Page 23 of Assistant to the Billionaire CEO

“Hi, Ace.”

No. That didn’t feel right.

“Hey, long time no see?”

Nah, worse.

“Hello, Ace, thanks for inviting me.”

Better, that could work. Maybe a tad more formal. We’d never been “buddies.”

“Good morning, Ace, thank you for inviting me to the interview.”

That was it.

Professional. Perfect. On point.

“Oof,” I grunted. It was like running into a wall, sweaty breasts first. A hint of expensive aftershave hit my nose. Cedar and sandalwood. Invigorating, fresh, and powerful. Before I knew what was happening, my sweaty butt was seated on the hardwood floor, and I was looking up. Luckily, my contacts had survived the collision.

I blinked.

Six-foot-four. Black tie. Impossible jawline. Dimples. Perfectly straight nose. The most kissable lips I had ever seen.

And…piercing icy-blue eyes that seemed to see right through your soul.

My breath hitched.

Ace. Windsor.

The air crackled. Time froze. All I was physically capable of was staring at him, speechless. For the first time in forever, I could not find any words. They were lost.

But they weren’t the only things that were lost.

My big handbag had flown halfway across the hallway, and I’d lost a shoe in the fall too. My dress had definitely ridden up to reveal my legs. Millions of thoughts attacked my brain. The first was: Thank goodness I shaved my legs this morning. I quickly sat up, smiling awkwardly. I adjusted my dress and hooked my foot back into the stiletto I’d stumbled out of.

Why thefreakinghell was he even hotter in person?

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to tackle people in hallways?” he rumbled in a deep, stern baritone, and extended his hand toward me. I took it and allowed him to help me up. I was dumbstruck by how effortlessly he lifted me, as if I weighed less than a feather.

Ace nonchalantly strolled over to my handbag, picked it up, and returned to my side.

“Oh, my gosh,” I blurted, finally finding my words. “Well, tackling CEOs is sort of my thing,” I joked.

He didn’t find my comment funny. He raised a stern eyebrow, and for whatever reason, his chiseled jaw looked even more herculean. “So, you decided to go all in?”

“Well, of course, since I was a little late,” I continued, “I wanted to make up for it with a well-planned collision, head-on, you know, with the full intention to leave a lasting first impression.” I smiled at him. I mean, at this point, I had nothing to lose.

“Well, it’s not a first impression,” he grumbled, not smiling back and not acknowledging my attempts at humor—jerk, that’s what he was. He ran his hand through his blond hair, causing it to momentarily obscure his eyes in the sexiest way. “We’ve met before, although I think I last saw you when I was in college.” He handed me my bag.

“That’s right.” I took the bag, refusing to get into any college-related memories, at the same time, unable to stop myself from staring at him.

He was taller than I remembered, and bigger, and more vigorous. The photos on the Internet hadn’t even come close to his larger- and mightier-than-life persona. He was breathtakingly gorgeous. His well-muscled arms could barely be contained by the thin white cotton shirt he was wearing. I imagined the buttons across his chest beneath his tie were likely pulled taut by his bulging tattooed pecs. He had always been athletic, but now he looked formidable.

“I’m surprised you remember me,” I said.

“How could I forget?” he rumbled, his piercing eyes connecting with mine.

A tingling I’d never felt before washed over me. Was he flirting with me?No way.Blood rushed to my cheeks, and my heart pounded against my ribcage like a wild animal trying to escape. Each breath I took made me more aware of the fact that I was tingling all over.What’s happening to me?Panic started setting in.He’s going to notice something’s wrong with me.

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