Sleeping With My Boss: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (A Dirty Office Romance) (16 page)

“I will.”

“Come. Drink your sake, and we shall call it a night.
We must resume your training at sunrise. I will help you find your focus
again.”

“Thank you, Colonel.”

I sipped the last of my sake, stared up at the stars,
and wondered what the coming weeks would bring.

***

I returned to the office Tuesday morning with a fresh
sense of purpose and a keenly-honed focus. My long weekend in Japan with
Colonel Tanaka had proven to be very beneficial.

Lilah was, of course, still on my mind, but I'd
realized that, as the Colonel had told me, whatever was going to happen between
us was entirely up to her. And if that turned out to be nothing, there was
little I could do but accept that and move on.

Still, that didn't mean I wasn't going to at least try.
I wasn't prepared to simply give up on the idea of her and I together–not just
yet.

I sat down at my desk and began going through my
emails and lists of tasks that would need to be completed. First and foremost,
was the French account. I had a message from Anton about the VIV Perfume
campaign. He was hoping that I could meet him in Paris again and bring
whichever member of my team was going to be heading the campaign.

Naturally, that team member was Lilah. After all, she
had a friend in Paris in the fashion industry whom we had already spoken to. Of
course, now that things had become a bit more complicated between us, informing
her that we’d be going to Paris might be a little awkward. Still, we had to act
like professionals, and she was already deep into the French campaign, so there
was no way I could suddenly pull her out now and replace her with someone else.

The Sinclair Agency had already come perilously close
to losing a good portion of its prestige and respect with the initial failure
of the Harry Winston campaign, and there was no way in hell I was going to risk
repeating something like that. No. I needed to have an extremely talented
person working with me on this particular campaign, and that person was Lilah.

I put a call through to her office, and a slight
shudder of nerves shot through me when I heard her voice as she picked up her
phone.

“Hi, Asher, what can I do for you?” her tone was
professional and no nonsense.

“Could you come to my office, please? There's
something important I need to discuss with you regarding the VIV Perfume
campaign.”

“Sure. I'll be right over.”
A tingle of anxiety immediately began building inside me as I waited for her to
arrive.

“Come on, Asher, be cool, be calm,” I said to myself.
“You've got this. Put your personal feelings aside and be professional.”

I breathed in deeply as I heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I said.

She walked through the door, and I let slowly out the
breath that I'd been holding in through my teeth. She was wearing a pencil
skirt and a form-fitting blouse that revealed her curves in a tantalizing
manner; I could hardly keep my eyes off her. Still, I forced myself to remain
cool, and put on an air of calm indifference.

“Have a seat,” I said.

She walked over to my desk, swaying her hips subtly as
she did without effort, and took a seat.

“You're fully committed to the VIV campaign, aren't
you?” I asked.

“Absolutely. That’s why you put me on point. I've been
doing a lot of research and have put together a few ideas that I think could
work really well.”

“Excellent. Well, there's no better place to do
research than on the ground, right?”

“That's true, but we're a few thousand miles away from
the ground at the moment.”

“Yes, we are. However, tonight you're going to need to
go home and haul out a suitcase or three.”

“Why is that?” she asked, a curious eyebrow raised.

“You and I are going to Paris.”

CHAPTER 20

Lilah

I sat in stunned silence for a while and stared at
Asher.

“We're going to Paris?” I eventually said.

“Yes,” he replied, with the slightest and subtlest of
smiles curving across his lips.

“I, uh, can I think about it?”

“Well, Anton has requested an urgent meeting with
myself and the second-in-command of this campaign–which is you. So, unless
you're willing to relinquish that position, it'd be best if you came along to
Paris.”

I nodded. “All right then. I guess I’m packing for
Paris.”

“Don't worry,” he added hastily, looking suddenly
uncomfortable, “we'll be in separate hotel rooms.”

“Okay. When do we leave?”

“Friday morning before sunrise, so make it an early
night on Thursday. I’ll have a car pick you up from your place and take you to
my private jet. There won't be any airport lines or any of that stuff to worry
about.”

I couldn't help but feel a sudden rush of excitement.
Not only at going to Paris unexpectedly, but at the thought of being flown
there on a private jet, even if it was with a man I was trying to force myself
to keep my distance from. Of course, there was the simmering attraction I still
felt toward him, and the tantalizingly pleasurable memories that still popped
into my head—uninvited—of the night we'd spent together; memories I was
currently trying to push back.

“Lilah?”

I snapped out of the sudden trance I'd fallen into.
“Oh, sorry, I just drifted off for a second. I, umm…was thinking about
everything I need to get done before Friday,” I stammered, hoping he didn’t see
through my lie.

“No worries. Needless to say, you'll probably have to
shift up a gear today and tomorrow. I expect all your tasks for the week to be
complete before we leave for Paris. If you need to delegate some of the less
significant ones to Jason, I think he’s up to the task.”

“Got it. Is there anything else?”

“That's all. We'll talk closer to the time, but
obviously, make sure you bring your notebook, hard drive, and any relevant
files with you.”

“Of course, I have everything backed up to the cloud, anyway.”

“Great. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

He turned away from me and started typing, staring
coolly at his computer, and I walked out of the room feeling a strange mix of
emotions swirling around my head.

***

“I think we're a lot clearer on Anton's aims for this
campaign now,” said Asher to me as we sat in the back of the limo he'd hired
for the weekend to transport us around Paris.

“Yes, I'm glad we came. Being on the ground here and
taking everything in–and, of course, speaking to the executives at VIV–has
definitely helped reshape a number of ideas I've had about the campaign.”

“Likewise. Well, we're done with work for the day. If
you'd like, I can drop you off to meet Alicia and have the driver on call to
pick you up and take you back to the hotel whenever you're done.”

It was strange, watching him act so cool and distant.
I suppose it was exactly what I'd asked for, though, even if deep down it
wasn't really what I wanted. Still, I had no right to complain about it. I'd
said that we had to but business and professionalism first, and he was honoring
my wishes.

Regardless of what I’d said, I still felt an
unyielding attraction to him. And beneath his calm exterior, I could tell he
still felt the same for me. It was there in the fire in his eyes every time our
gazes locked, even though it was always brief. However, it seemed that we had
both silently agreed to maintain our strictly professional relationship. As
much as I hated to admit even to myself, I couldn't help but feel a twinge
wounded, a little rejected even, given that we were in the city of romance and
his demeanor hadn’t even broken once.

“Well, what about you? What are you going to do?”

“Me? After I drop you off I'm going to head over to
the hotel gym, get a good two-hour workout in, and hit the sack early. We've
got more meetings tomorrow; I don't think that I need to remind you that we
need to be on point for them.”

I nodded.

“Yeah, that's true. Well, I guess I'll see you
tomorrow, then.”

“Bright and early,” he agreed with a smile. “Ah, and
here we are; this is the restaurant where you're meeting your friend, right?”

I looked out the window and saw her waiting outside
the restaurant for me.

“That's the one.”

“You've got the driver's number, don’t you? Just give
him a call when you're done and he'll come and get you.”

“Thanks, Ash. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said as I
climbed out of the backseat.

“See you then,” he called just as the driver closed the
door and returned to his position behind the steering wheel.

***

After a lovely dinner with Alicia, I’d headed back to
the hotel the night before and crashed. The jetlag had hit me more than I’d
anticipated. But, I slept nine hours straight and thankfully so. My wakeup call
came in precisely at 6 a.m. and the day had been non-stop from there.

In addition to the meetings and presentations, Anton
had managed to squeeze in visits to two museums, in what he said was an effort
to help us understand the essence of Paris. But, when the day was over, we were
back in the limo and Asher was starting to seem more like his old self—less
rigid and businesslike. I had to admit, I was finding it harder and harder to
maintain the cold, distant, and disinterested façade I'd had up over the past
couple of weeks to maintain that distance I was trying so hard to keep.

“Wow. It's been a long day,” I remarked.

“That it has. How are you feeling?”

I could sense that he was asking for reasons beyond
merely small talk. That meant there could be more than just a boring night in
my room or sightseeing alone. It was up to me to decide whether I would shut
things down immediately and return to my hotel room or take a chance and see
what happened. I thought about it for a moment, and then replied.

“Actually, I'm feeling pretty good. Energized. After
all, we're in Paris! It would be a sin to simply go back to the hotel and sleep
now.”

His face lit up with that heart-stopping smile that
sent my stomach into flips. A smile that not only reached his lips, but also
sparkled in his eyes.

“Well, let's do something stereotypical, why don't we?
I mean, it's your first time here,” he said. “Right?”

“It is.”

“All right. Wine and cheese at a small café
overlooking the Seine?”

I couldn't help but smile. “That sounds fantastic.”

Two hours later, we were still sitting at a cozy
outdoor café, taking in the scenery and people watching.

“So, what do you think of Paris?” Asher asked.

“It's everything I'd hoped it would be,” I replied,
sipping on my wine. “And this wine is exquisite. I don't think I've ever had
better.”

“I come for the cheese, but I stay for the wine,”
Asher joked.

I couldn't help but chuckle. The warmth of the wine
flowing through my veins, relaxing my muscles as it went.

“The Eiffel Tower makes for a pretty spectacular
marker on the horizon, doesn't it?” I said.

“It does. We can go visit tomorrow if you’d like. I
know someone who can get us past the crowds. It's quite a view from up top.”

“That sounds lovely,” I smiled at him and suddenly
found myself staring deeply into Asher's eyes. I saw in them a profound,
crackling passion, like the embers of a fire still glowing orange against the
darkness of night. And at the sight of that deep, simmering desire, my own
desires stirred.

It was happening again.

I was at a definite crossroads here; I could either
cut this right now and go back to my hotel room, or I could stay, order another
bottle of wine, and prove to myself that I could maintain a working friendship
with my boss.

“Let's have a little more wine,” I suggested. “The
night is still young.”

“I agree,” replied Asher with a smile.

He called a waiter over and asked him to bring out a
selection of the finest wines in the house, which the young man did, after
returning with the manager of the establishment. We perused them and picked out
a vintage port.

“Are you sure, monsieur?” asked the manager, a portly,
red-faced man in his sixties. “It is a very, very fine wine, but it also
commands a somewhat, how do I say, extreme price tag. There are only a handful
of bottles of this left in all of France.”

“Price is of no concern to me,” Asher assured him with
a casual smile. “After all, how can one put a price on a moment such as this?”

The manager smiled. “Very well, monsieur. Please
though, if you would not mind, could I pose with you and your lovely companion
for a photograph at the moment of the uncorking of the bottle? I am a wine
connoisseur myself, and a bottle like this only gets uncorked once every few
years. I wish to have a memento, if you will.”

Asher smiled. “Of course. And, since wine is your
thing, I would like for you to have a glass as well. As can this nice young
waiter.”

Both the waiter and the manager gasped.

“Monsieur, we could not possibly!” exclaimed the
manager.

“I insist,” Asher said. “Otherwise, we don't uncork
the bottle. Deal?”

“Very well,” the manager agreed, still flabbergasted
at this proposition.

The wine was then uncorked, we posed with the manager
for a photo, and then Asher made good on his word and insisted the manager and
waiter each have a taste of the wine. I half expected the manager to pass out
from the thrill of it.

“This is… It is simply… Magnifique!” he exclaimed.

After that, he and the waiter left Asher and myself to
enjoy the remainder of the wine in peace. To be honest, while it was really
good wine, I wasn't sure that it was the best I'd ever tasted – but then again,
I didn't consider myself to be much of a wine snob. And, more importantly, I
was enjoying Asher's company much more than I was the wine.

We sat and talked, joked and laughed late into the
night, loosening up and becoming more at ease in each other's company as the
night drew on and the wine did its work.

Eventually, the manager came over, wringing his hands
apologetically.

“Monsieur and mademoiselle, while we appreciate your
patronage, I am sorry to say that we need to close up now.”

“That's all right,” Asher said as he finished off the
last of his wine. “I need to stretch my legs anyway. I think a stroll through
Paris is in order.”

He handed the manager his credit card to settle the
bill, and when that was done, we said goodbye and began strolling along the
river, taking in the sights and enjoying the atmosphere.

I slipped my hand through his arm almost instinctively
and felt his fingers intertwine with mine as he squeezed my hand gently.

When we reached a point along our walk that had a
breathtaking view of the Eiffel Tower, I stopped to take it in. My gaze
journeyed along the skyline until I found myself looking into his eyes. Once
more, the electricity of our connection crackled in my veins. His gaze searched
mine, as if seeking permission for something.

“Asher, I…” I opened my mouth to admit what I’d been
feeling in spite of what I’d said, but I didn’t get the chance to tell him. It
was as though he’d already read my heart. Before I could finish, one strong
hand enclosed gently around the base of my neck while the other wrapped around
my waist. He pulled me in close and placed his lips passionately against mine.
The sensation of his hands moving across my back gently, yet with power
tingling in those strong arms and hands of his, sent a wave of want through me.

I could
feel
his longing, his intense
need
for control, and it made me go weak at the knees. My breath quickened and my
pulse began to race.

I could hardly breathe.

He paused from the kiss for a moment and stared down
at me.

“Let's go back to the hotel,” I said, panting and
gasping.

“No,” he replied.

“No?”

“No.”

“But…but why?”

“There's a beautiful hotel around the corner, and I
don’t want to wait for the thirty minutes a cab ride back to our hotel is going
to take. I want you
now
. I need you
now
.”

I smiled up at him. There was no need to say anything.

We hurried across the street where Asher stopped at an
ATM and withdrew a hefty sum of cash. We then proceeded to a grandiose, old
building, shining spectacularly against the night sky with lighting that
illuminated the baroque architecture.

We walked inside, still holding hands, our blood hot
and eager in our veins. The reception hall was palatial and reminded me of
something straight out of the seventeenth century, aside from the computers at
the desk.