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She closes it and flashes me a smile when she sees me.
“What are you doing?”
“I was just finishing my notes,” she says.
I shove my hands into my pockets. “In my rule book?”
“I’ve given that some thought, and since I’m working for you, I believe it’s our rule book, and I thought I should jot a few rules down, too.”
Since I’m not sure I like the sound of that, I change direction. “I heard a crash.”
She crinkles up her nose—her freckles are more prominent now that she’s spent time in the sun. “Sorry, broke a plate. You can take it out of my pay, like the last couple I broke.”
“I told you I’m not going to do that.”
She puts the end of the pen in her mouth, nibbles a little and says, “I’ve given that some thought, too. I made notes in the book on how I could repay you, sir.”
Jesus, she’s fucking with me. I’m sure of it.
“How’s that?”
She just grins and says, “Your lunch is made. It’s in the fridge. The wind has finally died down, so I thought I’d take my hour lunch break and go for a swim.”
“Don’t forget your water shoes,” I say. I went into town yesterday with Khloe to stock the fridge and pantry, and we picked her up a pair of shoes as well as a few new one-piece bathing suits and a couple of cover-up dresses.
“I do need to pay you back for the shoes and all the clothing. But it’s all outlined in the book.” She taps the leather cover, giving me a small grin that pushes all my buttons.
I make my way to the fridge, pull the door open and find a sandwich and salad. “Have you eaten?” I ask. “We could sit on the deck...”
She wipes the back of her hand across her forehead. “I’m not hungry yet. I’ll grab something after my swim.”
I curse the disappointment in my gut. Dammit, I shouldn’t be trying to find ways to hang around her longer. I should be trying to find ways to avoid her.
“I’ll just eat in my office,” I grumble, and keep my head down.
“Whatever you prefer, sir.”
“Khloe,” I say around a thick tongue. “Call me Will.”
I snatch up my lunch and make my way to my office. I toss the sandwich down and catch a glimpse of Khloe on her way to her bedroom to change. I’m pretty sure the new suits will look amazing on her killer body, and damned if I don’t want to sneak a peek. Her soft humming sounds reach my ears as she makes her way to the door. It opens, closes with a soft click, and my dick urges me to head outside to enjoy the show.
I bite into my sandwich and shake my head. How the hell can anyone screw up a turkey sandwich? I peel it open to see that she used mustard instead of mayonnaise. I’m beginning to believe she didn’t read the rule book at all.
I toss it aside, my appetite dissolving, as a new kind of hunger takes up residence in my body. I push my chair back, my heart thumping a little faster.
Don’t do it, Will. Don’t give in to temptation.
Then I remember what Tate said. I need to get laid. The man’s not wrong. What is wrong is sleeping with the help.
Unless she wants that, too...
I jump up and make my way to the kitchen. The rule book sits on the table where Khloe left it, like she wanted me to flip through it. Who am I to disappoint? I scoop it up and run my thumb over the leather as I step out onto the deck. The warmth of the day falls over me, and I scan the beach for Khloe. Her head pops from the green water as she leisurely swims in the bay.
I pull out a chair, sit and flip the book open. I leaf through the pages with my writing and stop when the script changes. I settle myself to read, but the first line has me sitting up a little straighter, sweating a little harder.
This...this is what Khloe’s been up to? I take a couple of deep breaths before I begin to read her rules. And from the title alone, I’m ready to blow my load.
Ten Rules for Sleeping with Your Assistant:
