The Handsome Devil (Kissing the Boss Book 1)

by Fionn Jameson

My mouth was dry and sickly sweet as though I'd fallen asleep sucking on candy.

  A rush of heat flowed to my lower regions as I remembered exactly what I had been sucking on.

  Holy hell.

  I struggled up, taking in one breath at a time, too aware of just how wired I was.

  If I tried hard enough, I could still remember how Nobuki had touched me, his hands in my hair, pulling me along his…

  I closed my eyes and ran a trembling hand down my sweaty body, my pajamas damp from sweat.

  The moment I slipped my hands into my panties, my face flushed, even though there was no one to see my shame.

  Yikes.

  I slipped one wet finger in my mouth.

  Nope.

  Just me.

  I was an idiot. What was I thinking? That somehow during the night, Nobuki had unlocked both locks on my front door and made love to me without waking me up?

  It was a stupid thought.

  But damn, it had been so vivid.

  So damn real.

  Almost too real.

  I glanced at the clock.

  Six-fifteen. I had half an hour to take a shower, get dressed, and regain some semblance of self-control before I took the bus to work.

  There was a knock at the front door.

  "Make sure you eat all the vegetables," I heard my mother say through the door and a faint clink as she set my lunch box down. "I know you don't like green peppers, but they were on sale and they're good for you, got it?"

  I rolled over and groaned into my pillow.

  Just another morning.

  Right.

  ***

  When I arrived at work, the door was open and I heard someone typing furiously inside.

  For once, I was glad Nobuki was such a workaholic. I couldn't face him, not after that dream.

  What was wrong with me?

  I knew my boss was an arrogant jerk who enjoyed making other people uncomfortable.

  Just because he was hot didn't mean a damn thing.

  Don't forget, he's also a certified genius and just about perfect in everything he does.

  I shoved my thoughts aside and plunged into the day's work. Most of it consisted of coordinating several project meetings for book launches.

  It was lunch time before I knew it.

  After a phone call with a well-known astrophysicist's personal assistant, I pushed back my seat, one hand on my lunch box.

  Nobuki was still typing, although now I heard his voice, low and husky, as he conversed quietly.

  At the sound of his voice, warmth flooded my cheeks.

  Damn it. It would be impossible to keep working for the man if I continued to have dreams like last night.

  The typing stopped.

  And then I heard a faint creak as the wheels of Nobuki's chair pushed back.

  He was moving.

  I had to get out before I saw him!

  I scrambled out of my chair, nearly tripping over the legs, and hastened around the desk, the door seeming more and more far away as every millisecond flashed by.

  Almost there.

  Almost—

  "Ah, Miss Hasegawa?"

  Damn it!

  The skin on my back pebbled at his voice. "Er. Yes, Mr. Miyano?"

  There was a pause, a very pregnant pause.

  I didn't dare turn around, not with my face so red.

  He cleared his throat. "Is something wrong, Miss Hasegawa?"

  I coughed. "Ah, no. Just, er, going to lunch."

  "Is that so?"

  He laughed.

  The sound was disturbingly familiar.

  I closed my eyes as an image of him between my thighs flashed in my mind. "Yes. Lunch. I need a break. This morning was very busy. Lot of things going on. Very busy, busy this morning has been."

  I was babbling and didn't care.

  "Can you at least face me when I'm talking to you?" he asked, amusement heavy in his voice. "Your back is hunched. Do you expect a whipping?"

  A whipping.

  Another vivid image, this one a BDSM-themed one, one with lots of black leather and white skin. It made my thighs rub together. "Hah, you have such a strange sense of humor, Mr. Miyano."

  "Miss Hasegawa?" His voice was closer now. "Are you all right? You're not—"

  In my mind, I saw his hand reaching out, aiming for my shoulder.

  Oh, God.

  If he touched me, I'd fall to pieces.

  And knowing the sadistic jerk, he'd never let me live it down.

  I turned around, holding out my lunch box like a shield.

  He was close.

  Close enough to touch.

  Too close.

  "Ye-yes?"

  His brows furrowed as he leaned towards me. "Are you okay? Are you sick? Your face is as red as a tomato."

  At his less than elegant words, some of the heat dissipated. "A…a little. I had a slight fever this morning. But I'm fine now."

  "Fever?"

  I thought he'd back away, because who wants to be around a sick person?

  Instead, he did the exact opposite.

  He placed one palm on my forehead.

  I jumped.

  His brow furrowed. "Is something wrong?"

  "Uh," I stammered. "I'm…I'm sick. You shouldn't be around me. The company needs you."

  "Perhaps," he said, his eyes unreadable as they roved over my now bright red face. "You do seem a bit hot."

  I wrenched away. "Please. You'll get sick!"

  "No," he replied, voice thoughtful. "I don't want that. But I wouldn't expect an ill employee to come to work."

  Oops. I didn't want to go home, not when I could exact my revenge in less than two hours.

  Except I was having trouble trying to remember why I had wanted to play a prank on him in the first place.

  "No!" I said, louder than I meant. "No. I'll be fine. I'm…I just need to drink a lot of water. That's all."

  He nodded wordlessly and moved back.

  Even so, his cologne tantalized my senses, and I thought my face was going to burst in flames.

  "I should…get to lunch," I said, hating how breathless I sounded.

  He nodded again, hands behind his back.

  I left the room then, wishing it didn't appear as though I was running away.

  But my exit was definitely a retreat, no doubt about it.

  Ayaka sat in our usual spot, although today, she had her arms crossed and was staring daggers at a group of people sitting a few tables away.

  As I walked past them, one of them, a plain, dumpy girl I think I saw in the editing department, hissed.

  Haru watched me coolly with large eyes surrounded by rows of fake lashes.

  Hm.

  Still, she didn't spring out of her seat to throw hot ramen broth on me, so I considered that a personal victory. Although, I'd be lying if I said the back of my neck didn't prickle madly. I kept expecting a judo chop to the top of my spine at any moment.

  Ayaka nodded to me as I slipped into the wrought iron, patio-style chair across from her.

  "Why are you so red? Are you having an allergic reaction to something?"

  I opened my mouth to say something, maybe even tell her about the crazy dream last night and how I couldn't dare to look my boss in the face.

  Ayaka turned to her salad, giving her back to Haru and her fan club girls. It was a very risky move, even if she wasn't the direct focus of their attention.

  "Hey, you okay?" she asked.

  I closed my mouth.

  I couldn't tell her.

  And that was strange.

  I could have told her anything, but not this time. I still remembered Nobuki's mouth on me, and my cheeks flushed even further.

  No, I couldn't share this with anyone. Not yet.

  "Seriously, are you sick?" asked Ayaka, reaching across the table, hand out to touch my forehead.

  I batted her arm away. "No, I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

  Her eyes narrowed. "Are you kidding? You've a
lways been such a crappy liar. It's written all over your face!"

  Self-consciously, I ran a hand down my cheeks. "I, uh, I was thinking about how angry I was with Haru."

  After a pause, she nodded, seemingly mollified. "No kidding. Don't worry. I'm keeping a close eye on them. If they so much as make a move in our direction, I'll give them a piece of my mind." She clucked her tongue in annoyance. "Haru needs to get over herself. She thinks she's such hot shit."

  "Yeah," I muttered, turning to my lunch, even though I wasn't very hungry.

  Wow, big surprise there.

  "So," said Ayaka lightly. "I heard rumors your boss is finding a secretary today. What's up with that? I thought you were his secretary? You know, with Aimi getting canned."

  I almost gagged on a mouthful of green peppers. I hated the damn things. But Mom was right. Kids were starving in Africa and peppers were good for me, much as I hated to admit it. I was an adult. I could do things I didn't like.

  "I'm not," I said, coughing into a napkin. "I'm the junior secretary, remember? The assistant to whomever he'll hire."

  She grimaced. "Don't you want the promotion? It's got to pay more. You'd get more respect. Might even get Haru and her stupid, brainless fan club off your back."

  The idea of spending so much time with Nobuki in my present condition was terrifying. "No way. The guy's an arrogant jerk. The less I do with him, the better. No, he needs to find someone else to bother."

  "Oh?" She grinned. "You mean, like Aimi bothering Mr. Abe?"

  I stopped, one forkful of sautéed green onions and chicken in a lightly sweetened miso sauce halfway to my mouth. "I was thinking about trying that again."

  Ayaka blinked. "You're going to find him someone to play with? At work? Are you serious? Do you like getting your bosses fired? You are so twisted."

  My shrug was nonchalant. I think. "When they're focusing on each other, they leave me alone. You know I couldn't work under the same conditions as you. I don't have your grace or your confidence. I'd worry myself straight into the hospital."

  She leaned back, a fork dangling from one elegant hand. "You're crazy, you know that?"

  "I'm smart, you mean."

  "You can't stand people watching you?" she asked thoughtfully.

  I shuddered. "I can't…I can't work under pressure."

  She stared. "Why'd you come here, then? This place is legendary for how it treats its underlings."

  "You know why. I love books."

  She was quiet for a second. "That's such a simple answer. You know, you're way too devious and over-qualified for your position. You went to Maeda University, didn't you?"

  I nodded, mouth full of food.

  She sniffed. "I applied there. I didn't make it."

  I probably should've told her my cousin-in-law worked in the admissions department, but I kept my mouth shut.

  She shook her head, laughing. "Your poor boss. He'll never know what hit him."

  Yeah, I was counting on it.

  ***

  When I came back to the office, I found a small white paper bag next to my keyboard and a sticky note on the computer monitor.

  Don't get sick. Illness decreases productivity.

  I regarded the bag and then opened it to find a small glass bottle promoting vitamin C and several aspirin tablets for fever reduction.

  Huh.

  I gazed at the bottle in my hand.

  Well, who would have thought?

  Nobuki was supposed to be at lunch. He probably went to the pharmacy down the street, came back to leave the medicine, and then left again.

  It was a fifteen minute task.

  I never thought I'd be worth five minutes of effort to him.

  A strangely chivalrous action from him and one I didn't expect, not since he'd told me how much he enjoyed embarrassing other people.

  I slipped the bag into my handbag and penned a thank you email.

  It was very proper and polite.

  It also had the personality of toast.

  Thank you for your concern. I will take these immediately.

  There.

  So polite and reserved, it was almost painful.

  Then again, Nobuki struck me as the formal sort.

  This note was right up his alley.

  I bit my lip, leaning back in my seat, and stared down at the paper bag nestled between dog-eared paperbacks in my handbag.

  The Nobuki from last night didn't exist.

  God, what a kick in the face.

  After sighing one more time, I shook my head free of unnecessary thoughts and got to work, giving a quick call to the HR department that the applicants were allowed to come up to my office.

  The sooner Nobuki dealt with someone else and our interaction ended, the better.

  I paused, fingers poised on the keyboard.

  Then, something occurred to me.

  Something that should've been obvious from the beginning.

  "Shit," I mumbled, staring at the blinking cursor on the screen.

  What if he already had a girlfriend?

  I assumed someone with that much of an arrogant ego probably didn't have a chance with the opposite sex. I mean, I thought my gender knew better than to curse themselves with the abomination known as Nobuki Miyano.

  Still, a haughty jerk-off could have an office affair, since that was just lust, right?

  So it didn't matter if he had a girlfriend, did it?

  And if he got fired like Aimi and Mr. Abe, well, that was even better, right?

  I rubbed the tip of my nose, trying to settle the whirlwind of thoughts thrashing around in my head.

  The sooner I forgot about him and the sooner I fell off his radar, the better.

  Which meant I had to put my plan into action, no matter how ill and immature this so-called plan was.

  Dreams were dreams. Even if I found Nobuki physically attractive, I refused to forgive his rude behavior.

  What about the medicine? Is that the action of a rude and arrogant asshole?

  I kicked my bag under the desk until I couldn't see it anymore.

  The phone rang, startling me.

  "He-hello?" I stammered.

  "Oh, hi, Rika!"

  It was Steady Saku.

  "Hey, would you do us a favor?"

  "What?" I asked, hand over my heart, trying to will it to slow down before it exploded.

  She sighed. "We were supposed to screen these applicants, but we're kind of stuck in the middle of something for the financial department. So apart from a brief perusal of their resumes and background checks, we haven't done anything else. Can you help?"

  I blinked. "Uh. Help? Isn't Mr. Miyano supposed to decide who he wants to work with?"

  "Well, yeah, but maybe you can screen them?" she asked. "I mean, you'll be working with them too, Rika. I'm sure your opinion counts. You don't want to work with another Aimi, do you?"

  "Um, no." I replied, although I wanted to say otherwise.

  "Ugh, what a disaster. I'm sorry you had to go through that. And they made you cover for them. How stressful!"

  "Yes…stressful," I muttered, mind racing a mile a minute. "So you want me to take them through a small interview before I send them in to Mr. Miyano?"

  "Exactly," said Saku jovially. "After all, you know better than anyone else what the job needs."

  That was true enough. "And the job does not need another…incident like last time, does it?"

  She laughed. "Well, I don't think we need to worry about Mr. Miyano going the same way as Mr. Abe. Your past boss was known to be a ladies' man, even before Aimi worked there. But, you know, Mr. Miyano is famous for being a workaholic. I think you have to worry more about getting him away from his computer than his assistant."

  Hah. We'll see. "You don't say…"

  "I'll send the first applicant now and you two can have a nice talk, hm?" said Saku. "If you like her, send her along to Mr. Miyano."

  I slid a glance at the dark, empty office across the room. "He's not he
re yet."

  "He'll be there soon. I think he's at lunch with the financial director, who I know has a meeting with Mr. Shimasaki in fifteen minutes."

  Lucky!

  A chance to put my plan into action.

  Everything was perfect. I'd get a chance to set Nobuki up with the perfect, beautiful, sexy assistant. If everything went well, they'd be pounding away on that table before I knew it, leaving me to do my job and read books on the sly.

  But it didn't feel perfect. I didn't feel perfect.

  Actually, my stomach churned.

  The idea that Nobuki and his future secretary would…

  "Okay, talk to you later," sang Saku.

  "Yeah. Sure. See you."

  Where the hell did she get her energy? I really needed some of it.

  The first applicant didn't take long to stride in, long hair fashionably straightened and flowing around her narrow shoulders, makeup applied with a deft touch.

  I felt dowdy in seconds and tried to push some loose strands of hair back into the messy bun at the nape of my neck.

  She stopped in the middle of the room and took everything in, paying little attention to the woman seated at the desk to her left.

  I waited for her to acknowledge me.

  After that leisurely look, which I found annoying, she gave me her attention with a sardonic twist to her pouty lips that I instantly disliked.

  "This is the marketing manager's office?"

  I nodded.

  She flicked hair over her shoulders and I thought of Haru.

  Ugh. Shokogan Publishing didn't need another Haru. I didn't need another Haru.

  "I'm here to apply for the executive assistant position."

  "Sure," I said and waved to the chair in front of my desk. "Won't you have a seat?"

  Frustration flashed across her pretty face.

  She hadn't expected this. But she complied.

  Good, very good.

  The first applicant crossed her legs and began bobbing her left foot.

  Now I was really annoyed.

  I tried to smile. It didn't work. "May I see your resume, please?"

  Her lips thinned. "I thought I would have an interview with Mr. Miyano."

  My smile faltered. "With me first, if that's okay with you."

  The moue on her face said it wasn't, but she obviously didn't want to put up a fuss.

  She was attractive, to be sure. But her attitude…hm.