by Lara Hunter
How long would it take for my client to be able to use the evidence against Lucas? I’d emailed a copy of the agency’s receipt to a private, untraceable address. I could then forward it to the client and be done with it. Would I even be back there on Monday? I guessed not.
With that in mind, I looked around, trying to take it all in. It was my last job, for sure. I would never do this kind of work again. Not ever.
Time was wasting. I was stalling, unwilling to slide the folder into the drawer of the large, mahogany desk sitting against one wall of windows. There was no sense in putting it off any longer, so I walked over, using the key Dani had given me to unlock the drawer.
Footsteps, out in the hall. I froze, wondering who it could be. That quick stride. Confident. Assured. It could only be one person. Damn it!
I slammed the drawer shut, locking it just in time to stand up straight before Lucas flipped the lights on.
“Oh!” He stopped short, eyes widening at the sight of me. “I didn’t expect you to be here, Selena—especially not in here. Is everything all right?”
“Oh, sure.” I laughed shakily, putting a hand to my chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack, is all!”
“Same here!”
We stood there, a little awkward. I prayed he was only acting that way at the memory of what we’d done together.
“So…what are you doing in here?” he prompted.
I motioned to the surface of his desk, where I’d laid out a series of schedules for him earlier in the day. “I just wanted to be sure I hadn’t forgotten anything here. I wanted to make sure you’re all set for next week before I leave for the weekend.”
He grinned, all signs of worry disappearing. I could have wept with relief. “That’s really great. Thank you. You know, you’re doing a great job here.”
I let out a self-deprecating snort. “I’ve only been here for three days,” I reminded him.
“I know, but I’ve never had an assistant who stayed late on Friday night just to be sure I was set for the coming week. You’re conscientious, and that goes a long way. I feel confident leaving myself in your hands.”
Oh, I felt like the world’s biggest snake in the grass. I could have melted into the floor then and there and never come back. I couldn’t stand hearing him praise me when I knew the opposite was true. He had no reason to trust me. He had no reason to believe I was anything other than a liar and a thief. I was there to hurt him, and there he stood, looking trusting and kind and warm as always.
“Thank you,” I managed to murmur. I hoped he took my blush as one of pleasure, instead of the agony I was going through.
“So, since we’re both here,” Lucas said, coming closer, “what do you think we should do about it?”
“What?” The file folder burned hot in my hands, and I fought the urge to step away from him. I couldn’t arouse suspicion.
“Should we make the most of being alone together like this?”
I clutched the folder close to me as he drew near, praying he wouldn’t ask what I was holding. I didn’t know quite what I’d say. It would be easier if he didn’t ask at all.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I giggled, trying to act coquettish. “What do you think we should do? I mean, you’re the boss.”
A light seemed to appear in his eyes when I said that. So he liked hearing he was in charge. A good move on my part.
“I think we should go back to my place for a celebratory nightcap. I mean, it’s the end of your third day with the company. That deserves a celebration.” His smirk just about undid me on the spot. He was truly the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. If he’d asked me to do it right there on his desk, I wouldn’t have said no—except for the folder in my arms.
“I don’t see why not.”
I had no choice. I couldn’t turn him down; it would look too obvious. At the same time, I couldn’t deny the little thrill that raced through me at the thought of him wanting me. What woman wouldn’t have felt flattered that a man like him wanted them? I was only human.
“Great.” Lucas smiled, his eyes full of promise. If he had a night like the one we’d already spent in mind, I was in for a lot of fun.
“Let me get my things together,” I murmured, hurrying from the office. Damn it, he would have to come in just in time to stop me. I could try again on Monday, of course, but what would I tell my client if they called over the weekend?
I slid the file into my shoulder bag, bending to keep myself between the bag and a patiently waiting Lucas. I didn’t think he saw me take it—if he did, his expression didn’t give him away. “I just need to shut my computer down,” I said, sitting in front of the monitor.
“Take your time.”
But he didn’t leave me alone. I’d half-hoped he would wait for me in the lobby or go to the men’s room, but no such luck. I had no choice but to close down the computer just as I’d said, then straighten out my desk. I would probably never see it again. That was why I never brought any personal items with me to a job, not even a plant.
As if he’d read my mind, Lucas commented, “You don’t have any personal things on your desk, I notice.”
My heart clenched. Did he know something? Was he only playing games with me? “I don’t feel comfortable bringing things in right after starting a job. I know some places would rather their employees not ruin the—what do they call it—company aesthetic.”
He chuckled. “Good point. Well, for future reference, you can bring in a few things if it would make you feel more at home. I mean, we already spend more time at work than we do at home, right?”
“Some more than others,” I winked.
“Fair enough. I don’t see you out and about, hitting the town on a Friday night.”
I shrugged. “Maybe I was waiting to see if you would come in.”
He raised one eyebrow. “It was worth the gamble. I’m glad you took it.”
As we left, walking side by side, I told Lucas about a man I used to work with. “Oh, this was years ago. I worked in an office not unlike this one. This man was an assistant to one of the top-level executives—he even had his own office beside his boss’. When I first started, I went in there to ask him a question and was stunned. His office was totally empty. I mean, desk, chair, laptop, phone. That was it. The rest of his desk was bare except for a few papers. No pictures, no radio—almost everybody had a radio, or something similar so they could listen to music. Nothing. At the end of the day he’d clean off the desk and take his laptop home, so if you passed by when he wasn’t there, you wouldn’t know anybody worked in there at all. I assumed he had just started, you know?” I shook my head. “Nope. He’d been there ten years.”
“Wow. I’ve heard of keeping things simple, but that seems a little extreme,” Lucas said, as we stood in front of the bank of elevators, waiting.
“Your office is pretty bare,” I pointed out.
“An executive’s office shouldn’t be full of tchotchkes,” he said. “I have to give off a certain image.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” I countered. “One of my old bosses was highly respected in the company and all over town, but his office felt like his home. Awards on the walls, pictures of his grandkids, books he loved. The works.”
“How many places have you worked in?” he asked, grinning. “You have all these experiences.”
I looked at the floor. “Oh, you know. Typical girl in her twenties. Bouncing from place to place, trying to find somewhere permanent. A place to settle down.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I hope you’ve found that place here. You should settle down and become part of the family.”
I wished my heart didn’t hurt so much when I nodded.
The Brazilian Billionaire’s Blackmail Bargain can be found on Amazon by clicking here.
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