Overtime in the Boss's Bed

‘Too bad I’m a weekend kind of gal.’

He leaned closer, heart-stoppingly closer, and as she submerged the urge to bury her face in that broad chest she took a steadying breath, only to be bombarded with an intoxicating blend of fresh limes, tequila and straw-berries. Fruity and tart, a heavenly cocktail mix, shaken and stirred, and served by one hell of a guy.

‘You always this brash?’

‘You always this forward with someone you don’t know?’

‘Easily rectified.’

He held out his hand, leaving her no option but to take it, gritting her teeth against the insane surge of heat sizzling up her arm.

‘Callum Cartwright. CEO of Cartwright Corporation. In desperate need of a temp PA ’til I find a long-term replacement.’

She slipped her hand from his, dropped it to her side, curled and uncurled her fingers several times to eradicate the residual tingling.

‘Starr Merriday. Dancer, not PA.’

‘Too bad.’

He slid a card from his top pocket, handed it to her.

‘In case you change your mind.’

With an annoyed huff, she shook her head. ‘You just don’t give up, do you?’

‘Not in my vocabulary.’

She toyed with the card, flipping it between her thumb and index finger, dying to glance at it but not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

‘Let me guess. You’re one of those demanding, controlling, determined bosses who won’t take no for an answer.’

An odd expression she couldn’t decipher creased his brow for a second before vanishing.

‘You don’t get to be the best by settling. For anything.’

Excitement rippled through her—whether from his drive, his power or his proximity, she had no idea.

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

‘Sure I can’t tempt you?’

She could play it safe, give him a boring brush-off. But she was through playing it safe. Look where safe had got her for the last few years.

Uh-uh. Safe was for being the best at her job, staying loyal to one dance company for seven years, trusting her partner. And look where she’d landed anyway.

Forget safe.

‘That depends.’ She leaned into his personal space, her reeling senses on overload. ‘What’s on offer?’

This close, she could see his eyes were dark—deliciously dark and enigmatic—though she didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to figure out the mystery behind them right now.

He was turned on: pupils dilated, eyes wide, pheromones creating a sensual cocoon around them.

The buzz she’d experienced when jabbing his chest had returned tenfold, multiplying and stultifying and defying her to take a risk.

‘You don’t want the job, so what do you want?’

She wanted to push the boundaries, to flirt, to feel feminine and desirable and wanted—all sadly lacking in her last relationship.

But was it worth inviting a potential one-night stand on her last night in Sydney?

For one drawn-out, exciting, tension-fraught moment, with Callum Cartwright staring into her eyes, she was sorely tempted.

CHAPTER TWO

COURTING a potential business partner was the only reason Callum had attended another boring cocktail party tonight.

He’d made the requisite circle of the room, shaken hands, slapped backs, and had been counting down the minutes deemed polite enough before leaving when that klutz of a waiter had bumped into him.

He’d been less than impressed—until he’d locked eyes with the gorgeous blonde on the other side of the room, and suddenly his drenched shirt hadn’t mattered, the evening had not been so mundane.

He was a firm believer in following instincts. His gut reaction had made him millions in the financial arena, where Cartwright Corporation ruled.

So when she’d fled, he’d followed.

She’d verbally retreated. He’d verbally sparred.

And he’d been getting somewhere too. Her flashing eyes and lush mouth had been at odds with her defensive body language…until this.

Fishing his vibrating mobile phone out of his pocket, he glanced at the caller ID and begged off the luscious blonde, asking her to wait for him as he headed for the far side of the balcony.

He never turned off his mobile phone—the height of rudeness, as his last PA had kept reminding him. But then she didn’t run a corporation and control billions of dollars. The money market never slept, and neither did he these days.

He hadn’t slept in a long time—not since the fateful night that had catapulted him into this business in the first place.

And that was why he had to take this call.

Not because it would make or break Cartwright Corporation, but because it was from the one person who understood exactly what had happened that night, and was still dealing with it in his own way.

Taking a deep breath, he stabbed the answer button. ‘Rhys, how’s it going?’

‘Not bad, bro. You?’

‘Same old. Where are you?’

‘Japan for a few more days, then I head for the States.’

‘You coming home eventually?’