Forbidden Boss Read online

He’d actually suggested she indulge in all kinds of services before meeting him at the tarmac the next morning.

  Am I really so hideous that I need round-the-clock miracle workers? She couldn’t forget the look he gave her when she put on the first dress at the store… Lucas regarded her as if she were an alien. His face had literally paled. She shouldn’t take it personally, but shit… it stung. Not that she needed him to find her attractive in any way. In fact, she was relieved—yes, relieved—he didn’t want anything to do with her. Not only would it be completely unprofessional, but highly inconvenient. She didn’t need him to toy with her like he did his dates, then get rid of her and fire her on a whim.

  No way did she want to turn out like her mother. She’d lived for crazy, spontaneous romances while neglecting Crystal and her feelings. How many times had Crystal gotten attached to temporary father figures she’d never see again?

  She gave her roll-on suitcase to the man greeting her in front of the small ladder leading up to the private jet. She entered the efficient, comfortable private plane. She’d flown in it before, accompanying Lucas on high-profile trips. This time though… it felt different. They were embarking to a honeymoon resort and at least during a couple of occasions expected to act like a couple.

  “You made it,” he said, yanking his attention from his laptop.

  With his tie undone and the first couple of buttons open, Lucas could be on an ad for an expensive watch or men’s wear. Her heart skipped a beat, to which she attributed the latest events. Not to him, she told herself.

  “Yes, I had to go through endless rounds of beautification but somehow I made it to the finish line. Here I am, barely passable, but hopefully somewhat decent for your impeccable standards,” she said, incapable of being the bigger person she’d told herself she could be.

  He chuckled, a hearty sound that reverberated through her. “You aren’t like any other woman I know, Crystal.”

  “Well, thank you. That compliment seriously made my day,” she said acidly, plopping in a chair opposite to him. An unexpected frustration sneaked up on her. She feigned nonchalance, but why did she care if he hadn’t made one single comment about her makeover? She had to look different. Her freaking neighbor hadn’t even recognized her.

  Lucas could at least acknowledge that she’d endured all kinds of treatments for this deal. Not that she’d expected him to react to her as a man, but even as a boss—and someone on a deal—he could throw her a bone. “I have to tell you, you better act like the world’s best fake boyfriend during my school reunion.” She put on her seat belt. “Because those beauty treatments were brutal.”

  “That bad?”

  “Bad? I agreed to a freaking Brazilian when I had no idea what I was getting into—then it was too late, because the lady waxing me like she was exorcising my crotch didn’t understand English. So she took my shouting as encouragement and kept going.”

  She had never been that bare down there. The sensation was raw against her underwear, one she wasn’t quite used to. Not in a bad way, but definitely new.

  He almost spewed the drink from his mouth. Bet he hadn’t expected her to make a reference to her sex. Like, ever. “Did she offer you some after care cream or something? Sounds painful.”

  “She pressed an ice pack to my vagina,” she said, pretty sure she had never referred to her genitals in conversations she’d shared with Lucas. Though it wasn’t like she was talking about it to seduce him. More to complain, so it should be okay.

  He chugged down the tumbler of scotch. “Did it help?”

  A little. “My point is—this whole thing is a lot of work. Being a billionaire’s girlfriend involves a lot of stuff,” she said. A lot of crap she wouldn’t do for herself, let alone for a man. Besides, the men she dated weren’t into those things. She favored reliable, realistic men to guys who promised her the world and delivered zip. Then why do I end up with the latter anyway?

  He frowned. “And?”

  She smiled inwardly. Why not take advantage of the situation? Sure, Lucas’s dates went through all this beautifying madness. But at least at the end of the day he probably rewarded them with awesome orgasms. The idea tightened her nipples, and her breasts felt oddly heavy and tingly. “And I thought as an incentive for suffering through this unexpected Cinderella transformation, you could donate a good amount of money to a cause I hold near and dear to my heart.”

  Lucas threw his shoulders back, relaxing on his chair. “Sounds fair.”

  She shifted in her seat. “Thanks. Please donate twenty thousand dollars to an organization that helps single mothers going through rough patches. I’ll email you their info.”

  “Consider it done,” he said, winking at her.

  She should feel victorious, but apprehension lodged in her throat. She tried to swallow, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. He stared at her in silence, and specks of gold flickered in the depths of his chocolate irises. Neither of them spoke. She managed to part her lips, but hesitated, trapped in the trance of his gaze. His sexy mouth curved in a small, appreciative smile.

  She sucked in a deep breath, contracting her stomach, urging her body to stop responding to him. Crap. Remember why you’re here. Remember who he is. At last, she let out her breath, slowly, then glanced away, and fumbled with the entertainment system. A tiny voice inside her laughed, hinting that besides her efforts, this trip would be a hell of a lot harder than any other she’d taken with him.

  * * *

  Wow. Brazil.

  She’d come before, accompanying him to São Paulo. Now, the car that picked them up drove them through the highway leaving the big city of Recife behind and into a smaller, remote town where the resort was located.

  This was… certainly different than São Paulo’s concrete jungle.

  Rows of sugar cane crowded both sides of the road as far as the eye could see. She pressed the button to lower the window, and stuck out her head to feel the wind on her face. The moon looked enormous, and humidity began to curl the tips of her hair, but she didn’t care. Maybe she needed the breather, especially after sharing the private jet with Lucas for most of the day.

  “Enjoying the view?” he asked beside her, but she didn’t bother to answer.

  She soaked in the moonshine. By the time she returned to her seat, their sedan had rode through a big entrance of the resort where they’d stay. They drove by beautiful bungalows, and she spotted the enormous wrap-around pool. Though, because of the green sea at the front, she didn’t even know why anyone would bother with a pool.

  He asked her to stay in the car while he checked them in. She acquiesced, and within ten minutes he returned with a puzzled look on his face. He communicated the number of a bungalow to the driver, and within seconds they arrived.

  Lucas tipped the driver, and retrieved the two pieces of luggage from the trunk. When he opened the door for her, she was already reaching for it. She murmured a “thank you” to the driver, and walked in.

  The outside was rustic, but inside the place offered all the amenities anyone would ever want. A huge bed in the middle of the room was the focal point, then part of the floor was glass, where they could see the clear waters of the swimming pool beneath. Petals of red roses shaped a heart on the bed, and a bucket of iced champagne stood on one of the wood nightstands.

  She skimmed the rest of the romantic ambience, like the vanity dresser in front of the bed with a huge oval mirror. A shiver rolled down her spine. This was the place where people chose to go on hot honeymoons and anniversaries. She walked up to a door. Maybe it was the connecting bedroom where she’d sleep.

  She twisted the handle, and let out a surprised gasp when her gaze met an all-white setting, with a ceramic hot tub and stand-in shower. Another door led to the toilet.

  Where the hell was her bedroom? She turned to Lucas. “Something you wanna tell me?”

  He scratched his temple. “They messed up the reservation. Oversold suites. There’s a relationship guru giving a work
shop in the convention center, which attracted a lot of tourists. So right now this is all they have.”

  “Well, we can’t do this. I won’t sleep with you,” she said, her heart racing at the idea of sharing that wickedly large bed with him. Forbidden images of his strong hands on her naked body inundated her mind, but she willed them away, shaking her head.

  He let out a sigh, but kept his expression neutral. “I don’t want to sleep with you. I just want to move forward with the plan. The concierge has my name and will let me know if something becomes available as soon as possible.”

  “Okay,” she said, her self-preservation keeping her from making more assumptions. He didn’t want to sleep with her, and made that clear. During the time she’d worked for him, he’d never made a pass or harassed her in any way. Lucas could have any woman he wanted. Why would he want her?

  She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Why did any of this matter? She clung to rationality like a person in quicksand did to a tree branch to keep from slipping into trouble. I don’t want to sleep with you. His words rang in her ears, provoking the opposite effect of what she wanted—or what she thought she wanted…

  * * *

  Lucas turned up the water to cold. What the hell was happening to him? Fate must be laughing at his expense by placing him in this predicament—sharing a room with an impossibly hot woman he couldn’t touch.

  The resort’s mess-up rubbed him the wrong way. He knew overbookings happened in the hospitality industry, but this one had serious repercussions. Traveling with his assistant and having her help him was one thing. Sleeping under the same roof as her… a lot more complicated.

  Especially after he’d seen her without those godawful clothes she wore. The memory of her in that dress from the shop imprinted in his mind, and the previous night he’d touched himself while thinking of her. He turned the water even colder, and splayed his two hands on the tiled wall, letting the water glide down his body. Seconds turned into endless minutes, but the coldness didn’t simmer his desire. Of course this happened simply because he couldn’t touch her. Wouldn’t.

  He turned off the tap, and grabbed the towel from the rack. After drying himself, another problem arose. What the hell would he wear to sleep in? At home and during hotel stays, he always slept in the nude, hating the sensation of any constraint on his skin. Because he’d anticipated having his own bedroom, he didn’t pack pajamas. Shit.

  “Crystal?” he called, opening the door of the bathroom.

  “Yeah?”

  He heard her, from the sound she wasn’t too far away. “Can you please turn around? I need to grab fresh clothes in my luggage.”

  “Sure.”

  If she weren’t his assistant, he’d love to lose his towel and take her to bed. Taste her. But she was, and he’d already crossed the line by asking her to pose as a platonic significant other. If he pressed harder, she’d run and he wouldn’t blame her.

  He fetched a couple of items and returned to the bathroom, putting his clothes on quickly. He wouldn’t be comfortable tonight—not by a mile—, but at least he’d look decent.

  “What’s that?” She pointed at his jeans and white shirt when he left the bathroom. “Are we going somewhere?”

  He sighed. “No.”

  “Then why are you dressed like this?”

  Damn it. He paced in the room, eyeing the bed as if it were some sworn enemy.

  She lifted her eyebrow, hand perched at her waist, a silent warning that she wouldn’t drop the subject. His feet came to a halt, and he swallowed, pushing down the lump of frustration. All this would be highly inappropriate. He usually enjoyed inappropriate, dirty, provocative. Not in this case. Certainly not with his unexpectedly hot assistant. “I usually sleep in the nude, and since I didn’t plan on sharing a room with you, I didn’t bring pajamas.”

  She withdrew, and her face paled for a moment. “Oh.”

  “Yeah. This is more practical and somewhat keeping it professional.”

  “Sure.” She crossed her arms over her chest. A gleam twinkled in her eyes. “If you’re done, I’ll use the restroom and get ready.”

  “I’ll take the sofa,” he said, pointing at the loveseat. The whole room represented keeping people together, and the furniture kept up with the theme. Everything seemed ready for two, or confining those two together. The red loveseat was a joke. If he stretched, his legs would stick out like paddles in a rowing boat. Curling into the loveseat wouldn’t work out, so his best bet would be to sit and lean over the arm for some semblance of comfort.

  She disappeared into the bathroom, and he used the time to punch a couple of heart shaped pillows. He never believed in karma, but now it made complete sense. He’d pay for his years of debauchery by sleeping with his assistant without really sleeping with her.

  He plopped on his seat and shifted from one side to the other, trying to accommodate himself without much success.

  A soft chuckle pulled his attention, and he glanced at Crystal.

  She’d changed into an elegant nightgown from a soft fabric that had a slit when she walked. The V-neck cut outlined her breasts, and her hips swayed deliciously as she sashayed away from the bathroom.

  She headed for the bed, turned down the covers. “You can’t be serious. You’ll never make it there.”

  “I’ll try.”

  She gave him a knowing look, her dark green eyes twinkling. “Listen, I commend you for doing it. I’m all for being practical. Why don’t we just share this immense bed? You made it obvious you don’t want to sleep with me, and I’ll try to resist your dashing good looks and raw sexuality.”

  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  “Look at this. It’s already uncomfortable. We can, however, act as if we’re on a camping trip or college roommates. Whatever we need to get through the night,” she said matter-of-factly, with the same efficiency she used to make reservations or schedule meetings.

  If she didn’t care, why should he? After a day of flying and the drive to the resort, he refused to worry about it any longer. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Excellent. I’ll take the right side.”

  He claimed the left side, and within a few minutes, turned off his lamp. She joined him on the bed, and besides all her indifference when she’d suggested they share the bed, she drew in a breath. Merda. She probably hated this as much as he did, but for different reasons. Or did she?

  I won’t find out. For once in his fucking life, he was behaving even when circumstances sabotaged his self-control. He inhaled a whiff of her perfume, a flowery fragrance with spicy notes. “Is that a new cologne?” he couldn’t help but ask.

  “I bought it last week,” she said.

  The white drapes didn’t hide the moon outside, casting shadows over the tiled floor. If he turned to her, he’d be able to make out her facial expressions. He kept staring into the darkness between his eyes and the ceiling. Excitement stirred inside him, warning him he could lie to her all night long, but ignoring the signs his body projected to him was a different story.

  His erection strained against his jeans. How could he relief himself? If he disappeared into the bathroom, that’d be suspicious. His temples throbbing, and he wondered when had been the last time he’d felt this aroused and helpless.

  Then, a sound beeped. He glanced at the AC unit popping from the built-in shelf above them. The green light went dark, and air stopped blowing. He turned to check the alarm clock, to find black instead of red numbers. Oh, great.

  “What happened?” she asked, sitting up. He glanced at the shadow of her curvy physique, the way the moonlight outlined her full breasts.

  “Electricity went out,” he said, his throat raw from suppressing the desire for her.

  The air stopped moving, and tension charged between the two of them.

  Fuck. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter 3

  “What did they say?” Crystal asked after Lucas had spoken on the phone in fast Portu
guese with the front desk agent.

  “The rain blew up a cable. They’re working on it, but it’ll take a couple of hours.” There should be a candle and matches in the drawer,” he said, and she watched his large frame move, causing a dent on the mattress. He stretched his hand and grabbed contents from the nightstand drawer.

  What the hell was she going to do? This was getting bad, bad. God. She was in a room with her boss, who had chosen to wear casual clothes because he usually slept naked. The thought sent a thrill of arousal through her. She imagined Lucas Grande in his birthday suit, between silken sheets much like the ones she clutched now. A tremor ran down her spine. Down, girl.

  During her time working as his personal assistant, she’d been able to suppress any unwelcome fantasy that randomly popped in her head about her boss. She reminded herself her mother had had no ethics—even getting involved with one of her middle school teachers once—and that had broken her heart many times over, and Margaret was now lonely and broke. That always suppressed her desire.

  Until today.

  “Crystal?” he called her in that deep, sexy accent. “I only found the candle. Check on your side to see if you find any matches in the drawer.”

  “Right.”

  She scooted closer to the nightstand, and stretched out her arm until her hand clasped the small handle, then pulled it. She rummaged, feeling a thick book she imagined was the bible, then her fingers felt a small square box. She grabbed it. “Found it.”

  Maybe they should just go to sleep and forget about the electricity. Sweat slicked her forehead, a clear message she would toss and turn without a fan or air-conditioning. Opening the doors would only allow the humid air in. Besides, she needed to know at least they had light available if she needed to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

  She returned to her sitting position. He sat next to her. Did she scoot closer this time, in an attempt to return to her spot? Was she… in his spot? That’s why I need to see. “Here, give me the candle,” she asked.