Authors: Lynda Chance
Bedded by the Boss
By: Lynda Chance
Bedded by the Boss: Book Three of Louisiana Liaisons
When Renee Guillot starts her new job with better pay and benefits, she thinks her only worry will be a lack of job security. Little does she know she will be working for the Devil Incarnate. Suddenly, she is tossed into a world of sexual coercion and dangerous temptation.
Robert Thibodeaux can't be bothered with the mundane details of hiring his own secretary. So when his new employee shows up for work, one look is enough to know it will never work out. Getting her out of his office and into his bed isn't an easy maneuver. But that is exactly what he wants, and it is only a matter of time before he makes it happen.
Bedded by the Boss
Copyright © 2011 by Lynda Chance
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
Thanks for Galveston County; home at last
Renee Guillot balanced one high heel on the chair and one knee on the counter while reaching up and digging through the top cabinet looking for a box of manila folders. She clutched a cordless phone in one hand as she precariously reached up higher with the other. Her calf muscles flexed and strained as the heel of her shoe came off the chair as she lifted onto her tiptoes.
As soon as her ninety-day trial period was over, she swore the first thing she was going to do was reorganize the whole office. The filing system was backwards, the ordering process was antiquated, and the damn storage system was ridiculous. Mrs. Argenot was extremely kind-hearted, but she was getting very old.
Get off that damn chair before you kill yourself
." Renee heard the bark and grabbed the cabinet door. Her nerves shot to hell when she recognized the voice. She didn't even know he was in the city, let alone the building. Damn it! He was supposed to be in New Orleans all week.
There was ferocious intensity in his command and Renee decided not to antagonize him further. She tossed the box down and carefully placed her other foot on the chair. Great. Now she was leaning over with her butt in the air pointed toward him. She continued down and off the chair as gracefully as she could with four-inch heels and a pencil skirt that ended five inches above her knees. It was one of her favorite outfits, but she had only worn it because he was not supposed to be in Baton Rouge this week.
Robert Thibodeaux savagely controlled the primal emotions gripping him. Renee Guillot was a serious mistake and he had realized it the first time he met her five weeks before. Her physical perfection was bad enough, but the earthiness that pulsed from her body had a provocative effect on him that wouldn't let up. The woman was sexy, no question about it. Sexy in a way that was giving him no respite, day or night.
As Renee slowly turned to face him, she admonished herself for letting him get to her. He was like any other man.
Any other boss.
She absolutely refused to think about his astounding good looks. He had no impact on her. Absolutely none. She wouldn't allow it.
She was just about to speak when the phone in her hand started ringing.
. She needed something to occupy her for a few moments while she tried to regain control. She pressed the talk button and lifted the phone to her ear. "Thibodeaux Construction. Renee speaking."
"This is Jane Thibodeaux. I need to speak to my husband, please." The voice on the other end of the line was breathy and held not a trace of Louisiana accent. Renee knew she was talking to East Coast upper crust.
Renee forced good cheer into her voice. "Just one moment please, Mrs. Thibodeaux. I'll get him for you."
She looked back at her boss, standing quietly watching her with displeasure on his face. She cleared her throat and looked away. "Your wife needs to speak to you." She lifted the phone in his direction.
His face darkened with irritation. He crossed his arms over his chest and made no move to pick up the phone. "My ex-wife. I'm not married.
I haven't been married for five years."
The words were both accusing and menacing.
Renee suddenly heard a roaring sound in her ears and she started to shake. Both relief and distress consumed her.
She slowly lifted her eyes back to his and was immediately caught by the impact of his stare. She sucked in a breath. His eyes held hers. One second, two seconds, three seconds, four--
She lowered her lashes as tension continued to grip her.
There would be repercussions for this knowledge.
The phone was taken from her hand. Renee felt mild hysteria clawing its way up her throat. She leaned against the supply cabinet.
Robert's deep voice intruded into the maelstrom of emotions rushing through her. "What do you want, Jane?" His voice was sharp, punctuated with impatience. His eyes were still on Renee, moving slowing up and down her length. "You'll get the damn check on the first of the month, and not a day before. You have a problem with that, call your lawyer." He ended the call.
Robert turned his full attention back to his new secretary. She was standing still in front of the storage cabinet and looked like she might snap in two. "You thought I was married." It was a statement. "Why?"
Renee was dismayed to be feeling so much confusion. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. She tried to form an answer. "When you hired me, Mrs. Argenot said--"
He cut her off. "Let's get one thing straight. I didn't hire you. Mrs. Argenot hired you."
Renee watched him with trepidation. What did he mean by that? Why the distinction? "O-Okay. When sh-she hired me, she explained about your phone calls. Which ones are urgent, and which are n-not." She finished in a rush. "She said you always wanted to know when Mrs. Thibodeaux called."
"Yeah. I like to stay one step ahead of the greedy bitch." As Robert answered, a flash of understanding came to him.
The way Renee had treated him Friday night when he ran into her at the Ninth Street Wine Grotto. The encounter had struck a nerve. He had consumed one too many, and the fierce restraint he always imposed in her presence had slipped a notch.
He remembered feeling a stroke of luck at finding her alone in the bar where she was waiting for her friends to show up. The silkiness of her hair when he reached out and stroked it. The distress on her face when he bought her a drink.
And the accusation in her eyes just before she jumped up and ran from him. Like he was lower than slime. A despicable human being. Like he wanted to have a ménage with her mother. Or make her watch him masturbate in the men's room. Or like he was…
Two things were clear to him. She couldn't continue to work for him, and he had to have sex with her. In that order.
He had to run her off. Make her leave his employ. And when that was accomplished, she would become the starring attraction in his bed.
He considered the ways he could reach his goal. The situation could blow up into a major catastrophe if he wasn't careful. He
simply terminate her employment. She still had about eight more weeks of her ninety day probation period. He could just tell her it wasn't working out and that would be that. He had that right as her employer. But he wanted it to be her decision. That would make a smoother segue into his bed. A vision of what she would look like, naked, with that blonde hair loose all around her came to him. Wearing those
come fuck me heels
and nothing else. Blood rushed to his groin. Fuck. He had been in a state of constant arousal for five weeks.
What the hell had Mrs. Argenot been thinking? He never would have hired somebody that looked like her. Never in a million fucking years. He liked to think of himself as a fair and responsible employer. But
, he wasn't a saint. Having her in the same office, having to work with her side by side, and never getting to touch her was never going to work for the long term. Short term was killing him.
The woman was fine, no question about it. She was five or six inches over five feet, and she wore those
's all the time. They brought her height up to a very respectable level. She was slender and toned, and the picture of her calf muscles was still in his head from a few moments before. Her hair was long and blonde and came half way down her back, and her face could stop traffic.
She was a
. A siren. A vamp, a witch. His gut was tied in knots, and there was no way in hell he was moving on with his life before the ink was dried on this deal. He was going to screw her, and the only question was when.
A week later, Renee thought she was quietly going insane. The first five weeks of this job had been bad, but the last week had been agony. Her boss snapped at her constantly. He told her she was late when she wasn't. He complained that her work was sloppy, when she knew it was impeccable.
If she didn't need the extra money and benefits so badly, she would have quit and gone back to her old position. They still wanted her. Her old boss called her like clockwork every Monday morning to check up on her and tell her that her job was still hers if she wanted it.
It was a safety net in a highly volatile situation. Things had gotten so bad here that on Monday she had actually hinted to her old boss that it might not be working out. It probably wasn't fair to keep them hanging, but a girl had to think of herself first. God knows she didn't have anybody else to take care of her. Her daughter, Brittany, was in her first year at LSU. College was expensive. Thank goodness, her kid was smart and had won a
award from the state for tuition. But room and board were killing her! Brittany wanted the full college experience and that included living on campus. Renee wanted her to have it since she deserved it for all her hard work, and Renee didn't want her to miss out on what she herself had never gotten to have.
Getting pregnant and having her daughter before the age of twenty had been rough, and the small amount of child support she had received from her ex-husband had been sporadic at best. It had completely dried up the day Brittany graduated from high school. They were on their own now.
Renee heard the click of a door and looked up into the menacing face of Robert Thibodeaux. His impact on her senses was no less disturbing than the first day she met him.
Scratch that. At least then, she thought there was the barrier of a wife to separate them. Now she knew better. She felt like she was tip-toeing around an explosive keg of dynamite.
He stood in the threshold leading to his office, holding a coffee cup in his hand. "What do you call this?" His words were insolent.
"Coffee?" This was how their conversations had gone for the last week. Biting questions. Hesitant, respectful replies. She was handling the situation the only way she knew how. Forty-eight more days. Forty-eight more days. She
beat him at this. But Christ, if she made it through her ninety days, is this how her working life would be? Side-stepping him, trying to ignore the fact he wanted to sleep with her? If she wasn't sure about that before, the night at the Ninth Street Wine Grotto had underlined the fact. He wanted her. But his arrogance was over the top. Was he always such a dick? Or was it just her? She never heard him being anything less than respectful to Mrs. Argenot. What the hell was she setting herself up for? Fighting his lust?