Seduced By My Billionaire Boss (The Billionaire Boss Series, #1) (7 page)

“Miss Jenna Harks?”

My heart pounded even faster. “...yes?”

All at once, a flute of sparkling champagne appeared in the air between us.

“Compliments of Mr. Larchwood.”

I took the glass automatically, but then stared at it in bewilderment. “I’m sorry...what?”

“Along with a message.” The man spoke in a slight British accent. “He wanted me to remind you that he takes his work very seriously and that this is a key component if the two of you want to get anything productive done.”

I stared at the man, then stared at the alcohol, then stared back at the man.

A second later, he took back the glass and walked away without another word.

My instructions from Frank had been to go to the top floor, so I pressed the button for ‘penthouse’ and stood in the back, growing increasingly nervous the more the elevator emptied out. There were finally just two people left—me and man in a suit. I watched him carefully out of the corner of my eye, hoping beyond hope that he’d been summoned to the penthouse as well, but sure enough, he got off on the last possible floor, leaving me to deal with Michael alone.

I had never been inside a penthouse before and didn’t really know what I’d be walking into. Any expectations I might have had were based off something I’d seen on television. But they were all blown out of the water when the doors opened, and I stepped inside.

It was like walking into a painting. A shrine to leisure living with an extra billion or so dollars thrown on top.

The walls had been painted a light gold, just faint enough so as not to be blinding, while still giving the room a celestial glow. Pieces of furniture—all in shades of either ivory or black—were scattered strategically around the room to give it a ‘lived in’ feel while simultaneously looking both extremely untouchable and making the most of the space. There was a fully-stocked bar in the corner, just in front of the floor to ceiling windows beyond, and a large winding staircase led to what was presumably an even more exclusive second story.

My eyes were still fixed on the staircase when a naked woman began walking down.

I whirled around in shock, clapping my hands over my mouth and averting my gaze all in the same motion. She had been completely unfazed by my presence, trailing her hand along the banister as she walked her rail thin figure to the kitchen.

“Hello,” she said comfortably.

I stayed turned deliberately the other way, wondering what sort of male fantasy I’d accidently wandered into. “Um, hi. I’m sorry—I didn’t know anyone else was home.”

She shrugged in my periphery and poured herself a glass of orange juice. “It’s no problem. Michael is upstairs waiting for you. I think he’s just finishing up a shower.”

My breath caught in my chest, and for a split second, I panicked. What were the two of them expecting?! Why had I been brought here?!

Then a male voice called something unintelligible from upstairs. She yelled back something in Russian and flashed me a quick smile before slipping into a dress she picked up off the floor.

“Well, it was nice meeting you.” She took my hand before I realized what was happening and shook it firmly in her own. “Best of luck with the merger.”

I blushed furiously, trying to collect myself. “Oh, uh, thank you. It was nice meeting you as well.”

She snatched a purse off a mirrored credenza and flashed me another rather mischievous smile as she stepped into the elevator. “You can go upstairs, you know. He doesn’t bite...hard.”

Thankfully, the doors closed before she could see my expression.

“Jenna? Is that you?” the same voice called down the stairs. I could hear the sound of water splashing about, and his voice carried a little echo.

Determined to ignore him, I set my briefcase firmly on a coffee table and began spreading out my papers, settling onto the accompanying sofa with a sigh.

“You take a shower yet?”

I gritted my teeth and ignored him yet again, organizing the market reports by year.

“...open invitation...”

It was incredible how seductive he could make his voice while still shouting down the stairs. I continued to ignore him, until eventually, the water turned off. A few minutes later, he headed down the stairs, still wrapped in a towel.

“Oh, hello.” He pretended to be surprised to see me. “You find the place okay?”

I reined in my temper, refusing to look at his glistening chest. “Michael, I really need to you pull it together today. There’s a lot riding on this, and not just for me. Okay?”

“Absolutely.”

“No shenanigans?”

He saluted. “No shenanigans.”

There was a pause.

“Who was the naked woman on your stairs?”

“That’s Tatiana.” He smiled suggestively. “I hope you two got acquainted.”

“Are you serious right now?!”

“How dare you!” He looked affronted. “She’s my yoga instructor. My lovely, eastern European yoga instructor.”

I shook my head sarcastically, fixing my eyes on the table. “My mistake.”

“How dare you make assumptions about us?”

“It won’t happen again.”

“You know what happens when you make assumptions? You’re a bitch.”

“That’s not how the saying goes.”

He cocked his head. “There’s a saying?”

A tiny grin broke through my mask, and I lifted my eyes to the wall. “Why do you live in a hotel?”

“Easy.” He flopped onto the couch next to me. “I don’t know how to cook.”

“You don’t know how to cook,” I repeated, as I absorbed this. “So you stay here to get room service every day?”

“Yes, Jenna. It’s actually quite practical when you think about it like that.”

“Yeah, that’s how I’d describe this place.” I laughed as I glanced around. “Practical.”

His eyes sparkled as they fixed onto mine. I could feel the heat still rising off his body, and I edged an inch or two away, holding up a spreadsheet in between us.

“So, let’s start at the beginning...” he said intently. “You needed my help.”

“
I
don’t need your help—the
company
needs your help.”

He nodded matter-a-factly. “Like I said, you need me.”

I dropped the spreadsheet on the table in frustration. If we were in crunch time, why the hell had Patti sent me to Michael of all people? Yeah, the guy had a brain, but he refused to use it. He preferred to use...other parts. And now here I was, sitting on the sofa, an entire merger to write, trying to keep my eyes off his ripped abs. It wasn’t fair!

“Michael, seriously. I have no idea how we’re going to get this done today—”

“Careful,” he grinned, “I’m prone to panic.”

“I’m being serious! Can you please just—”

“What? What do you want me to do? You called, so I cleared my whole schedule and rushed through my morning routine just to work with you. What more do you want?”

Tatiana was part of his morning routine?

I pursed my lips. “I’d like you to put some pants on.”

He scoffed but got obligingly to his feet, heading to a room across the hall. “You didn’t take the champagne, did you?”

I made a weird sound that was half sigh, half hiss.

He nodded. “That’s what I thought. And here I thought you were fully committed to this merger.”

“Michael, I swear to the heavens, if you don’t—”

“I think we should bypass Shanghai all together and begin with a rundown of the eastern Hong Kong division.”

I paused with my hand half raised in the air. Had he just...? I stared hastily down at my document summary and instantly saw the flash of genius in the plan. It would appease the more conservative board members on both sides while kicking off negotiations with a strong showing of profits for all quarters. It would also cut our work time down by about a third.

“So?”

I raised my eyes and stared at him in amazement. Then he dropped his towel.

“What do you think?”

“
Michael
!”

“Of the IDEA, you little pervert! God—avert your eyes,
please
!”

Before I knew what I was doing, I was storming upstairs, leaving him hastily pulling on his pants.

“Where—where are you going?” he called up.

In truth, I didn’t know. He had invaded so much of my personal space, pushed past the boundaries to make me blush so many times; I felt the need to reciprocate.

I bounded up the last step and raced through the first open door I could find. It happened to be his bedroom. I heard him coming up the stairs which meant I didn’t have much time. After slamming the door, I became a breathless flurry of emotion—opening drawers, grabbing armfuls of things, moving faster than I think I had in my entire life.

The door flew open again just as I was disappearing into the adjoining bathroom. I only saw a split second glance of his shocked face before I locked the door between us.

“Jenna...” He was breathless and stunned. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Without saying a word, I started up the bath. A second later, there was a quick pounding on the door.

“I’m serious, Jenna—get out of there!”

“Oh, you’re
serious
?” I called sarcastically. “You’re
serious
now?!”

There was a noisy splash and the pounding instantly stopped.

“...what are you doing?”

Another splash.

“Jenna—what are you doing?”

I smirked. “Just dropping your shoes in the tub. I hope it doesn’t ruin them,” I held one up for examination, “they look pretty expensive...”

Dead silence.

“Are you fucking with me?”

Another splash.

“Jenna—stop. Let me in!”

“The thing is, Mikey, you don’t seem to have any problem invading other people’s personal space, messing with their lives... So why not return the favor?”

Another splash and the pounding resumed.

“I can’t believe this! You are being so childish right now—let me in!”

“How do you pronounce this? Armany? Armanii? Oh well, doesn’t matter.”

Splash
.

There was a combination of laughter and swearing, followed by a muted thud as he leaned his head against the door. “I’m sorry—okay? Is that what you want? I’m sorry.”

“You’re not going to send down any more Russian strippers to freak me out?”

“Tatiana is not a stripper. She happens to be a very talented—”

Splash.

“Okay, okay!” he conceded. “No more Russians.”

“And your pants?”

“What about them?”

I dangled a shoe precariously over the tub. “You’re going to leave them on?”

He sighed. “If that’s what you wish.”

“It is.”

“Then fine... Although I have to say, we would have made a great—”

SPLASH!

“Jenna, please!” He laughed. “I promise, okay? Open the door!”

I did open it. With my toe.

He was wearing an expression of both extreme amusement and bewilderment. The whole room seemed to pause. We stared at each other for a long time, a
very
long time, before his eyes finally wandered past me to the tub.

“You actually did it,” he said mildly, raising his eyebrows as he gazed inside. “You actually drowned my shoe collection.”

“Not all of them,” I admitted, standing guiltily in the center of the pile. “The ones that you wore to the royal coronation I decided to spare.”

He grinned and began slowly fishing them out. “That was sporting of you.”

I nodded graciously and headed downstairs. “So I’m going to start working on Hong Kong. You coming?”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he called. “I’m just going to put on a shirt...”

*   *   *

T
he rest of the day passed more or less without incident. It was like a switch had been flipped. Michael was still flirty—I think he was just naturally built that way—but there was nothing behind it. In fact, it was a fun way to pass the time—trading insults, jokes, and jabs as we flew through a daunting amount of paperwork in an incredibly short amount of time.

Despite his every effort to avoid work while at the office, I had to admit I was wrong when I said that Michael didn’t strike me as a businessman before. He had an absolutely brilliant mind. Whenever we ran into an impasse or some sort of problem neither side could agree upon, he would get up and pace, and a second later, sit back down with the perfect solution. Much as I hated to say it—he was both an invaluable help and wonderful company at the same time.

Of course, I credited myself with this. Shoes in the bathtub. Worked every time.

“Jen, you want some iced tea or something?” he called from the kitchen.

We were about a third of the way through the first draft and hadn’t gotten up for hours.

“That actually sounds great—thanks!” I called back, typing away as fast as my fingers would let me. “Hey, what do you think of Zhang’s idea to cut the first round of samples?”

He set two glasses down on the table and settled back on the couch beside me. “I think Zhang’s a greedy little bastard, and he and his samples can go fuck themselves.”

“Agreed,” I nodded, typing even faster.

His phone buzzed, and he started texting, waiting for me to finish.

“Who’s that?” I teased. “Your
other
yoga instructor?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” It buzzed in again, and he slipped it back in his pocket. “Hey, so let me ask you a question. You live and breathe for this stuff, right?”

I glanced up for a second, cautious with his new, serious tone. “Yeah...why?”

He shrugged casually. “Just wondering. So that doesn’t leave much time then for relationships, yeah?”

I sat up straighter. “Michael—”

He held up his hands. “I’m just asking, I swear.”

I eased the computer onto his lap and took a sip of tea as I considered the question. The answer was simple: No. No, it didn’t leave any time for them. But that was to be expected, right? You could only have one or the other—career or relationship. You couldn’t have both.

“I guess not,” I finally admitted. “I mean, I dated a couple of guys casually throughout college and in business school... But since I started my internship, I’ve just been really focused on the work side of things, you know?”