Authors: Jenny Devall
Copyright © 2015
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 publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Riley Adams looked down at the red, fuck-me pumps then back at the man who was the least likely to fuck her. Out of her league was an understatement.
“You’re going to have to practice walking in them,” Dirk Kent said.
He stood in his impeccably tailored suit eyeing her, his hand on his face, where a look of dismay resided. She wasn’t sure she’d get the hang of this either, but this man was paying the bills. She was going to give it her best shot.
His steel blue eyes bored into her, but she wasn’t going to be rattled. At least she was going to try.
“Women wear these?”
“They wear them every day,” he said. Then he wiggled his jet black eyebrows. “Sometimes even to bed.”
She wanted to roll her eyes, but she also wanted to be professional. Dirk Kent was a client. A rich client at that. He ran a company that traded stocks and bonds, and he was worth more money than she cared to think about. Right now he was paying her company to find the traitor in his company. Corporate secrets had been leaked, and he was pissed about it.
Riley had drawn the short straw. Being one of only two women in Hacker Enterprises, she had been picked for the job. Joan, her friend and fellow employee, was due for knee surgery so was unable to perform.
The learning curve on this one would be steep, as she was nowhere near being a fashionista. And this man required a high fashion trophy on his arm. Lucky her. Riley knew about as much about fashion as a monkey knew about the bottom of the ocean.
“And you like these women?”
“I love these women,” Dirk said. From what the society pages said, he loved them often then let them go.
Riley took a deep breath then took a step across the hotel suite Dirk had rented for this liaison. He’d brought clothing in her size for her to try on. And shoes. All of the shoes resembled these torture items presently on her feet. Dirk might owe her a trip to a chiropractor and an orthopedic surgeon at the end of this.
Her usual footwear ranged from sneakers to Birkenstocks. The shoes on her feet now had five-inch heels.
She took another tentative step.
“Don’t stare at your feet,” Dirk said. The impatience in his voice irritated her.
“I’m new at this. I bet the first stock you traded didn’t make a million dollars.”
She didn’t want to be defensive, but this client had asked her to step into a world so different from her own. She needed time to adapt. His high society lifestyle could not have been more out of her comfort zone if she’d been asked to be an astronaut.
“No, it made two million.”
She resisted the urge to throw a shoe at him.
He eased himself onto the closest leather chair. Riley looked ahead at the opposite wall of the suite that Dirk had rented for this fashion show. The bedroom was in her vision, but that wasn’t what she wanted to look at. Dirk Trent was handsome, debonair, and being a complete asshole at the moment.
Despite that, he had her hormones on alert. Gazing at the bed while she walked in heels didn’t help. He had the air of a man who knew what he was doing. In any situation. She bet that extended to the bedroom.
“You sure I can’t just be a consultant you hire?” she said.
“No, then the mole will suspect that I know.”
“Was the information that was leaked crucial?” she said, trying to keep them on track as she hobbled across the room.
“Yes it was. You need to glide,” Dirk said. “Don’t take such large strides.”
His voice came out deep and raspy. Like aged whiskey poured over sandpaper. It had a sexy lilt to it, as if he’d had an Irish accent, but worked to get rid of it. She had to admit. He was sex in a tailored suit. She must keep her mind on the case, as she clearly was not his usual type.
Besides, she wanted to get back to her jeans and t-shirts as soon as she could. She doubted this man even owned a pair of jeans. Or shorts. Or sneakers for that matter. Well, unless he worked out, but she couldn’t tell what his body looked like under that suit and starched white shirt.
A brief vision of her unbuttoning that shirt threatened to make her stumble. She shortened her strides. “These are like bound feet. I’d never be able to run in these.”
“It’s part of the point. You don’t run in them. You walk short distances.” He swirled his finger as she walked toward him. “Turn around.”
She did as he asked. The dress she was wearing swished as she moved. The skirt was full, but the waist was tight. Not uncomfortable, other than the fact that it showed more curves than she usually admitted she had. The garment also showed cleavage. Who knew she had that too?
“The dress and heels make your ass look amazing.”
She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. A wry smiled creased his face as his gaze caressed her butt. “Until we are out in public, eyes up here.”
“No way. That is one great ass. I think I’d like to bite it,” he said.
She detected no snark in his voice, but she turned back to the way she was walking and rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long assignment. As an international guy as her roommate in college used to say,
Russian hands and Roman fingers
“I hope you can refrain from chewing on my butt,” she said.
She heard his sigh across the room. “I will be a gentleman, but I think the clothes you usually wear sell you short. You have one rockin’ body, Riley.”
“I have one rockin’ brain, Mr. Trent. That’s why you hired me,” she said.
Rockin’ body? Her? Maybe the man needed glasses. Her body was not ugly. No one had ever run screaming from her bedroom when she undressed, so she knew men found her attractive. But hot and sexy were not words she used to describe herself.
“Yes, but if you were butt ugly, the ruse wouldn’t work,” he said.
She sat on the couch and shifted the shoes off of her feet. “I’ll practice at home and try on the rest of the clothing.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “I’ll have them delivered to your new apartment.”
Dirk couldn’t have asked for a better reaction when he’d told Riley she had a new apartment. She’d sputtered and stomped, but he just left. His driver had taken her where she needed to go. He’d received a text from her, but didn’t reply.
If he was going to have to have some strange woman on his side, he was going to have fun with it. Besides, with the makeover she didn’t look half bad.
Tonight they were having dinner at his penthouse. They needed to get to know each other. If this ruse was going to work, even under the scrutiny of his best friend Zeke, their relationship had to be rehearsed.
His doorbell rang as he finished opening the wine, a Grand Cru from Paulliac. They could chat while the wine breathed. He’d dismissed his staff tonight, so Dirk answered the door himself.
When he opened it, Riley took away his breath. She didn’t glance at him to see if he approved as she strode into his house. Hurt his ego a little, but he’d get over it. His game plan was to get her used to him touching her. Which he would do. A lot. She was hot, and her refusal to recognize her hotness made her all the sexier.
She didn’t wear any of the shoes he’d bought for her. These were too low, but she didn’t stumble on them.
He closed the door then turned to her. “You aren’t wearing my shoes.”
“I cannot wear them. I’m sorry.”
He looked her over then frowned. “Those Walmart heels will not do.”
“Then buy me expensive shoes with smaller heels.”
He took a deep breath as her gaze didn’t waver from his. She wasn’t relenting, he guessed. He let out that breath and decided this was not a battle worth winning. “Okay.”
A smile broke out on her face. “Good.” She indicated a laptop bag in her hand. “I’ve brought my computer so we can start going through your employees.”
He shook his head. “No.” He pointed to the wall by the door. “Put it there.”
She blinked, and for some reason he thought that was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. If she were really his date there’d be a walk of shame in her future. Complete with smeared mascara and her panties in her purse. Not this time, though he could hope.
His dick twitched at the idea. He’d lick her all over so no one else could have her.
“This is dinner. A date if you will,” he said.
“Date? We’re not on a date,” she said.
“Yes, in a sense we are. A first date to get to know each other. You don’t have to be on your best behavior because it isn’t real, but we don’t have to be uncomfortable with each other. For instance, I need to be able to touch you without you flinching.”
She sucked in her lower lip. Did she know that was sexy? “Okay.”
She set the bag down where he asked. He led her into his dining room which had a view of Manhattan. She gasped.
“Yes, it’s a great view. I’m not much of a city girl, but this is beautiful.”
“Thanks,” he said. “You ready for some wine?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes, please.”
He came back with two glasses. He handed her one and their fingers grazed. Her hand jolted, and she spilled a few drops of red wine. On his white carpeting. This was not going well, but he understood why she flinched. He’d felt the electricity arc between them also.
Hm. Might be something to pursue. He could slum it if need be. Why not make this business arrangement the best it could be?
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
She grabbed a linen napkin off the floor and began to blot the wine out of the carpeting. She was on her knees with her butt to him. Boy, was his dick getting some ideas. He’d have to remember that. No one could see them up this high, and they’d both have a great view of the city while they fucked.
Those shoes would not be the ones she was wearing when they did this.
“It’s okay, Riley. I can get my maid to clean it up.”
She leaned back on her heels, looking up at him. “You sure? The sooner you get it out the better.”
He waved his hand. “I’ll replace the carpeting if it’s that bad.”
Her expression remained blank as she rose to her feet. He held out his hand, and she gave him the napkin. He returned with a clean napkin and the food for their meal.
“Is that kale?” she asked as she pushed in her chair.
“Kale and arugula with a champagne vinaigrette.”
She put some in her mouth. With the wrong fork. Better to make that mistake here than in a restaurant or any of the functions she would have to attend.
He cleared his throat. “The salad fork is the smallest one. When presented with this many utensils, you work from the inside out.”
She glanced down at the numerous forks and knives by her plate. “Uh, okay.”
“It’s an important fact to remember.”
“You’re afraid I’m going to embarrass you,” she said.
That was one of the reasons, but he shook his head. “I’ll just pass it off as you being dumb, then make some remark about sucking a golf ball through a hose.”
She cocked her head. “Am I expected to tie a cherry stem with my tongue, too?”
His balls woke up. “Can you do that?”
He blinked, then sipped his wine to moisten his suddenly parched mouth. “Uh. Okay. Maybe I’ll see that another time.”
“So you date dumb women?”
He nodded. “I guess I do, but let’s not talk about my past loves. We need to have a cover story. We need to know how we met.”
She sipped her wine, looking at him over the glass. She set it down, then wiped her mouth with her napkin. “You are all in on this.”
If she only knew. He’d be all in on her if she let him. Might be fun to try to get this woman to bed.
“I am.” He leaned closer to her. “I don’t do anything halfway.”
She swallowed visibly and he knew he was getting to her. “So where did you go to college?”
“Harvard. My favorite color is blue. I love walking on the beach and snuggling.”
“I doubt you snuggle. I bet you leave halfway through the night and don’t leave a note.”
“I don’t have to leave, Riley. I bring the women here and then send them home with my driver,” he said.
This was going to be the most fun he’d with his clothes on in a long time.