The Secretary's Bossman Bargain

When she hesitated, he bent to whisper in her ear, sweetening the offer with words she found she could not resist.

“My brother is very loyal, and if you managed to steal his heart…no ten businesses would top it.”

But Virginia knew that one business, one woman did—when she heard the news announced later in the evening that Fintech would be taking over Allende.

Twelve

They rode to the penthouse in dead, flat silence. Marcos seemed engrossed in his thoughts, and Virginia was deeply engrossed in hers.

It took her ten minutes, while he made phone calls to Jack and his lawyers, to pack the meager belongings she’d once, mistakenly or not, left in his apartment.

She was calmer. Immobile on a tiny corner of the bed, actually, and staring at the doorway, nervously expecting him to come in any minute. But calmer.

Though she didn’t know whether the nausea inside of her was due to the pregnancy or to the fact that she would not be sleeping with Marcos for the first night in over a month.

She just couldn’t do this any longer. Every little word she’d heard tonight had felt like whiplashes on her back; she could not believe her colleagues would speak this way about her. And then Marcos…offering her a necklace, but not his love. Him telling his brother she was his…his…

No.

She refused to believe he would refer to her as something tacky. But the truth, no matter how painful, was the truth. Virginia was his assistant—one of three—and she was sleeping with her boss. It didn’t matter if she’d spent the most beautiful moments of her life with him. It didn’t matter that every kiss, every touch, she had given with all her might and soul. It didn’t matter that she’d loved him before and loved him now.

She was sleeping with her boss, and she’d never be respected if she continued. She’d never respect herself.

If only she were able to tuck her determination aside for a moment and enjoy one last night with him. The last night of a month she would not ever forget. The last night with the man she had fallen in love with, the father of her unborn child.

Drawing in a fortifying breath, she left the bedroom and went searching for him.

She’d heard him in his office, barking orders to Jack over the phone, laughing with him, even—he was not concealing his delight over his deal.

The door of the study was slightly ajar, and she slipped inside in silence.

He sat behind his desk at the far end. He looked eerie behind his computer, concentrated, the light doing haunting things to his face. Her stomach clenched with yearning. “Marcos, may I talk to you?”

He stiffened, and his head came up. Her breath caught at the devastating beauty of his liquid black eyes, and her heart leapt with a joy that quickly became dread when he remained silent. There was lust in those orbs, desire, and she seized on to that with all her might before he jerked his gaze back to the computer. “I’m very busy, Virginia.”

She tugged at the hem of her dress, uneasy of how to proceed. She tried to sound casual. “Marcos, I thought we could discuss…something. I may not spend the night and I really feel it’s important—”

“Jesus, do we have to do this now?” His hands paused on the keyboard, then he dropped his face and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms. “I’m sorry. Right. Okay. What is it, Virginia?”

Her eyes widened at his condescending tone. The thought that he’d always put Allende and his business before her made her stomach twist so tight she thought she would vomit. She’d forgotten she was his plaything. If she produced money maybe he’d give her five minutes now?

“We were going to discuss…us.” Her voice trembled with urgency. “At the dinner, you mentioned wanting to say something.”

He leaned back, his expression betraying no flicker of emotion, no hint of what was going through his mind. “Can’t us wait a day? Hmm?”

“No, Marcos, it can’t.”

He sat up straighter, linked his hands together, and kept silent for what felt like forever. His calm alarmed her. He was too still, too composed, while his eyes looked…indulgent. “What is it you want to say to me?” he at last asked.

Suddenly she felt like young Oliver Twist, begging, “Please, sir, I want some more.” And she hated him for making her feel like that.

Her voice broke and she swallowed in an attempt to recover it. “Look, I realize what kind of arrangement we have,” she began. “A-and maybe it was good for a time. But things change, don’t they?”

He nodded, his entire face, his smile, indulgent.

She dragged in a breath, trying not to lose her temper. “Marissa, Marcos.”

“What about Marissa?” His eyes were so black, so intense, she felt as though they would burn holes through her.