AllFreeNovel
Share Us
1
Whatever you do, don't sleep with Luc.The warning from Mr. Charles Montague, the man who hired her to be a glorified nanny, rang in Kira Jones’ ears as she knocked again on the bronze door of one of NYC's most exclusive penthouses. The knocks reverberated through her, the tall double doors dwarfing her. She drew in a breath and squared her shoulders.
Convincing the doorman she was authorized to go in had been a task. Though the man was probably used to an array of women in and out of Luc Beauford’s place in the short week he’d arrived from France.
Cold sweat slicked her palms. A lot was riding on this assignment. Mr. Montague would reward her handsomely, which meant she’d be able to help Poppy pay for the loan shark who had been threatening them. Poppy had through suffered a bad car accident a few months before and, desperate and without health insurance, borrowed money to pay her rehabilitation.
Thankfully Poppy, her beloved cousin and one of her roommates, was all better now. But if they didn’t pay the loan shark back soon, they would have a limb or two broken—or missing.
Kira smoothed her hand on her shirt. Focus on the task. According to the pictures she'd seen online and the reputation preceding him, Luc was a sex devil in the flesh. He had a pair of hazel eyes that seemed to always mock the photographer. If eyes could talk, his spoke in velvety French, to seduce the poor women weak enough to fall for his dangerous charms.
His father’s warning came to mind. Who did he think she was? Some flimsy, naïve teenager who fanned herself at the nearness of Luc? Kira snorted. She’d been that girl before, but not anymore. She learned the hard way that hot men were trouble.
Her phone buzzed in her bag. She fished it out to read a message from Poppy. Call me when you get this.
Shaking her head, she slipped it into her bag again. She’d call Poppy as soon as she handled Luc. If she called her now, Luc would be late for the PR meeting already scheduled at Montague Corp.
Another buzz. Curiously, she grabbed the phone again, and glanced at the screen. Mom. Honey, I can’t wait to see you for our wedding anniversary next month. You’re flying in, aren’t you?
Kira stopped in her tracks, a lump of uneasiness forming in her throat. She caressed the screen for a moment before carefully putting it in her bag again. She loved her parents, but they sure could be clueless at times.
How did her mom expect her to attend the celebration of their 50th wedding anniversary when her sister Shelby would be present? Her heart skipped a beat. A sister who had stolen Kira’s then boyfriend Andrew from her.
Get to work, lady.Musing over Shelby’s constant borrowing everything Kira put her hands on wouldn’t pay the bills. A twinge of guilt came down on her as she remembered the very first time her sister needed her, when Shelby had leukemia at six years old, and her parents had gotten pregnant with Kira so she’d be the savior sibling. Even though Kira had been a baby when she’d donated her umbilical cord blood to her sister, she carried the commodity label her entire life. Like when she had to give up her piano lessons because they didn’t suit the schedule for Shelby’s dance class. Almost like she’d been designed to make Shelby’s existence easier, instead of having her own.
A pang of resentment stabbed at her. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t get her anywhere. Kira knocked again, harder, and this time the sound echoed in the well-appointed foyer leading to the private elevator.
Wasn’t that why she moved to New York City with her cousins? To stand on her own feet and forget about the mess back home? To be her own woman and have her own business? She wanted to show her family she could do it, but most of all, she wanted to show herself.
Kira retrieved the key from her pocket and twisted it in the door handle. Why didn't he answer her calls or texts? That would have made things so much easier.
Not only was she to meet Luc in person for the first time, she’d have to bring him bad news about the scandal. Being Luc’s assistant during his transition to US living definitely meant she’d babysit a misbehaving thirty-four-year-old billionaire.
Well, she’d have no problem handling the man as long as his father kept his part of the bargain. If she excelled at her position, she’d be paid a handsome bonus and guaranteed a permanent position at Montague Corp. No more unreliable temp jobs. She’d be able to pay at least a chunk of the money Poppy owed and get that creep off their backs—hopefully that’d make him happy until Kira received the rest of the money to pay him the remaining amount and get rid of him forever. Then she’d start saving to open her a temp agency one day. Andrew would be sorry he left her for her sister—double bonus.
Shaking her head, she glanced at the enormous living area filled with leather sofas, shelves and art pieces that probably cost three times as much as her yearly salary. The majestic view of the Empire State Building almost seduced her and tricked her into opening the French doors leading to the balcony.
“Luc Beauford?” she called. She drew in a breath. “I'm Kira Jones, your new assistant.”
She pondered, looking at the curvy set of stairs. Crap. Barging in like this was so not her style. But she had a job to do. She scurried up the flight of stairs, and when she made it to the second floor, she smoothed her hands over her skirt. She should have worn a pencil skirt but she preferred a looser look, opting for the beige blouse and long black skirt. Her sister would laugh at her choice, which in this case was an asset. Not that a man like him would find her attractive any time of day. Just in case, though, she uglified her somewhat decent but not fashion forward style.
The only open door was the one at the end of a hallway. She called his name again, louder, and walked up to that room, tapping her sensible shoes on the polished hardwood floor. Her phone buzzed again, but this time, she didn’t dare look.
Kira entered the large space, doing a quick inventory of the dark gray walls and silver accents. When her gaze found the massive four poster bed, her breath caught in her throat and she blinked several times. But blink after blink, the image in front of her remained the same.
Luc slept on the bed with a sheet covering his legs and not much else. Naked.She swallowed hard.
It was him, right? She recognized the black hair flowing over his face, covering it. Her gaze slid down and feasted on the smooth tanned back. Some muscles shifted as he breathed steadily, and she continued her visual exploration, this time admiring his smooth butt.
Wow. Perfect narrow hips that could have been sculpted by Rodin or another legendary artist from his home country. They were meaty and dare she say—perky? Damn. Luc Beauford had the champagne of asses.
She leaned closer and tapped his shoulder. “Mr. Beauford. Wake up.”
He responded with a grumble, followed by turning his head the other way. She kneeled next to the bed and pressed her fingers into his back. “Luc Beauford. I’m Kira Jones, your new assistant. I have news.” Some news. She blew her bangs. “Bad news.”
Silence.
Really, what would it take to wake up the Chris Hemsworth of butts? Maybe a bucket of cold water. Kira scratched her chin, her gaze feasting on his backside one more time. I need some cold water too.
