Highly Unsuitable. Кейт Хьюит
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gaze flew to his and locked there. ‘I don’t want to give up this job.’ For a moment she looked panicked, but then she stuck her chin out in clear challenge. ‘Despite my eminent replaceability, which you’ve made more than clear, I happen to like my role as your assistant. I even believe I do it rather well.’
She was good at her job. She’d been very efficient, these past months, while Janice recovered from her car accident that had almost killed her. Had he threatened Claire with a return to the clerical pool simply to make her agree to marry him? He didn’t want to think he could be that calculating, but was there a tiny possibility?
No. Only desperate people behaved that way, and Nicholas Monroe didn’t get desperate. He hadn’t done so when his middle-aged assistant had almost up and died on him, and he certainly wasn’t desperate about Claire, either. She suited his purposes, that was all. He thrust the thoughts from him.
‘Then you stay on.’ At least until they married. For one thing, he wanted her where he could see her, touch her, whenever and however he pleased. She would have to get used to that, to accepting his acts of possession. ‘I think that will work very well.’
‘I…uh…’ She cleared her throat. ‘Okay.’
He let his gaze wander blatantly over her, his desire a blaze that heated his skin, that made him prickle and itch beneath the conservative constraints of the suit. Sex and companionship. That was what they would share.
It would be a good marriage. A smart one. Between two well-suited people. ‘We’ve discussed this enough for now. Let me know if there are any problems arranging our lunch with the Forresters.’
‘I will.’ She gave a cool nod and tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her left ear, but a pulse beat sharp and strong at the base of her throat.
She wanted him as much as he wanted her, and the thought pleased him. Immensely. This was what it was all about. ‘Thank you, Claire. That’s all for now.’
‘Okay.’ A cautious smile touched her full lips. Her mouth was unconventionally wide, her nose slightly too strong to meet the stereotype of typical femininity. He rather liked both aspects. He also liked it when she smiled for him.
Smile, pant, gasp. He wanted it all—and why not? She would soon be his wife.
Nicholas allowed himself a second satisfied smile, careful to turn his back first, so she didn’t see it. Then he turned his mind back to business. Because Monroe’s was, after all, about business.
Marriage proposals aside, work was what made Nicholas Monroe tick.
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