Facade (Billionaire in Disguise 1)

And those men were always the most dangerous, no matter who was attacking them.

I was going to have to keep my eyes peeled in every single direction. Because I had a feeling Derek Steele had created more enemies than friends.

Chapter 3

Derek

I HAD NO IDEA IF I had made a mistake or not in hiring her on, but I knew I had no choice. The break-in had spooked me enough to set aside the fact a woman was just hired to augment my security staff. She did seem to know what she was doing at lunch. She was observant. Strong. Fluent in languages I didn’t even know and a great asset to whoever she was with. I would’ve been an idiot to not hire her.

But those fucking clothes had to go.

I sent her shopping for her wardrobe and gave her an account number to charge everything to. She fought me tooth and nail on paying for her stuff, but I threw her words back in her face. So long as she was on the clock with me, her major expenses were mine to bear, and that was fair. She was literally hired to do anything to keep me safe and to take any measures necessary to save my life while we tracked down who the hell was sending me these fucking letters.

The least I could do was buy her some decent fucking clothes.

My phone rang, and it was Sam. In her clipped, blunt way of talking, she told me she was on her way back to my house. I grinned as I hung up the phone, shrugging my suit jacket off my shoulders. A part of me was curious as to what she bought this afternoon. With a woman like that who was rough around the edges, she probably bought a wardrobe that was all black and consisted of pantsuits. Or maybe she had bought actual suits, tailored to her body to make some feminist point about me telling her how she needed to dress for her job or something.

She struck me as that kind of woman, and I chuckled as I made my way to sit at my desk.

The office buzzed up to tell me she was here, and I waited for her at the door of my office. She came inside with numerous bags hanging from her arms. She stood in the middle of my carpeted floors, her eyes locked onto me as her hands began to turn white.

The bags were cutting off the circulation to her fingers.

“Need help with those?” I asked.

“Nope,” she said. “I got them. How many stories are in your home? Since I’ll eventually be there.”

“You didn’t do any research on my home?” I asked.

“There’s four, but I was only trying to make conversation.”

“You could show me the clothes you bought. That would’ve made for decent conversation, I’m sure.”

“Why? Because you don’t think I understand how to do elegance?”

Her eyes locked with mine, and I snickered. How the fuck did she do shit like that?

“I’m not certain you understand the necessary style I’m looking for, yes.”

“Then, I’ll show you what I purchased. Where is your nearest bathroom?”

“I have my own private washroom,” I said. “Through that door over there.”

I pointed to the door on the other side of my office as her gaze followed my finger. I watched her walk across the carpet, her ass swaying with each step she took as the bags hung from her hands.

I felt my pants grow tight again as she opened the door and disappeared into the cavernous space.

My washroom was actually a separate room. It had a walk-in closet stocked with a few of my suits. Some shoes and some ties, a couple of bow ties and some sunglasses. Everything I would need to get ready for an event like this was in there. But it was also equipped for me to sleep in if I spent late nights in my office. There were a walk-in shower and a queen-sized bed back there as well as duplicates of all my toiletries.

I lived for this company, and many times that meant very late nights and international video conferences at three in the morning.

I rolled up the sleeves of my suit and stuck my hands in my pockets. This was going to be fun. I kept picturing all the ridiculous outfits she could come downstairs in, tailored suits and pantsuits and polyester maxi dresses people tried to pass off as elegant. I rocked on my feet and looked at my watch, making sure I had plenty of time to get myself ready for this fundraiser.

“Miss Williams, I don’t have all—”

She stepped out of the washroom, and I swallowed my words. I was stunned by how elegant she looked. Her legs seemed longer as she stood in her black heels. Her tanned skin glistened against the black silken fabric of the spaghetti-strapped dress she wore. It had a high neckline with a seafoam green belt that grabbed her tightly around her waist. The fabric fluttered against her long legs, moving with every step she took as her dangling earrings and dainty bracelet boasted of the same color as the band around her waist.

She sure as hell looked the part, but now the question was whether she could do her job in that getup.