Page 21 of The Boss

“I wasn’t flirting!”

“You were, even if you didn’t realize it.”

“So now I can’t talk to men?”

“We’ll discuss it later over dinner.”

“Why don’t you draw up a business contract while you’re at it?” Is she walking away from me? “That way I know all the rules of this relationship, Julianna!”

I don’t pursue her. Because she’s given me a fantastic idea.

Alessa Penrose, you really, truly have no idea what wondrous things you are in for.

Part 2

Seduced by Her

Chapter 9

Alessa

I’m sitting in one of the most exclusive restaurants in Portland. The kind that requires an annual membership that totals into the hundreds – no, thousands – of dollars, and that’s only to guarantee you a spot on most of the nights you want. You still pay for the food and drink at the end of your stay, and looking at this menu has me shaking in my brand-new Prada heels.

I don’t know how I’ve ended up in this restaurant, eating this food, wearing these clothes, and gazing upon one of the hottest women I’ve ever met.

A woman I happened to lose my virginity to only a few days ago.

I may have panicked and run out on her before she realized I skipped out on the limo ride, but by this Monday afternoon, I was agreeing to be her new personal assistant… and girlfriend.

One of the first things Julianna did was send me to get some nice clothes. I showed up at the designated department storewhere she had a credit line and walked out with three new outfits, two new pairs of shoes, and a palette of makeup. I never thought in a million years I would wear a designer dress like this on someone else’s dime! Because my Prada shoes aren’t cute enough, I’m wearing a matching Chanel dress that hugs my body and covers my skin at the same time. I’m not stupid. I know what this sapphire blue does for my new…

New…

Dear God, is she actually my girlfriend?

No way. This is a lark. This will be over the moment she’s bored with me.

Although… can a woman who looks at me like this getboredof me?

I’m like a blushing virgin all over again every time I meet her eyes across the table. One hour ago, we were at a function thrown by one of Julianna’s biggest business associates. We weren’t staying long. Not when we were both hungry and the only thing available to eat was finger food. As soon as it was socially acceptable, Julianna put her arm around me and swept me out of that small gathering of people who run half of the city. Who knew that even a small one like Portland had that kind of rich life lurking beneath its rainy streets?

“You are so gorgeous,” Julianna says, leaning across our intimate table in its private room. The only people we’ve seen since sitting down are the sommelier and waiter. Julianna ordered for me after asking if I had any allergies. Granted, the woman ordered me a salad, but it’s one of the biggest, most delicious, heartiest salads I’ve had in my life. I won’t be hungry.

Not that I have much appetite now. I’m still reeling from the magic of the day, our first sexual encounter swimming in the deep recesses of my memory. The way she kissed me, dipping her tongue into my throat and caressing every inch of my mouth.The way she pinched my skin, sensually, easing my legs open and making me wet.The way she fucked me!Can’t forget that!

“You’re a gorgeous woman yourself.” I feel brave saying that. Who am I to tell Julianna Marcon that she’s gorgeous? Of course she knows that. She could be a model for any European designer desperate enough to have her. Look at her! The healthy glow of her skin goes perfectly with her milk-white blouse and blue and gray striped skirt. Her jacket hangs over the back of her chair. A delicate Cartier watch glistens on her wrist. I remember how cool it felt against my thighs Friday night when she pulled my legs open and went down on me.Down! On me!Shit. Now I’m blushing. I had told myself I would keep this relationship professional because I don’t delude myself into thinking it’s forever, or that she takes it seriously.

It’s safe to say I have no idea what’s going on when she opens a Moleskine notebook and pulls a hefty pen from her pocket. My father has a pen like that. He keeps it locked up in his office because it’s so nice – and expensive. Says it’s only for signing important documents or writing personal letters that need an extra touch. Doesn’t it make sense that someone like Julianna Marcon would in turn treat her pen so flippantly? She could lose that thousand-dollar pen at any moment, and she doesn’t care! She probably has ten more!

This is too much. No wonder I need wine and a fan blowing against my flustered skin.

“As much as I would like to gaze into your delightful eyes, Alessa, I’m afraid there are some things we must go over if we are to have a relationship like this, let alone a public one.”

I fold my hands on the table and give her my meeting face. Too bad my coworkers often say it makes me look constipated.

“Absolutely, madam.”

A smile briefly flashes on her visage. Ah, yes, I said madam, which she likes. A lot. Because Julianna Marcon is the kind of woman who takes charge in all areas of her life.

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