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Secret Agenda

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Год написания книги
2019
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He'd struck the mother lode with Vivienne as his assistant. She was both smart and socially astute. There was no doubt Sean Gregory was aware of her assets when he married her. But Diego would do what the flashy politician had neglected to do. He intended to capitalize on Vivienne Neal's intelligence, grace and beauty.

Diego winked at the woman standing in his kitchen, a woman who made him laugh and a woman who made him feel things he didn't want to feel. He hadn't known her twenty-four hours, yet felt as if he'd known her forever. It was apparent he'd had to shuck a few oysters before finding that rare pearl. Vivienne had become that exotic rare jewel.

He winked at her. “I can't say I haven't been warned.”

Vivienne returned his wink. “As long as you don't forget, then you'll be all right.”

He shook his head. “You just have to have the last word, don't you?”

She gave him an innocent look. “Yes,” she said after a comfortable pause.

“I think it's time I eat breakfast, so I can go to work where I know I'll always have the last word. Be ready to go out with me this afternoon.”

“What's happening this afternoon?” Vivienne asked.

“I'm taking you shopping. You're going to need a few outfits for this weekend. And while you're there, you can pick up whatever else you want or need.” She lifted her eyebrows at this disclosure. There was no doubt his offer to take Vivienne shopping had surprised her.

“Where is there, Diego?”

“Miami. We'll drive down, shop, hang out long enough to have dinner and then come back.” He glanced at the watch under his cuff. “I'd love to stay and debate you, but I have to leave within the next twenty minutes.”

Vivienne opened her mouth to tell Diego there was a difference between asking a question and debating, but thought better of it. It was no concern of hers if he'd decided to go to Miami to shop when they could've easily gone to Worth Avenue.

When she'd called Alicia to tell her what she thought of her new boss, Alicia had opened up about what she'd read and heard about Diego Cole-Thomas. There were rumors floating around the business world that he was a maverick. And, despite the salacious gossip, Alicia said there was a waiting list for those wanting to work for ColeDiz International Limited.

She recognized that Diego was a complex man, that he didn't like to be questioned or challenged, and she'd done both. If he wanted to take her to Paris for a pair of shoes, then who was she to complain? If she was going to understand half of what made him who he was, then she had to choose when to say something and when it was appropriate to remain silent. Working as Diego Cole-Thomas's personal assistant wasn't going to be a walk in the park, but it wasn't as if the position didn't come with perks.

All of the things she'd wanted to experience with Sean she would share with Diego—fund-raisers, private parties, business dinners and travel. Vivienne didn't need her new position as much as she wanted it. In the two months she'd lived in Florida she'd lost her drive and ambition. She was more than comfortable sitting around and watching early-morning talk shows, afternoon soaps and then afternoon talk shows. If she hadn't cleaned, cooked or done laundry, there was no doubt she would've become a permanent couch potato. It wasn't as if she could even go for an early-morning jog. The extreme Florida temperatures and humidity made it virtually impossible to engage in any outdoor activity for an extended length of time without succumbing to either exhaustion or dehydration. She'd thought about joining a health club but changed her mind when she told Alicia that she was thinking of purchasing a condo with a health club on the premises.

Alicia, not wanting to lose her friend and housemate, told her that she could stay as long as she wanted, but Vivienne had set three months as the maximum length of her stay. There was something to the adage about wearing out one's welcome.

Living in Diego's duplex for the next six months would provide her with a taste of condo living. Once her temporary employment ended she would weigh her options as to whether she'd make Florida her permanent home or return to Connecticut. Her former employer had made it known that if she wanted to come back to work for them, they would make it happen for her.

She smiled at Diego. “Breakfast should be ready in five minutes. Would you like toast?” she asked, pressing a button on the coffeemaker. Then, she flipped a switch to activate the exhaust fan above the stove before turning on the grill.

He nodded. “I'll have one slice of wheat, please.”

“Dry or butter?”

“Butter, please.”

“Where are you going?” Vivienne asked when Diego turned to leave.

He stopped and peered at her over his shoulder. “Do I have your permission to go upstairs to get my suit jacket?”

Heat stung her cheeks as she dropped her gaze. “Yes, you may. And, I'm sorry, Diego—”

“No, you're not, Vivienne,” he countered, frowning. “And, stop apologizing for saying what you mean. I'd rather you tell me exactly what you're feeling rather than deal with half truths. Remember why I hired you.”

“Aside from my qualifications and that I wasn't afraid to mention you had mismatched socks, why did you really hire me?”

Diego gave Vivienne a long, level stare. She'd asked him the very question he'd asked himself when he lay in bed tossing and turning restlessly. His reason for hiring her wasn't physical in nature, because he hadn't planned to sleep with her. Sleeping with his personal assistant would be history repeating itself when Samuel Cole slept with Teresa Maldonado, and the result of the liaison was an illegitimate child that was the reason for discord that lasted decades and became the family's deepest secret.

“I hired you, Vivienne, because I like you.”

Vivienne nodded numbly like a bobble head doll as she watched Diego until he disappeared from her line of sight. I hired you because I like you. She didn't want to read more into his statement, but she couldn't help wondering whether he liked her because she wasn't hesitant to speak her mind, or he liked her the way a man liked a woman. She prayed it was her outspokenness. That would make it a lot easier for her.

She knew she was physically attracted to her boss and that nothing would come from it since it would compromise their working relationship. It would be a lot easier if he wasn't so attractive and she wasn't so sexually frustrated.

In the four years she'd been married, not once had she considered having an affair, although some women in a similar situation wouldn't have hesitated to seek out male companionship. Not only had she been the faithful little wife but also the sexually frustrated fool. When she finally admitted to herself that she'd had enough, it was then that she'd decided to do something about it.

It no longer mattered about Sean's political career. It was her emotional health that was paramount. As a woman aware of her strong sexual passions, she either had to end her marriage or cheat. Thankfully she hadn't had to cheat, nor had she wished Sean dead. It was not that she didn't love him, because she did. It was that she'd fallen out of love with him.

Minutes later, the smell of frying bacon, brewing coffee and eggs filled the kitchen. Vivienne carefully slid two eggs, over easy, onto a plate for Diego then added a slice of buttered toast and bacon. She'd set the plate down at his place setting when he returned to pull out her chair. She sat down, and he rounded the table to sit across from her. She waited for him to pick up his fork and spear a portion of eggs. Their gazes met while he chewed. For an instant, there was a glint of humor in his eyes.


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