Page 1 of The Boss's Forbidden Assistant

CHAPTER ONE

‘YOUUNDERSTANDWHATthis job involves?’

Salvador da Rocha was staring at Harper Lawson with obvious scepticism, his golden-brown eyes glinting with something like cynicism. She knew enough about the man to have come here expecting his trademark arrogance to be on display, but this was next level. She fought the temptation to remind him that he was hardly in the best bargaining position, given his hard-working personal assistant, who had already done a full handover with Harper, was taking a well-deserved two weeks off, leaving Harper alone. He needed Harper, but it was evident he didn’twantto need her.

‘Yes, sir.’

He steepled his fingers beneath his chin, eyes boring into hers. To unnerve her? She wondered if she should save him the trouble and tell him there was nothing he could throw at her that would get under her skin. She’d worked for too many jackasses in her time to be bothered by Salvador—even if he happened to be the head of the company and one of the wealthiest men in the world.

‘Amanda works long days, sometimes seven days straight. If I need to travel, she comes with me at a moment’s notice. She organises my life. Every part of it. I rely on her completely.’

Harper didn’t bat an eyelid—she knew this much from Amanda herself.

‘If you accept this job, for the next two weeks you will exist to serve me. Do you understand that?’

She ignored the strange shiver that ran the length of her spine at his choice of words, his accented voice deep and fascinating.

‘In exchange,’ he continued after a small pause, ‘you will be given a sizeable bonus.’

Harper’s stomach turned over and her fingertips tingled. A ‘sizeable bonus’ was exactly why she’d let Amanda talk her into this. As one of her mother’s oldest friends, Amanda was one of the few people in Harper’s life who understood her personal situation. In fact, it was Amanda who’d pushed Harper to take the job at da Rocha Industries in Chicago two years ago. Because Harper worked hard—harder than almost anyone she knew; she had to. She needed every cent she could earn to pay down her mother’s medical costs, and da Rocha Industries was renowned for its generous remuneration packages.

But this ‘bonus’ was another matter entirely.

‘How sizeable?’ she asked bullishly. It was a question that might have embarrassed some, but for Harper she’d long passed the point of having the luxury of decorum when it came to money. She had to be mercenary in order to survive. Her skills were many and marketable, and by trading on them she intended to give her mother the very best, most comfortable life she could. Unfortunately, round-the-clock care didn’t come cheap.

Salvador’s lips flickered with an emotion she couldn’t understand, but she tilted her chin defiantly, refusing to be ashamed for asking.

‘I think it’s a fair question,’ she murmured. ‘You’re asking me to enslave myself to you for a fortnight and, while I’m more than willing to do so, I would like to know what my compensation will be.’

He turned to his laptop and clicked a couple of buttons. ‘In addition to your regular salary,’ he said, leaving her in no doubt he had her personnel file on screen, ‘you will receive four months’ pay and the associated benefits.’

‘Four months,’ she repeated, doing the mental calculations on a small exhalation.

He turned back to Harper and another shiver ran the length of her spine.

‘That should give you some insight into the level of service I’ll expect.’

She arched her brows. ‘I’m a very hard worker, Mr da Rocha. Surely you’re aware of that?’

‘I can see you have excellent references.’

‘But you’re not sure?’

‘I’m never sure of anyone,’ he responded immediately. ‘My trust is earned.’

‘Then we’re at animpasse,’ she pointed out, her own expression neutral, green eyes slightly narrowed as she regarded him. ‘You need cover for Amanda, and I’m the best option you have.’

‘You’re very confident.’

‘Yes,’ she said with a shrug, the silk of her blouse rippling over her slender body like a waterfall. For a moment, Salvador’s eyes dropped lower, and a little flame of heat flickered in the pit of her stomach. It came without warning and caught Harper by surprise. She tamped it down immediately, refusing to acknowledge the effect someone like Salvador could have on a woman. In this moment, she wasn’t a woman and he wasn’t a man—they would be working together closely for many hours a day, and she’d learned the hard way that it was never a good idea to mix business with pleasure.

‘You understand this is a live-in position?’

For a moment, her eyes flickered beyond Salvador to the view of the lush, tropical rainforest behind him, then to the sparkling South Atlantic that glistened all the way to the white sand beaches of Copacabana, just across the strait.

Ilha do Sonhos, the private island from which the reclusive billionaire lived and worked, was one of the most beautiful places Harper had ever been. As the helicopter had come in over the landing pad, she’d enjoyed the panoramic views of the ocean with the seemingly prehistoric land mass of the island, craggy mountains, rugged cliffs, spiked grasses and enormous, windswept trees creating a lush, green jungle across it. It was wild and almost looked uninhabited, except for this home, all timber and glass, with incredible views in all directions.

‘Yes.’ She brought her gaze back to his and a jolt travelled through her. She’d seen him from a distance before, at a company event in her native Chicago. He’d spoken only to Amanda and the CFO, Alan Bridges, no one else, but there’d been a magnetism about him. She had found it impossible not to look at him, not to study him. It was his strength and charisma, his confidence and intelligence, the ability he had to walk into a room and command it without even bothering to try. Some people were born with that kind of personality, but not many. Salvador da Rocha was a god amongst men. Working with him, even for two weeks, would be a learning curve she would relish.

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