by Cora Reilly
She smiled as she walked out, then he closed the door in her face and turned to me with a shake of his head, looking like this morning had been a terrible inconvenience for him. I could hardly look at his shoulders without disturbing images popping up in my head, and he had the expression of a martyr!
“You can delete her number.”
I raised my eyebrows. I had a feeling they would make a permanent home high on my forehead if I kept working for Xavier. “Why did you let me write it down if you don’t want to meet her again?”
“I don’t fuck a girl twice. Well, I do fuck them more than once, but I don’t meet them twice.” He flashed that infuriating grin as he sauntered closer, every muscle flexing, every inch of him painfully perfect. It was a good thing I liked his character a little less with every infuriating word out of his mouth.
My lip curled. “Why don’t you tell them? Why the show of letting me write down her number, Xavier?”
“Because it gets them to leave. They always think they could be the one to make me want to stay.” He chuckled. “Idiots.”
He leaned against the counter again. “So what about my cappuccino?”
I really wished he would put clothes on. The briefs were awfully distracting. I supposed I should have expected that with Xavier’s ginormous frame, the rest of him would be sized to proportion, but good Lord. I turned toward the espresso unit and put a mug under the nozzles. Xavier was watching me with obvious amusement. “I can’t remember the last time I have seen such a ferocious blush. Your face is the color of the lobster in my favorite seafood restaurant. I doubt it can get any redder.”
I was going to throw the mug right at his head. Of course, he ate lobster. Rolex, Maserati, lobster, penthouse with a view of the harbor bridge. Xavier not only flouted his conquests for the public, he also flouted his wealth.
“And I have never seen such a shameless act of exhibitionism in all my life. You knew I would come over to wake you, and still you did this.”
“Then you haven’t seen much yet,” he said dryly, followed by the lip twitch. I blinked at him, reminding myself of the current state of my bank account and the wondrous number I’d seen in my contract.
“You haven’t ground the espresso beans yet.”
I shot him a glare as I opened the container beside the espresso unit, which held the beans. Problem was I wasn’t sure how to operate the grinder. Xavier startled me when he stepped up beside me, towering over me, and took the container from me. “Pay close attention.”
Stifling a remark, I forced my attention toward Xavier’s hand, which worked the espresso unit easily. His woodsy manly scent wafted into my nose and occasionally his arm brushed mine. I couldn’t bring myself to step away though, even when my eyes kept straying toward the display of muscles right at eye level.
A few minutes later, Xavier presented two perfectly brewed cappuccinos with a beautiful milk foam crown to me. Of course I hadn’t paid the slightest bit of attention to the creation of the coffee specialty. “Enjoy,” he said. “I hope you remember everything.”
“Thanks.” I took it, surprised at how flawless the milk foam looked, and took a sip from the hot beverage. It tasted perfect, like a concoction straight from a barista. I had no hope that I would create something that tasty soon. “Perhaps you should make us both cappuccinos every morning,” I suggested with a grin over my mug.
Xavier’s mouth twitched. “If you pay me as well for it as I pay you.”
“Touché.” I took another sip, suddenly caught by the surrealism of the situation. I was standing in the kitchen with a half-naked Xavier—The Beast—Stevens, having cappuccino. I drew my eyes to my watch. “You should get dressed. We need to head out for your training in about fifteen minutes.”
Xavier set down his mug and raised his arms over his head for a stretch, which made my heart skip a beat. He smiled lazily when he lowered them back to his sides, then shoved away from the counter. “I was wrong, by the way,” he threw over his shoulder at me. “Your face could get redder.”
If I thought having Xavier walk around me in nothing but briefs was distracting, watching him do a beach workout was a new level of insanity. Xavier and I chose a less crowded part of Manly Beach for the recording. I found the name oddly appropriate and wondered if Xavier had chosen it on purpose to shake me up further. It seemed to amuse him greatly to make me blush, which happened a lot. My fair complexion was as much at fault as my lack of experience being around half-naked men.
I had chosen comfy shorts and a tank top for the occasion. The moment my toes dipped into the warm sand, I was in paradise, and forgot that this was actually work. The ocean rolled lazily toward the beach, white and frothy, begging for a swim. But I didn’t have a bathing suit with me, and even if I did, there was no way I was going to parade my less-than-perfect body around someone like Xavier.
“Make sure you get me from every angle and don’t let the sun blind you,” Xavier said as he positioned himself in front of me. His gym shorts hugged the narrow V of his hips and accentuated his strong thighs and shapely butt. Soon Xavier was doing sprints and sit-ups and push-ups, which made his skin glisten with a fine sheen of sweat that accentuated every ripped inch of his body. It was madness, complete and utter madness, and I enjoyed every maddening second of it.
Even though I wasn’t moving all that much, I quickly felt hot and sweaty, hoping it was because of the blistering afternoon sun and knowing full well it wasn’t. The ocean looked more and more enticing by the second. Perhaps I could go for a quick dip once we were done filming.
“You look flustered,” Xavier commented after another round of sprints and sit-ups.
“I need an ice cream. Should I bring one for you?” I nodded toward an ice truck near the promenade.
Xavier shook his head, brushing sand off his glistening chest.
I turned and quickly got myself a cherry popsicle before I strolled back to Xavier. He had sat down on a towel and looked out toward the ocean. I stopped beside him. He shifted to the side, making room for me. Surprised, I sank down beside him. “Thanks,” I said then slipped the popsicle into my mouth, and decided this came close to perfection. Sunshine, beach and cherry ice.
Gradually I became aware of Xavier’s staring. I turned to him, my cheeks growing hot again. I would have given anything for slow blood circulation at this point. I showed him my popsicle. “You sure you don’t want a taste?”
Xavier narrowed his eyes the slightest bit as if he was searching for something. I met his gaze and slowly pulled the popsicle back out of my mouth, wondering what the hell his problem was. “I don’t have a sweet tooth,” he said eventually, and the late reply threw me off for a moment. His gray eyes flickered over my cheeks and lips.
“How can anyone not have a sweet tooth?” I mused, taking another taste of my icy treat
“Why do you blush so much?” Xavier asked curiously.
Of course, that made me blush more. Sighing, I slid my popsicle back out of my mouth, opting for the truth. I didn’t like beating around the bush. It seldom made things easier. “Because you run around half naked a lot and it’s making me nervous. But don’t worry, I’m sure in a few days I won’t even notice it anymore. You’ll just blend in with your surroundings.”
Xavier tossed me a look, then the lip twitch. He straightened and from my viewpoint down on the towel, he looked even taller. My eyes did the usual head-to toe-dip, and when I finally looked back at Xavier’s face and saw his arrogant smile, I knew that man would never blend into the background.
“We need to film the last sequence,” Xavier said.
I prepared for a very undignified scramble to my feet when he held out his hand to me. I took it, surprised, and he pulled me to my feet as if I weighed nothing. My stomach did a little flip it definitely wasn’t supposed to be doing around my boss.
I dropped Evie off at Connor’s house before heading to my penthouse. I didn’t have much time to get ready anymore.
The filming took l
onger than expected, mostly because I enjoyed how flustered Evie got. I had never seen someone blush as much or ferociously as she did.
When she’d started licking that popsicle, I’d thought she’d try to come on to me, but she had been completely oblivious to the effect her sneaky tongue had on me. She was surprisingly pleasant to be around despite being Fiona’s twin, and her brand of humor, from what I’d seen so far, would undoubtedly prove entertaining in the future.
When it was almost time to leave for Network Ten’s party, I chanced a look down at my Rolex. If we left now, we’d be on time, but Evie wasn’t here yet. As if on cue, the keys turned in the lock and the door pushed open. “I’m here!” she called out a warning, and I stifled a grin. The sight of her shocked face this morning had been entertaining, more entertaining than fucking Shannon if I was being honest.
She stepped inside then clapped her hand over her heart as she spotted me close by. She was out of breath and obviously flustered. “Good god, don’t scare me like that.”
“You’re late,” I drawled, my eyes drawn to her hand, which was still resting on her impressive breasts.
Guilt flashed across her face. “I’m sorry. It took longer than I expected to find something suitable to wear, get ready and return here. I don’t have a car so I have to rely on public transport. It won’t happen again.”
I didn’t really care. I’d hired her solely because Connor had asked me, and had expected the worst knowing she was Fiona’s twin. My eyes scanned the rest of her.
She had opted for a classic pant suit in dark blue with a blazer that reached her upper thighs, loose dress pants and moderate heels.
“Pants? Is that what you bought for the party?”
She frowned. “No. I didn’t have time to go shopping because of the beach shooting. Why? This is normal business attire. I’m supposed to stay in the background after all.”
Why would she hide her curves like that? It made no sense. I held up my tie. “Can you tie this for me?”
She put down her purse on the counter, nodding before she stepped up to me. She took the tie from me and stood on her tiptoes to sling it around my neck, her fingers quick and nimble as she bound the tie, her green eyes trained on the work at hand. My gaze kept wandering, however, over the dusting of freckles all over her nose and cheekbones, over her curved mouth, and her flawless skin despite the minimum of makeup she was wearing. I’d been with enough women who wore makeup like a second skin.
She patted the tie, and my chest once, looking up. “There you go.” We were quite close, so her sweet scent wafted into my nose.
She took a step back. “We should really hurry or we’ll be late.”
“Fashionably late,” I corrected.
“Late is late, there’s nothing fashionable about it,” she said with pursed lips. Was there anything she agreed with me about?
“How do I look?” I asked, more to annoy her than anything else. I knew I was a hot piece of man-candy in the form-fitting dark blue Ermenegildo Zegna suit, and I’d have my fair share of willing women to choose from.
Her eyes trailed over me slowly, taking their time as if she, too, was trying to make a point. “Well,” she said neutrally. “For a man your size you make the suit work quite well.”
I had to stifle laughter. “I’ve never had an assistant who chose to wear pants to a party like this,” I countered, nodding toward the atrociously loose-fitting fabric over her curvy butt.
She blushed. “It’s not my party. Like I said, I don’t want to draw attention to myself.”
I gave her a doubtful look. “You’re the complete opposite from my previous assistants, that alone will make you the center of attention, and these clothes probably won’t do you any favors, knowing the furies that parade around as journalists nowadays.”
She tugged a strand of hair behind her ear, with a look that suggested she was considering to hide behind me all night.
“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to be extra scandalous to keep all the attention on me.”
Her mouth quirked. “I don’t think you need any prompting to be scandalous.”
“True,” I admitted, suddenly not in the mood for the party and all the attention-whores waiting to be my next conquest.
She peered down at her slender silver watch. “We should really go now.”
I decided to humor her and arrive at a party less than two hours late for once.
The second we arrived at the party I could already feel my patience slipping. Photographers began circling me like vultures, and the women were only marginally better. Evie tried her best to stay several steps behind me and let me be in the spotlight, but I caught a few photographers taking photos of her.
For some reason it annoyed me even more because I knew she hated the attention. I spotted Connor and Fiona at the other end of the party, chatting up one of Network Ten’s hosts whose name I couldn’t remember.
As I made my way through the crowd, shaking hands and exchanging necessary pleasantries, Evie stayed close by and whispered the names of the people heading my way, so I’d know who they were. She did so without prompting as she knew I didn’t know a single name. I couldn’t care less about most of these people. They took what they wanted and needed, and I took what I wanted in turn.
After an excruciatingly long chat with a group of middle-aged women who flirted unabashedly with me, we finally arrived at the bar. I leaned over to the bartender waiting for my order. “One sparkling water with a slice of lemon, a slice of cucumber and ice.” Then I turned to Evie who hovered beside me, glancing around herself self-consciously. She needed to drop the deer-in-the-headlights look in public. I wasn’t sure why she had trouble showing her feisty self in a situation like this, when she was already giving me fire even though I was her boss—not that I minded. “What do you want?”
“A beer,” she said without hesitation.
Surprise washed over me, and it must have shown because she frowned. “Or does that convey the wrong image? I can take a glass of white wine or a water if that’s what you prefer.”
“Drink whatever you want as long as I don’t have to haul your drunken ass home later.”
She narrowed her eyes, nodding toward my glass of water. “I’m not the one with the gin and tonic.”
I grinned. That was exactly what everyone was thinking. I held the glass out to her, challenge in my eyes, and she took a hesitant sip.
“Water,” she said incredulously.
“I don’t get drunk in public, or at all. I’m an athlete.”
She blinked but I turned to the bartender and ordered a beer, then handed it to Evie. “Thanks,” she said, watching me closely. “Do all women fawn over you as if you’re the second coming of Jesus Christ?”
I leaned back against the bar. “Not all, but many.”
She rolled her eyes and took another sip. Another flash blinded us, and Evie stiffened beside me. “I hope I’m not in any of these photos.”
She would be in all of them.
I made small talk with a few more Network Ten personnel when Evie excused herself to go to the restroom. Connor joined me at the bar a moment later. “So mate, how’s your new assistant fairing so far?”
“I have no complaints except for her choice in clothing,” I drawled.
“She’s a bit self-conscious about her figure.” He grimaced. “I shouldn’t have said that. Fiona will kick my ass.”
I could see how Evie was self-conscious about her body in an environment like this. The women surrounding me had turned starving into a competitive sport. I twisted my glass around in my hand as I searched the crowd for my fling of the night. I was in the mood for something spicier than the bore from last night. “Why does she blush so much? It’s like she’s from some hicktown behind the woods and has never been around a naked guy.”
“You were naked in front of Evie?”
“Not really. She caught me in bed with my last fuck. Got a good look at my backside, maybe more.”
Conn
or shook his head. “This will cost me my balls, I can see it coming.” He emptied his glass. “Seeing you banging someone would have disturbed anyone.”
“She’s kind of adorable,” I said to get a rise out of my best friend.
“Evie is a good girl, Xavier,” Connor muttered, narrowing his eyes.
I turned my attention to him. “How good?”
“Too good for you,” Fiona said in warning as she came up behind us. Her sneaky tendencies grated on my nerves. “Don’t even think about making a move on her, you hear me? Evie spent the last few years taking care of our dad after our mom died. She doesn’t need additional crap from you.”
“And where were you?” I shot back because I didn’t like her tone.
She blanched, turned on her heel and disappeared in the direction of the ladies’ room as well.
“Great,” Connor snarled. “Was that really necessary?” He left me standing there as he stormed off after his girlfriend. I smirked into the camera lens pointed at me from across the room. Soon a woman with chin-length black hair in a tight black jumpsuit sauntered over to me, introducing herself as Maya Nowak, as if her name should ring a bell with me. I assumed she was a journalist from one of the sketchy tabloids that made millions with my scandals. I supposed it was only fair that I got something in return, so after an hour of shameless flirting and the second time her knee accidentally rubbed my cock through my pants, we made our way to an empty meeting room where she sucked my cock with so much eagerness you’d think she was a starving dog gifted a bone. After I’d banged her on the meeting table, I zipped up my pants, threw the condom in the bin and turned to leave.
“Hey!” she called. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving just like that?”
I didn’t look at her. “What else am I supposed to do? I don’t do a pussy twice. Bye, Marie.” I knew that wasn’t her name, but for some reason I wanted to piss her off. She’d probably let me fuck her for the very reason to write an article about me—might as well give her the necessary fodder.
