Mirin, Christelle - Morgan's Protégé [Bonding Camp 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

Bonding Camp 2

CHRISTELLE MIRIN

Copyright © 2012

Chapter One

Grace Moore heard something crash in the office across from where she sat. She jumped, nervous about meeting the man behind that door. It didn’t sound like he was in a good mood. Wouldn’t she just know it? Today was the day she was to meet the man she was going to intern with over the summer, and it didn’t sound like his day was going very well.

Morgan Moss, partner at Cane, Moss, and White, one of the most prestigious law firms in the tristate area, was the man behind that door. She’d heard a lot about Mr. Moss and his intimidating personality. Well, she wasn’t going to let it faze her. She’d worked hard for this internship, and she wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. Putting on a smile, she waited to be called into his office and meet the man face-to-face. She hoped he didn’t think she was too inexperienced to be an intern for him. She was twenty-two and had the summer before starting law school to learn as much as she could about how a law office functioned. There was no way she was going to pass up this opportunity. She hoped to make a good impression because this was the law firm she wanted to be a part of once she finished her education.

Smoothing the silk blouse she wore and adjusting the collar, she hoped she didn’t look too young. She had that problem a lot. People thought she was still a teenager, and her professors at college let her know it would hamper her in the courtroom if she ever
did
pass the bar. Her mother always told her she’d appreciate the fact she looked young when she was in her thirties and forties. Maybe so, but it sure wasn’t helping her now.

A nice-looking man exited the office on the left and walked toward the secretary, who was sitting at her desk on Grace’s right. He was carrying a folder. “Here you go,” he said, handing it to the secretary, then turned toward Grace. “Hello. Is there something I can do for you?” His hazel eyes were warm and friendly.

Grace smiled up at him. “I’m waiting to see Mr. Moss.”

“You are?” His lips bloomed in an inviting smile. “Have you been waiting long? Sometimes he gets involved in something and only focuses on it, forgetting he might have someone waiting for him. Want me to go check?” He raised an eyebrow.

She crossed her legs, her dress pants sliding over her skin softly. “It hasn’t been that long. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It’s no bother. I’ll pop into his office and see just what’s keeping him. You wait here.” He strode to the office directly across from where Grace was sitting.

She chewed her lip, hoping that his help didn’t get her in hot water. It was three o’clock and her appointment was at 2:30, but she really didn’t mind waiting. Unless, of course, she ended up waiting until five and the office began to close for the day. Maybe Mr. Moss had forgotten about her. After all, she was just an intern and not a client. Scratch that. She was a prospective intern. She didn’t have the spot locked down yet.

The nice-looking man came out of the office and walked up to her, extending his hand. “I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Justice Cane. You can call me Justice.”

Grace stood, smiled, and gave him her best handshake. He was a partner. She hadn’t even recognized him from the pictures she’d seen of the three partners of Cane, Moss, and White. He was much nicer looking in person. Sparkling hazel eyes and slightly mussed chestnut hair accented his quick smile. “Nice to meet you, Justice. I’m Grace Moore. I’m here to see Mr. Moss concerning the summer internship.” She pulled her hand from his grasp.

The smile on his face changed slightly, but it was enough for her to notice the difference. It had turned a bit mischievous. “The internship,” he said. “Tell you what, why don’t I go in with you? After all, if you’re going to be working here, you’ll also be working for me.”

Grace glanced down at the floor for a second. When she looked back up, Justice’s smile was still in place. “He’s that mad, huh?” she asked.

“Why would you ask that?”

Was this a test? Okay, she’d play along. “First, he’s kept me waiting for forty-five minutes now, which tells me he’s either too busy to be bothered with me or he’s having a bad day because something isn’t going right and he’s behind on his appointments.”

Justice started to say something, but she cut him off with her next argument, holding up two fingers for emphasis. “Second,” she continued, “a few minutes ago I heard a crash in his office. This is a law office. Hearing a crash is an implication that something is very wrong behind that door, or Mr. Moss has just knocked over his favorite vase.” She paused to take a breath.

Justice crossed his arms and chuckled.

“And third”—she added another finger to the two she already had raised—“your offer to accompany me inside to face the ogre behind the door supports the position of something being wrong that I made in my two points.”

There, now just breathe and hope you didn’t just blow the job.
She dropped her hand, waiting for him to respond. Chancing a furtive look at the secretary who was sitting behind her desk, Grace wasn’t surprised to see her wide-eyed look.

She looked back at Justice, pressing her lips together and looking him directly in the eye. “Well?”

“Did you learn that in school?” There was a sparkle in his eyes.

“Learn what?”

“How to argue a point.”

“Yes.” She put her hand on her hip.

Justice barked out a short laugh. “If he doesn’t hire you, I will. You already know how to make a damn good argument.” He turned toward Mr. Moss’s office, gesturing for her to follow. “Come on. Let’s see if you can handle Morgan like you handled me.”

Grace straightened her shoulders and followed. She was determined. If her little diatribe in the lobby didn’t automatically get her fired before she was hired, she just might get lucky and snag this job.

“Morgan, there’s someone here I think you should meet,” Justice said, stepping to the side of Mr. Moss’s desk after he entered the office.

Grace followed, approaching the front of the desk. She stopped in between the two chairs that were strategically placed in front of the desk for his clients.

The chair he was sitting in was turned to face the row of bookcases behind the desk. Slowly and smoothly, the chair turned toward her, and then she was looking directly into the piercing dark eyes of Morgan Moss.

Something shifted inside, her pulse increasing by a few beats. She drew a breath slowly in through her nose, steadying herself.

Good God, the man was the most devilish-looking man she’d ever seen. And he was gorgeous, even if he was at least ten years older than she.

Shoving her right hand forward over the desk, she smiled her best cheerleader-type smile. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Moss. I’m Grace Moore.”

His movements were tight and calculated. He unfolded himself from the leather chair, rising to his full height before taking her hand in his. As he rose, Grace kept her eyes on his face, and by the time he stood behind his desk, her head was tilted at quite an angle.
He must be at least six foot five or more.

His hand wrapped around hers, squeezing gently. “Morgan Moss,” he said, his voice deep, washing over her like faraway thunder.

Grace wanted to slap herself. Her body was reacting to this man as if he was its master. Heat coiled in her crotch, her nipples tightening beneath her silk blouse and bra. Even worse was the fact her cheeks were growing hot. The last thing she wanted to do was blush.

She pulled her hand from his and stepped back, putting some distance between them.

“You want to be my intern? How old are you?” he asked, one dark eyebrow rising.

Grace’s gaze didn’t waver, no matter how much his intensity was turning her on. “I’m twenty-two.”

A shadow seemed to cross his eyes. He looked down at her, his gaze seeming to soften somehow. “Twenty-two,” he repeated.

“Yes.” She couldn’t help but notice the way he resembled a pirate and the devil at the same time. Jet-black hair, a little too long, curling up a bit at the tops of his ears like little horns. A neatly trimmed Van Dyke beard set off his strong jaw perfectly. And his eyes…they were so intense…

“Sit down, Grace.” Mr. Moss sat back down in the chair behind the desk, taking charge of the interview.

Grace also noticed he addressed her by her first name.
Establishing himself as my superior.
She chose the chair to her right, placing her small briefcase on the floor beside it. Justice sat in the chair next to her, crossing one ankle over his knee and propping his elbow on the arm of the chair. Grace looked over at him. He smiled, looking like he was enjoying this meeting immensely.

Mr. Moss shuffled some files on his desk then pulled one in front of him. He opened it and leaned back with some papers in his hands, reading.

Grace swallowed, waiting for him to ask her a question or make a comment. She didn’t want to rush him. He already looked as if he was frustrated about something.

“Well, Grace,” Mr. Moss said, laying the papers down in front of him, “it seems your résumé is pretty impressive. Why do you want to intern with us?”

She was on. “I want the most experience I can get, and your firm is known for its high profile cases. You’ve got a wonderful track record of winning cases, and I’ve not heard anything untoward about the firm or the staff.”

He steepled his fingers in front of his chest and leveled his gaze at her. “Where do you plan to go to law school?”

“I’m hoping to be able to attend Harvard.”

“Hoping?”

She really didn’t want to tell him about her financial situation, but it looked like she was going to have to. “Mr. Moss—”

“Morgan,” he interrupted. “If you’re going to work here, we’re going to have to be on a first name basis.”

Did she already have the job? Her stomach jittered, excitement filtering through her. “Do I have the job?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a crooked smile. “We haven’t determined that yet, now have we? Tell me why you’re ‘hoping’ to get into Harvard. Have you been accepted?”

“Yes, I’ve been accepted.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

Her jaw tightened. “The problem is the tuition. I’ve applied for loans, and though I’ve been approved for some of the cost, I still am a bit short. That’s the reason my attending Harvard isn’t set at this time.”

“Can’t your family help?”

She folded her hands in her lap. “Morgan, I’m from a small town in Ohio. Both of my parents work in a factory. They make enough money to live comfortably, but they can’t afford to help me with my tuition. That’s one of the reasons it’s important for me that I secure this job. I need to save some money to help pay for my tuition this fall.”

“I see.” He touched his fingers to his lips, his gaze almost burning through her. “Let me ask you a question then.”

“Ask and I’ll give you the best answer I can come up with.” She wanted to hold her breath and fought the urge. She really wanted this job. She needed this job. Not only did she need the money, she also needed the internship for her résumé. A recommendation from the firm would open doors for her. Especially if she didn’t get a job offer here.

“If I take you on as my intern, you will be working very closely with me. Long hours, a lot of paperwork. You won’t have much of a social life. Would that be acceptable to you?” He narrowed his eyes.

“That’s not a problem. I’m willing to do what it takes to be a team player here at the firm.”

“Are you married? Would your husband understand?”