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Authors: Cara North

BOOK: Personal Assistant
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She
was practically eye level with his crotch. If he wanted her to speak in
coherent sentences he really needed to wear different jeans.

       
“I’m
only going to say this once.” He squatted to be eye level with her.

       
He
reached out and took her hands in his. Frankie was on the verge of swooning,
but she kept repeating the words ‘get it together’ in her head. The warmth of
his fingers transferred to the chill of hers. She could almost hear her
thoughts over the pulse of her heart thrumming in her ears, beating against her
ribcage, drowning out everything but the desire to speak. Time moved in slow
motion as she breathed in the warm, clean scent of him. His eyes looked at hers
and held.

       
“Francesca
MacBeth
, will you be my personal assistant?” He bit
his lower lip. He was a flirt, no two ways about it. A funny guy with charm to
spare one reporter had noted in an article she recently read. Here he was, in a
proposal situation, not asking marriage, though asking her of anything was more
than she dared but dream before.

       
She
blurted, “Get it together.”

       
His
expression puzzled. His eyebrows raised in surprise. She wanted to take it
back. It wasn’t what she wanted to say. She was blowing it. An opportunity of a
lifetime, wasn’t that what she was being offered?

       
His
expression sobered. He nodded. He let go of her hands as he stood up. “See,
that is exactly why I need you, Francesca. You don’t hold back. You cut right
through my bullshit and say what you mean.”

       
Good
grief the man thought her words were meant for him. Somewhere inside she knew
she had to reign in her unbridled lust for this man and put on her game face or
she would ruin her chance to…just be around him. “Frankie. Please, call me
Frankie.”

       
“So,
Frankie, you
wanna
grab some lunch and hash out the
details?” He quirked an eyebrow and smiled.

       
“Yes.”
It was the only word she could say. Hell, she was having enough trouble
remembering her own name. Hopefully, she would get past being star struck
quickly.

       
“Good,”
he said. “I’ll just grab Lea.”

       
He
was out of the room in a few steps. The moment the door closed, Frankie let her
bones melt against the couch. She took several fortifying breaths and fought
the urge to text Shay. No doubt Shay would tell everyone in ear shot before
Frankie even put ink to paper on the contract. How was she going to handle
Shay? The thought helped to take the anxiety off of her current dilemma, how
was she going to handle Jonas?

Chapter Two

       
Frankie
pressed her fingers deep against the cramp in her side.

       
“Ishmael!”

       
She
called out to the German
Shepherd
determined to get
every bit of his exercise in today. Jonas had left her a message that said
Ish
was a good boy. He loved the dog park and would be fine
off leash to play with other dogs and fetch his tennis ball. The regular dog
walker was out for a week and her first assignment was to fill the bill or find
someone else to. Uncertain of how to find a dog walker for a Hollywood star,
she showed up to handle the task herself.

       
As
she tried to catch her breath, Frankie wondered how hard it would be to get
that guy from television to teach her how to be dominant assertive, or whatever
it was called. “
Ish
, be a good boy. Come on Ishmael.”

       
He
ran towards her with enthusiasm, his ball held firmly between his teeth. Much
like his human master,
Ish
was a flirt. He came
running all giddy and happy towards her, making her think it was going to be
easy, and right when he was close enough to touch he ran off again. Frankie
chased after him and almost caught him. She was not giving up. She ran through
the pain of the stitch in her side building up again. She chased Ishmael all
the way around the entire length of the square, fenced in, “private,” as in
reserved for the gated community, dog park until he came to a complete stop in
front of Jonas. Frankie stopped running, stopped calling his name. She grabbed
her side and walked towards them. Of all the pictures in her mind of the way
she would look the second time Jonas Gunner laid eyes on her, this was not it.

       
“Drop
it,” Jonas said simply and
Ish
opened his mouth and
dropped the slobbery ball.

       
Frankie
wanted to strangle the dog. She wanted to lie down. She needed a drink of water
and maybe a towel, because she was drenched with sweat. Jonas had returned
early. He was not supposed to be home until later, and then he was scheduled
for a nap before the award show and the after parties. Jonas looked her over
with those clear, disarming blue eyes of his. Frankie was conscious of every
drip of sweat sliding down her face, her back, the crack of her ass.

       
“I
didn’t know you were a runner. I would have changed my schedule around. The
three of us could have gone for a jog instead.” Jonas looked away from her and
patted his dog on the head.

       
Frankie
took the moment to pinch her side again. She gasped for breath and resumed the
smile when he looked at her. She was dying. Her lungs were on fire, her side felt
like someone was pinching her, and it throbbed in pain with each spasm.

       
“Yeah,”
she lied. “I’m just getting back into it you know, so running behind
Ish
here is fine. I would hate to slow you both down.”

       
He
looked at her and she knew before he said anything that he was going to make a
comment she could tuck away and use later that night in her dreams. A
consummate flirt, another
tid
-bit of information she
had read about him.

       
“I
can go
slow
.” He let his gaze travel over her. “I can
go as slow as you need me to.”

       
She
knew one thing for sure, he liked her quick wit. She could not accept his
flirtations as genuine, especially as she stood there with sweat dripping out
of every pore of her body. Instead, she quipped, “Good to know. Now, how did
the meeting go? Do I need to get anything prepared for this weekend?”

       
He
held out his hand and she passed him the leash.
Ish
would not be seeing freedom on another walk until she knew exactly how to
manage him. Frankie stood up straight and pulled her phone out of the hidden
pocket in her tank top. It was meant for a portable music device, but her phone
fit just fine and she did need to keep it on her at all times. That was in the
agreement. She worked five days a week from ten to seven, but she was on call
twenty-four hours, seven days a week, including holidays. He watched her pull
out the phone and then had a laugh at her expense.

       
“You
crack me up,” he said.

       
She
wanted to crack him in the head for laughing at her. She would not look at him.
He would not get the pleasure of seeing her face while making fun of her for
doing her job. “Do you need to change anything on the schedule today?”

       
He
stopped laughing. “No.”

       
“Good.
I’ll head home now and grab a shower. I’ll be at your place…”

       
“Yes,”
he said. “I do need to change something. I forgot about lunch with a friend of
mine. I need you to make reservations for us at…somewhere good. Oh, and low
key. You can meet me back at my house in two hours, okay?”

       
She
put on her best fake smile and said, “But you have…”

       
“No
buts.” He held up his hand.

       
“Yes, sir.”

       
His
brow furrowed a moment, he relaxed his expression and coolly responded with, “I
think I like the sound of that.”

       
Frankie
could feel the strain on her jaws as her teeth clenched to keep her mouth shut.
He was baiting her. That much she was certain of. He would not win. She was
going to do this job because he was more than generous with her salary. She
could assist the fantasy man of her dreams, though the real man was quickly
becoming her waking nightmare, for a year, and then head off to Europe for a
while with a nice cushioned bank account.

       
“Okay,
I will see you at eleven and send you the details via text in less than an
hour.” She looked up at him just as a cloud moved and the sun shone down
causing her to squint. Her glasses were already slippery. She had to remember
to put in her contacts. The squint caused a drop of sweat to get in her eye and
she opened and closed it with effort to erase the sting.

       
“Is
that code?” He bit his lower lip in that telling way he had right before
leading in to a clever quip.

       
“Is
what code?” She wanted to take her glasses off and scrub her eye but she was
trying to get this conversation over with and home to a nice cool shower.

       
“You’re
winking at me. Are you flirting with me, Lady
MacBeth
?”
He winked at her. If her face was not already red enough from the running, it
would have been pink from blushing. He smiled that killer smile. “I don’t
remember that being part of the agreement.”

       
“I
have sweat dripping into my eye and the sun is blinding me. I am not flirting
with you, sir. I am losing time with every minute we stand here.” Frankie
huffed.  “And just so you know, I am aware I’m…was… a lit professor with
the last name
MacBeth
, the reference…so played.”

       
“Indeed.”
He looked off towards the dog park. She had wounded his ego, his pride,
something she was sure because he pouted.

       
She
took in the sight of his profile, his strong jaw, the stubble from a few days
of not shaving. He was damn sexy regardless. Brooding, playful, every one of
his moods looked good on him.

       
“Come
on
Ish
, we know when we have overstayed our welcome.”
He started off with the dog.

       
“Sir,”
she called after him. “I work for you. How can you overstay your welcome? I’m
just trying to do what you asked me to do in the time constraints you asked me
to do it.”

       
Frankie
wanted to tell him he was a spoiled brat and she was not about to put up with
his moods, but that would only get her fired, so she decided to do her job and
bend to his will. She was high-stepping it to get to him and his sudden stop
caused her to slam flat into his chest as he spun to say something.

       
She
bounced off his strong, lean, body and took a hasty step backwards. His hand
grabbed her by the upper arm and held her steady. “Jesus, Frankie.”

       
Her
legs turned to noodles as she became ultimately aware of him, his scent, and
his grasp on her arm. His strength radiated. She took a step back and he let
her go. If she could smell him this close, he was bound to smell her.
Certainly, she was not in prime condition to be this close to anyone. “I’ll
have everything ready and on time, sir.”

 

***

 

       
There
she went.
Francesca
MacBeth
running
towards her car.
He pushed his hand through his hair and looked down at
Ishmael. “Well,
Ish
, what do you think?”

       
The
dog barked while he wagged his tail.

       
“Yeah,
well, you like everyone.” Jonas smiled. He couldn’t quite put a finger on what
it was about her that made his blood rush faster, his mind work quicker, and
his body, hell he had been abusing himself non-stop since the interview. He
would have given her anything to take the job. Now, he needed to figure out how
to slowly transition what he felt from being her boss to…he didn’t know what he
wanted from her. Well, he knew a few things he wanted from her. He opened the
door to his Jeep and let
Ish
inside. He drove home
wondering where she would choose to have lunch. Additionally, he had to find
someone to meet him there so she could set up the final details.

       
She
arrived ten minutes early, as he knew she would. Frankie was dressed in that
same business casual attire that reminded him of her previous position.
Unfortunately, it also reminded him of the many other positions he wanted her
to be in. The glasses and bun only brought to mind fantasies of a smart woman
standing in panties and a bra with a ruler in hand.

       
“Do
you own a pair of jeans, Frankie?” He knew it was an inappropriate question,
but he could not stop saying inappropriate things around her. Sure, he was
known as a flirt, but with every other woman it had always been flirting for
sport. With Frankie, he was flirting for real. He tossed out a line and hoped
she would bite. He would do whatever it took to reel her in. Once, twice, he
would be satisfied once he had her. He could let her do her job then. He was
almost certain he could just sex it right out of his system.

       
“Several.
May I ask why? Am I overdressed for lunch?” She looked genuinely worried about
it.

       
“I
thought about going hiking sometime…soon. And since I would need you to go with
me, I wanted to make sure you had something else to wear.” He made it all up
instantly. Her brown eyes, the darkest he had ever seen, studied him. He
thought she may be on to his game.

       
“Sir,
where would you go hiking?” she asked.

       
His
cock responded every single time she addressed him that way. He didn’t know
why. It wasn’t like she was the first person to call him sir, but normally he
would correct the person and say, ‘that’s what people call my dad, call me
Jonas, call me Gunner, call me anything but sir.’ For some odd and incomprehensible
reason he liked when she said it. He liked the way her lips moved as she formed
the word. He liked the sound of her voice. He liked that in some way she was
his to do with as he pleased. Unfortunately, he could not do all the things he
wanted to do, so he would find other ways of occupying her time until he found
a loophole, and then he would occupy her body.

       
“Joshua Tree National Park.
I’ve gone there a few times, but
I want to go alone this time. Well, I’d be bringing you along for safety purposes,
but you get what I’m saying. You should look at my schedule and work out a time
for me…
us
to go camping and pencil
that in.” He barely got what he was saying out since he was still making it all
up on the fly. He wanted to go somewhere secluded, get her out of her element,
and see what happened.

       
Frankie
nodded slowly then looked at her watch. “We better get going if we want to be
on time.”

       
“Unless
it’s work, I am rarely on time for anything.” He grabbed his keys and followed
behind her. He watched the sway of her ass as she walked. Frankie wasn’t
skinny, she wasn’t fat, but she sure wasn’t skinny. She was voluptuous, round
in all the right places. Her hourglass figure did nothing to abate his lust. If
anything it made him harder. A quick adjustment as they walked out the door was
needed. “Where are you going?”

       
“You
want to be discrete, have a private lunch with a friend. The moment that beast,
she pointed to the luxury SUV, hits the street paparazzi will be looking for
you.” She walked to her non-descript black four door sedan and opened the
passenger side door. It creaked on the hinges. He was sure it had to be at
least ten years old.

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