Page 9 of Miss Taken Identity

But unmarried and twenty as truth is definitely canceling out any other little white lies she’s told to get here.

Twenty though…Christ, she’s half my fucking age!

And twice as sexy, interesting, and definitely twice as bold as anyone you’ve ever met in your life.

I feel my eyes soften on her.

And almost letting the resume slip from my fingers, it’s clear she knows everything. She’s just told me she doesn’t match what’s in my file.

But I don’t call her out on it. I won’t either.

Not yet.

And even when I do, I think it should be in her words.

I’ll let her decide when it’s appropriate to tell me everything.

What a story it must be.

But a name… I need her name at least.

Her real name.

“There’s just one other thing,” I mention, leaning forward and making a face when my pants grip the swollen head of my dick about as tight as I imagine her sweet little pussy to be.

Her eyes widen in question.

“Well, it is a little embarrassing, but HR didn’t give me your first name,” I confess. A short, dry laugh escapes me as she makes an ‘O’ shape with her lips.

We’re both interrupted by a loud rapping knock at the open suite door.

I spin my head to see a waiter with a large silver domed tray in one hand.

There’s a seriously morbid expression on his face like he’s about to be sick. Or worse.

“Mr. Condor is on the phone for you, Mr. Alexander….” His voice breaks, and I can literally hear my mystery girl swallow so hard it drowns out the sound of my own impatience at being interrupted.

I just need a name to put to this feeling…whoever you are.

Clicking my tongue, I motion the lad over, creasing my mouth as he lifts off the stupid silver dome.

Really…just call me on my cell like anybody else.

The thing is, though, Kenneth C. Condor knows me better than most.

He knows that if he has someone come to me with a phone on a tray, I have to pick it up.

“Excuse me,” I murmur to my newest interest, jutting my head toward the door, dismissing the waiter as I press the handset to my ear.

Making my way to the patio before I remember how hot it is outside, I settle for the kitchen area of the oversized suite.

“Mr. Condor,” I answer, knowing the exact reason he’s called. As well as his timing, his regular interruptions always have more than just one purpose.

And despite my own interests so far, I’m immediately convinced that the old bastard has no idea the real Ms. De Laurent hasn’t quite made it as far as her final interview.

“Cut to the chase, Xander,” The old man wheezes hotly, forgetting any and all formality.

“Is she Condor material or not?”

I take a second to answer, making sure my mystery girl can hear me as well as see me as I linger by the breakfast bar dividing the kitchen.

“I think she’s a lot more than her resume says,” I say loud enough for both my boss and her to hear me.

“Definitely potential there…,” I drawl, letting my mind wander to the memory of her breasts as they threatened to spill from her robe earlier.

The way her hair catches the light. The perfect apple shape of her ass. Those child-bearing hips….

There’s more than potential. She’s everything I’ve waited for and more.

Did I mention her child-bearing hips?

Now, if that’s not a future with potential, I dunno what the hell is.

But my boss doesn’t want to hear any of that. Instead, he wants to know if she can be trusted and if she’s the one to steer the Condor ship back into the black.

“I trust your judgment, Kenneth,” I bounce back to him, reminding him it was his idea we hire her after all.

“Where’d you find her anyway?” I murmur, keeping my voice low enough so as not to be overheard.

But really, I’m trying to make the connection.

How did a perfect girl like this end up here pretending to be De Laurent?

“You should know by now, Xander, that I have my ways,” he grumbles, cutting his own butting in short in true Condor style by announcing he has another call and hanging up.

Reminding me it’s all on me if things don’t work out.

I hit end call and shake my head, half-smiling to myself.

If the real Ms. De Laurent were here, I’d feel angry and annoyed by Kenneth’s inflated attitude.

But things aren’t gonna go belly up, not if I have my way.

In fact, if things go my way, I’ll have her belly up sometime soon now, and the whole of Condor Global can kiss my ass from behind as I fill her with what I can tell she needs badly.

I wait for her to say something as I make my way back into the lounge area, setting the phone down on the coffee table.

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