Forbidden Prescription: A Stepbrother Romance (32 page)

* * *

W
e pulled
up to a crowd of camera crews and photographers along the shoreline. I stepped out of the limo and stared at the ocean. “Jenks, where are we?”

“We have arrived at Mavericks, Miss.”

Across the sand was a bevy of reporters, surfers, and onlookers. They were watching somebody surf on what might have been the largest waves I had ever seen. “Jenks, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

I heard somebody call out a name, as I stepped carefully across the stones in the sand after Jenks. “Miss?”

“We’re at a surfing contest?”

The chauffeur showed me to a seat, which was next to a group of announcers. Everybody was looking at the waves. “Yes, Miss. The master attends the surfing event every December to March. He appears to be doing quite well, this time around.” Jenks handed me a pair of binoculars, and said my tote would be waiting for me at Mr. Fox’s bungalow.

A bungalow. Jenks replied Driver would meet me at the announcers’ booth. “The master prefers a short scenic trip after competing. I dare say you will find him congenial company after winding down, Miss.”

I watched Jenks bow, and started after him when the onlookers cheered. I turned and saw a tall, lean figure mount a board. “Taking massive waves in the second heat is Driver Fox. This is his fifth return to Mavericks, after a nasty spill last year.”

“Right. Let’s see if the ligaments he tore yesterday are going to slow him down. He’s into the curl. He’s going switch-foot into the pipe.”

I peered through the binoculars and spied Driver Fox. He whirled his surf board across a gigantic wave. Water bounced off his pecs and board shorts as he raced through the foam. He was magnificent. The wave he rode carried him right into the shallows. He bobbed to the sand, gripping his board and ran right towards me. I started for the roadside yards above when he reached me first, grabbing my arm.

“Whoa. You work for me, remember?”

I spun and stared at the impossibly tall man. He didn’t seem to mind that he was flinging wet sand and saltwater every direction. I swatted dirt off my pants, ignoring the chuckles from a few cameramen. I recover fast though, and I stuck out my hand. “Mr. Fox? Hello—”

“You’re Skye Matthews. I know,” Driver gripped my hand hard and I managed to hold my smile. Rivulets of seawater trickled down his chest and over his board shorts to puddle on the ground. His lean, muscled body was ripped, as if sculpted by some Greek artist. His dark blond hair thatched between his pectorals, and trailed beneath his waistband. “I make it a point to know everything about my staff.”

From what I had learned the past few hours, Driver Fox was a force to be reckoned with. Fine with me. I just needed to know what kind of babysitting my new boss required.

C
hapter
Five

I noticed more water streaking his rock hard calves. “See something you like?” I looked up and saw him smiling. Great. I hadn’t been near a man in ages. Finally, I meet one and I ogle him like he’s a cut of steak. Even if I preferred my guys less 'muscle headed' and definitely more considerate when it came to women. I ignored his question and looked him squarely in the eye. He winked at me and turned and headed for the line of parked cars.

I followed him to his sports car, he opened the door and dropped his shorts right in front of me. I resisted the urge to look down and smiled pertly, “You could have warned me,” I said and turned towards the ocean.

He pulled a pair of pants from his Porsche and grinned at me. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Mr. Fox. Maybe now would be a good time for you to tell me what you expect from me?”

The man was sexy and he didn’t mind showing his stuff to anyone with a pulse on the California surf line. I shouldn’t have been shocked. But how often did I get to peek at a hunk of man with a package that could shame Don Draper? Driver Fox was
hung
.

He gave me a swift once-over and leaned his hip against the car. “You dress like that often?”

I looked down at my pants and jacket and then back at him. “This isn’t professional attire?”

“It’s a little too professional.” Driver leaned close and ran a beefy finger under the edge of the camisole that clung to my large breasts. “I like my people to represent me with a casual flair. I’ll have Jenks give you a new expense account.”

He slid into the Porsche and I stepped back when the engine roared. “Not used to large beasts?” he said over the growl of the engine.

“I can get used to it,” I folded myself into the car and strapped myself in, and eyed him levelly.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Driver gunned the sports car, and we sped onto the road that hugged the California coastline. The sun angled low over the horizon and we drove to a secluded section of hills by the shore. “There are five things I need you to do if we’re going to get along.” He shifted gears smoothly and I felt the machine roar underneath me. The wind whipped through Driver’s leonine hair and twirled mine into a tangle of frizz. Riding in a car with your hair blowing looked good on TV. But it sucks when you’ve got hair like mine and end up spending a quarter of your paycheck to keep your hair in check.

“I’m up at five and I have my breakfast in my sauna. I take my calls on my private cell. Here’s my number.” He handed me a card and I memorized his digits, then handed it back. “You’ll need that.”

“That’s okay. I have them.”

I saw his brows arch. “You have a photographic memory. That’s excellent. Aimee said she found a great assistant after Hallie. You might be the girl I need.” I shifted uneasy, and sensed him looking. “You’ve heard about the kind of man I am, Miss Matthews?”

There, he’d said it. Driver Fox seemed to be a man of contradictions. He prized himself on efficiency and he made no bones about hacking away anybody that didn’t esteem his company.
Fox Magazine
was the proof he knew publishing, and his audience - ranking number two in the world wasn’t small potatoes.

I wondered how many of the rumors I read about him were true. Everything I had read said that Driver Fox wooed women from the West Coast to both sides of the Atlantic while he ran his billionaire publishing biz from his smartphone. The online gossip sites call him “playboy” but I think it’s genius.

“I’m good in business and better with women. I live life hard and fast. You work with me for two years, and you can have any publishing job in the business. If you can survive me.”

Everyone east of the Atlantic knew Driver made
Fox
into the juiciest read since
Men's Health.
And I learned he’d tapped the female audience to do it. He claimed to give women an inside scoop into how men think, and that had set
Fox
apart from its number one competitor
Stuff
. Personally, I loved the number one mag's classy jock image, but how many ways can you write about crunches and squats?

“For the money you’re paying me, I’ll believe anything you say.” He eyed me fast, and I thought I had just put my head on the chopping block.

“You’re direct. I like that.”

“You gave me items one, two and three. What about points four and five?”

Driver Fox chuckled, and the sound rumbled through my core, making me warm.

“How do you feel about sushi?”

“Are we talking about your personal life, or the magazine, Mr. Fox?”

“You can call me Driver. I piss on formality with my team. I’ll have Aimee forward Hallie’s old itinerary. I’m about to make some changes in the company. And you didn’t answer my question.”

Driver turned into the driveway in front of a three-story bungalow, lined with palms. He leaned close and I lifted my chin, refusing to react.

No, I had to keep things professional. I watched him as he pulled a shirt over his muscular torso. Driver Fox was a bit of a mystery. He was clearly a ladies’ man. He was an athlete who seemed to enjoy the sport more than the competition. I remembered he hadn’t even stayed to hear the surfing contest results. I couldn’t deny that I was intrigued. I also had to admit that he was hot.

“There’s a fifty-fifty chance that everything you have heard and read about me is true.” His eyes gleamed in the low sunlight, and my breath caught in my throat. “You may have just struck a deal with the devil.”

The man was too danged sexy; my eyes were glued to the tribal tattoo on his stomach that disappeared under the waistband of his pants.

He grinned at me and suddenly I wanted to prove I could take anything he could dish out.

I looked at my boss and smiled, sweet as honey. “I prefer steak.”

I watched as Driver tossed his head back and laugh. “You and I are going to get along fine.”

C
hapter
Six

I wanted to prove I could handle anything Driver Fox could throw at me, at least that’s what I thought.

Jenks met me in the foyer, and I handed him what little clothes I had packed. Getting my first assignment with a pre-arranged flight to land at a surfer contest? I thought that was as far off the personal assistant map as I could get. As I trailed after Mr. Fox’s valet I was led into a pool-sized entertainment room. The main floor at a casino had fewer game tables and flat screen TV’s than this place. I turned slowly, trying to see everything. I spied several arcade games, a shuffle board, and a trampoline. I was tempted to ask if my boss had a gaggle of kids tucked away at a boarding school somewhere.

“The master enjoys recreational time between his early morning meetings with Tokyo and Australia,” Jenks said. He showed me to an elevator. I peeked inside then I stood next to him. The older man seemed to anticipate my growing curiosity. And he glanced at me when I didn’t enter the carriage. “The master will be expecting you to join him. First I must show you to your room.”

Room?
I’d just entered my boss’s house, and saw he had it tricked out like a ginormous Toys ‘R Us. Styled like a Dave & Buster’s with more RPG video games than an arcade.
Now I was given a room?

“Jenks? What exactly does Driver Fox expect his employees to do here?” I asked as nonchalantly as I knew how.

“Your job.”

I turned around and saw Driver. He’d changed into a cotton T-shirt, a comfortable looking sweater, slacks, and boat shoes. Not the typical nine to five, or business dinner fare. When Driver Fox said he enjoyed casual, I knew now what he meant. I thought I was looking at a young Gatsby for a second. And I didn’t mind, he looked,
good
.

“I’m stepping out for a little while. There is a news item circling around
Fox Magazine
that needs my attention. Jenks you have the list of stores we talked about, just have them send a rep here.” I saw my boss give me the once over again, and couldn’t help but feel like I had just been ravished. I worried that I enjoyed him doing it. “We can go over what you will do for me these next several days. You can get started once you settle into your room. That change in schedule I mentioned? It’s happening now. Set it, send word to Aimee. Then BCC Jenks on the confirmation. Any questions?”

Was he kidding? Yeah, I had them. Like, why was I staying in his house? How did he expect me to work, when I didn’t have my laptop, or access to any of the Fox-Regency software? I was going to work for him in-house now, literally. Did he think I would read his mind?

Then there was Jenks. He seemed to know
everything
I would ask, even
before
I had the question. Oh, I’d clicked that there were rules to this new assistant job. And like when I was Driver’s VA, many of the tasks I dealt with—were all unspoken. I knew I was the new kid on
Fox Magazine
lot, and it seemed Mr. Fox was dealing out a hand in Poker. Five Card Stud.

Driver Fox was as straight an arrow as possible when it came to business. But I had no idea this job was going to be a test.

I glanced from Jenks to my boss and smiled. “I imagine anything I need I can inquire from Jenks. Unless there are any other directions you have?” I waited, and watched a grin spread across my boss’s handsome face.

“Good, Skye. You are the right fit.” I rejoined his butler as he turned to the door. “I’ll be in later. We’ll discuss your ideas about how you see us working together.”

He smiled, left, and I stepped into the elevator with Jenks. The Donkey Kong arcade machine around the corner sputtered a circus tune. “You’ve worked for Mr. Fox a long time?”

“Yes. The master and I share a long history. I was valet to his father when the family company was Regency-West. The master’s father, W.T., owned the largest magazine company in Europe. He began the company Regency after he remarried in The States.”

“What does the ‘W.T.’ stand for?”

“William, most say. However, Mr. Fox’s father preferred his personal life separate from hearsay.” In other words, he didn’t know. I guessed the help was just that, no matter where they worked.

From what the media competition reported, ‘W.T.’ had run a tight ship. Right until he had a massive heart attack at sixty. So now Driver, his only son, held the company reins. “Does Mr. Fox have many assistants?”

Pleasurable female company was more like it. “The master has had only two in the past several years. He is selective with whom is welcome into his inner circle. This way.” We walked to a door and I was led into an enormous suite. Complete with plush carpeting, and a brass bed.

“And where does Mr. Fox sleep?”

Jenks blinked. “The master rarely sleeps.” I looked out a large window and saw the ground. We were on the third floor, and the ocean rolled in the distance. “I will return with a menu, and you may have dinner in your room.”

“Wait.” I leaned close. “Are you always so formal? What’s your name?”

“Jenks, is my name.” The man turned and left me alone in the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Great. So much for getting the inside information on my employer. Well, I’d just have to settle in and learn about what made Driver Fox such a big deal.

C
hapter
Seven

The computer in the room where I was staying didn’t have the USB port I needed. I’d ambled down a hall to see if I could find anything besides my phone to use, so when I saw the laptop, I decided to go for it. I checked to see if my boss had installed the home version of his company software on the laptop. I found it easily and plugged in the flash drive that I carried with me in case of work emergencies.