Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) (105 page)

I startled and went straight to apologizing.

“Oh,” I said. “I’m so
sorry. Um. It was cold last night and I was tired and a little out
of it, so…”

He gave me a lazy smile, scrunching his eyes, scrutinizing
me. I don’t think he believed a word I said. “It’s
alright. Did you get up to get a snack?” he asked.

“Huh? No. Why?”

“You’ve got something… right…
there.” He tapped his finger just below my lower lip and wiped it to
the side.

I blushed, in a panic. My God! Really
now? Not only was this embarrassing, but it was… it was…

“If you were hungry, it’s fine,” he
said. “I don’t mind. Maybe it was sleep eating? I’ve
heard of that before.” His tone of voice was completely unconvinced
that this was a real thing, but I appreciated him favoring me.

“Yes, that’s it.” I scrambled away
from him. Falling off the couch, catching myself on the floor and getting
to my knees, I crawled away from him and to somewhere relatively more
safe. Relative safety being anywhere that I could calm down and pretend
he hadn’t spotted some remnants of my illicit midnight escapades.

Would he notice? Had I left any other signs of
what I’d done? When I thought I had my blush under control, I turned to
look at him. He stretched on the couch, then lowered his legs to the
floor and rose to his feet. I surreptitiously glanced at his crotch,
hoping to see(or preferably not see) anything amiss. Nothing from what I
could tell, except my glance was perhaps a bit less covert than I’d intended.

He lifted one brow, looking at me funny.
“Jessika, are you alright? Is something wrong? You’re acting
odd.”

“No!” I squeaked. “Nothing!
I have to use the bathroom. My hairs a mess. I’m sure I look
terrible.”

An excuse? Yes. I didn’t know if I looked
terrible, nor did I care too much, but I figured if I could use the age old
excuse to my advantage, one used by many women before me, then I should pull
out all the stops and do it.

“You look fine,” he said. “Nice,
actually. Somewhat glowing. Very refreshed, and…”

I nodded, thanked him, and ran to the bathroom.
The upstairs one, far away from anywhere Asher would be. He probably
looked at me quizzically and laughed to himself, but I scurried up the stairs
as quick as I could so I never saw any of that. The image in my head, the
thought of it, that was more than enough to make me feel embarrassed all over
again.

I didn’t actually need to use the bathroom, not quite,
but I freshened up anyways. When I looked in the mirror, I looked fine,
mostly. Some quick touch-ups would fix any obvious hair issues, and I
wasn’t so vain that I needed to always wear makeup no matter what. I did
look somewhat glowing, though. Probably, I assumed, because of the
blushing, but Asher didn’t need to know that, nor the reason behind it.

Relax, Jessika, I told myself. Breathing in and
out, some makeshift Zen meditation, I released my pent up worries and took in
good energy. That was the idea, at least, though who could say if I did
it right. Maybe I should look into that? It seemed useful and
thinking about it served as a good distraction while I relaxed into normalness.

When I rejoined Asher downstairs, he was talking on
his cell phone.

“Alright,” he said. “Yes, of
course. No, it won’t be a problem. Why would it? I’m
interested to read the reports. I’ll have someone there to take care of
things, too. Yes. Yes. Nice talking with you. Have a
good day.”

He hung up the phone and put it on the kitchen
countertop.

“Is everything alright?” I asked.

“Everything,” he said, “is great.
I’ve just learned that my director of public relations is returning to Landseer
Tower today with news and a report. I can only hope its good, but I’m
sure he has everything under control.”

“He?”

“Solomon,” Asher said. “Solomon
Royce. He’s done good work for me, though I don’t understand his methods
exactly. Always away doing this or that, sparking interest in company
holdings, doing press releases, that kind of thing. I couldn’t manage any
of it for the life of me, so I’m glad to have him, but sometimes it’s confusing
since I don’t understand most of what his reports are about.”

“Can’t you ask him?” I’d thought of
Asher as something of a genius in the business world and finding out that there
were things he didn’t understand was somewhat jarring.

“Oh, I do. It doesn’t help. He gives
me explanations and books to read and I’ve read them, but the way he puts so
much information in reports and discusses everything in such detail, it’s like
I need a translator to understand it. I’d love to be more active in
public relations, at least behind the scenes, but Solomon has a hold on it so
it doesn’t matter too much.”

“Is that a good idea?” I said. “I
don’t mean to pry, but…”

He shrugged. “No, I know what you’re getting
it. It’s really not a good idea, generally speaking. I should at
least have some understanding of that side of my business, but I trust
him. I pay him enough, so I shouldn’t have to worry about him leaving the
company any time soon, anyways.” The last part was apparently a
joke. Asher chuckled.

“Alright,” I said. I wasn’t a
businessperson. I wasn’t even involved in any real business, public
relations or not, so I doubted I could judge anything Asher did. But,
still, it seemed off to me. Odd.

“Speaking of Solomon,” Asher said.
“He’s actually returning at a bad time. I always have someone to
take care of his needs in his office, but the woman who usually does it is on
vacation. I didn’t expect him back so soon. I was wondering if
maybe…”

“Are you asking me to do it?”

He smiled, sheepish. Not really an Asher
Landseer look. More relaxed and comfortable and endearing. I smiled
back, caught off guard.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” he said.
“I’ll pay you, of course. You can come in with me and Jeremy.
I’ll find suitable business attire. It shouldn’t be anything
difficult. Sit in his office and wait for him, go deliver papers or pick
something up. Like a secretary, except not exactly.”

I nodded. “I can do it. I don’t think
there will be any problems.”

These were, one might say, famous last words.

“Thanks,” Asher said, sounding
genuine. “What do you want for breakfast? I’ll make it.
You can sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.”

“The breakfast show?” I asked,
tittering. My God, was I some crazed school girl? Giggling in front
of a grown man? I lowered my eyes, self-conscious.

He strode towards me and put his hand under my
chin. Gentle, yet firm, he lifted my face so that I had to look at
him. My eyes moved to the side, denying him, but I could only do it for
so long. He met my gaze.

“Yes,” he said, sounding completely
serious. “I shall fry the pans and toast the eggs like you’ve never
seen before. In your name, Jessika, for the greater good.”

“Stop it!” I said, laughing. I slapped
his cheek, playful and light, then turned my eyes down again. “I do
like pan fries,” I added.

“You have a beautiful smile,” he said, but
that was it. Before I could blush or accept the compliment or say
anything at all in return, he squeezed my chin gently between his fingers, let
me go, and walked away.

…

We finished breakfast and Jeremy drove us to Landseer
Tower. Asher spent most of the ride on his phone, talking, asking about
this or that, requesting someone find figures on something and have them brought
to him or someone else, or whatever. I sat there quietly, trying to get
into the right mood for this kind of thing.

Today, I was a businesswoman. Not exactly, and
even if I was one I was quite a bit lower in importance than anyone else.
A temporary position, again, except this time I had the full backing of the CEO
of the company. For some reason, that made me feel better. In
actuality it wasn’t too much different from when I’d gone to clean Asher’s
office, but the fact that before was on initiative from the temp agency, and
now was because of Asher himself, it just felt different to me.

I folded my hands on my lap, sat perfectly still, and
thought about what I would do. Should I call him Solomon, or Mr.
Royce? I should ask about that. Maybe Mr. Solomon Royce? Did
he want me to get him coffee? Snacks? That seemed kind of lowly,
but who knew what his usual assistant did. I needed to run errands, fetch
papers, and help him out in whatever way necessary, so I should prepare for the
worst. And, really, there were worse things in life than someone telling
you to get them coffee. I could handle it.

We arrived, Asher left. He told someone about
what I would be doing and they showed me to Solomon’s office. Solomon,
they said, was what I should call him. I thanked the woman and smiled and
then looked around Solomon’s office to figure out what I could do.

He wasn’t there yet, and would arrive when he
arrived. That’s what Asher told me. Solomon did his own thing most
of the time, but he was always prompt in doing his job. Just not always
in his office, but what did that matter? For someone like him, or Asher,
or most of the higher ups in this building, I assumed they could probably do
their work wherever they wanted and it wouldn’t make too much of a difference.

Solomon’s office was weird, though. Nothing like
Asher’s, first off. Asher’s office had a comfortable feel to it.
Maybe a little cluttered, with the reading nook and bookcases and little
oddities he had arranged around the room, but it felt cozy and nice.
Solomon’s office was mostly utilitarian.

The room had a desk with a large window behind it,
shaded. One high-back chair sat behind the desk, with a regular office
chair in front of it for visitors. A table off to the side with books on
it, sorted neatly in stacks. Then a leather couch, a mirror behind that,
and a shaded lamp in one corner.

The couch looked nice enough. I sat on it to
test it out, and it felt plush. Cold, though, like no one ever sat on it,
but then again, no one had sat there in awhile, right? Solomon had gone
on a business trip to oversee some things, and his assistant was on vacation,
so no one had any reason to use this room for at least the past couple of
weeks.

I bounced on the couch, thinking to myself. With
time to spare, I crept over to the lamp. Crawling across the couch on all
fours, reaching up to switch the lamp on, I didn’t expect what came next.

As soon as my hand grazed the lamp switch, hidden
beneath the shade, a man cleared his throat behind me. Startled, I jumped
forward and fell across the arm of the couch. My stomach landed on the
arm and my feet slipped on the smooth leather, flailing out and leaving me in a
mess.

“Excuse me,” the man said. I looked
over my shoulder at him. “You aren’t Daphne.”

He was looking at me! Not just looking at me,
but something more. I don’t know why, but I felt a cold chill creep
through my body as his eyes lingered on me. From my heels to my calves to
the skirt of the dress that Asher found for me. Not typical business
attire, but it was the best he could find on short notice and he said it would
be fine. Who was I to argue with him?

The man followed the curves of my legs up to my ass,
raising a brow at the patterned red, beige, and white stripes on my black dress.
His eyes went higher, peeking at my back and my solid black suit jacket, then
lower, to the side, staring at the curves of my breasts pressed against the arm
of the couch. And, finally, to my face, where he leered at me with the
most indecent smirk I’d ever seen.

“No,” I said, feeling anxious.
Something dropped into the pit of my stomach, a huge lump, and I couldn’t get
rid of it. “Asher asked me to help you today. Daphne’s on
vacation.”

“Asher?” he asked.

“Sorry. Mr. Landseer. You’re Solomon,
right?” As soon as I said it, I doubted the earlier woman’s
advice. “I mean, Mr. Royce? Um…”

“Solomon will be fine,” he said.

I gulped. “Yes, sir.”

He flashed me a wicked grin. “Sir is fine,
too. What’s your name?”

“Jessika,” I whispered. I felt so uncomfortable,
and belatedly realized I was still draped across his office couch like some
provocative, decorative blanket. I tried to fix myself, to at least move
into a sitting position, but my shoe’s heel was stuck. I pushed my other
foot against the couch, trying to free myself, but it didn’t help.

Solomon sauntered over to me and assessed the
situation. Without warning, he pried my foot loose and then picked me up
as if I were some object to be rearranged. Flipping me over, he dropped
me onto the couch. I landed on my back with a thud, head plopping against
the couch’s cushioned arm, feet kicking out towards the opposite couch arm.

“There,” he said.

I tried to thank him, or at least I intended on
thanking him. I did up until he placed his knee between my legs and lowered
himself on top of me. Not entirely, but he had one leg between my thighs
and a hand beside my arm, propping him up right above me. He stared at
me, lascivious, a smirk on his face.