The Boss Vol. 4: a Hot Billionaire Romance by Cari Quinn & Taryn Elliott

Author:Cari Quinn & Taryn Elliott [Quinn, Cari]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Rainbow Rage Publishing
Published: 2016-01-07T16:00:00+00:00

Four

I expected her to leave. Any other woman would have, probably while throwing a few pieces of expensive statuary at my head. I wouldn’t have blamed her either. I’d been cruel, moments after she’d cried over her grandmother.

What kind of man was I?

Oh, that’s right. I was a blood-thirsty, heartless, ruthless bastard from the streets who’d fought and clawed my way out of them. I wasn’t going to forget my roots and play the role of Grace’s white knight. Not now, not ever. I might delude myself when I needed to come that she belonged to me. That when I had a gun in my hand and her behind me that I would die to keep her safe. But in the light of day, she was just a woman, and I was just a man surrounded by the scattered pieces of a family who barely even acknowledged me and a company that I’d sacrificed everything for to create. I wouldn’t be diverted again.

When she came downstairs around lunchtime in just a short silky robe with her hair loose and wet from the shower—apparently she enjoyed bathing more than once a day—I didn’t even look away from the financial reports scrolling on the TV. She’d probably come to tell me she was leaving, and I had no intention of reacting one way or another. She was free to go. I was having my security people head to the Marblehead house today to fit the property with a state-of-the-art system, so beyond gathering the rest of her things, she wouldn’t be in danger since she would no longer have free lodging there. Her days of sneaking onto the property were over. As difficult as it was, she needed to let go of the past.

So did I.

But she wasn’t about to be ignored. She sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, her bare legs bumping mine either by accident or by design. Then she leaned backward on her hands, the movement enough to make her robe gape. One glance was all it took for me to glimpse the side of her pale full breast, pressed tight to the fabric. Goddamn her.

“I want my job back.”

My fingers tightened around my pencil. I’d resumed studying the figures on the legal pad in my lap rather than ogle her taut nipples outlined by her satin kimono, but that statement brought my attention right back to her. Only to realize she was pulling a Basic Instinct Sharon Stone move and wasn’t wearing any fucking panties. She was sitting in front of me, legs spread but not lewdly so, hair swinging, asking for her job back while she was the next thing to naked. Knowing how it would seem and not caring.

She was using her weapons to play me now, and I’d be damned if I fell right in line.

“I fired you.”

“So you did. It wasn’t for cause. You know I’m the best damn assistant you’ll ever have. No one else can work with your cantankerous ass.

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