Mr. Beautiful (Up in the Air 4)
Page 52
She sent me a baffled look that mollified me. "Of course not. Not like you're suggesting. He was a friend. That was all. I honestly think I just got along so well, so comfortably with him because he's a lot like Stephan, personality wise. To be honest, for the longest time, I thought he was g*y. Makes this whole thing extra shocking to me."
That startled a laugh out of me. And the first real smile in days.
All was right again in my world.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
MY FAITHFUL HEART
It wasn't long after the Joseph incident that another outside force attempted to assail our marriage.
I wasn't the only one that struggled with jealousy in our marriage, though she managed hers much differently than I did mine.
We were staying in New York for a spell. Luckily Bianca didn't mind traveling, since it was something we did often. She said the changes of scene were nice, and that she liked to paint in different places.
I was working more hours than usual at the Cavendish Manhattan property. I'd been gone from the city a long time, and had to play catch up on a few crucial business ventures.
Clark had stayed back in Vegas, unfortunately, to represent me at some meetings for the casino. He was more than my bodyguard. He assisted me in all things, was a partner in several ventures, but still worked as a personal assistant/jack of all trades. I paid him dual salaries for it, because the more he could do for me the better, as I trusted him implicitly. He'd been with me since I was very young, and I knew he was loyal to a fault.
His absence was particularly unfortunate, as I needed extra assistance in the New York hotel, and since I didn't want to shake up the normal of order of things there for a temporary stay, I had to hire a new assistant.
I had the hiring handled for me, my only requirement that the assistant be competent and able to work long hours for the next two weeks.
I'd weaned myself off micromanaging a while back, and I wasn't going to start again now.
The assistant's name was Winona, and her main purpose was paperwork and coffee. Important stuff.
She was eye catching. I wasn't blind, and I noticed right away that she had the kind of looks that could stop a man in his tracks.
Hourglass curves, deep red hair that was tousled like she'd just come out of a man's bed, with a face that was simply stunning to look at, green eyes that were a startling emerald that I personally thought must have been contacts.
If that wasn't enough, she dressed provocatively and carried herself with the kind of sensuality that a man like me could recognize for what it was. She oozed sex. Everything she did spoke of her fixation on it. She was the kind of woman a man saw in the office and figured she'd just finished f**king someone in the elevator on the way up, because she just needed it that bad, that constantly.
She was the kind of woman I'd have taken the bait from a few years ago.
And bait was just what she was throwing out. She wasn't subtle. I caught her vibe right away. I'd been single not so very long ago. I knew the signs, hadn't forgotten a single trick, from her sidelong stares to her flashes of cle**age, I recognized them all.
I wasn't flirtatious with her. I didn't think I'd ever been particularly flirtatious, even before. I'd been polite but to the point. Now there was no point. Any woman expressing interest in me who was not my wife was nothing but a nuisance.
She was so obvious, in fact, that I found myself addressing it on the first day.
"You're here to do a job," I told her, voice bland. She was bent over my table, pretending to work on something, her cle**age just about falling out of her top. She'd been posing that way for a good five minutes.
"A simple job, no more, no less," I continued. "If you had some other expectations coming into this, I'm going to disabuse you of the notion right now. Do your work, act and dress appropriately, or leave.
She looked up at me, straightened, smoothing her dress, hands running over her voluptuous body to do so. She blinked her eyes slowly, several times, just staring at me.
I thought she might be going for a seductive stare.
Pointedly, I yawned.
Her mouth tightened, and she nodded, then went back to what she was doing.
I sighed. "You have your own desk, out in reception. I'm not particularly keen on sharing mine."
That at least got her out of my hair for a bit.
On her third day, I went into my office's adjacent bedroom, locking the door behind me, and made a phone call to Bianca that was meant to be a simple checking in to say hi call.
Instead, I ended up with my dick out, jacking off into a napkin as she told me what she was doing to herself on the other end.
It was ridiculous. Just out of hand. I'd made love to her that morning, just before work, and still I couldn't help myself. I only let her hang up after she'd promised to come visit me for lunch.
I'd been in the bedroom about forty-five minutes, and I came back out to find Winona was in my office.
She looked startled. She was by my desk but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what she'd been doing.
"What are you doing?" I asked her.
She licked her lips, smoothing her tight dress over her hips. "I—um came to ask you if you needed anything."
I didn't believe her. My eyes narrowed, I looked around my desk, but could see nothing out of place.