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      Dear Reader,

      Zoe Bravo is beyond tired of being called the ‘free spirit’ of the family. She wants a job that holds herinterest and she wants to gain her family’s respect. Working as billionaire bachelor Dax Girard’s assistant seems perfect. Constant variety, travel to exotic locations and a chance to get a start in magazine publishing. What’s not to love?

      Well, the boss first of all—yes, he’s dreamy and all the women are after him. But when it comes to his assistant, he wants to keep things strictly professional. That’s fine with Zoe. The last thing she’s after is a hot date with Dax. If only she could convince everyone else in the office that there is no way she’ll be like all his other assistants. She will not be falling for the boss. But then again, Dax is a very exciting man. And when he looks at her with those bedroom eyes of his, well, sometimes it’s hard to remember that it’s the job that matters. Sometimes it’s hard not to yearn for one long, tender kiss. Sometimes it’s hard not to wonder if Dax might be trying to tempt her into breaking the rules he made in the first place …

      Happy reading everyone,

       Christine Rimmer

      About the Author

      CHRISTINE RIMMER came to her profession the long way around. Before settling down to write about the magic of romance, she’d been everything from an actress to a sales clerk to a waitress. Now that she’s finally found work that suits her perfectly, she insists she never had a problem keeping a job—she was merely gaining ‘life experience’ for her future as a novelist. Christine is grateful not only for the joy she finds in writing, but for what waits when the day’s work is through: a man she loves, who loves her right back, and the privilege of watching their children grow and change day to day. She lives with her family in Oklahoma. Visit Christine at www.christinerimmer.com.

      For you, the reader.

      May your holiday season be filled with love and light

      and the joy of family togetherness.

      Chapter One

      “Can I lay it right out for you?” Dax Girard asked.

      Sitting across his wide black desk from him, Zoe Bravo answered earnestly, “Yes, of course. Please do.” She did want this job. She wanted it bad. She had things to prove—to herself and to her family.

      He arched a straight dark eyebrow. “You’re really pretty.”

      Oh, please. Was he going to hit on her? Right here, during the interview? Euuu.

      He wasn’t finished. “And if I were to meet you under other circumstances, I would be only too happy to have sex with you. But I need good staff, above all. So I have a house rule. You work for me, that’s all you do with me.”

      Zoe stifled a burst of inappropriate laugher and sat up straighter in the chair. Somehow, she managed to reply with a straight face, “Seriously, it’s not a problem. I’ve known you for what, two minutes?”

      Had that sounded sarcastic? Maybe a little.

      But he had just told her he wouldn’t sleep with her—when she hadn’t even asked him to. He deserved a dose of attitude.

      If he noticed the edge to her tone, he let it pass. “I think your mother is a wonderful woman.”

      “She certainly is.” Zoe’s mom, Aleta Randall Bravo, was from an old San Antonio family. Aleta knew everyone, including the great adventurer and magazine publisher Dax Girard. It was her mom who had recommended her to Dax for this job, which meant Dax would most likely want to give Zoe a chance. People generally tried to please her mom. And not only because of the social connection thing either. There was something about Aleta that made you like her—and want her to like you.

      He said, “And you seem … bright. I have a good feeling about you. I want to make this work.”

      “Great,” Zoe answered, trying to sound positive and upbeat. “I do, too.”

      “But I just need to have this clear with you, straight from the gate. Sex is absolutely off the table.”

      She didn’t groan—but she really, really wanted to. Enough about sex already. How many times did she have to promise not to put a move on him?

      Okay, yeah. He was hot—in that rich-guy, lean, preppy way. He looked like he played a lot of tennis. He probably jogged with his shirt off and gave all the women he wasn’t going to have sex with a thrill.

      And she’d heard the stories about him, about how women found him irresistible. But not Zoe. She wanted a job, not a hot date. “I promise you, Dax. I’ll manage to control myself. Somehow.”

      A long pause ensued. Zoe tried to look calm and competent and unconcerned while he stared at her steadily, his sexy, deep brown eyes narrowed. Probing. Apparently, he found it impossible to believe that she wouldn’t try and jump his bones at the earliest opportunity.

      But then, at last, he dipped his handsome head of thick, wavy sable hair to study her résumé again. “Let’s see here. You were on the campus papers at two colleges. You type ninety words a minute, you know Microsoft Office.”

      “Backward and forward, yes.”

      “You’ve been to UT, Stanford and Brandeis, I see, majoring in Journalism and English.”

      “So I know how magazine publishing works. Also, my spelling and punctuation skills are solid. I know my grammar.” What else could she say? Not too much about college. Yes, she’d attended the best schools. Too bad she’d never actually graduated from any of them. She was bright and she learned fast. But she’d always been … easily distracted, eager for the next life experience. And impatient with mundane activities like regularly attending classes and plodding through her assignments. She threw in, “I thrive in a fast-paced environment and I’m very much at home with multitasking.”

      “All good.” He glanced up at her. “I understand you’re also an excellent amateur photographer, right?” His gaze was probing again. Was this a trick question?

      She met his eyes levelly. “I enjoy photography, yes. It’s a hobby of mine.”

      “I believe I saw some of your work at the Texas State Endowment Ball and Auction last month, didn’t I?”

      “I suppose you did. I shot the pictures and the short film presentation for the chopper you won.” He’d bid six figures on the custom motorcycle, which had made the Texas State Endowment