a lightweight. She had to be drunk to imagine that Simon Kramer would look at her that way, like he wouldn’t mind seeing more of her—naked.
“I wouldn’t have taken the job working here if money didn’t matter to me,” she admitted. But having him to look at, to fantasize about, had given her the inspiration to succeed at her other job.
“So then more money will get you to stay,” he said dismissively, as if he’d closed a case. He tossed her crumpled-up resignation letter into the brass trash can sitting beside his desk.
Frustration—and not just with this conversation—overwhelmed her, overcoming her natural inclination to avoid confrontation, and she blurted out, “No!”
Working for him these past two years had increased her frustration because of all those damn fantasies he’d inspired.
“But you just said—”
“I took the job because I needed money,” she said. “I needed money then.”
His eyes narrowed more as he studied her face. “And you don’t need it now?”
“My reason for leaving has nothing to do with money,” she said. Had she not found another source of income, she would have been forced to stay, but he didn’t need to know that.
“So you do have a reason.”
He wasn’t the trial lawyer of their partnership, but he could have been. She felt like she was being cross-examined on the witness stand. And she didn’t enjoy it one bit. Quitting was not a crime.
“I don’t have to give you a reason.” At least she didn’t think she did.
Maybe she should have had a lawyer look at that employment contract before she’d written her resignation letter. But no matter how much she paid, no lawyer would be as good as Simon Kramer. He was the best.
And, according to his ex-lovers, not just at the law...
“Why don’t you want to tell me?” he asked, and he stepped closer now, so close that she could feel the heat of his body through his suit and her cardigan and skirt.
Heat flushed her body, making her skin tingle. She tried to step back but the desk stopped her, the hard wood pressing into the backs of her thighs as he nearly touched the front of her. Her breasts pushed against the front of the gray cardigan as she struggled for breath. She had never been this close to him before. It was more than unsettling. Her knees trembled and her already tripping pulse quickened even more.
“Because it’s personal,” she murmured. And they had never been anything but businesslike with each other, except in her dreams.
He leaned down, so close that his warm breath whispered across her lips as he asked, “Are you in love with me?”
HER MOUTH HAD fallen open with the same shock Simon had seen on her face when he’d first caught her in his office. So he repeated his question, like he’d had to repeat his first one. “Are you in love with me?”
Color rushed to her face again. But she wasn’t embarrassed. She was amused because she started laughing. Hers was no flirty, girlish giggle, either. Her laugh was deep and husky and had his pulse racing with attraction even as his pride bristled.
Focused on his face, her dark eyes widened. “You’re serious? You think I’m in love with you?”
“No,” he said, and his face heated a little with embarrassment. But it wouldn’t have been the first time someone had fallen for him without any encouragement from him. “I don’t.”
Not anymore. Not after her reaction.
Apparently, it was a good thing he’d never acted on the attraction he’d felt for her. He had no doubt she might have sued for harassment. But now that she’d already given her notice...
“Then why would you ask...?” She trailed off as her voice cracked with the threat of another giggle. It turned into a hiccup instead.
He caught the faint scent of wine on her breath and asked, “Have you been drinking?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” she countered. “It’s after office hours, and I’m not working. It doesn’t matter how much I’ve had to drink.”
“It does if it’s affecting your judgment,” he replied.
Just how affected was her judgment? He wasn’t thinking about just tonight or about just the drinking. Other things could affect judgment. Like greed. Or some other kind of coercion. Maybe she had a lover at an opposing law firm. Had something like that affected her judgment enough that she’d sold information from their case files?
Was that why she didn’t need money any longer?
He had to find out. Right now was probably his best chance—if she’d had enough alcohol to bring down her defenses. He had never seen Bette like this before. Or maybe he’d just never let himself see her like this—except for a stolen glance or two at her assets.
Simon hadn’t been able to stop himself from admiring the lush curves of her hips and ass in her pencil-slim skirts. And the little cardigans she wore did nothing to hide the fullness of her breasts. They strained the buttons at the front, showing little glimpses of the lace camisoles she wore beneath the sweaters.
“So you think the only reasons I could have for wanting to quit are because I’m drunk or in love with you?” she asked, a smile curving her full lips.
Since she didn’t usually look at him, he’d never noticed before how full her lips were—so full that she had a slight dimple in the middle of her bottom one.
He wanted to tug at that lip—with his lips and with his teeth. He wanted to nibble on it until she gasped for breath. Then he wanted those lips to touch him, to close around his cock as she sucked him deep into her throat.
His heart slammed against his ribs as desire sneaked up on him. This was Bette, his boring assistant. Except that she didn’t want to be his assistant anymore.
So what did that make her? The spy who’d betrayed their practice? Simon needed to know for certain if she was the office mole. But how the hell was he going to get her to talk?
She wouldn’t even give him the reason she was resigning. Why didn’t she want him to know? What was she hiding?
In order to get her talking, he needed to talk first. The best way for a con to gain the confidence of his mark was to share a confidence of his own.
“I’ve always had a problem keeping assistants,” he admitted to her. It wasn’t exactly a deep, dark confession, but it was the truth. “You’ve lasted much longer than anyone else has.” About a year and a half longer than her longest-working predecessor.
“I know people who would love to work for you.”
He sighed. “For the wrong reasons. Professionally, they want to get ahead.” They wanted to use the position as his assistant to launch their
