The Dixon Brothers Trilogy: Hot Brits, Books 1-3

by Anna Durand

  I don't think he meant this.

  We slide into the booth, but Dane keeps an arm's length between us. The maître d' gives us menus and then leaves us here---alone, in our secluded, sexy booth.

  No, it's not the booth that's sexy. It's the man sitting beside me.

  A waitress arrives before we have a chance to say anything to each other. She sets down two glasses of water, then takes our orders and hurries away.

  We're alone. Again. In a romantic little corner booth.

  Dane fiddles with his shirt cuffs. "Well, I, ah---We should---" He clears his throat. "Tell me about yourself."

  "What do you want to know?"

  "Anything you'd care to tell me. For instance, do you have brothers or sisters?"

  "I have a sister. She's a doctor, currently working in Lebanon with Doctors Without Borders." Yeah, she's amazing. My piddly job as a PA sounds shallow and worthless in comparison. Not that I'm jealous of her. I love my sister. "Maddie is two years older than me. She's an epidemiologist, out there saving lives every day."

  "Do you get along?"

  "Sure. We always have, though we're not as close as I am with my two best friends."

  "You have best friends?"

  "Yeah. Don't you?" Oh jeez, that sounded rude. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to be mean. It just came out that way. But since we're getting to know each other, maybe you'll tell me more about you too."

  "Of course. And no, I don't have best friends. I have brothers, and we are close, but I don't know if we're best mate close."

  "Chance and Reese think you are."

  His brows hike up. "You know my brothers?"

  "Sure. Elena and Arden are my best friends."

  Dane stares at me, his face blank, for several seconds. Then he guzzles water from his glass. "You're friends with Elena and Arden. I did---Ah, I didn't know that."

  Why does he seem disturbed by the idea? "If you're worried I'll gossip to them about what you say to me, I assure you I won't. A good PA respects her employer's privacy and the confidentiality of work-related information."

  "I'm not worried about that. I was surprised, that's all." He takes another, more measured drink of water and studies me for a moment. "Do you know Celeste Arnaud, then?"

  "Yes. She's the one who asked me to be your PA."

  "Why would she do that?"

  "Because I needed a job, and she thought you and I would be a perfect fit." I realize how that might sound and add, "In terms of work. A perfect fit as employer and employee."

  "I see." He's still holding his water glass, but now he's gazing down into it like water is the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. "How long have you been a personal assistant?"

  "Ever since I graduated from college. I have a degree in liberal arts, which means I studied lots of different things." I wait a couple seconds to see if he looks unimpressed, but Dane watches me with interest. "Snooty people think liberal arts is a nothing degree, but it's served me well. My education included everything from math and science to ancient history. Whatever my boss wants, no matter what their career is, I have some kind of knowledge that can be useful to them."

  "You must be bored working with me. I haven't asked you to do anything except answer the phone and schedule my appointments."

  "I'm not bored." Because lusting after him keeps me occupied during lulls in my work duties. The thought of a gorgeous man like Dane designing sex toys... That makes me even hotter for him. And it reminds me of something I've wanted to ask him since day one. "May I ask you a personal question?"

  "Go on."

  "Why sex toys?"

  He jerks his head up. "What?"

  "I mean, why did you decide to design sex toys? It's not a common career choice."

  Dane taps his glass with one finger, his focus on the water inside it. "I, uh, couldn't decide what to do after university. My degree is in mechanical engineering, but the job I got after graduation was unbelievably dull. I couldn't imagine doing that for the rest of my life. I got a different job but still didn't feel inspired by my career. After trying two more positions, I thought I could do better if I started my own business. But I had no idea what that business should be."

  I inch a little closer to him.

  He sets his glass down but still avoids looking at me. "The girl I was dating at the time complained to me that none of the vibrators she bought gave her exactly what she wanted. I asked what she did want and, ah, she, um, told me in graphite---graphic detail."

  Is he blushing? No, it must be the lighting.

  Dane squirms, his mouth pinched. "Then she asked if I could make a vibrator for her, since I'm a mechanical engineer."

  "And did you make one for her?"

  He squirms again, and this time I'm sure he's blushing. "Yes. She...liked it. Things sort of mushroomed from there. Within three years, I had my own small factory near the chocolate-box village where I grew up. Online sales took off, especially after Chance's girlfriend started raving about my products on her website. She had a blog geared toward single women, and she often wrote about sex. I hadn't realized how popular her blog was until she recommended my devices to her fans."

  "What made you decide to merge your company with Bonsoir?"

  "Celeste convinced me it would be a smashing partnership. She also promised to make me an instant billionaire once the product line re-launches." He scratches the back of his neck, grimacing. "Not sure I want to be a billionaire. What would I do with all that money?"

  "Buy a small country?"

  He almost smiles, finally meeting my gaze. "Thank you for the suggestion, but I think I'll pass on that."

  "Just think, you could be King Dane of Dixonlandia." It should Hotlandia, but saying so would be unprofessional. "Doesn't every man want his own harem of adoring concubines?"

  Dane stares at me for several seconds, then his lips slide into a sexy grin and he chuckles.

  Holy cow, he smiled at me. And I was right. He is devastating when he smiles. And that throaty laugh... It makes me tingle all over.

  "I'll take your suggestion under advisement," he says. "I'm curious what your last PA job was."

  "For two years, I worked for a city councilman in Rhode Island. It was a tiny town, but we still had a city council."

  "Why did you leave that position?" He winces. "Sorry. Not my business, is it?"

  I shrug. "Doesn't bother me. I quit because the jerk sexually harassed me. He asked me to go to a conference with him, but it turned out he only took me along so he could come to my room late at night and try to get his grubby hands all over me."

  "That's awful. Did you call the police?"

  "No, he didn't do anything criminal. He got handsy, and I slugged him."

  Dane smiles again. "You can take care of yourself, can't you?"

  "Yep. I took self-defense classes and karate lessons." I cross my arms under my breasts and give him a teasing smile. "So you better not mess with me."

  "I wouldn't dare." He glances at my breasts, which I've inadvertently pushed up with my arms. "I hope you sued that bastard."

  "No, I didn't."

  "But Chance is a lawyer. Did you leave your job before Elena met him? I'm sure he would be happy to help."

  "I quit way before I ever met Elena or Chance. But I don't want to sue anybody. I just wanted a better job with a nicer boss." I tap a finger on his chest. "And I got one."

  He bows his head, clearing his throat. "I'm glad I'm better than a handsy councilman."

  "You definitely are."

  Dane lifts his head. "I don't remember seeing you at Chance and Elena's wedding, or at Reese and Arden's."

  "My appendix ruptured on the day before Elena and Chance's wedding. I spent the weekend in the hospital." I cross my legs, which draws Dane's attention. I swear I'm not trying to lure him into looking at my legs. It was a total accident. "As for Arden and Reese's wedding, my flight to England got canceled at the last minute because of a hurricane
. I'd been visiting my parents in Sweden, and I couldn't get another flight until the next day, which meant I arrived just in time for the last half hour of the reception. So yeah, I missed the weddings of both my best friends."

  "I'm sorry."

  "Not your fault." I shrug. "They showed me the videos, so it was almost like I was there. We weren't really close yet at that point, anyway. I hadn't known them very long. These days we're three peas in a pod."

  Our food arrives, and we chat some more while we eat. Dane loosens up some and has an easier time talking to me. He tells me funny things his brothers have done---especially Reese, who seems to get into a lot of trouble. Since marrying Arden, he's settled down somewhat. Dane also tells me about the people who work in his factory back in England, how they're like family to him. I tell him the story of how Elena and I met. After the debacle with the handsy councilman, I'd taken a receptionist job at a dentist's office while I looked for another PA position. I wound up working one floor below Raisa Volkov & Associates, the law firm where Elena was a paralegal.

  Dane stops stammering during our lunch together. He smiles when he talks about his family, and when I talk about mine.

  He asks if I want dessert, but I say no.

  "I'm too stuffed," I say, laying a hand over my belly.

  "Elena and Arden didn't tell you, did they?"

  "Tell me what?"

  He almost smirks. "That to us Brits, getting stuffed means having sex."

  "Really? Huh. I'll have to watch what I say to you, won't I? Might get myself fired for sexual harassment when I'm just telling you I'm too full to eat anymore."

  He studies me, his blue eyes obscured by his glasses. "Rika is a lovely name, but I've never heard it before."

  "It's short for Fredrika, which is Swedish. My dad is from Sweden. He moved to America for college and wound up staying because he fell in love with my mom, who's American."

  "You said once they live in Sweden now. Where exactly?"

  "Gothenburg, or Göteborg in Swedish. It's on the west coast. My dad got a job there five years ago."

  Dane pays the bill with cash, leaving a very generous tip, and we head for the front of the restaurant. When I see the dimly lit hallway that leads to the restrooms, I tell Dane I need to make a pit stop, then I go to the ladies' room.

  When I come out, Dane is standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall. When he sees me, he pushes away from the wall.

  I stop in front of him. "Ready to go?"

  "Not quite."

  He grasps my arms and backs me up to the wall, pressing his body into me, bending his head to get closer to my face. "One thing first."

  Dane's lips brush across mine, tempting me with the feather-light sensation, and his breaths tickle my skin. My lids flutter closed. The touch of his lips, the feel of his body, it all leaves me paralyzed in the best way. I flatten my palms on the wall while my fingers curl, scraping my nails over the surface. My breasts rub against his chest with every breath I struggle to take in, and my head grows light, my thoughts spiraling away from me. His entire body cages me to the wall while the bulge in his pants grows and stiffens, and an electrifying tingle of excitement shivers over my skin, raising goosebumps on my arms.

  A breathy moan rushes out of me. My body softens, and I part my lips for him.

  Dane pushes his tongue inside my mouth, sliding it around my tongue, the movements slow and sensual like he wants to taste every millimeter of my mouth. He grasps my hips, rocking his into me while he tugs my hips forward, making sure I feel every inch of his cock and the way it's hardening against me. He keeps kissing me in that intensely erotic way, so gentle and yet so powerful in his ability to set me on fire.

  I'm burning inside, ablaze with the need for him to love my whole body the way he's loving my mouth.

  This is wrong, isn't it? He's my boss. We shouldn't be doing this. But I don't care, because his lips feel so damn good, his tongue feels so damn good, and the hardness of his body and his erection pressing against me feels like heaven. I revel in the way he teases the roof of my mouth right before he wraps his tongue around mine. Oh God, he knows how to kiss.

  My nipples go stiff, aching for his mouth on them.

  Tunneling my fingers into his hair, I try to spread my legs for him, but my skirt prevents it. I whimper, partly from the way he's kissing me and partly because I want him inside me more than I've ever wanted a man before.

  He pulls away so suddenly I stand there frozen, with my eyes shut, for a few seconds before I realize he's not kissing me anymore.

  I blink several times.

  "We should get back to the office," he says, sounding unaffected and looking at me like I'm his PA and we didn't just enjoy a steamy kiss in the hallway of a restaurant.

  And we go back to the office.

  Chapter Four

  Dane

  For the rest of the day, and for two days after that, I avoid Rika as much as possible. What did I do? Nothing. Yes, I'm deluding myself in the worst way, but I can't work with the woman unless I convince myself nothing happened. I didn't kiss her. I certainly didn't thrust my tongue into her mouth and paste my entire body to hers. That never happened.

  Christ, she felt good, especially when her breasts were crushed against me.

  No, she didn't feel good because I never did that.

  I groan at my own stupidity. Do I actually believe I can erase what I did by pretending I'd never done it? Maybe not, but I can avoid Rika, thereby avoiding temptation too.

  Except I can't avoid her. Whenever she buzzes my phone, and I pick up so she can tell me about whatever call or meeting I need to deal with, I hear her lovely voice. She always sounds cheerful---sexily cheerful. And I wind up stammering and mumbling stupid things to her. I also wind up with a throbbing cock.

  Every time she knocks politely on my door, and I tell her to come in, she sashays up to my desk to give me whatever papers she's holding. It's usually something I need to review and sign. With her standing an arm's length away, I can't think well enough to read anything, so I pretend to consider the document even though I'm not seeing any of the words printed on the paper. Then I scrawl my signature and hand the document back to Rika, trying my damnedest not to glance at her.

  I do it anyway, every time. My eyes have a mind of their own.

  And of course, I'm left with an aching cock long after she leaves.

  On the third day, Rika brings me a large brown envelope and sets it down on my desk right in front of me. Naturally, she knocked before entering my office. And naturally, she looks exquisite this morning, in a pale-blue business suit that has a form-fitting skirt. Her shapely figure leaves me speechless, again.

  "Here you go," she says, her tone as bright as her smile. "Celeste sent over the mock-up of the new packaging. She wants your feedback on it."

  "Oh." I pry open the metal brads that hold the envelope closed. "Think---Thank you, Miss Saltzburg. Ah, Solberg. Sorry. Thank you, Miss Solberg."

  Every time I look at her, even obliquely, I get tongue-tied. It's ridiculous, but I seem to have no power to stop it. And every time I look at her, I remember my idea, the one that sounded brilliant a few days ago but now sounds like pure insanity. Still, the longer I gaze at her, the longer I admire her figure, the less insane that idea sounds.

  We have the chemistry to pull off a fake relationship. My outrageous impulse to kiss her in the restaurant proved that.

  No, I can't do it. She'll report me for sexual harassment, and I'll plead guilty.

  Rika pivots on her high heels and walks out the door.

  When she turns to close it, I hold up a hand. "Leave it open, please. I don't like being shut up in here by myself. At least with the door open, I sort of see you out there."

  I freeze, realizing what I've said. Why the fuck did I tell her that? Now she'll think I'm a pathetic fool who can't handle being on my own.

  She smiles---with sweetness, not pity. "Sure, I'll le
ave the door open. That'll make it easier for you to let me know when you need something. Just give me a holler."

  Rika returns to her desk.

  I can sort of see her there if I lean to the side and squint. But I do hear her voice when she answers the ringing phone. She has the loveliest voice I've ever heard.

  And the softest lips I've ever kissed.

  Focus, you idiot. Celeste Arnaud isn't paying you an enormous salary to daydream about Rika Solberg.

  Right. Back to work.

  I tip the large brown envelope up, letting the contents slide out onto my desk. It's a rectangle of red cardboard with the words Dane's Delights printed on it in gold lettering. But it's the picture in the upper left corner that shoots icy cold through my veins.

  A picture of me. My face. Below that, I see my name, and apparently, my new title---"Dane Dixon, the man behind the O's."

  "What the bloody hell?" I shout.

  Rika sprints into my office. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

  "No, I am not bloody okay." I raise the cardboard mock-up so she can see it. "Why is my face on the ruddy box?"

  She shrugs. "I'm guessing Celeste thought it needed a personal touch. Besides, you are the face of the company."

  Yes, I am technically the CEO of my little corner of Celeste's corporate empire. She left me in charge, but clearly, it's in name only. I would never have approved packaging that has my face plastered all over it---and that declares I'm the man behind the O's. What the fuck is that?

  Rika bites down on her upper lip, waiting for me to say something.

  All I can manage is a string of spluttering nonsense that never quite manages to become words.

  "What should I tell Celeste?" Rika asks. "She's waiting for your comments."

  I take a deep breath and summon all the wits I can still find. The rest seem to have flown away. "Please tell her I don't want my face on the box, and I definitely do not want to be called 'the man behind the O's.' I am not an adult film star."

  "Okay, I'll tell her."

  "And please take...this away." I shove the mock-up at her. "One viewing was enough."

  "Sure thing."

  Rika takes the cardboard monstrosity and hurries out the door.