The Garrisons: Parker, Brittany & Stephen: The CEO's Scandalous Affair

Emilio Jefferies nodded to his brother, but his sage-green eyes swept over Parker, his olive complexion darkening just a little. “Parker. Pleasant surprise to see you here.”

Parker doubted that it was pleasant or a surprise, but he did the right thing and introduced the other Jefferies brother to Anna.

“I assume you are both headed to the gala,” Anna said.

“We are,” Emilio acknowledged.

“I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time,” she said.

He nodded and looked at Parker. “How is your family?”

“Fine.” Parker studied the numbers above the door, calculating just how many more seconds he’d have to exchange oxygen with Jordan and Emilio Jefferies.

“Your sisters?” Jordan asked.

Parker speared him with a look. He’d kill either of his sisters if they even talked to these two snakes. “Fine,” he repeated.

“Miss Cross.” Jordan directed his attention back to Anna, ignoring Parker. “Are you in the hospitality industry as well?”

“Anna is my assistant,” Parker said before she could answer, infusing the pride he felt into his voice.

Jefferies notched a knowing eyebrow. “Well, that must be convenient.”

Parker’s fingers twitched with the desire to land something convenient in Jordan Jefferies’s smug face but Anna just relaxed into him, her smile all grace and class. “It certainly is, as Mr. Garrison is so gifted when it comes to mixing business and pleasure.”

Jordan drew back as the door opened, surprise and admiration on his sculpted features. He stepped aside and let Anna out of the elevator first.

“You know I love nothing more than taking what you want, Garrison,” Jordan murmured to Parker under his breath.

“And I love nothing more than making sure you don’t.”

“Then you’d better hold on to your assistant.”

“I plan to.”

“And everything else,” Emilio added with a smile that looked more like a sneer.

Parker gave them both venomous looks, then muscled past to walk Anna through the Ritz lobby. They didn’t speak until they’d been whisked through the doors and cocooned into a waiting limousine.

“That was the perfect way to handle them,” Parker said as he handed her a bubbling glass of champagne the driver had just poured.

Anna accepted it, and tilted her head. “Why, thank you, Mr. Garrison.”

She’d used the name on purpose, he had no doubt. Flashing her a victorious grin, he leaned closer and brushed her lips with his.

“Next time,” he whispered against her lips, “it’s a French kiss.”

“Thanks for the warning.” The crystal clinked. “Parker.”

He sipped the champagne, admired his beautiful date and imagined just how many times he could get her to call him Mr. Garrison in the next few hours.

In no time at all, Anna surrendered.

How could she not? No woman could resist the magic of a magnificent, historic banquet hall shimmering with a million candles and a thousand elegantly dressed guests. She just gave in to the music, the moment and, of course, the man. The sounds of a full orchestra reverberated off the carved stone walls of Guildhall and echoed from the grandiose stained glass windows. Laughter, tinkling glasses and chatter vibrated around the well-dressed guests gliding across the glasslike marble floor.

From the moment they’d arrived, Parker teased, flirted, danced and introduced Anna as if she were his most prized treasure, keeping one possessive hand on the small of her back.

As they danced to a ballad, he whispered tidbits about the guests, making her laugh with his insights, impressing her with how well he knew so many of the people in his industry.

“That’s Davis Brookheiser, the owner of that new line of spa resorts out in California,” he said, tilting his head toward an older man who slowly—very slowly—waltzed with an attractive young woman.

“And that’s Davis’s daughter?” Anna asked, letting just a little sarcasm tinge her voice.

He laughed. “That would be the third Mrs. Brookheiser.” Then he frowned a little at the couple. “Maybe the fourth. I’ve lost track of Davis’s trophies.”

As the couple danced by, Anna caught Mrs. Brookheiser staring at Parker over her much shorter husband’s shoulder. But he ignored the obvious attention, keeping his focus on Anna.

“She hasn’t lost track of you,” Anna teased.

He applied a gentle amount of pressure to her back, easing her closer so she could feel the steel muscles of his body and the unmistakable message of desire in his touch.

“No thanks. I’ve got my hands nicely full at the moment.”

Blood rushed through her veins, firing up her nerve endings, making her boneless and light-headed. If he had any idea how many nights she’d put herself to sleep with this very scenario in her imagination. Parker, holding her and making promises with his eyes. Parker, inches from her mouth for a kiss.

Parker.

She took a slow, steadying breath and forced herself to admire the pageantry around her. She had to remember why she was dead set against acting on her attraction. She had to remember why he was all wrong for her.

He’s your boss, dummy.

Yeah. Right. She was having a very difficult time remembering that. At the moment, she could barely remember her own name.

“Just imagine how many royals and prime ministers have danced on this very floor,” she said, leaning away, striving for casual conversation even though the music and the movement were anything but casual.

But her gesture just gave him an opportunity to lower his gaze to her throat, study the V in her neckline and eventually return for a good, long examination of her mouth. Only then did he politely follow her glance around.

“Many, since Guildhall has been hosting high-end affairs since the fourteen hundreds.”

“I guess the association can’t hold this event at a hotel,” she mused. “That would be like playing favorites.”

“Exactly,” he agreed. “This has to remain neutral ground for all the members. See that gray-haired matriarch under the arch? Genevieve Dufresne.”

“The Swiss resort Dufresne?”

He gave her a satisfied smile. “You do pay attention to the business, don’t you? Yes, she is the head of the mighty Dufresne family. So, believe me, there might be a spirit of shared camaraderie since we’re all in similar businesses, but there’s competition in the air.”

“Like in the elevator.”