Boss Daddy: A Virgin CEO Office Romance by Zoey Oliver & Jess Bentley

Author:Zoey Oliver & Jess Bentley [Oliver, Zoey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-18T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

The phone in our room began ringing at seven AM, earlier than either of us planned to rise.

Ian Ion was on the line, and he explained that he’d been at the studio since dawn trying to reach me. He wanted some one-on-one time with me, without the distraction of record company execs, musicians, or other artists to get in the way. He wanted my “pure” sound.

Travis had warned me that part of Ian’s genius was a healthy dose of eccentricities, such as working all hours, going days on end without sleep when the muse struck, and subsisting on bizarre diets such as going a week or more eating nothing but Skittles, followed by several days of only celery and popcorn.

But, at the end of the day, he was the best in the business, and Travis assured me that Ian Ion could do things with and to my voice that nobody else could.

Ian told me he had a car waiting outside for me, to get to the studio as soon as possible.

After brushing my teeth and throwing on a casual outfit, I knocked on Robert’s door, since I knew he’d be awake; where we come from, the farmers are up long before the sun rises.

I gasped when he answered.

As was his custom, he’d risen early and eaten a light breakfast. After finishing an exercise routine of pushups and sit-ups that went back to his days as a Marine, he’d taken a shower.

He was glistening, wearing only a towel, the muscles in his arms and chest rippling from the recent workout. His towel was slung low beneath his flat stomach, and he held it closed at his side.

He clearly wasn’t expecting me at such an early hour, and I’m not sure who blushed harder, him or I.

My heart raced and I lowered my gaze, pausing briefly on the bulge pressing against the towel.

“I’m really sorry. I just wanted to tell you that they wanted me at the studio early, well, the producer does. Ian. He sent a car over for me. I didn’t mean to catch you in the shower, I…” I was rambling nervously, and to me, my voice sounded like a child’s.

“It’s no problem, Liane, just let me get dressed and I’ll run you over there,” he replied.

“I didn’t mean for you to have to take me, I just wanted to keep you in the loop, it’s okay, honestly.”

“I made a promise to your father, and I’d be less than a man to break my word already. Go on down to the lobby and get yourself something to eat or some juice, I’ll be right down. And I’ll bring my book and read, I won’t be any bother, you just do your thing.”

“Less than a man” was the last thing Robert Cavanaugh could ever be. He was all man; distilled, intoxicating masculinity.

My eyes slowly drank him in from the floor to his face, and I bit my bottom lip and nodded my head. There was the strangest electricity between

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