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Reflected Pleasures

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Год написания книги
2019
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During her modeling career, on the other hand, she’d been determined to have a regular life. But with all the paparazzi hounding her every move, it had been impossible. She’d finally understood that the only way to escape from all the trappings of wealth was to become someone else.

Merri was having to find out about a lot of mundane occupations for the first time now. She was living on her own in a wonderful cottage and actually working at a real job. Thrilled at every newly mastered daily task, she cursed her “kind” every time some simple chore turned into a challenge.

Slipping off the ugly, squat heels, Merri curled her legs up under her body. Ty’s huge desk chair was much more comfortable than that old computer chair where she would do most of her work. She sighed and thought about buying a new seat cushion for herself…and a hot plate to boil water for tea in the office.

It looked like maybe she was going to get the hang of this new life after all.

The door opened, startling her. She blinked at the interruption, then quickly straightened up when she realized it was Ty coming back, carrying a huge paper sack.

“Good afternoon, Merri. How’d your day go?”

“Uh, just fine, sir.” She used her toes to feel around, trying to find her shoes so she could stand and move out of his chair. But she’d apparently kicked the darn things way under his desk.

He scowled down at her and set the sack on his desk. “None of that ‘sir’ stuff. It’s Ty, remember? Come give me a hand with this food.”

“Food?”

“Lunch. Jewel sent it over with instructions that both you and I take a proper break and eat every bite.”

Darn those shoes. “That was very nice of your aunt. But I’m really not hungry. I don’t usually eat lunch.” When she’d been at the top of her game in the modeling biz, she’d rarely allowed herself to eat anything at all. Old habits didn’t just disappear with a new life.

“Maybe you should start. You look as if a strong breeze could knock you right over. It’s fine to have beautiful eyes and all, but you need good food and exercise to stay healthy.”

She stopped fidgeting and forgot about her shoes. “You think I have beautiful eyes?”

She’d worked hard to find a way to play down all her features. But she had chosen not to change her eye color with contacts so as not to irritate her eyes. They had a tendency toward allergies.

These damn thick glasses should be doing the disguise trick. “You can’t.”

“I can’t?” He laughed and put a hand on his hip. “No one has ever told you before that you have pretty eyes? You must have lived a very secluded life…or else all the men around you must’ve been blind.”

Shut up! The man was one gorgeous hunk when he smiled. She resisted the urge to rip off the glasses and bat her eyelashes at him.

It suddenly hit her that she wasn’t the only one to think of flirting. Tyson Steele was coming on to her—in his own backward way.

But he couldn’t. That was the very thing she’d been trying to avoid. On top of the fact that he was her boss, he was also one of the filthy rich and appeared periodically in regional magazine spreads. If even a hint of her presence in this town got out, or if she was photographed and it leaked to the national press, her wonderful new life here would be finished.

No. That he was interested in her was flattering. And she was most definitely interested in him. But she simply could not allow herself to get that close.

She gave up and ducked under his desk to find the damn shoes.

“What’s going on down there?”

“Nothing. I was just…” She captured her shoes and twisted around to back out of the desk’s cubbyhole. But instead of being able to escape with a little grace, she found herself face-to-face with her new boss.

“Oh…” Merri gulped and tried a weak smile, but he was so close that she could barely breathe. “My shoes. I was trying to find my shoes.”

“You lost your shoes under my desk? Do you always disrobe when you work?” He reached up and absently pushed a stray piece of hair back behind her ear. Then pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned. “Uh…”

Ohmigod. His touch had sent shivers down her back, but they were forced to compete with the sweat that was beginning to pool at the base of her spine.

This was not working at all the way she’d hoped. “Excuse me. But will you let me out, please?”

“Sorry. Sure.” He stood and held out a hand to help her up. “Your clothes got kind of dusty down there. I guess the clean-up crew hasn’t mopped under that desk for a while. I suppose I should reprimand them.”

She stretched her legs and brushed at her jacket. “It’s my own fault for taking off my shoes. And I’ll speak to the crew, you needn’t worry about it. My duties will include being office manager since there is no one else.” Bending to slip on her shoes, she felt his hand brush against the back of her leg.

The shock of him touching her again caused her to stand up without giving a thought to how close behind her he must be. She heard a crack as the top of her head connected with the bottom of his chin, and the blow knocked them both off balance.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and twisted his body so he went down with her on top. Luckily his backside landed right in his own chair. Unluckily, she was sprawled out on his lap.

“Uff. Sorry,” she said with a gasp.

Not half as sorry as he was, Ty mused. “It’s my own fault for trying to help. I just thought I’d give you a hand dusting off. As usual, no good deed goes unpunished.”

She turned in his lap and made a face. “That’s a terrible cliché, and not true at all. It was an accident.”

Mercy. But he was being punished—every time she shifted against his groin. The non-sexy assistant had suddenly become a hot siren in his lap. And in a second, she was going to realize what it was doing to him.

Ty fitted his hands around her waist and lifted her to her feet in as smooth a move as he could manage. “Shoes all in place now?”

He waited to let go until he was sure she was steady. Then he backed off as fast as possible. He might need a little training in manners, but he certainly knew better than to be accused of sexual harassment.

“Um. Everything’s fine.” She straightened her jacket.

But it was too late for him. He’d already felt the truth of what lay underneath that drab black business suit.

She was thin all right. Thin and curvy. Rounded bottom and tiny waist. It made him wonder about the rest.

Ty had a feeling that from now on his attention was going to be focused exactly where she apparently didn’t want it. He’d wondered all along what she would look like in something besides those heavy clothes.

It was no longer an idle thought. Now he would make it his mission to keep her around long enough to find out.

Three

Ty sat back and watched Merri pick at her potato salad. He didn’t know whether she normally ate next to nothing or if she was still embarrassed over the fiasco with the shoes. He knew he might never get “over” it.

“Did you get a start on those thank-you letters?” he asked, trying to put the lap dance out of his head for the moment. Anything would be better than standing here with his tongue hanging out while he stared at those magical eyes.

“They’re done.” She pointed to a stack of envelopes all sealed and stamped and ready to post. “The copies are there in that folder, waiting for your approval before we put them in the mail. I signed the letters with the title of ‘Assistant for Development,’ if that’s okay with you.”

“You finished them all?” That was more work for one morning than any of the other assistants had managed in two weeks time. Dang. Sexy and competent, too. Whew!

He opened the manilla folder and flipped through the letters. “Very nice. You said something about each person’s individual gift. The letters aren’t all the same.”

“Each of those people spent their own individual time and money to help your children. The least we can do is send them a unique thank-you.”

She stood and soberly began to pick up the remnants of their lunch. “Actually, I was thinking that you should consider having a reception to honor all the donors. People like it when they’re shown public appreciation.”
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