“Would you like to make a list of what’s expected of me?” Lexie asked eagerly.
He groaned. A peppy, sexy personal assistant wasn’t what he’d had in mind. Of course, he’d run off the older woman before Lexie (too many personal errands for her taste), the young woman right out of college (she’d come on to him and looked like jailbait, and when he’d not-so-politely turned her down, she’d walked out on the spot), and another PA who hadn’t appreciated his request for coffee every morning. She’d said it went against her feminist sensibilities. He’d told her he didn’t give a shit and she’d quit.
Lucas claimed Kade had control and trust issues with women and drove them off on purpose. He was right about one thing. Kade didn’t trust most females. The first one in his life had abandoned him by choice, and the ones who’d come after had betrayed him. That didn’t just jade a man. It embedded an ugly truth deep in his psyche. Women either wanted something or would stab him in the back, one way or another.
His personal assistant, as much as he needed one, had the potential to get too close and intimately involved, at least in his private life. Add in the fact that the woman waiting for his instructions was beautiful, and things were destined to get complicated. But he needed the help, something Derek obviously knew. So Lexie Parker was his, at least for now.
“Let’s start with you giving my desk back.”
He cocked an eyebrow and waited for her to walk around the piece of furniture, providing a view of nice legs beneath her pencil skirt that ended just above the knee and an ass she knew how to sway as she walked. With the way his body tightened, her damned hem might as well hit mid-thigh.
Pissed at himself, he strode around her, catching a whiff of a warm, feminine scent he couldn’t name but would never forget.
“I’ll just go get a pen and paper,” she said.
“Here.” He handed her a yellow lined notepad and a pen, pulled from the holder she’d moved to the right side of his desk.
He gestured for her to sit before easing himself into his luxurious leather chair and tipping back, getting as comfortable as he could within the confines of his suit. He much preferred his well-worn jeans. He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his dress shirt, his gaze locking with hers. She’d been staring, watching his every move.
Caught, her cheeks flushed a pretty pink, and she ducked her head, busied herself, making a show of clicking the pen open and getting ready to take notes.
He steepled his fingers and began to rattle off his list of daily needs. “First things first. Coffee waiting for me at nine. I like it fresh, hot, black with three sugars. You’ll keep my schedule of meetings. I tend to forget without a reminder. You’ll accompany me to meetings, get a feel for this business and anything I’m currently working on. I need you fluent in tech.” He glanced over his fingers to find her writing quickly.
Finishing up, she met his gaze. “Ready.”
Here’s where the issues and deal breakers usually came in. “I’ll expect you to pick up my dry cleaning from my house on Tuesdays and Saturdays and drop it off at my apartment.” He handed her a card from his top desk drawer. “My preferred dry cleaner’s address.”
He spared her another look as she merely accepted the card. She didn’t balk at doing his personal chores. Surprising respect rose before he smothered it.
“Got it. What else?” she asked.
Undeterred, he continued. “I work from home often. On those days I’ll ask you to bring me lunch or work from there as well.”
She nodded once again.
“No complaints so far?”
An amused smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Nope. You haven’t run me off yet. So what do you like to eat for lunch?”
“Grilled chicken on whole wheat bread, mayonnaise, and two slices of avocado. There’s a place downstairs that delivers.” He slid another business card across the desk.
She picked it up, drawing his attention to her pink fingernails. Delicate, long fingers, made for curling around his—
“Keys. I’ll need a key to your house,” she said, interrupting his inappropriate train of thought.
“Apartment,” he muttered, annoyed she was a step ahead of him. And also irked by the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about her in a sexual way. It was going to make working with her damned distracting. “I’ll get you a key soon.” He always had his locks changed after a PA didn’t work out.
“Is there anything else?” she asked, sliding the pen along her lip in a gesture surely not meant to be erotic, but his body registered it that way nevertheless.
“No. You can go home,” he snapped.
“Excuse me?” she asked, eyes wide. “You can’t just fire me for no good cause.”
“I didn’t. I’m giving you a break. You can’t be comfortable in that damp shirt,” he said, deliberately letting his gaze trail over the water stains on her chest.
Those luscious lips opened, then closed again in horrified shock.
Go ahead, sweetheart. Call me on sexual harassment, he thought. At least that would end his pain. He couldn’t spend another minute wondering what color her nipples were beneath that lacy bra, and his jaw hurt from clenching his teeth so hard.
When she remained silent, he knew she was stronger than he’d given her credit for. “I’m going to work from home this afternoon,” he told her, making the spur-of-the-moment decision. “Leave me your email and cell number, and I’ll send you a grocery list. You can fill it and bring it by later today. My fridge is empty.”