Beyond Bliss (9 page)

She stared at him with surprise on her face. “You’re not even going to give me a hard time or make me fight for it?”

He shook his head wearily.

“Wow, she really has got you wound up tight, huh?”

She had no idea.

When he’d found her, he’d been elated. It hadn’t taken much, just a few well-placed phone calls to some of the more discreet individuals in his circle. Within twenty-four hours of locating her, he had all the information he needed to bring her back into his life. It had been easy, almost ridiculously so.

But this was what he did. He thrived off the chase.

Off the chase of obtaining the impossible.

But now sweet Sophie Harlow was trying to kill him.

He was a man who believed in taking care of his health. He worked out regularly, and had even installed a gym in a small room off of his office so he could stay in shape and work off stress when it hit. It was a good thing he didn’t suffer from high blood pressure or poor health, because he’d nearly been knocked off his ass when he’d seen her this morning.

Her small, curvy figure had been poured into an excuse for a suit. She’d been wearing fuck-me heels, and she’d had on her pearl necklace … and then, she’d just stood there, staring at him with those incredibly warm, dark brown doe eyes and an innocent expression on her face.

He’d wanted to throw her on Rosie’s desk and fuck the daylights out of her, security cameras and public space be damned.

“She’s hot,” Rosie offered unhelpfully.

He growled in frustration.

“Nice, too. Not like your usual.”

No, Sophie was nothing like his usual. She was perfect. Sweet, and sexy, and completely unable to keep emotion off of her expressive face. He wasn’t exactly sure how or why she was a lawyer, and there was the distinct possibility that she wasn’t even good. When he’d met with Carson McPherson, the man had tried to dissuade him from retaining Sophie, offering him a choice of one or several of his best attorneys for the same amount of money he’d offered.

But he’d resisted. It had to be her, or he’d take his business elsewhere.

And now he’d gotten what he’d wanted, but he’d also possibly compromised his company and the livelihoods of hundreds of his employees because he was thinking with his dick.

Chapter Nine

It was the longest month of her life.

She'd been following Liz's plan to a T, but he didn't so much as blink at her. If they passed each other in the hallway, he would nod cordially and keep moving.

The asshole couldn't even deign to speak to her.

Several times she'd been tempted to stomp into his office, which just so happened to be conveniently right next to hers, and demand that he explain exactly what she was supposed to do and why her presence was required in his offices. There had been no mention of the "big deal" he'd spoken of earlier.

Her first assignment had been to review the company's standard offer letter and finalize it with Sally, the HR director. There had been enough legalese in the letter for her to suspect that a lawyer had drafted the original document. She'd been confused, but she made a few edits before handing it back over to Sally. The other woman had wordlessly nodded her agreement to everything she’d suggested without any objections or meaningful feedback and promptly escaped her office.

Now, she was collating various policies and procedures into an employee handbook, inserting various legal terms and clauses where she thought it was appropriate.

She was bored out of her mind.

She’d done more challenging work as an intern. If she’d been allowed to keep her caseload, it wouldn’t have been so bad, but because she was exclusively retained, she couldn’t work on anything else.

Asshole.

What made everything worse, was that she was under a microscope. His employees gave her a wide berth, but she caught the curious glances they shot her when no one thought she was looking. There were only three people in the office she could talk to, and two of them were usually too busy.

Rosie, who served as receptionist and assistant to Lucas, was a hoot. She was hugely pregnant and possessed a rapier sharp wit. Even though she gave her boss a hard time, she was intensely loyal to him. The few times Sophie had tried to bring him up to see if she could get more information, the other woman had shut her down within seconds.

Sean, his best friend and partner, was a shameless flirt. Harmless enough, although he seemed to only bother her when Lucas was in the vicinity—which never happened for very long.

And then there was Tyrone, her new assistant.

She’d never had an assistant before, and so she really didn’t know what to use him for. There had been associates, lawyers more junior than her, at the firm, and she’d been able to delegate work to them.

But Tyrone had majored in fashion design at Parsons, and he had no legal background to speak of. He dramatically claimed to any and all who would listen, that he’d worked as a slave for several design houses, before he got hip to the scene and bounced. Now, he made twice as much money in a forty-hour workweek than he had in during an eighty hour one.

Although she really had no idea what he filled his forty hours with. He answered her phone, for which she was immensely grateful—especially when her mother called. He went on coffee runs, but she usually accompanied him because she was bored out of her mind with so little to do. A week ago, he'd invited himself over to her apartment to "help." He'd snapped pictures of every piece of clothing and all of the accessories she owned, including bags and shoes. Since then, he'd been putting together "look books" for her, mixing and matching different images into perfectly coordinated outfits.

She now had an album on her smartphone cataloguing fashionable, sexy-but-still-appropriate work outfits.

Outfits that were clearly not serving their purpose since Lucas hadn’t glanced at her more than once since her first day in his offices.

And the disappointment she felt was because her plan wasn’t working. It’s not like she cared if he really wanted her or anything.

She sighed deeply. He’d caged her up, just like a helpless canary. Now, all she did was sit there and try to look pretty while he killed her with boredom and ignored her. Even Liz had been puzzled by his behavior.

Just then, Tyrone stepped into her office. His huge chocolate brown eyes were wider than normal, sparkling with excitement. She kept making notes to ask him which mascara he used and then promptly forgot each time.

She opened her mouth to pose her question, but he dramatically held his hand up. “Me first,” he demanded.

This should be good. His long, reed-thin legs were trembling so much so that she feared he might have an accident in his tight, black and white hounds-tooth pants. He wore a bright pink, tailored oxford, and he’d cleverly knotted a bright orange scarf around the collar at his neck.

She squinted.

Looks like Hermes.

She waited to hear his news, all the while wondering how it was that her assistant could sport an Hermes scarf and carry a Birkin, while Kate Spade was still a splurge for her.

“Guess who’s going to Hawaii?”

The imaginary buzzer in her head made a
ding ding ding.
Question answered.

Tyrone had several older, wealthier boyfriends who liked to take care of him. Or so he claimed. He was fairly open about sharing the details of his private life. Truth be told, he was almost as bad as Liz.

Distractedly, she made another mental note to introduce them.

1. Ask Tyrone about his mascara.
   
2. Make sure I save tracked changes to this godforsaken, stupid employee handbook.
   
3. Introduce Liz and Tyrone, preferably while I can consume copious amounts of hard liquor
   
4. Ask Tyrone to show me how to tie a scarf
   
5. Research second hand Birk—
   

“Sophie, are you even listening to me!” Tyrone exclaimed. It was a question, but Tyrone never asked questions. He just made exclamations.

Sheepishly, she smiled. “I’m sorry, T. What wonderful boy toy are you going to Hawaii with?”

White, even teeth gleamed against his dark skin. “Girlfriend, I ain’t going to Hawaii. Although, I’m sure if you ask, you can take me with you,” he said with a hopeful look on his face.

A knot started to form in the pit of her stomach. The pit of her stomach that currently felt like the fiery pit of hell.

Tyrone frowned at her. “I don’t remember seeing any tropical resort wear in your wardrobe.”

She looked at him dumbly, but then his face brightened considerably.

“It’s okay … that means
shopping
!”

She blinked a few times. “What gives you the impression that I am going to Hawaii?” she asked slowly.

He blinked back at her as if she was a kindergartener, slow on the uptake. “Rosie said Mr. Sinclair has more details, but it’s an offsite meeting, and he needs
you
to go with him. It’s not for four more weeks, but I’m supposed to take care of booking your travel and making sure you’re prepared.”

What a crock!

“So his majesty couldn’t be bothered to check with me first? What if I had plans? And who goes to Hawaii on
business
?” She couldn’t help herself from sneering the last word. It probably wasn’t appropriate, especially given that Tyrone was on
his
payroll and not hers, but he’d pushed her irritation to new heights.

“Honey, that man can play lord and master over me all he wants,” Tyrone said with a serious expression on his face. “And who cares? You’re going to Hawaii! The beach, the sand, water, and a hot guy.”

“None of that matters,” she snapped in annoyance. She glared and pointed to her computer screen. “Employees are prohibited from engaging in relationships or any other behaviors from which a perceived conflict of interest may arise,” she quoted from the handbook.

Tyrone smiled mischievously. “But you’re not an employee, are you?”

She ignored him and kept reading aloud. “This policy extends to temporary employees, contractors, vendors, and other third parties engaged in a business relationship.”

She felt guilty when his face fell. 

And then she realized what they were talking about. 

“Tyrone, this is completely inappropriate. Even if I accompany 
Mr. Sinclair
 to Hawaii, it’s strictly in a professional capacity.”

He looked at her dubiously, but she paid no attention. “Please set up a meeting between me and Mr. Sinclair for this afternoon, and do 
not
 book my travel,” she said firmly.

He raised his brow at her as if he knew she was postponing the inevitable, and he would be making arrangements later this afternoon. She stared at him challengingly, but thankfully for once, he just nodded and left the room without saying anything.

*****

She was definitely to kill him. 

High blood pressure, sudden cardiac arrest, or maybe a brain aneurysm. He contemplated them all as he watched her determinedly stalk over to Rosie’s desk, Tyrone wringing his hands, trailing after her. Her mouth moved, and he could see the gloss on her lips even through the fine grain of the streaming video. Rosie said something back to her, something she clearly didn’t like because she crossed her arms tightly in front of her chest, the motion inadvertently plumping up her soft, pretty breasts, which were already straining against her camisole. She had on yet another one of her tight-fitted suit jackets.

She had to own a million of those fucking tight jackets.

“Always knew you had voyeuristic tendencies.” 

He didn’t bother to swivel in his chair. Sean was a stealthy bastard, and always moved quietly, despite his large frame. 

“What do you want?” he muttered.

“Just enjoying seeing you squirm,” his friend said mildly. “You’ve never had to go to such drastic lengths to get a woman’s interest before.”

He ignored his friend and continued to stare at the screen. Sophie now had one of her perfectly manicured hands propped against the curve of her hip. A hip that was enticingly encased in a snug pencil skirt that hugged her delightful bottom. At least this one ended at her knees, although he didn’t know which was worse – the tight skirts barely half a size above her birthday suit or the tiny, microscopic ones that showed off her firm thighs and beautifully shaped calves. 

He was only slightly aware that Sean had started to count softly, he was that focused on her image.

Suddenly, she whirled around, determination set on her beautiful face. 

“Three,” Sean murmured behind him. They both watched the footage continue as Rosie scrambled up from her seat and ambled after Sophie as quickly as she could.

His pulse picked up. 

“Two.”

Another second ticked by before his door flew open.

“And one,” his friend finished with satisfaction.

He took a moment to compose himself. The security feed streamed discreetly onto one of the several computer monitors on his desk.