Page 336 of The Christmas Wife

He looks me up and down. "You’re new, I take it?"

"I’m Edward’s Chase’s new assistant."

"Well, I’d say good luck, but it’s not going to help where Priest is concerned. As for you"—he turns to Adela—"I hope you have your CV brushed up. You’re going to need it."

I open my mouth to tell him off when a hard voice interrupts, "Ms. Young, am I paying you so you can waste your time babysitting?"

5

Edward

"Firstly, any time spent baby-sitting is not a waste. Babies are our future and take priority over anything else." She plants her hands on her hips. "Secondly, you haven’t yet paid me, and thirdly?—"

The baby’s wails rise to a crescendo.

"—you’re scaring the little mite."

With that, she flounces toward my HR manager and holds out her arms. The other woman hesitates; the baby screams louder.

Someone pops his head out of his room, while another woman looks over her cubicle. Both notice me and retreat without a peep. In the week since I’ve taken over as CEO of the company, my reputation has been cemented as someone not to be messed with. Except for this sprite of a woman who turns her back on me.

My HR manager hands over the baby to my new assistant. She rocks the kid, soothes it, but the child only cries louder. She pats the little one’s back but the infant screams.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” I stalk over to her and hold out my arms. “Hand over the kid.”

She gapes at me. “You?”

My HR manager looks at me with an expression of shock.

“I was a priest. I know how to calm a child,” I say through gritted teeth.

The infant solves the problem by jumping into my chest. I hold the kid close, then rub ever widening circles over her back. Her crying slows down, turns into hiccups, then stops. The baby draws in a deep breath, and her eyelids flicker down. I smooth down the wisps of soft curls on her head, then rock her for a few more seconds, before I hand her over to my HR manager.

"Thank you," she whispers.

I nod, then turn to my assistant, in time to catch the dreamy expression on her face. Hold a child in your arms, and every woman in the vicinity takes it as a sign you’re ready to procreate. Something I’ve sworn off. "Ms. Young, don’t keep me waiting again,” I snap.

She blinks then straightens her spine, “I’m the one who’s beenwaiting. I came in at eight a.m., as instructed, but you weren’t here.” She smooths her hand down the skirt she’s wearing. One which clings to her curves and outlines her full figure. Her hips are the most enticing I have ever seen. As for her thick thighs which stretch the fabric of her skirt? I’d do anything to squeeze them apart and—I stiffen, then curl my fingers into fists at my sides. She wore that skirt on purpose, knowing how tempting she’d come across in it. She squeezed into it, knowing exactly the effect it’d have on me. But I’m not going to give into my base instincts. I will not be distracted from my goal ofbecoming the CEO of this company. I resisted my impulses when I was a priest. Surely, I can do the same now?

“I’ve done what I could with your email inbox, but I need some direction.” She sets her jaw. “And I couldn’t stand by while the baby cried. Also, I had my phone with me so you could have contacted me anytime." She pulls out the device and waves it around.

I arch an eyebrow at her, and she blinks rapidly. "Surely, you didn’t expect me to stand by while Adela needed help with her child."

"Speaking of"—I turn to my HR manager—"you’re aware children aren’t allowed in the building?"

"What?" my assistant screeches in horror. "No children in the building?"

I glare at her. "Look around you, Ms. Young. This is a workplace."

"So? People have families. And working women like Adela need babysitting facilities so they're assured their children are taken care of while they're at work."

"Does it look like I’m running a charity, Ms. Young?"

She juts out her lower lip, and my dick twitches. A zing of lust sizzles up my spine. I stiffen. There is no room for a woman in my life—not since the one I wanted decided I was not for her. I made a vow, then, never to be emotionally involved again. It’s one I don’t intend to break. Definitely not for a curvy woman who streaks her hair purple and with a figure like she’s channeling Marilyn Monroe.

"Companies which provide childcare have seen productivity soar by fifteen percent," she announces.

"Is that right?" I drawl.

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