Page 7 of Daddy Billionaire Dragon

“Lex, your new executive assistant is here. Shall I bring her in?”

Oh thank God. At least something has worked out in my favor. But I’m too caught up with the work to meet her just yet.

“Not now, Rachel. Why don’t you give her an overview and I will meet with her after the investors’ meeting?”

Rachel agrees and hangs up.

Soon, I am on a video conference with the investors and lose track of time. A quick look at the clock tells me that it’s time for lunch. Now would be as good a time as any to meet the new executive assistant. I ask Rachel to send her in, and a short while later, there’s a knock on my door,

“Come in,” I say without looking up from the screen. When I do look up a moment later, I feel the air rush out of my lungs.

It’s her. It’s Nic. In flesh. In my office.

For a moment I think that I have obsessed over her so much over the weekend that I’m seeing things, but I know that’s silly. If she were really a figment of my imagination, she’d be wearing next to nothing. Because that’s how I’ve been imagining her. Not that the skirt suit doesn’t look sexy on her. It does. It hugs her hourglass figure and leaves her firm calves exposed. Her red hair is tied up in a ponytail. All I want to do is muss her perfect hair and her perfect makeup.

“You,” I manage to say after what seems like ages, both of us staring at each other with our dumbfounded expressions mirroring each other’s.

“I’m your new executive assistant, Mr. Hutchinson,” she says, clutching a legal pad tightly to her chest as if her life depended on it. She tries to smile when she says it, but doesn’t quite manage.

“Nic. You are my executive assistant,” I repeat, still unable to tear my gaze away from her.

“Yes, that’s me. Nicola Roberts,” she says nervously.

“Not going to do the disappearing act again, are you? Why did you leave?” I asked, unable to keep the note of accusation out of my voice.

She winces upon hearing my question.

“I’m sorry,” she says, hoping to pacify me. But I am not after her apology. I really do want to know what made her change her mind.

“Please, don’t be. I only wish that you’d told me before leaving so abruptly,” I say with a smile.

“I really am sorry. But in my defense, I never thought I would see you again,” she says, looking up at me sheepishly. I grin.

“That’s called being brutally honest.”

She winces again.

“Well, I’m not in the habit of going home with random strangers, Mr. Hutchison,” she says with a shrug.

“Call me Lex. We are on a first-name basis here. You don’t have to be so formal now that you know who I am. After all, things would have been a lot more informal had you come home with me,” I cannot resist teasing. I am flirting with my new executive assistant in my office, which is totally, completely unlike me in addition to being totally, completely insane.

“Sure, Lex,” she says, and I can tell that she has a comeback ready, but doesn’t say it as she probably wants to be deferential to me.

“You can speak your mind. I don’t penalize my employees for speaking their minds,” I smile.

“Well in that case, Lex, I am glad that I had the good sense to not let things get informal,” she says with a saccharine sweet smile. “Imagine how awkward this meeting would have been,” she adds, batting her lashes at me.

Cheeky woman. But she’s feisty as well. And she seems to have recovered quite well from the initial shock. In fact, she is a lot more relaxed here than she was at The Sitting Duck. Probably thinks I won’t put the moves on her here. What she doesn’t know is knowing that anything between us is forbidden is only making me want her more.

“Have lunch with me,” I say standing up and walking over to the other side of my desk. She instinctively steps away. There’s that hint of nervousness again.

“Relax, I’m not going to eat you.” I say with a wolfish grin that perhaps does nothing to keep her worries at bay. “It’s strictly business. It’s almost lunch hour and we aren’t acquainted properly yet.”

“Alright, let me grab my purse,” she says, trying to rush out of the office. I step forward and wrap my fingers around her arm.

“There’s no need for that. It’s a business lunch. Druk Technologies will foot the bill,” I say, unwilling to let her get away. The last time I did, we all know how it ended. It is unreasonable I know, but a part of me fears that if I let her walk out of the door, she will keep walking and never come back.

And I’m not going to let it happen a second time.

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