Page 11 of Naughty Nelle

CHAPTER 5

Zoey

“Freeze!” Brandon barks. “What are you doing here?”

Jeez. He’s in a good mood. Just kidding. I’ve been away for almost three weeks, and this is how he treats me? Okay. I didn’t expect him to run over to me in movie-time slow-mo and hug me, but I expected a little warmth. Something along the lines of “Hi. I’m so glad to see you.” Wishful thinking. Once an asshole. Always an asshole. Though a damn gorgeous one.

I stop dead in my tracks and soak him in. He looks fresh out of a shower. Just the way he did the first time I met him. His damp inky hair is perfectly uncombed, and a thick towel is wrapped around his toned torso, hanging sexily low on his hips. How could anyone look so ridiculously gorgeous after spending so much time in a hospital? Alright, he’s pale and a little thinner, but the weight loss only accentuates the definition of his lean, finely honed muscles. My breath hitches in my throat as my eyes travel from his devastating face to his broad chiseled chest, past his rippled abs and that perfect pelvic V, and then down his long, muscular legs to his perfectly formed bare toes. Every sculpted feature and limb sends a rush of tingles to my core. He’s still the epitome of pure masculine perfection. My legs turn to jelly. I’m not prepared for the panty-melting impact he has on me. I maintain a poker face, not letting him know how much he affects me. I’ve become a master of my emotions and reactions.

His long-lashed violet eyes laser into me. “Answer my question or I’ll call the police.”

His harsh, unexpected words sober me. Did he lose his mind in the hospital? Sustain some kind of head injury? I mean, he’s always been mental, but this is insane. My eyes meet his fiery gaze.

“Hel-lo-O. It’s me. Zoey Hart. Your assistant. Remember?”

Cocking his head, he looks at me confoundedly. “Huh?”

“You know. Your go-to girl. Go-To-Zo.” Maybe he doesn’t recognize me because I’ve lost a little weight. On second thought, fat chance.

“How did you get past the gate?”

“Do I look like the type who would jump it?” My sarcasm is lost on him. “Duh! I have the security code.”

His dense brows furrow. “How long have you been working for me?”

He’s got to be kidding. Maybe he’s just putting me on. “To be exact, two years, two months, and two days.” Over two insufferable years.

His eyes blink pensively. “Really?” The word is infused with doubt and surprise.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“Kinda. I guess you know I had an accident.”

“Yeah.” The horrific memory flashes into my head. To be honest, I haven’t stopped reliving it. The bloodshed…his touch…the sirens…my words. For the second time in my life, death stared me in the face. A chill passes through me.

“Why didn’t you come visit me at the hospital?” His tone sharpens.

“Believe me, I wanted to.” Oh, God did I. More than you’ll ever know. “But your lovely manager Scott forced me to take a paid vacation for as long as you were there. He told me that if I didn’t obey his orders, he had the authority to fire me. I didn’t want to lose my job.” Or you. “So I did as he asked.”

Digesting my words, Brandon tugs at his lower lip with his thumb. He always does that when he’s thinking. It’s so damn sexy. My cheeks heat. I want to jump out of my skin. Jump him.

“Where were you?”

“He sent me to a retreat with no connections to the outside world.”

Brandon purses his lips. “I see. How did you know I was back home?”

“From one of the women who checked in this morning. That’s all she could talk about. Your release was all over the news and Internet. As soon as I found out, I packed my bag and checked out.” I pause. “Oh, and by the way, I called Scott from my car and told him I was coming back.”

Brandon’s jaw tightens. “Did he tell you I have amnesia?”

What?My eyes widen and my blood pounds in my ear. I blurt out an angry “no.” I’m so pissed Scott didn’t tell me I could kill him, but then again, I shouldn’t be so startled. The man despises me, and let me tell you, it’s mutual. Slimeball! Well, at least, that explains my boss’s strange behavior. I wonder if he’s forgotten what an asshole he is. That would be refreshing.

His voice cuts into my deviant thoughts. He apologizes for threatening to have me arrested and then asks me to join him for a drink in the kitchen to catch up. It’s not an invitation but rather an order. The amnesia has clearly not changed his bossy personality. Being his employee, I give in to his request but tell him I can’t stay long. I have a lot of catching up of my own to do. Including responding to the zillion tweets he got from fans while he was in the hospital. At the kitchen island, I sit cattycorner to him, drinking a bottled water, while he nurses a Scotch. My eyes stay on him. God, he’s gorgeous! I’m sure he hasn’t forgotten that.

“So refresh my memory, Zoey, and tell me, what exactly do you do for me?”

Ha! What exactly don’t I do for him would be a more apropos question. Let’s see…where should I start? After a big gulp of the water, I begin.

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