Crave Me

by Geneva Lee

  It was also what excited me.

  “As long as there is clear differentiation between my job and being your girlfriend.” The implication was clear. Perhaps the way he’d been studying me since I walked into the room was simply him measuring me up, but it felt a lot more like he was fucking me with his eyes. I was used to that—used to men mentally screwing me. I just wasn’t interested in actually getting screwed. I didn’t need to be tempted to change my mind, and judging from the way my body responded to his penetrating gaze, I needed to make that crystal clear.

  “I assure you I have no interest in romance. Another man might utilize his position of authority over you, bribe you with presents, or make unsavory proposals. Our relationship will be strictly professional.” His voice trailed away as if he was leaving something out—a clause or an afterthought—but he didn’t finish the thought. “Do you have more questions for me?”

  I should, but I didn’t. It was getting harder to think in his presence. All I could do was shake my head.

  “Then I think we’re finished here.” It was an abrupt end to the interview, but one I had seen coming.

  It was for the best. Of that much I was certain. But despite all the red flags and warning signs, I couldn’t get past the lost opportunity. This job had paid. Well. I was doing okay financially, given the life-changing events of the last few months, but that largely had to do with my Aunt Jane refusing to take rent money and best friends who constantly picked up the tab.

  I mustered up the shred of dignity I had left and forced a smile. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”

  “You won’t have to,” he said dismissively, and my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. “I’ll expect you here tomorrow at one to discuss my current agenda and needs.”

  I tried to look past the suggestiveness of those words and focus on the fact that I’d actually landed the job. “I’ll be here.” “Be prompt, Miss Stuart. I’m not a man who likes to wait.”

  A sharp sting sang through my lower lip, and I realized I was biting it. Smith’s eyes lingered on my mouth. He’d noticed before I had, and despite what he’d said about our relationship, the hunger burning in his gaze was anything but professional.

  I needed to get out of here and clear my head. It was the only way I could decide if I would be in this office tomorrow at noon or sending a cowardly email. I popped out of my chair, relieved to be the one lording over the room in my four- inch heels. I paused, hovering in front of his desk. “Let’s be clear on one thing. I’ll attend these functions. I’ll work from your home. But I’m not sleeping with you.”

  “Noted,” he said, but his answer was anything but reassuring. I couldn’t be certain if he viewed me as a challenge or a done deal. Either way, I knew one thing: keeping my legs shut in the presence of Smith Price was going to prove difficult. Maybe impossible.

  But it was one challenge I was happy to accept.

  Coco’s was overrun by the time I made my way from Kensington to Notting Hill. The once quaint bistro had become a haven for curious tourists and paparazzi hoping to snap a picture of the Royal baby bump ever since the tabloids had run a story about the weekly dinner date I kept with Edward and Clara at the establishment. Pushing my way through the crowd, I caught sight of Clyde, Coco’s manager. He dabbed a napkin across his forehead as he scanned the crowd. I couldn’t help but notice that the lines on his forehead had deepened as his hairline had receded since he’d taken up crowd control. I’d grown fond of him, making a point to come in the front door to be sure I saw him each week.

  “Clyde!” I called, waving my arm over my head. It was undignified, but so was being smashed between smelly wannabe photographers.

  Clyde released a long breath and sprung into action, motioning for servers to help make a path for me. As soon as I was at his side, he whisked me through the kitchen and up the backstairs to a private dining room.

  “The crowd is worse than ever.” I shouldered my purse as I slowed my pace to match the weary restaurateur.

  “They seem to be swellin’ along with Clara’s belly,” he said in his thick Irish brogue. “I don’t know how many more souls we can fit into this establishment. It’s fixin’ to burst.”

  “So is Clara,” I said in a teasing whisper. “Once the baby comes, we’ll be out of your hair.” I suddenly wished I could take the comment about his hair back, but Clyde only nodded sadly.

  “It’s not been any trouble to have you here.” He held open the door for me.

  “We both know that’s not true.” I stepped inside and paused before planting a small kiss on his cheek. This might very well be the last time we saw him for a while. “Thank you for everything.”

  “It’s been no trouble,” he repeated gruffly before excusing himself.

  “Flustering Clyde?” Edward tsked as he stood to give me a hug. “A kiss from a pretty girl? I’m not sure his heart can take any more stress. “

  “I was simply thanking him.” I swatted at his shoulder, but Edward only laughed and pulled out a chair for me. “She’s not here yet?”

  Edward took a long sip of his wine, sighing as he set the glass back down. “Alexander has gone into full-scale alpha mode.”

  “When isn’t he in alpha mode?” I asked dryly as I poured my own glass from the open bottle.

  “She’s due in two weeks. He has a right to be protective.” The response was dismissive. Edward, like most of us, had a tendency to forgive his older brother’s need for control.

  I might have argued with his logic if Clara hadn’t been a magnet for trouble in the last year and a half. As it was, it made me feel better that Alexander kept such close tabs on her—most of the time. The rest of the time I wished I saw her more often. I doubted it had less to do with Alexander’s protectiveness and more to do with the near obsession the two displayed toward one another.

  “I guess we should all be so lucky.” I shrugged my shoulders and settled back in my chair.

  “I suppose.” Edward’s mouth twisted into a wry grin. “David isn’t exactly the type.”

  I winked at him. “Maybe that’s your job.”

  “What’s his job?” a tired voice asked from behind me. A moment later, Clara was at the table, lowering herself slowly into the remaining chair with one hand cradling her ever-growing bump protectively. She might have sounded exhausted, but her fair skin glowed and her chestnut hair had even more bounce than normal. I might have hated her if I didn’t love her so much.

  “We’re trying to decide who’s the Alexander in my relationship.”

  Clara grimaced. “Hopefully neither of you.”

  “Trouble in paradise?” Edward’s forehead crinkled in concern.

  “He’s just being a tad overbearing. You’re lucky I convinced him to let me come at all tonight. Norris and half of the British Armed Forces are downstairs. What’s the point of having a back entrance if you show up with a small army?” She patted her stomach and smiled grudgingly. “I imagine it will be even worse when she makes her appearance.”

  “We’ll come to you,” I promised her. “And it’s not so terrible to have someone looking out for you.”

  Clara locked eyes with me and nodded, immediately sending a wave of guilt rushing through me. I hadn’t meant it to sound like sour grapes but it had. The fact that she was happily married wasn’t anything to feel badly about. I’d told her that a hundred times, but it never quite sunk in.

  “So I have news.” I unrolled my silverware as I quickly switched topics.

  “Tell me you got laid!” Edward threw his hands up in a pleading gesture to the heavens.

  “Very funny,” I said, tossing the napkin at his head. “I have sworn off men, remember?”

  “Then tell me you got a vibrator, love,” he retorted.

  “She had one long before she broke up with Philip,” Clara said dryly.

  I wagged a finger at her. “That is true. But sadly, this news doesn’t end in an O. I merely got a job.”

  “That’s fan
tastic.” Edward’s face split, as if this announcement was half as exciting as finding out I’d shagged someone.

  “What happened to your idea for that clothing company?” Clara asked.

  “Oh, I’ll never get around to that,” I lied. I’d only mentioned the idea once to my best friend, but Clara never forgot anything. There was no point in involving either of them in something that was likely a pipe dream. Especially because I knew they would both be all too eager to finance the venture, which was the last thing I wanted. “Office work is the boring stuff us mere mortals are made of.”

  “Uh-uh!” Clara mimicked my earlier finger wag. “You were aristocracy long before I was.”

  “Ah well, that hasn’t really worked out too well for my family,” I reminded her. I didn’t add that my mother’s perpetually failing estate was one of the many reasons that I needed said job. “A girl must eat.”

  “And eat we shall,” Edward said as a waiter appeared with our standing order.

  I reached for the serving spoon, and he batted away my hand.

  “No, us immortals shall eat while you entertain us with tales of your lowly peasant existence. What is this job you speak of?”

  Clara meanwhile grabbed the spoon and started ladling pasta onto my plate. “Eat, but do tell.”

  “I’m going to be a personal assistant.” I twirled my fork in the pasta, my stomach rumbling as I watched the decadent Alfredo sauce coat the linguini.

  “To a celebrity?” Edward asked.

  “To a lawyer,” I said before slowly slurping down the noodles.

  “Distinctly less glamourous.”

  “You haven’t seen the lawyer.” It was out of my mouth before I’d really considered the ammunition I was giving them.

  “Oh really?” Clara’s voice peaked in excitement.

  “She’s going to sleep with him,” Edward noted, as if it was already a proven fact.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” I warned them. “He seems like a first-class knobhead.”

  Clara and Edward shared a knowing look.

  “She’s definitely going to sleep with him,” Edward predicted. “She’s already thinking about his knob.”

  The lights were low in my flat when I stepped inside. Music drifted across the open space in a slow sensual melody that crackled slightly. I peeked around the corner, not wanting to disturb my aunt, and watched as she swayed softly, her loose kaftan swirling in a muted rainbow around her elegant form. I’d always idolized my aunt with her wild platinum hair and even wilder clothes. The fact that she was as spirited as she looked was an added bonus.

  “Tell me about your day,” she called without ever turning around.

  “I can wait.” I slid my purse onto the kitchen counter and lingered there, resisting the urge to drum my fingernails against the granite.

  “Nonsense.” Jane swooped to retrieve a bottle of wine from the cabinet. “Grab the glasses.”

  A sense of peace settled over me as I plucked two long-stemmed globes from the shelf and placed them on the counter. Most twenty-somethings would have minded living with a family member, but I had no such qualms. Jane was a hurricane of a woman, constantly shifting and moving from place to place—and man to man. I hadn’t been ready to live on my own when Clara got married, especially not after ending my own engagement. Making the choice to move in with Jane had been simple, and given how hard it had been to find a stable job over the last few months, I’d become increasingly glad she had asked me to live with her.

  “How was the interview?” she asked, passing me a full wine glass.

  “Interesting.” I tapped my finger on the delicate stem, watching as the thin crimson liquid swished along the sides of the globe, coating it for a moment before retreating back to the bottom.

  Jane raised a penciled eyebrow. “How so?”

  “Well, I got the job.” I paused as I searched for the right words.

  “But it scares you,” Jane guessed.

  “My boss scares me,” I admitted.

  “Is he an asshole? Or does he just have a stick up his ass like most lawyers?”

  “I can’t tell. He’s direct.” I continued to choose my words carefully. Not because I wanted to keep anything from Jane, but because I was trying to understand the emotions tumbling through me. Just thinking about the interview had produced tiny flutters of anxiety in my belly.

  “And powerful?”

  I nodded. He was definitely that. I knew very little about Smith Price, but that much I could sense. Power. Authority. He radiated those qualities. They emanated off him like rays from the sun, and I suspected that if I didn’t have the good sense to protect myself, I was going to wind up burned.

  “And handsome,” Jane finished for me.

  “Yes,” I whispered as my stomach did a little flip. “I’m afraid that working for him is going to get me into trouble.”

  Jane reached over and took my hand, shaking her head as a bell-like laugh peeled from her. “You could use a little trouble.”

  “I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.” It was the last thing I was looking for after Philip. But Jane always had a tendency to flit from love affair to love affair. It made her happy, but it wasn’t what I was looking for in life. “I want to focus on me and work on my business plan, not get distracted by a man.”

  “The thing about distractions is that they’re necessary. You can’t work constantly. That’s no life. Every woman needs a healthy dose of romance. You don’t have to choose between a career and love,” she said softly.

  “Maybe I don’t know what’s healthy,” I pointed out, my eyes darting to study the table. “I was going to marry a man who was in love with someone else.”

  “Belle.” Jane’s voice took on a gentle tone as she said my name. “You were infatuated by the idea of love. The wedding. The lifestyle. You wanted stability, and God knows, after your childhood, no one could blame you for that.”

  “Now I want my own stability.” I lifted my head and met her gaze.

  “Then make that happen, but don’t stop living. Not taking chances isn’t stability, it’s a slow way to die.”

  “So I should take the job?” I asked.

  “Do you need the job?”

  “That depends,” I said, grinning despite myself, “how long can I keep paying rent in cheap wine?”

  “Take the job and pay me in good wine.” Jane winked. “I don’t want rent from you, but I do want you to start this business. So unless you’ve had a change of heart about investors...”

  I waved a hand. “I need to get it started by myself.”

  I had no idea if there was room for my company in the marketplace. So much had changed since I’d been at university, there was no way I was taking Jane’s nor anyone else’s money until I was standing on my own two feet.

  “You know I won’t pressure you, but the offer is always open.”

  “I know.” I took a long sip of my wine before abandoning my glass. “I should get some sleep. It seems I have work tomorrow.”

  “Belle, have you told your mother...about the job?”

  I tensed, my body responding automatically to the mere idea of calling her. “Not yet.”

  “Don’t,” Jane advised.

  “She’ll find out.”

  “Then that will be soon enough.” Jane stood and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “If you want to focus on you, that might be a good place to start.”

  “You might be right about that.” But even though I knew she was, a heaviness had already descended on my chest. I shook my head, trying to clear the wave of guilt.

  Jane gave me a small smile and pressed me close, hugging me until the guilt disappeared entirely. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Will you still be proud of me if I break down and throw myself at my boss?” I asked wryly.

  “Darling, nothing would make me prouder.”

  It was five minutes past one—an inauspicious start to my new assistant’s career. My fingertips drummed across the windo
wsill. I didn’t appreciate waiting. I hadn’t waited for any woman in the last three years. If Belle Stuart hadn’t intrigued me so damn much, I’d have already left instructions with my receptionist to show her right back out the door when she deigned to show up. Doris, the old battle-axe that I’d employed for the last five years, would have no problem giving her the boot.

  It was a mistake not to send her packing. I had finally settled on this fact when a soft knock that definitely didn’t belong to Doris announced she was here.

  I straightened up, clasping my hands behind my back, and waited a moment before I answered. “Enter.”

  The door opened, but I kept my back to her, training my eyes on the street outside. It was important that she learned early on that she didn’t command my attention, rather that I would choose when to give it to her. That didn’t mean I was immune to her presence though. Her soft breathing carried across the silent room, and my fingers tightened over my wrist.

  A mistake.

  Given my position by the window and given that my arms were crossed behind my back, the movement was in her line of sight. It didn’t matter if she’d actually seen it. I’d make another mistake in the presence of Belle Stuart. My first might have been hiring her in the first place. I couldn’t allow myself to be affected by her. She must only be permitted to see what I allowed. No more slip-ups. The fact that I was aware of the problem would presumably make it easier to contend with it in the future.

  “Mr. Price.” Her words were timid. Unlike the woman I’d interviewed the previous day. Perhaps she would prove a study in contrasts. Strong but vulnerable. Cold and still inviting. A lady in clothes and something dangerously wild out of them.

  Time would tell.

  Of course, it might be embarrassment over her tardiness.

  I turned to her before I made another mistake. My hand curled into a fist, stifling the twitch that tingled across my palm. Maintaining control was going to prove a challenge around her, especially if she chose to blatantly ignore my instructions. For now, a simple correction was in order, but I had no doubt that eventually I’d have the pleasure of giving her a much more serious reprimand. “Smith.”