How to Seduce a Billionaire

She stared at the bottle, then up at him. “Sure. I’ll find an opener.”

He could tell she was nervous as she rattled around in one of the kitchen drawers. And why shouldn’t she be? It wasn’t every day a woman kissed her employer. And it wasn’t every night that said employer showed up at her hotel room carrying a bottle of wine. He just hoped she wouldn’t get the wrong idea. All he wanted to do was clear the air so their working relationship could go back to being as exceptional as it had been before the kiss. It was a simple problem and it wouldn’t take him long to explain his feelings, but he had to admit that a quick glass of wine would probably help them both relax.

“Here you go,” she said, and handed him a corkscrew.

“Glasses?”

“Oh.” She swallowed anxiously. “Right.”

As he worked to remove the cork, he took a moment to study his longtime assistant—and wondered how he’d ever thought he’d be able to relax in her hotel room.

She wore cutoff shorts and a T-shirt, an outfit that a jury of his peers would consider thoroughly appropriate for spending a balmy night alone in her room. But as she reached for the wineglasses on the second shelf of the cupboard, he watched her T-shirt inch up to reveal the leanness of her stomach. On her tiptoes now, her shorts stretched just enough to show the soft, pale skin above her tan line where the curve of her bottom met her perfectly toned thighs.

“Here you go,” she said, placing two glasses on the counter.

Brandon let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Thanks.” He took his time pouring wine into the glasses and handed her one. “Kelly, I—”

“Look, Brandon—”

“Sorry. What were you going to say?”

She blinked, then said in a rush, “No, you go first.”

“Fine. I just think—”

“Okay, I’ll go first.” She glanced briefly toward the ceiling as if she were looking for guidance from above. Brandon watched her chest move up and down as she inhaled, then exhaled. She was clearly edgy. She picked up her wineglass and took a gulp, paced a few steps back and forth across the small kitchen, then stopped and met his gaze, her face a mask of regret.

“I want to apologize for the way I behaved today,” she said. “I don’t know what got into me. I’ve been going crazy ever since I learned that Roger would be coming here and I guess I… I lost my head. I’m mortified about what happened. I just hope you’ll accept my apology and trust that it’ll never happen again.”