“It’s not like that,” Sierra quickly replied, hoping they’d drop it.
“No way. I saw him watching you. His body was tense, and his eyes were practically stripping you where you stood,” Trinity said with a giggle.
“Mmm, agreed. We didn’t even need to turn the oven on to boil the water,” Nicole added.
Sierra didn’t want to say how close to right they may actually be. He may have hired her for nothing but a call-girl. He’d be disappointed if that’s what he was after.
“Honestly, I swear it’s not like that,” Sierra said, but as the women laughed, she couldn’t help but smile with them. Her fear was quickly evaporating in light of Damien’s choice of friends. He couldn’t be too terrible of a man if he associated with such good people.
“You do think he’s hot, right?” Trinity asked, her gaze boring into Sierra, not allowing her to lie.
“I am human. It’s pretty hard not to notice he’s a bit better looking than the average guy. Then again, all your husbands are on an equally sizzling scale, so I think it may just be that this house has some incredibly good lighting,” Sierra said with a giggle.
“Ah, great come-back. No, it’s certainly not the light. Those men are definitely drool-worthy. Seriously, though, they have hearts of gold – each one of them,” Trinity said, her eyes softening as she talked about the men she loved.
“I’m sure they do,” Sierra replied, a bit envious at the connection these women shared with not only their husbands, but each other, as well.
“Okay, we promise not to grill you anymore tonight, but only if you swear to tell us if anything does occur on that lengthy flight,” Jasmine said as she pulled a tray of sizzling meat from the oven.
“Deal,” Sierra promised, feeling confident there wouldn’t be anything to tell.
Chapter Seven
“What exactly am I supposed to be doing for you?” Sierra asked as they buckled their seatbelts and prepared for take-off. She wasn’t a fan of flying and hoped he’d at least speak to her, take her mind off the fact that soon they’d be flying over the ocean for the next fifteen or so hours.
She’d been in awe of his private jet, which had luxuriously soft carpet, a comfortable seating area, two bedrooms, full-sized bathroom, and a kitchen. Her father had a company jet, but it paled in comparison to Damien’s. She felt like she’d stepped into a whole other world.
“My corporation has various arms to it – investments in multi-billion dollar properties throughout the world, exports to and from many countries, and most importantly, wine. My vineyards are my passion. I take pride in creating a superior product. The most elite wine connoisseurs are on waiting lists for my best products. I have various P.R. Reps, but only one who travels with me as I close deals. The rest are stationed in different countries and do what needs to be done year round.”
“That didn’t answer my question. What is my job?” Sierra said with some frustration.
“Your job is to do whatever I need you to do,” he said, his gaze connecting with hers. A shiver ran down her spine at the look in his eye.
“I’m exhausted. My world has been flipped upside down. This morning I woke up after a long and grueling week, only to be told I’ve been hired for a position I didn’t apply for. I’m not complaining, I’d just like to know what that position is, exactly. Do I type up papers, file documents, take notes? What are my daily tasks?”
“Yes to all of the above, along with a lot of research. I’ll go over more of what I need you to do when we land. My week has also been exhausting and I have a lot to get done on our trip. Taking the time to find a new employee is always frustrating, but I don’t trust anyone else to hire certain positions, especially the placements where the employee will spend a lot of time with me. You’ll have access to a lot of personal data, and I take that seriously. After take-off, why don’t you go try and get some sleep. I have work to do and don’t have time to visit,” Damien said, dismissing her.
Sierra felt her temper flare. She was sick of men telling her what to do, expecting her to bend to their will. She was sick of being a punching doll, whether mentally or physically. Fine. If he didn’t want to explain her duties, then she’d just enjoy the ride and explore the island of Australia. It didn’t really matter to her one way or the other. At least she was away from her father.
Once the captain cleared them to remove their seat-belts, Sierra got up and walked down the plush hallway to the smaller of the two rooms. Inside was a double bed with the blankets turned back, inviting her to lie down.
She opened a door and found a small bathroom, which even included a shower. She made use of the facilities, then laid down, not expecting to catch any sleep.
Sierra woke up, slowly rising to a sitting position. She rubbed her eyes before glancing at the clock, shocked when she noted the time. She’d slept for ten hours straight. How had she managed that? She couldn’t remember ever sleeping that long. Maybe it was because of their high elevation, or possibly the stress of the last few weeks catching up with her, but whatever it was, she felt better than she had in a long time.
She climbed out of bed, taking a minute to stretch her stiff muscles. After once again using the small, but nice bathroom, she made her way back out to the front of the jet.
Sierra stood in the dim light of the aircraft as she entered the main cabin area. Damien was in the same seat she’d left him in, but his head was leaned back against the soft back, his eyes closed as he gently breathed in and out.
She took a moment to glance over his softer features. He really was quite handsome, even more so without his eyes shooting sparks at her. He had a five-o-clock shadow shading his jaw, and the top two buttons were undone on his shirt, showing just a hint of the toned flesh beneath the stark white fabric.
She found herself wanting to reach out and run her finger across the opening, see if his skin felt as silky as it looked. Her eyes traveled down his body, the strong, wide shoulders, defined arms stretching the fabric of his shirt. She moved lower, past the flatness of his stomach to where his shirt was still tucked into his custom fitted slacks. He’d removed his belt, and like his shirt, the top button of his pants was undone. Her eyes were drawn to the button-hole, her fingers almost itching to reach out and tug on his zipper.
With a shake of her head, she pulled her gaze back up, and collided with his now open eyes.