Page 3 of The Boss's Forbidden Assistant

‘That won’t be necessary,’ he said, finally, echoing her movement and standing, eyes latched to hers so she was overly conscious of the beating of her heart. ‘If Amanda put you forward for this role, I’m sure you’ll be fine.’

Fine.

Talk about being damned with faint praise, she thought to herself.

Mentally, she came up with a list of substitutions for ‘fine’—acceptable, average, bearable, okay—and found that, on further analysis, none of them offered any particularly gratifying appraisal.

‘I work long hours,’ he explained unnecessarily. ‘I will not hesitate to call you when I need something.’

‘As you’ve said,’ she agreed with a small nod.

‘While you need to be available to me almost the entire day, I expect my privacy to be respected.’

‘Don’t speak unless spoken to?’ she couldn’t help responding, with an arched brow and a cynical smile.

‘Crude, but accurate.’

Crude or rude, she thought, dipping her head forward to conceal her expression. ‘I have no problems with that,’ she agreed.

‘Then we have a deal, Ms Lawson.’

‘Oh, you should call me Harper,’ she said, as she moved towards the door. He was right behind her, his stride long, his body so close she could feel warmth emanating off him.

Ridiculous, she chided herself. She wasn’t usually prone to that kind of fantasy! He reached past her to open the door, and Harper stepped through it, grateful for some clean air-space.

‘We are not friends, Ms Lawson. When these two weeks are over, we will never see one another again. I see no need to refer to you by your first name, nor for you to use mine.’

It was a direct smack-down. A warning:don’t get familiar, don’t get comfortable.

‘Very well, Mr da Rocha,’ she responded. ‘Would you care to point me in the direction of my office?’

Ten minutes later, she was ensconced in a stunning office with panoramic views of the ocean, state-of-the-art computers and screens, and only one small problem: Salvador’s office was directly next door, separated by a large glass window, so she could see him, and he could see her, the whole time.

There were blinds, she noted, but only on his side, so he could choose when he wanted to close them or open them, leaving the situation entirely in his hands.

A power dynamic she didn’t particularly like, but wasn’t willing to challenge—not for the sake of two weeks.

‘Amanda has brought you up to speed?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. This pile is most urgent. Start on that right away.’

He moved towards the door of her office.

‘The chef provides meals at seven in the morning, one in the afternoon, a snack at four and dinner at eight, but naturally the kitchen is stocked and you are welcome to help yourself to anything you require. I eat alone. A room has been made up for you—the housekeeper, Catarina, will take you to it later today. Catarina is your point of contact for anything domestic. Did Amanda leave you with a list of my contacts?’

‘Of course.’

‘Good.’ His frown deepened. ‘I don’t tolerate mistakes, Ms Lawson. Keep your head in the game and I’m sure the next two weeks will go just fine.’

Adequate, reasonable, acceptable, she thought with a flicker of her lashes.

He left the office, the slight hint of a threat still hanging in the air, so she stared at her computer screen with a sinking feeling in her gut, but only for a moment.

Harper rallied, reminding herself that she wasn’t a wallflower; she wasn’t someone passive to whom life just happened. She grabbed bulls by their horns to make things work in her favour, and that was exactly what she intended to do right now.

So much depended on the next two weeks. While her annual salary was excellent, by the time she paid her mortgage and her mother’s medical expenses, she wasn’t exactly flush. The idea of earning this kind of money, of being able to build a small nest egg just in case, was ultra-appealing.

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