Ruthless Boss, Royal Mistress

It was the purest bad luck that he had to walk in just as she’d pushed back in her chair for a few minutes’ time out. She’d kicked off her sandals and was stretching her legs out in the air—circling her feet, wriggling her toes. The afternoon seemed long, long, long in front of her and she couldn’t wait to get home to her apartment, get changed and get out for a night on the town. There was a new bar in a hip part of the city and there was an invite-only opening party tonight. She wanted to dress up, wanted to dance and more than anything blow out the stale sit-at-a-desk-all-day stiffness and frustration.

Frozen, she watched as he strolled across the room, looking first at her ankles, slowly working his way up her legs, her body and finally into her face, which by now was on fire. She knew the blush must be a goodie—the warmth in her cheeks felt unbearable. Hell, she hadn’t blushed like this in years, always had a good grip on her emotions—yet this felt like the fiftieth time in two days. But the flame was purely from embarrassment and irritation at being caught slacking, not the way his attention had so carefully wandered up every inch of her legs, right?

Her discomfort increased when he didn’t stop at an appropriate distance from her desk, he came right up to the edge of it. Right up to her. Every cell was aware of his closeness and his scrutiny.

He didn’t bother to hide his cynicism. ‘Have you ever come across the concept of hard work?’ He put his hands on her desk, leaned over it so he was talking smack into her face. A slow, satirical smile pulled one half of his sensuous mouth up. He spoke again. ‘Are you like this in bed? Happy to sit back and let someone else do all the work?’

Shocked, she sat up. Stared into the gleaming depths of his brown eyes and read the challenge there.

He reached for her hand and studied her fingernails. ‘You wouldn’t be afraid to get a little dirty, would you, princess?’

She felt the sizzle from her hand to her heart, snatched her fingers from his. Swallowing, she tried to think of some sort of comeback. But all she could hear was the word bed. Bed? The atmosphere was charged and the red ‘fire’ button beckoned. Either of them could push it. The temptation was almost irresistible. She wondered exactly what it would take to make that flicker in his eyes explode into full-on flames. What she could say or do to galvanise him into action. She stared back and for a long moment paused on the brink of movement. Saw the almost imperceptible narrowing of his gaze as he too held back. This wasn’t wise.

Despite the desire rocketing though her, she had to maintain her priorities. She was not going to jeopardise her future by being one of his three-date wonders. Not going to destroy any of the credibility she was struggling so hard to earn by flirting with her boss.

Instead she mustered every ounce of dignity she could, forcing the flush from her cheeks. ‘I’ll bring the papers through in a minute. I just need to print and check them.’

He stood back. The spark of something dangerous in his eyes faded and something like respect replaced it. Then he was back to reserved.

‘Great.’ He disappeared into the office.

Liss sat motionless for a moment. She’d successfully fended off the moment of threat—so why did she feel some silly sense of disappointment?

She counted to one hundred and then took in the timetable she’d arranged for a series of meetings he had the following week. His wary half-smile disappeared the second he saw it and any hope his expression was simply a serious look of concentration faded as it turned into one serious frown. Liss’s heart started knocking uncomfortably against her ribs. She hadn’t just screwed up again, had she?

‘You know, princess—’ the slight jibe was there ‘—I’ll agree I’m a man of many talents, but being able to be in two places at once is beyond even me.’

It was her turn to frown. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Monday, three p.m.—I’m here for a conference call and in the auditorium for a presentation. How do you propose I do it?’

Liss stared hard at the paper, read upside down with a skill until now she’d never known she had. Oh, hell.

His voice cooled. ‘Look, prin—’

She didn’t want him to say it, didn’t want him to give up on her too. Not when she was finally getting her act together and her plans in place. So she interrupted. ‘I’ll fix it. I’ll fix it right away.’ She snatched the paper back. Thank heavens she hadn’t emailed it on to the other attendees yet.

He looked at her, the hard gaze seeking to penetrate her reserve while revealing nothing of his own thoughts. There was silence for a few moments. Then he nodded and she made her escape—quick.

James knew he should never have made the ‘in bed’ comment. Totally inappropriate. And it was because he’d been dumb enough to make it that he felt he owed her another chance. But he couldn’t quite regret it. The look on her face had been priceless—for one second totally floored, and in the next? Aware—as aware of him as he’d been of her the whole damn day.

And finding her lying back in that chair, her body shown off to glorious perfection, what else would leap into his mind at that sight? Liss languorously lying in bed, those incredibly long legs bare and bronzed on white cotton sheets, her body a little damp, her face as flushed as it had been then, but this time with the glow of completion in her eyes…

The image instantly had him tormented by longing. What would that effortlessly graceful, oh, so sophisticated princess be like? How would she look, how would she sound, in the moment when her body mastered her mind and she succumbed to sensation? He ached to know and had needed the satisfaction of seeing her desire revealed for just that one second. But she hadn’t followed through—hadn’t bantered back. She was wary with him. Which was interesting. Why? From the papers she seemed to be full of flirtation when she was out at all her parties. Had he suddenly grown horns and a tail?

He shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be interested. Shouldn’t be wasting this much time thinking about a woman who would be as fickle as an autumnal day.

It was pretty obvious she wasn’t that happy. He snorted. Hell, all that was probably bothering her was the fact she had to work for a change.

Now he was behind by about half an hour on his work and he needed to wrap it up. There was a function at a new bar that he was due to look in on.

Liss made a quick exit, right on closing time as usual, but he was glad she was gone. Now he could get on with his work and stop his mind—and body—from dwelling on her. It was stupid of him, when he knew what she’d be like—inconsistent, unreliable, untruthful. Exactly the kind of woman he swore he’d never bother with—never again. One fun-loving, unfaithful girlfriend was enough. Even now, his scars were red and sore and constantly aggravated by the day-to-day reality of his parents’ dysfunctional relationship. The mess that they were simply cemented his belief that long-term monogamy wasn’t possible. Short-term, sure—very short. But Liss was here as his employee, worse than that she was flavour of the month for the media circus and as far as James was concerned he’d been in one magazine too many as it was. It was totally in his best interests to ignore her.

But of course she was there, at the opening party for the bar and in full glamour-girl mode. He spotted her immediately—she was hard to miss in a stunning black dress that clung low to her torso, showing off every beautiful curve, and then flaring out. As she walked there were slits in the skirt granting tantalising glimpses of those gorgeous legs. She wore her hair out and it hung long down her back and once again he had the urge to wind his fingers into it and feel its soft length brush against his body.

He saw the moment that she saw him. She’d lifted her head in laughter at something some admirer was saying and she caught his gaze full on. Her laughter stilled but she kept up her smile. There was definitely an increase of sharpness in her eyes. He walked towards her, smiling and nodding at acquaintances on the way but, for the most part, keeping his eyes on hers. She kept chatting to the small circle of people she stood in the centre of, but, for the most part, met his gaze. As he neared she broke away, moving forward to meet him, free of the entourage. He grinned inwardly, knowing the action revealed her sense of relationship with him—sure, it was as employer, but they had a connection more than this mere socialising. He refused to analyse why this pleased him, just enjoyed the sense of satisfaction.

‘You didn’t tell me you were coming here tonight.’ He could have given her a lift.

‘You only need to know about my contracted hours, right?’ she answered coolly. ‘I’m surprised to see you here—I thought you’d have more work to do.’

He grinned. So she was still a little fired from his comments this afternoon. But he ignored the words, instead fixed all his attention on her feet and the outrageous shoes on them. Surely heels that thin and high wouldn’t be able to bear the weight of a cat let alone a full-grown woman—even one as slim as Liss. They were the flimsiest things he’d ever seen—and he’d seen a few pairs of high-heeled shoes in his time.

‘Aren’t you tall enough?’ he drawled.

A smile, one he hadn’t seen on her before, curved her mouth and highlighted her eyes—beautiful, brown and deep enough to drown in. They glittered, mysterious, mesmerising and he sank fast.

She stepped forward, so the gap between them became personal, not businesslike. Every muscle in James had leapt to attention the minute he’d seen her in the room. Now they hit screaming point. So close—he ached for closer.

She stood another half millimetre taller as she stretched onto the very tips of her toes. Her head tilted back. And the touch of naughty in her face increased, as did the promise of sensual delight.

Stunned into immobility, James realised she was about to kiss him. Her lips were parted and full and devastatingly close. He caught the glimpse of white teeth and the tip of a pink tongue. But her mouth didn’t quite reach his. His blood pounded. The power of reason vanished and instinct took over. But just as he bent to meet her she whisked her head down and away.

‘Guess not.’ Her drawl more than matched his.

Guess not what? Oh. He got it. Not tall enough.

Damn.

She granted him a coolly indifferent smile—but her eyes were flashing with success, satisfaction and humour. He was sure she’d laugh aloud. But something stopped her—the slight shadow behind the light. The dark gleam of desire was almost invisible but he caught it before she looked away. She’d wanted to follow through on that kiss as much as he’d wanted her to. And that stopped them both from laughing.

He didn’t know what he needed first—a deep breath of air or a deep gulp of his drink.

He watched her thread through the crowd of people. But she didn’t disappear. A woman like that could never disappear. Anger traced through him. He refused to be the latest toy for her to play with. So much for thinking she’d been wary—in that moment she’d been an absolute minx. Ignoring the attraction between them wasn’t going to work. Instead he was going to have to harness it and use it to his advantage. But he’d have to be careful. He’d only touched her hand once and that had sent a bolt right to the source of his desire. Already he knew he was going to have to kiss her. Soon.

He was a man well used to being in charge. Surely he could stay in charge of this situation?

Stupid, stupid, stupid. It took almost half an hour for Liss’s heart rate to return to normal. Her overt flirt with James had resulted in the biggest cardiovascular workout of her life. If she weren’t so young and in such good health, she’d wonder if some sort of attack was imminent. She definitely shouldn’t get any closer. She definitely wanted to.

It was the first time she’d seen him in formal dress. The classic tuxedo did a lot for any man. For a man like James, it simply lifted him into the realm of super stud. The tall, dark and handsome cliché didn’t do him justice whatsoever. It wasn’t that he was the epitome of male beauty. She’d seen more ‘beautiful’ men. But he was more attractive than any male model she’d known and she’d met several in Paris.

James had strong, even features, above-average height, a breadth of shoulders that made Liss pathetically weak at the knees. All pluses. But the key was in his stance, the way he carried himself. Some people had an aura about them—they turned heads the minute they appeared. They had people watching, listening to their every word—charisma.

James Black had a lot of charisma.

So, one look at him in that suit and all the breath had rushed from her body. As a result her brain, starved of think-fuel, had let her do something stupid. Her lips were never going to forgive her. Every nerve-ending in them screamed for what had been so close. His mouth was full and forever curved with that charming yet slightly mocking half-smile. So tantalising. Getting in close like that she’d got a taste of his scent. Fresh, clean. There was nothing nicer than the plain smell of soap and man. Her mind decided then and there to play the movie of James and soap and steaming, streaming water and nothing else.

‘Don’t you agree, Liss?’

‘I’m sorry?’ Jerked out of her reverie by a question she almost hadn’t heard, she realised she’d better save the erotic daydreaming for another time and place. Better still she should stop it altogether.

Idiot. Overcome by an impulse that had been too tempting to pass up. In the workplace she’d managed to hold back, maintain her dignity even. She’d just thrown all that away.

All she had to do was do her job well, have a nice time in the evening—nothing too outrageous. Nothing the family could get too upset about. Succeed at the basics.

So she concentrated on the party at hand, moving among her fellow guests, meeting people. She’d learnt a bit from those years in Paris—found that parties weren’t just about having a good time yourself. It was much more fun if everyone was having a good time. She found her natural curiosity about people helped. But she was most curious about James. She kept her distance but glanced at him often, watching as, oozing with finesse, he schmoozed everyone he was near. But it was a genuine wow factor. He was attentive, he listened. He seemed to care about the conversations and the people he was having them with. Oh, yes, he had it all.

* * *

From his own busy networking, he watched her work the party—drink in hand. Tiny sips—the sparkle in her eyes from pure pleasure, not from any alcohol or artificial stimulant. She had everyone’s name right, introduced people with titbits of info that would interest the others. She took the time to talk to everyone—including those clearly a little in awe of talking to a real live princess. Oh, yeah, she had the whole thing down pat—but with a grace so genuine it was dazzling.

You’d think she was the hostess of the place, who’d been here for ever, known them all for ages instead of only having met most of them this very evening.

His body was burning with the need to expend the pent-up energy. She’d coiled him up and then given him that one last little twist to ensure he was on the brink of exploding. He was going to have to get her for that. But he’d keep his distance for now. The paparazzi had turned up and the last thing he wanted was to be the latest escort printed in the papers. So he observed and simmered. He saw now why she liked parties—she was good at them. And that point got him to thinking. Most people liked doing what they were good at and maybe Liss would be better off trying to do a job that she’d actually be good at. Her trying to be a secretary was like a giraffe trying to roller skate—pretty much asking the impossible. But he had to give her credit—she was making an effort.

Eventually, on his way out, he couldn’t resist. He was the moth, she the flame. He grimaced at the cliché. He refused to get burned, but maybe he’d get a little warm.

‘Need a refill? You’ve hardly touched your drink.’

Liss turned towards him, away from the rest of the party. ‘I finish up all the bottles later in the night,’ she quipped, determined to keep things light, free from danger.

‘Ah. So you start the evening as the perfect hostess and end the evening as the wild child.’

‘Some habits are hard to break.’

‘So I should stick beside you later on, then. I’m interested in seeing how wild that side of you is.’

Stick beside her? Temptation called again. ‘Never this side of midnight. It’ll probably be too late for you.’

‘How late do you go?’

‘As late as I like.’

His smile was sharp. ‘And will you be shining with the freshness of a daisy at work tomorrow morning?’

She froze. She should have seen that one coming. ‘My social life doesn’t impact on my work life.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Indeed.’ She caught that gleam in his eye and added for good measure, ‘I keep the two entirely separate.’

His grin was wicked and he wasn’t even trying to hide it. ‘Is that so?’ He repeated the question, dripping in disbelief, slower and even more sarcastic than the first time.

She could hardly blame him. After all, she’d been the one who’d attempted the whole near-miss-kiss thing. But she couldn’t wholly regret that either. Winning that momentary burn in his eyes had been one hell of a thrill. It was nice to pretend that for just one little itty-bitty second she’d had the power over him and he was the one dancing to her tune—well, almost. He’d wanted it.

So now, having scored that point, she could let the matter go—entirely.

She turned, aimed for professional. ‘See you tomorrow.’

He called after her with a triumphant drawl. ‘You’ll be on your own, princess. Tomorrow’s Saturday.’

CHAPTER THREE

LISS would have slept in if it weren’t for the fact that she couldn’t stop thinking about James. One moment he was hot—looking at her as if he wanted her—the next coolly sarcastic and disapproving. The zing was undeniable but the circumstances were all wrong and she got the vibe he thought she was all wrong. Her only logical course of action was to retreat. Be cool and professional during the day and keep her distance should their social schedules intersect.

But, oh, my, he looked so good in a tux—and in a business suit. Thank heavens she didn’t have to see him doing casual; she had the feeling he’d fill a pair of jeans jaw-droppingly well.

She spent a long time in the shower, the noise of the streaming water blocking the oppressive silence within the apartment. She slipped on skinny jeans and a casual tee shirt. Not bothering with much in the way of make-up. After a scrappy lunch she decided to leave for her appointment early—especially as she was determined to master the public transport system this week and not have it beat her. The numerous taxis home at night were beginning to add up and she couldn’t afford to take them during the day as well. And after last week’s nightmare of getting it all wrong, at least now she knew exactly which train and which bus were the ones to get. All she had to do was make it to the station on time.

She picked up her crate of goodies and headed out the door. By the time she was out of the lift and crossing the lobby she was ruefully thinking the crate was bulky and surprisingly heavy. She should have put it all in her wheelie case. Just then one of her slip-on shoes decided to slip off and skitter halfway across the floor.

‘Damn,’ she muttered.

‘Where are you going?’

She jerked her head around. James was walking across the floor—James?

‘To the station,’ she blurted, totally nonplussed.

‘Carrying that?’

She ignored the question, too busy picking up her jaw. She’d been right about the jeans—fit and firm and with that not-too-tight-not-too-loose tee shirt he was stealing all her breath. ‘What are you doing here?’ she half whispered, half hysterical.

‘I live in the penthouse.’

‘Oh.’ She tried to process that while juggling the crate and attempting to slip her foot back into the misbehaving shoe. She failed at all three.

‘Can I help you?’

‘No, thanks.’ Cool and professional. That was the way. Not ogling. Not imagining what his apartment must be like. Not feeling completely thrown.

But he’d already taken the crate from her and was frowning. ‘Which part of town are you headed to?’

‘Oh. Um. Just the other side of Chatswood.’

‘Why are you going there?’

She shrugged, getting her grip back. ‘I have some things to do there.’

His frown deepened. ‘I’ll give you a lift. I’m going out anyway.’

‘Oh, no, thanks, James…’ She broke off, finding herself talking to empty air. He was already at the lift. She righted her shoe and fell into line, going with him to the car park in the basement and to the sleek two-seater convertible he’d just unlocked.

To her relief, he didn’t speak as they drove. She gave him the address and that was it—giving her time to recover, and to surreptitiously check him out some more. After five minutes she knew she was best off staring out the window. Her heart rate would never get back to normal otherwise. When they pulled up at the house, she saw him looking it over—critical all the way.

‘Are you going to be long?’

Liss nearly giggled. He was acting like some control-freak bodyguard.

‘A couple of hours, I think.’ She’d just sit and hang with the girls, talk a little, more importantly listen.

‘I’ll be done about then too so I’ll come back and pick you up.’

It wasn’t an offer, it was a statement of intent and she already knew there was no point arguing. Might as well just enjoy the ride. ‘Thanks. That would be great.’

Two hours later James sat at the wheel of the car outside and waited. Twenty minutes after that he got out. She’d be fine of course, he wasn’t really worried. He’d got into the office and Googled the name of the place as soon as his computer had powered up. Atlanta House—a safe shelter for young mothers to stay while they waited for their babies to be born. A place where they could try to keep up their schooling and learn basic parenting skills too. A place to go when no one else would take them in.

He figured it was a charity stop for her. Of course she’d be keen to be seen doing ‘her bit’—especially with her brother Alex putting the hard word on her. It was the done thing for a wealthy socialite—to be known as a great charity supporter. James walked up the path, eyeing the building with cynical disfavour. Liss’s interest here could only be about appearances—only to further her own cause. His mother was exactly the same—on the committee for this, fund-raising for that…but the primary purpose had been to maintain the façade.

Liss was probably faking her way through every minute of her time inside there. Doing it out of a sense of duty, not any real desire.

He did wonder about the plastic crate, though.

After he knocked, the door was answered smartly by a very pregnant teen whose eyes grew even rounder than her tummy as she stared at him, and then at his car parked illegally right outside. He asked for Liss.

‘She’s in the common room. I’ll get her for you.’

He took a step through the doorway, lingering in the hall as the young woman headed towards the sound of giggles. He looked at the notice board covered with pictures of young mums cradling newborn babies—cards and postcards and letters of thanks and progress reports. He half expected to see a picture of Liss sitting in a circle of beaming girls—their most famous visitor. He figured one would be up there soon. She’d sign some saccharine message on it and it would be framed and hung proudly. Then it would fade in the light and gather dust and she’d probably never darken their door again. Irritated, he walked away from the brightly coloured board and further along the hall.