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“This way, Miss Parks.”
Clicking heels follow me towards my second home. Many nights spend on the sleeper sofa instead of in my penthouse. The empty bed Syd and I shared feels cavernous, and loneliness prevents me from relaxing my nervous system.
My feet turn, and I smile when we reach the room’s threshold. The grin is one part angel and one part danger. Her hands rest on her hips and plump pink lips are frowning. Desire surges through my blood as we stand in a faceoff. Anger and passion look seductive on my new assistant’s face.
I’m wearing down her defenses as I step close, and her breathy sigh escapes. Miss Parks is testing my resolve to remain professional, and she’s unafraid to question me.
For a split second, I hesitate and consider sending her home. My heart’s off-limits to women. The protection mechanism spares me further pain. Then I notice. Her legs are trembling as her fingers splay along her hips. The atmosphere is explosive.
“Please stay. I respect your skills, Miss Parks, and I’m enjoying your company.”
3
Penelope
I feel sincerity bleed from his tempting brown eyes and nod my head yes. I wonder why he’s working on Christmas Eve and not sipping champagne with a supermodel.
Bentley’s six-feet-something-inches of ripped muscles in an Armani custom black suit. Dark chestnut hair frames his chiseled jaw, and his Calvin Klein cologne smells intoxicating. I inhale.
My eyes glance around the impersonal space, noting there’s not a single holiday decoration. Traveling home to Minneapolis wasn’t in my budget, and my parents live a frugal lifestyle. Mom and Dad struggle with high blood pressure and their weight thanks to a diet heavy in dairy and meat. Being unable to care for them daily feeds my internal guilt.
“The paperwork shouldn’t take longer than a few hours. I’m sure you have a partner waiting at home.”
Bentley’s observant, noticing my lowered eyes as he leads me towards a conference table. I brush my bare arms as goosebumps race across my skin. Last year I was being kissed under the mistletoe by a man I thought was forever.
“My family lives in Minneapolis. I’m saving for plane fare.”
“Doesn’t anyone look after you? Traveling without a winter coat is a health risk, and those heels aren’t suitable for snow.”
“Not your concern, Sir. But no. No boyfriend.”
He frowns as he removes the Armani jacket. Six-pack abs are clear underneath the form-fitting white Oxford. How odd for a boss on a one-day gig to take this level of interest in a temp. A warm coat places over my shoulders and he waits for me to place my arms in the sleeves.
“Thanks.”
“You’re most welcome.”
“Black is an odd color for a Christmas tie, Sir.”
My thighs squish together as he squints his eyes and stares with intensity. I may faint from the wave of testosterone blanketing my body.
“Not your concern.”
Behind his intimidating identity, I see sorrow flash across his stoic face. There’s a reason he’s alone, and that he’s banishing all signs of hope and cheer.
“Two documents need completing for a ten a.m. emergency hearing.”
He pulls out a chair in front of an iMac computer and waits for me to sit. My ass squirms to settle in the seat as his arms surround me and he enters the password. The Lawcus program opens, and he notes several unfinished docs. His heated breath issues instructions near my ear.
“The data’s in this manilla folder. Drop the completed forms on my device before printing so I can verify the details.”
“Yes, Sir.”
My fingers shake as I double click the first document. He’s standing too close for me to concentrate, and I’m basking in the sexual attraction. I scan the online details and my stomach twists. The father of two young children is asking for an emergency addendum for full custody. He found the mother unconscious at her home and suspects a drug overdose. The man called 911 and drove the toddlers to his parent’s house.
I’m surprised Bentley took this case. Given the addresses listed, the family lives in a low-income housing community. They can’t afford his thousand-dollar per hour rate. My boss may have a generous heart hiding underneath his sorrow and pain.
An incoming call sends Bentley striding behind a large mahogany desk. His authoritative voice challenges the caller and states the billable hours are to be categorized as Pro Bono. Compassion blooms through my chest at my boss’s generosity.
