The Duke's Boardroom Affair / Convenient Marriage, Inconvenient Husband: The Duke's Boardroom Affair

Why on earth would he give her access to his house?

“My driver will be at your disposal twenty-four hours a day. Unless, of course, I’m using him, in which case you will be reimbursed for your petrol use.”

A driver? She couldn’t imagine what she would need that for. This job just kept getting stranger and stranger.

He gestured to a second door, adjacent to the one connecting their offices.

“That door leads to Penelope’s office and will be the entrance that you use. She’ll take you on a tour of the building, show you the break room and facilities. If you need to speak to me specifically, call first. The line to my office is marked on the phone. If I don’t answer that means I’m busy and not to be disturbed.”

“All right.”

“My business calls go through Penelope, but any personal calls will be routed through your office or to the cell phone I’ll supply you.”

Answering phones and taking messages? Not the most challenging job in the world. But the duke was obviously a man who liked things done a certain way, and if nothing else she respected that. More than once her employees at the Houghton had suggested she was a little too rigid when it came to her business practices, but she had never felt an ounce of regret for running a tight ship.

She had been working since the age of twelve, when her father let her help out in the Houghton Hotel office after school. But only after earning her master’s degree in business at university was she promoted to manager. Her father had insisted she earn her education, should she ever need something to fall back on.

And, boy, had she fallen back.

“Take some time to look over your duties, then we can discuss any questions you have,” he said.

“Fine.”

“I have to warn you, I’ve been without an assistant for a week now, and I’m afraid things are in a bit of a mess.”

Honestly, how hard could it be, being a glorified secretary? “I’m sure I can manage.”

“Well,” the Duke said, with one of those dazzling smiles, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

He turned and was halfway through the door before she realized she had no idea how she was supposed to address him. Did she call him Sir, or Sire? Did she have to bow or curtsy?

“Excuse me,” she said.

He turned back to her. “Yes?”

“What should I call you?” He looked puzzled, so she added, “Mr. or Sir? Your Highness?”

That grin was back, and, like his handshake, she felt it all the way to the pit of her belly.

Stop that, she warned herself. He only smiled that way because he wanted her to feel it in her belly.

“Let’s go with Charles,” he said.

She wasn’t sure if that was proper. Calling him by his first name just felt too…casual. But he was calling the shots, and she wasn’t going to give him any reason to accuse her of violating the contract. “All right.”

He flashed her one last smile before he closed the door behind him, and she had the distinct feeling he knew something she didn’t. Or maybe that was just part of the game. Either way, she refused to let him intimidate her. If they thought they were going to force her out, they had no idea who they were dealing with. She hadn’t earned her reputation as a savvy businesswoman by letting people walk all over her.

She took a seat at her new desk, finding the chair to be as comfortable as it looked. But the office itself was cold and impersonal. Since she would be spending at least six months here, it wouldn’t hurt to bring a few photos and personal items into work.

She opened the laptop and booted it up. On the desktop were the documents he had mentioned. Convinced this job couldn’t get any worse, she opened the one titled Duties. Starting at the top, she read her job description, working her way down the two-page, single-spaced list, her stomach sinking lower with each line, until she could swear it slipped all the way down near the balls of her feet. Personal assistant, my foot.

She had just agreed to be Charles Frederick Mead’s indentured slave.

Two

Charles sat at his desk, watching the time tick by on his Rolex. He gave Victoria five minutes before she stormed into his office in a snit about her employment duties. And he’d bet his ample net worth that she’d forget to call first.

For a woman with her education and experience, the backward step from managing a five-hundred-room hotel to the duties of a personal assistant would be tough to navigate. If it were up to him, he’d have found her a position in the hotel. But it wasn’t his call. His cousins, King Phillip and Prince Ethan, were calling the shots.

The Houghton Hotel hadn’t been acquired under the best of circumstances—at least, not for the Houghton family—and the royal family needed to know if Victoria was trustworthy before they allowed her into the fold. The logical way to do that was to keep her close.

He could see that she was still distraught over the loss of their hotel and property, but, sadly, the buyout had been inevitable. If not the Royal Inn, some other establishment would have swooped in for the kill. At least with the royal family they were given a fair deal. Other prospective buyers, with less interest in the country’s economy, might have been far less accommodating. But it was possible that Victoria and her father, Reginald Houghton, didn’t see it that way. But at the very least, she could show a little bit of gratitude. The royal family had saved them the embarrassment of both professional and personal financial devastation.

He’d barely completed the thought when his phone rang. Three short chirps, indicating the call originated from Victoria’s office. She remembered.

He glanced at his watch. She was early. Only three and a half minutes.

He answered with a patient, “Yes, Victoria.”

“I’m ready to discuss my duties,” she said, and there was a distinct undertone of tension in her voice that made him grin.

“That was quick,” he said. “Come on in.”

The door opened a second later, and she emerged, a look on her face that could only be described as determined. For a woman her size, barely more than a nymph, she had a presence that overwhelmed a room. A firestorm of attitude and spunk packed neatly into a petite and, dare he say, sexy package. He usually preferred women with long, silky hair—and typically blond—but her shorter, warm brown, sassy style seemed to fit her just right.

He wasn’t typically drawn to strong-willed women, but Victoria fascinated him. And he wouldn’t mind at all getting to know her better. Which he would, despite what she seemed to believe. It was a simple fact: women found him irresistible. It was exhausting at times, really, the way women threw themselves at him. He didn’t help matters by encouraging them. But he just couldn’t help himself. He loved everything about women: Their soft curves and the silky warmth of their skin. The way they smelled and tasted. In fact, when it came to the female form, there wasn’t a single thing he didn’t adore.

This time, he had his sights set on Victoria. And he had yet to meet a woman he couldn’t seduce.

“You have questions?” he asked her.

“A few.”

He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Let’s hear it.”

She seemed to choose her words very carefully. “I assumed my duties would be limited to more of a…secretarial nature.”

“I have a secretary. What you’ll be doing is handling every aspect of my private affairs. From fetching my dry cleaning to screening my e-mail and calls. Making dinner reservations and booking events. If I need a gift for a friend or flowers for a date, it will be your responsibility to make it happen. You’ll also accompany me to any business meetings where I might require you to take notes.”

She nodded slowly, and he could see that she was struggling to keep her cool. “I understand that you need to fill the position, but don’t you think I’m a little over-qualified?”

He flashed her a patient and sympathetic smile. “I realize this is quite a step down from what you’re used to. But as I said before, until the second phase opens…” He shrugged, lifting his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “If it’s any consolation, since my last assistant left, my life has been in shambles. There will be plenty to keep you busy.”

For a second she looked as though she might press the issue, then thought better of it. It wasn’t often anyone outside of the family contradicted him. It was just a part of the title.

She spared him a stiff, strained smile. “Well, then, I guess I should get started.”

He was sure that once she got going, she would find managing his life something of a challenge. He wished he could say the same for seducing her, but he had the sneaking suspicion it would be all too easy.