at him. He didn’t help matters by encouraging them. But he just couldn’t help himself. He loved everything about women: Their soft curves and the silky warmth of their skin. The way they smelled and tasted. In fact, when it came to the female form, there wasn’t a single thing he didn’t adore.
This time, he had his sights set on Victoria. And he had yet to meet a woman he couldn’t seduce.
“You have questions?” he asked her.
“A few.”
He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Let’s hear it.”
She seemed to choose her words very carefully. “I assumed my duties would be limited to more of a…secretarial nature.”
“I have a secretary. What you’ll be doing is handling every aspect of my private affairs. From fetching my dry cleaning to screening my e-mail and calls. Making dinner reservations and booking events. If I need a gift for a friend or flowers for a date, it will be your responsibility to make it happen. You’ll also accompany me to any business meetings where I might require you to take notes.”
She nodded slowly, and he could see that she was struggling to keep her cool. “I understand that you need to fill the position, but don’t you think I’m a little over-qualified?”
He flashed her a patient and sympathetic smile. “I realize this is quite a step down from what you’re used to. But as I said before, until the second phase opens…” He shrugged, lifting his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “If it’s any consolation, since my last assistant left, my life has been in shambles. There will be plenty to keep you busy.”
For a second she looked as though she might press the issue, then thought better of it. It wasn’t often anyone outside of the family contradicted him. It was just a part of the title.
She spared him a stiff, strained smile. “Well, then, I guess I should get started.”
He was sure that once she got going, she would find managing his life something of a challenge. He wished he could say the same for seducing her, but he had the sneaking suspicion it would be all too easy.
Charles hadn’t been kidding when he said his life was in shambles.
After a quick tour of the building with Penelope, who had the personality and warmth of an iceberg, Victoria started at the top of his to do list. Sorting his e-mail. She had to go through his personal account and first weed out the spam that had slipped through the filter, then compare the sender addresses on legitimate mail to a list of people whose e-mails were to be sorted into several separate categories. Which didn’t sound like much of an undertaking, until she opened the account and discovered over four hundred e-mails awaiting her attention.
There were dozens from charities requesting his donation or endorsement, and notes from family and friends, including at least three or four a day from his mother. A lot of e-mails from women. And others from random people who admired him or in some cases didn’t speak too fondly of him. Cross-referencing them all with the list of addresses he’d supplied her would be a tedious, time-consuming task. And it seemed as though for every e-mail she erased or filed, a new one would appear in his inbox.
When eyestrain and fatigue had her vision blurring, she took a break and moved down to number two on the list. His voice mail. Following his instructions, she dialed the number and punched in the PIN, and was nearly knocked out of her chair when the voice announced that he had two hundred and twenty-six new messages! She didn’t get that many personal calls in a month, much less a week. And she couldn’t help wondering how many of those calls were from women.
It didn’t take long to find out.
There was Amber from the hotel bar, Jennifer from the club, Alexis from the ski lodge, and half a dozen more. Most rang more than once, sounding a bit more desperate and needy with each message. The lead offender for repeated calls, however, was Charles’s mother. She seemed to follow up every e-mail she sent with a phone call, or maybe it was the other way around. No less than three times a day. Sometimes more. And she began every call the exact same way. It’s your mum. I know you’re busy, but I wanted to tell you…
Nothing pressing as far as Victoria could tell. Just random tidbits about family or friends, or reminders of events he had promised to attend. A very attractive woman from a good family she would like him to meet. And she seemed to have an endless variety of pet names for him. Pumpkin and Sweetie. Love and Precious. Although Victoria’s favorite by far was Lamb Chop.
His mother never requested, or seemed to expect, a return call, and her messages dripped with a syrupy sweetness that made Victoria’s skin crawl. How could Charles stand it?
Easily. By having someone else check his messages.
She spent the next couple of hours listening to the first hundred or so calls, transcribing the messages for Charles, including a return phone number should he need to answer the call. Any incoming calls she let go directly to voice until she had time to catch up. Between the e-mail and voice mail, it could take days.
“Working late?”
Startled by the unexpected intrusion, she nearly dropped the phone. She looked up to find Charles standing in the doorway between their two offices. She couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d been standing there watching her.
“I’m sorry, what?” she said, setting the phone back in the cradle.
Her reaction seemed to amuse him. “I asked if you’re working late.”
She looked at her watch and realized that it was nearly eight p.m. She’d worked clear through lunch and dinner. “I guess I lost track of the hour.”
“You’re not required to work overtime.”
“I have a lot of work to catch up on.” Besides, she would much rather have been busy working than sitting home alone in the flat she had been forced to rent when her father could no longer afford to keep the family estate. Since she was born, that house had been the only place she had ever called home. But there was a new family living there now. Strangers occupying the rooms that were meant to belong to her own children some day.
Every time she set foot in her new residence, it was a grim, stark reminder of everything they had lost. And Charles, she reminded herself, was the catalyst.
He held up what she assumed was to be her new phone. The most expensive, state-of-the-art gadget on the market. “Before Penelope left she brought this in.”
She felt a sudden wave of alarm. His secretary was gone? Meaning they were alone?
She wondered who else was in the building, and if working alone with him was wise. She barely knew him.
“Is everyone gone?” she asked in a voice that she hoped sounded nonchalant.
“This is a law firm. There’s always someone working late on a case or an intern pulling an overnighter. If it’s safety you’re concerned about, the parking structure is monitored by cameras around the clock, and we employ a security detail in the lobby twenty-four seven.”
“Oh, that’s good to know.” Still, as he walked toward her desk to hand her the mobile phone, she tensed the tiniest bit. He was just so tall and assuming. So…there.
“It’s
