Page 39 of The Boss's Forbidden Assistant

‘He lives here now.’

‘Did you see him at all, while you were here?’

‘No.’

‘Not this afternoon?’

‘He’s not really the kind of guy you take lingerie shopping,’ Salvador pointed out with a wry half-smile.

Her nipples tingled against the silk of her bra and she reached for her champagne, taking a sip quickly. But Salvador’s eyes had fallen to her breasts, to the obvious physical response, his smile not so much wry now as resigned.

Her heart leaped into her throat.

‘You’re not really the kind of guy I’d imagine lingerie shopping either,’ she said with a lift of her shoulders.

‘There’s a first time for everything.’

Her heart stammered. Was that true? Was this really the first time he’d bought lingerie for a woman? Of course not. She focussed on the table between them, trying to steady her breath.

‘Usually I have an assistant who can arrange all sorts of things for me,’ he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. But there was something underneath it, a tension. She felt it even when he was trying so hard to cover it up. ‘But that would have ruined the surprise a little.’

Of course. Amanda would ordinarily have been dispatched to buy things for his girlfriends, and then his wife. To research the best bars and restaurants in whatever city Salvador happened to be in and grease the wheels for him. But, because he was now sleeping with his assistant, he’d had to be a little innovative.

Harper felt the ground shift beneath her, the reality of what she’d allowed to happen slamming into her like a freight train all of a sudden. Everything had seemed so simple, predetermined almost, but the reality was she was walking the exact same path she’d walked with Peter.

It was different in many ways, but the same in one very important particular: she was sleeping with her boss.

The last time had been excruciating. But not because of the relationship, she reminded herself quickly. It wasn’t the fact they’d been seeing each other that had caused Harper to quit without notice. It was the fact he’d drafted her into the role of mistress without so much as giving her a single clue that he was married. In fact, he’d gone out of his way to conceal it, never once mentioning the family he’d had across the river.

If she’d been so easily fooled by Peter, with whom she’d worked closely formonths, what might she be missing about Salvador?

‘Are you okay?’ He reached across, hand on hers.

‘Yep, just fine,’ she lied, smiling over-brightly, reaching for her drink and taking a generous gulp. ‘What a lovely view,’ she remarked, the words sounding close enough to genuine as she forced herself to settle back into her seat and look as though she was truly relaxed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

BUTTHETENSIONstayed with her all through their drink and as the car drove them across town to a restaurant that had so many potted plants out the front, it felt a little like walking through a jungle to get inside. Elegant jazz music played, with a pianist in the corner, and a waiter greeted them as soon as they entered. Whereas the night had started with delicious anticipation and pleasure, Harper was aware now of the risks coming at her from every angle.

‘Mr da Rocha, we’ve been expecting you. This way, please.’

Salvador reached down and weaved their fingers together, holding her hand as he led her through the restaurant, to another ‘best’ table by a window that had a view of the greenery outside.

Salvador held out a seat for Harper and, as she took it, his hands brushed her shoulders, and she shivered. It felt so good to be touched by him, so right, but there was an answering darkness, knowing how temporary this was and, she had started to fear, how much more this meant to her than him—and how much more high stakes it was for her. After all, what was the worst that could happen to Salvador if anyone found out about their affair?

There’d be no consequences, no professional splash-back, no water-cooler gossip, no knowing looks when a promotion was announced.Oh, God.

‘Your friend,’ she blurted out, when they were alone.

He arched a brow. ‘Which friend?’

‘The one who helped you organise this.’ She gestured to the restaurant. The waiter returned with menus, asking what drinks they’d like.

Harper frowned. ‘Oh, um, a white wine, I suppose?’

Salvador ordered a bottle after the briefest glance at the wine list, then turned back to Harper. ‘Go on?’

‘When you asked him to arrange this, you didn’t mention me, did you?’

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