience, that my humor could be disarming.
I usually processed things a little differently to most. Another man might have seen her hair and thought it was beautiful. I, on the other hand, thought it was mesmerizing.
I only wasn’t gaping at it because I was restraining myself from reaching out and touching it.
That really would freak her, and Derek, the fuck out. But the temptation? It was there. I wanted, so damn badly, to slide the locks through my fingers and trail it over my cheeks and jaw, feel the tickle, sure, but mostly, just have that silk against my skin. It took all I had not to focus on it, to stare her in the eyes.
Cherishing Her: A Protector Office Romance Page 1
