Playboy Boss, Live-In Mistress

‘Do we have a deal?’

‘No.’ He smiled crookedly. ‘Criticise away. I may not always like or agree with what you have to say, Sienna, but I still want to hear it.’

Sienna sighed heavily. Now he was being charming. ‘Would you want to hear the opinions of a PA you hadn’t known since childhood?’

‘Probably not. But, then, you’re not a regular employee, are you? Which means some of the regular rules simply don’t apply. I can give you the workload a PA would get from me. I can show you how to do it. But don’t ask me to treat you like a proper PA this coming month because I can’t.’

‘You could try.’

‘And I’d fail. I don’t look to you for instant obedience, Sienna. I look to you for truth.’

Sienna went all marshmallow-soft inside; she couldn’t help it.

The seat-belt lights went off. Lex opened his laptop and started opening files. ‘And trouble,’ he muttered. ‘Trust me, Sienna, you bring that to the table too.’

At five fifty-five a. m., local time, Sienna and Lex stepped off the plane, collected their luggage, cleared customs, and stepped into the arrivals area. Sienna had never been to Australia before. The dress code of the people waiting for passengers seemed far more informal than that of the people at Heathrow. People smiled more and walked slower, the air was warmer and the general vibe felt a whole lot more relaxed.

Or maybe she only thought it felt more relaxed because she was so glad to finally get off that plane. Lex had focussed on his work for most of the Singapore-Sydney leg of the trip, stopping only for meal breaks. There had been no awkward moments of heart-stopping sexual tension, nothing out of the ordinary at all, not on Lex’s part at any rate. But Sienna still hadn’t quite been able to relax in his company. Not until they’d left the plane behind.

‘The trick to jet lag and adjusting quickly to the new time zone is to stay awake for the rest of the day, local time, and crawl into bed around midnight,’ Lex told Sienna as he collected both his suitcases and hers.

‘Uh-huh,’ Sienna replied with increasing good humour as they strode through the glass doors and out onto the Sydney pavement. Fresh air, heavily laden with exhaust fumes and the promise of a hot summer’s day, greeted her. ‘It sounds perfectly sensible in theory, don’t get me wrong. Remind me again when I fall asleep in my soup at lunchtime. How far is it to your place from here, again?’

‘Half an hour.’ Lex steered the bags towards a waiting limousine, gave the driver the address and opened the back door for Sienna to get in. ‘Watson’s Bay lies just inside the southern entrance to Sydney Harbour. The land there tapers off to a point, with one side facing the bay and the other side facing the ocean. It’s a nice spot. You’ll like it,’ he told her with a boyish smile that told of his enthusiasm for his latest cubbyhole. He’d always had dozens of special places tucked away in the grounds of his family’s estate as a child. Sienna had delighted in seeking them out during her visits, and Lex had always shared them with her with good grace and enthusiasm, just as he was doing now. It had taken her years before she’d realised that Lex was a whole lot more careful about sharing himself with anyone else. He’d grown up wary of reporters and social climbers; people who saw the money and the position in society rather than the man, never mind that the man himself was spectacular.

If she could just think of this Sydney home as Lex’s latest cubby rather than the abode of a man who could damage her calm with nothing more than a single heated glance, they would get along just fine. ‘And the house?’ she questioned. ‘The hub? Which side is it on?’

‘The bay side. I needed somewhere to put the yacht.’

‘Of course,’ she said dryly. ‘The yacht.’

‘There’s a housekeeper too. His name’s Rudy. He used to be a Navy frigate midshipman. He likes things tidy. Cooks extremely tasty French frou-frou food but you might want to stay out of his kitchen. He’s territorial.’

‘Pity. I like kitchens.’ Kitchens had been her refuge as a child, especially when her parents had been mid-argument, which had been most of the time. She tended to gravitate towards them, even as an adult. A boiling kettle and the fixings for a cup of tea provided comfort and warmth on too many levels to count.

Lex sent her a sharp glance but stayed silent.

‘Is the presence of Rudy the former frigate midshipman supposed to be reassuring when it comes to the thought of sharing a house with you for a month?’ she said next.

‘I figured it would be,’ he said mildly.

‘What if he wants to entertain?’

‘Don’t dwell on it. I never do. Rudy lives in the apartment over the garage. What he does there is his business.’ And at her raised eyebrow he added, ‘All I’m saying is that we’re not going to be entirely alone in the house, that’s all. You might want to factor that into your decision-making process.’

‘Thanks. I will.’ Sienna chewed pensively on her bottom lip. She didn’t want to be contrary or difficult. She just wanted the month to go as smoothly as possible. ‘In the interests of exploring all options, have you any idea how expensive the rents nearby would be?’

‘Expensive,’ he said. ‘Watson’s Bay isn’t a budget area, Sienna.’

‘What about housing a little further away?’

‘Then the commute will be longer.’

‘It’s called compromise.’

‘I know what compromise is,’ he said curtly. ‘The business world is full of it. What I don’t understand is why you feel the need to make such a compromise.’

‘So I’m frugal,’ she said lightly. ‘Not all of us have deep pockets, Lex. You know I’m not in your league.’

‘I also know that parting with a month’s worth of high-end rent—unnecessary as it would be—shouldn’t really bother you.’ Lex’s gaze had sharpened; his interest had been piqued. ‘Sienna, are you in financial trouble? Is that why the sudden push to become a PA?’

‘No! And no. Of course not.’ She sent him a bright smile, but she couldn’t hold his gaze. She opted instead for staring out the window at Sydney’s suburbia. Subterfuge never had been her strong point. She didn’t have to see Lex’s diamond hard gaze to know that it was boring into her. She could feel it. ‘There simply aren’t that many advancement opportunities for art curators at the moment, that’s all. I figure if I can combine business skills with my knowledge of the art world I might be able to pick up a PA position with a collector or gallery owner. Broaden my horizons.’ Find some missing paintings… ‘I will confess that a bigger pay cheque would also be most welcome.’

‘So you do need money,’ he said next. ‘I knew it. I knew there was something to all of this that you weren’t telling me. How much?’

‘I said my money situation was fine. Just fine.’

‘I swear you’re the worst liar I know,’ he muttered, and lapsed into a brooding, simmering silence. Lex didn’t know the true extent of her woeful financial circumstances, none of the Wentworth family did, and Sienna took great pains to keep it that way. They’d given her refuge and protection as a child and friendship and family closeness as she’d grown older, but there were some things that Sienna didn’t share with anyone. The small matter of her rapidly dwindling financial resources was one of them.

‘What does it cost you to maintain that ridiculous mausoleum your mother left you?’ demanded Lex suddenly. He didn’t wait for an answer, he saw it in the dismayed glance she sent him because he cursed and his expression turned even grimmer. ‘If it’s draining you of every cent you have, sell it. Realise some profit or cut your losses, but get rid of it.’

‘No.’ There was no defending her emotional attachment to the old summer house set high on the cliffs of southern Cornwall. She didn’t even try. ‘Are we done with the commerce lecture yet?’

‘You are impossible to help,’ he said from between gritted teeth. ‘Why can’t you just tell me what you need like any normal person?’

‘I have!’ Sienna glanced over at him again, nothing more than a fleeting stab of desperation and pain, but it might as well have been a sword because it certainly made Lex bleed. ‘I need to learn how to be a good personal assistant and you’re going to teach me. That’s all I want from you. That’s all I need. Don’t value add.’

‘Dammit, Sienna!’ Didn’t she understand yet that that was what he did? ‘I’m asking you one simple question. How much money do you need?’

‘You don’t understand,’ she said quietly.

‘ThehellIdon’t!’ Lex turned to stare out the window at the passing suburbs, cursing Sienna’s long-dead mother for willing her a keepsake she couldn’t keep, cursing himself for not figuring it out sooner. He knew Sienna was touchy when it came to money, knew he shouldn’t have pushed her for answers she wasn’t prepared to give, but, dammit, why couldn’t she just confide in him the way she used to?

It wasn’t until the limousine pulled into the circular driveway and stopped at the entrance to his sprawling luxury mansion that Lex made a determined effort to shake his black mood and play the host. He didn’t bother pointing out again that it would be far cheaper for Sienna to live here with him than find somewhere else to stay. She knew that already.

The front door opened and Lex felt his lips curve ever so slightly as the dour and imposing Rudy stepped out. Rudy was doing his bodyguard-butler impersonation today—black trousers, a black T-shirt that strained across his massive torso, black wrap-around sunglasses, and an almighty scowl.

Sienna had seen him too. ‘Rudy the territorial?’ she queried with a glance that held equal parts wariness and apology.

‘Yes.’

‘You didn’t tell me he looked like Steven Seagal.’

‘That’s because he doesn’t.’

‘Does he talk like Steven Seagal too?’

‘Steven Seagal doesn’t talk,’ said Lex. ‘His skills lie elsewhere. Come to think of it, Rudy doesn’t talk either, unless he has to.’