Chapter 3

He mentally shook the thought out of his head and aimed for his desk as soon as they were inside. Margo had been talking nonstop about what he had missed, but he had completely zoned out on her and hadn’t heard a thing. He felt irritated at himself suddenly.

Shit. When did he ever do that? What the fuck was he doing? Oh yeah, staring at some chick’s fucking hair and having an internal debate on it. Get a grip, Carrero. This hangover is messing with your head.

Arrick slumped into the low couch under the naked lesbian painting by Hunter’s cousin. He wasn’t that enamored with it, but the fifty grand he’d paid to give the guy a helping hand meant he had to hang it somewhere. He sure as hell didn’t want it at home, and no one ventured in here much except Margo and now this new girl. The New York skyline was getting an unobstructed view of tits and ass, anyway.

His phone vibrated in his inner jacket pocket, and he pulled it out, still practically ignoring Margo as she read from a clipboard. All he could hear was “meeting” “lawyers” and something about contracts. This was not him at all, and he realized that fighting it was futile. Soon as this was done, he was closing the door and taking a nap. Arrick looked ready to do the same, and he could move the hell over on that couch. Soldier boy could guard the sleeping duo if he had nothing better to do.

“Shall I get her?” Margo blinked his way as he focused on his phone. He waved a hand and smiled as if to say sure.

Let’s see what the honey-blonde was like. He sure could use some focus today, and meeting his new assistant might be that. He had scoured her file on the way over here, and she sounded a little too good to be true on paper. Career girl, smart, no rumors swirling about sexual favors to climb the ranks; young and unattached, so ripe for trips anytime he needed them.

She sounded promising.

“Emma, please come into Mr. Carrero’s office. Thank you.” Margo was leaning over his desk and pressing the intercom to summon his future number two; meanwhile, he was reading the text from the chick with the elusive name, wondering how the hell he could see the same girl for a week and not have saved her phone number under an actual name. He’d saved it as T.

Fuck’s sake, Carrero.

The name Emma swam in his mind’s eye, and he found himself sounding it out. He liked it. Short and sort of soft, in a way. Easy to remember.

Do you want to see me tonight? I really like being with you xxx T.

“Yes, Mrs. Drake.” The voice coming back from the intercom distracted him from replying momentarily; sultry and cute if he had to describe it, and he completely forgot what he was about to respond to T. He definitely had some internal reaction to the sound of her, and that wasn’t an entirely good thing. Frowning it away, he focused back on his phone and typed a response. This one had already met the limit of interest, a week quicker than most, and the thought of fucking her again did nothing for him all of a sudden.

Look, sweetheart, it’s been fun. Let’s part as friends and agree to see each other around. x J

He knew cutting them loose before things got emotional was the best bet, and this one had clingy written all over her. He didn’t do relationships, and he certainly didn’t keep the same chick hanging on for weeks on end.

“Ah, Emma, here you are.” Margo purred with a voice laced with adoration. This girl had his second in command wrapped around her little finger already, which was unusual for Margo. The woman didn’t sway easily. Pushing his phone back into his inner pocket and ignoring the buzz of a reply from T, he inclined his head a little in interest at whoever was winning over his assistant, and his body paused.

Black, sexy-as-hell stilettos, running up creamy, shapely legs to a tight and figure-hugging skirt from knee to thigh, had him almost dropping his mouth open. She wasn’t skinny in that gaunt, supermodel way, she wasn’t even that tall, but she had the kind of curves that were made for holding onto and definitely his kind of thing.

She was pretty tiny as women went, but that only added to the whole effect. Moving further up past that well-fitted and expensive tailored jacket, he caught his breath on the most astounding pair of tits he had ever seen. Not overly huge, just soft and inviting and barely concealed under the low-cut jacket and soft silk blouse. Not much on show, but enough to pique his interest. If he was being honest, he had a hell of a lot more interest than he had managed to conjure for any girl in a heck of a long time, and that was disturbing. If he had met her anywhere else, she wouldn’t still be dressed right now. A graceful creamy neck that looked seriously touchable, and he could imagine holding her around it to push her against a wall and devouring that skin. His eyes swept finally to the face that was turned toward Margo, only a profile but a damned perfect one at that, and Jake couldn’t seem to think anymore for a moment.

Fuck.

“Jake, this is Emma Anderson. She’s your new assistant in training. Your new number two.” Margo smiled his way, realizing he was staring; she hadn’t caught him yet, and she sure as hell wouldn’t. He wasn’t some prepubescent teen with zero skills. Looking down at the floor, he could feel himself instinctively taking calming breaths, regaining composure quickly with all the skill of a seasoned Lothario.

Okay, you’re just horny… Obviously! And she’s not your usual type. New and exciting, and you have been bored with the likes of women with forgettable names and no tits lately.

“Miss Anderson.”