Page 6 of The Billionaire's Secret
“Wait.Where’s Mr.Montclair now?”
“In his office.Go introduce yourself.”
I turn and reluctantly move toward the doors.Lion’s den, here I come.I knock softly, then enter when I’m told to.
Locke Montclair stands before a row of windows with his back to me.When I step into the office, he angles his head slightly without turning his body.After a long, silent moment, he faces me, and I’m hit with the magnetic appeal of Locke Montclair.
No wonder the panty crew wants access to him.From his expressive eyes to his lips, he’s strikingly handsome.
His thick black hair is slightly damp and a few strands fall across his forehead giving him a tousled look.A gray vest and long-sleeved dress shirt cover his broad shoulders.
The sleeves are rolled up to mid-forearm.I love that look on a man.
His pants are tailored to fit his height and adhere to his body with fitted perfection.He wears the clothing with the confidence of the rich and handsome.Every part of him appeals to me.My assurance that I can handle this, handle him, is dissipating faster than ice left in the sun on a hot Texas day.
I’m still taking in his appearance when his lips curve into a slight smile.Part welcome, part invitation.
“How did you find me?”he asks.
His voice is like a caress spoken between lovers in a bedroom.Rich and deep.Intoxicating.I think I’m in trouble.
“Find you?”
He walks around to the front of the desk to lean against it.“Trust me, Siren.I’m not complaining.I’m curious.I was unable to catch up to you earlier.How did you figure out who I am?”
Confused, I shake my head.“I’m sorry.I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.I’m Salem Middleton.Your new assistant.”
Chapter Three
Locke
Thesirenismyassistant?My lucky fucking day.Sending a huge thanks to my grandmother, I smile at Salem.“Welcome aboard, beautiful.”
Her cheeks flush and she tips her head in acknowledgement of my welcome.Her dark shoulder length hair swings forward and she raises her hand to tuck it behind one ear.
A gold wedding ring glints with the movement.I stare at it, my stomach knotting.I’m hoping it doesn’t mean what it usually does.“You’re married?”
“Mmm,” she murmurs biting her lower lip.
I straighten.A wedding ring.My gut wrenches.How fucking cruel.The siren, this temptation of all temptations, the woman I’d blindly chased after in the rain, is off limits.She’s married.That lucky bastard.
I swing back to the windows, fighting the wildfire attraction racing through my blood.I feel like I’ve taken a punch to the gut and force myself to drag my focus back to work.
“I’ll email the new reports on the resorts I’m overseeing.Go through them quickly and flag service areas that catch your attention.”
“Got it,” she says.
“That’ll be all.”
I wait until she leaves before I turn toward the closed doors.That woman is on the other side of those doors.Beautiful.Tempting.Forever out of reach.
Work.Concentrate on work.I make it through several small tasks, then an email pops up from my grandmother ordering me to visit two of the resorts that have been causing headaches followed by a checklist for Salem.
Here comes the part Oliver warned me about.The travel.I don’t like unknown places.I know it’s because of what I went through, but it still doesn’t chase away the discomfort.
I respond to the email then stand.Looks like I’ll be traveling with my assistant.I can handle it.I’m not tempted enough to cross my self-imposed line.
I stride from the office and approach her desk.How the hell did she get more attractive?
