smiled, the rare flash of brilliance illuminating his face and sending her heart hammering in her chest. ‘Oh, really? How so?’
Ignoring her pounding pulse and wondering how she could control her treacherous reactions to her handsome boss, she said, ‘I didn’t know the hours I’d be expected to work. Your mother suggested I discuss it with you.’
‘So, if I say I need you tonight, you’re mine for the evening?’
Oh-oh. She didn’t need this sort of encouragement. Her overactive imagination was doing fine on its own, thank you very much, without help from his innuendo.
She cleared her throat. ‘As your butler, I would’ve expected to work evenings. As your PA, I thought most work could be accomplished during the day.’
His smile broadened, if that were possible. ‘Not for what I have in mind.’
Thankfully, the intercom buzzed on his desk, saving her from answering. She took a deep breath and wondered if he played word games with all his female staff. Was he actually flirting with her or was her limited experience with men rearing its head?
Dylan hit the speaker button. ‘Yes, Mum?’
Liz Harmon’s voice filtered through the intercom. ‘I was wondering if you could spare Sam for a moment? I need to discuss a few things with her.’
He looked up at his new personal assistant, who had her head bent over the stack of invoices and was sorting them into several neat piles as if her life depended on it. ‘Sure, as long as it doesn’t take too long. I’ve upgraded her position from butler to PA and we have a mountain of work to get through.’
His mother chuckled. ‘This, from the man who said he didn’t need help?’
He studied the way Sam’s hair fell in loose curls around her face, the slight frown that marred her smooth forehead, the flicker of her tongue as it darted out to moisten her top lip. He’d noticed she’d done that earlier, when he’d first strolled out of the bathroom and seen her standing in his bedroom, and several times since; he assumed it was a nervous reaction, though it sure as hell drove him crazy every time she did it. How could such an innocuous movement elicit the wayward thoughts he’d been experiencing about what the gorgeous Sam’s tongue could be doing to him?
‘Dylan, you still there?’
Wrenching his thoughts out of the gutter, he replied, ‘Yes, Mum. I’ll send Samantha right up.’
‘Thanks. Oh, and by the way, you’re welcome.’
He smiled as his mother’s chuckles petered out and he disconnected. ‘Leave those for now. You can get back to it later.’
Sam looked up and, once again, the luminous green of her eyes hit him like a blow to the solar plexus. It wasn’t the colour so much as the clarity that shone like a beacon, beckoning him to challenge her, taunt her, flirt with her, anything to get her looking at him with more than a passing interest from an employee for her boss. That was what had prompted him to offer her the job as his personal assistant—the more time she spent in his company, the more chance she might look at him with the spark he’d glimpsed when he’d caressed her cheek that morning. That one, fleeting flare of fire in her eyes had aroused him more than any other woman had in a long, long time.
She stood up and he had a chance to admire the snug fit of the uniform. He had a real hankering to see her without it—hell, he wished he could see her trim body with nothing at all—but, right now, he’d settle for anything else in her wardrobe. For some strange reason she had too much poise, too much class, to be wearing a uniform and he didn’t need any reminder of her status as his employee. If he had his way she’d be far more than that by the end of her three month stint; it had been far too long since he’d had a lover.
‘About my working hours?’
He resisted the urge to shake his head; ever since she’d walked into his life this morning, his mind had been enveloped in a fog that clouded his every thought. Even now, he could barely remember what they’d been discussing before his mother had interrupted.
‘We’ll discuss it later.’ He waved her away, noting the stiffening of her shoulders, the straightening of her spine. Once again, it hit him that she didn’t like taking orders and he wondered what on earth had prompted her to take this job. Something about Sam Piper didn’t ring true and, lovely as she was, he had every intention of finding out exactly what secrets she hid behind that sexy façade.
‘Fine.’ She nodded before turning on her heel and walking towards the door, giving him free rein to ogle her slim legs and tantalising butt.
Though she’d said everything was fine, he seriously doubted it. Her rigid posture screamed that it wasn’t, not by a long shot. And, if his confused libido were anything to go by, he’d have to agree.
Sam slowly exhaled as she closed the study door. She must be insane to contemplate going through with her plan if she couldn’t even last the morning in Dylan’s company. Heck, could he see how she practically swooned when he smiled at her? And, as for his asking if she was free tonight, she’d had to restrain herself from leaping over the desk and straight on to his lap!
Men had never affected her this way; she’d always managed to keep her relationships strictly platonic, preferring male friends to the groping Neanderthals that some of her dates had turned into at the slightest encouragement. Even some of the ‘pillars of society’ that her brothers had set her up with had turned out to be marauding sex maniacs and she’d managed to avoid their embarrassing advances with aplomb. So maybe that made her naïve when it came to men, but did it totally explain her over-the-top reaction to Dylan?
What made him so special that every self-preservation mechanism she’d ever used seemed to malfunction whenever he so much as looked at her? Whatever it was, she needed to get a handle on it quick smart. Heck, that was all she needed, her new boss to think she had some childish crush on him.
Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door to Liz Harmon’s sitting room.
‘Come in, Sam.’
Sam opened the door, wondering what the older woman could want. After the initial interview they hadn’t crossed paths, though she’d taken an instant liking to the elegant Liz.
‘You wanted to see me, Mrs Harmon?’
Liz waved towards a chair. ‘Take a seat, child. And please, call me Liz.’
Keeping her surprise from showing, Sam perched on the overstuffed chair and folded her hands in her lap.
Liz reached for a leather-bound book on a nearby table and opened it. ‘I know all about you, dear.’
She fixed Sam with a piercing stare, leaving her in little doubt as to what she meant. Sam clenched her hands till the knuckles whitened, trying to buy valuable time to compose an answer that wouldn’t incriminate yet sounded honest at the same time.
However, Liz continued before she had the chance to speak. ‘There was something about you that looked familiar at the interview, so I followed a hunch. I’m a great fan of history, you know.’
In that instant, any hope Sam harboured that the older lady was just fishing for information vanished. Schooling her features into a polite mask, she said, ‘I can explain—’
