The Secretary's Seduction

"Well, smarty pants," he said softly, reaching out to lift a tendril of hair from her cheek. ''I'll tell you what it means. It means, I love you, I love you, I love you. Got it?"

Her lips quivered and a tear spilled over. She didn't want to cry. She really didn't want to cry. This was the best moment of her whole life and tears were for the birds. "I think so. But you might want to say it one more time just to be sure I really, completely understand."

He gave her a look of mock surprise. "What? No argument. No questions about my sincerity, or the kind of role you're going to play?"

"No." She blinked and more tears spilled. "No argument. No questions." The tears trickled down her cheek, past her mouth. She could taste the wet salty dampness on the corner of her lips. "And absolutely no doubts. You love me. That's enough for me. It's all I need to know."

He shifted his weight, moved on top of her. His head dipped, his lips brushed her ear. "I love you, Winnie Graham, and only you, Winnie Graham. Will you please spend the rest of your life with me?"

"Yes."

Later in the afternoon, after amazing sex, great food served by an extremely chipper Mr. Foley, and more amazing sex, they'd straggled down to the beach to get some sun.

Winnie lay on her beach towel, smiling up at the sky.

Paradise. She'd found paradise but she'd discovered something about paradise. It wasn't an island, or a concept. It wasn't a place. It wasn't even being with Morgan.

It was just being okay with yourself. Not being so afraid of yourself. Of accepting the good with the bad and learning to accept others the same way.

"There's an opening at the office," Morgan said from his beach lounge chair, tossing aside his newspaper.

The turquoise water lapped at the white sand, and without a breeze there were hardly any waves in the small crescent bay. Winnie shaded her eyes as she looked at him. "You want me to go back to work?"

"I thought you wanted to go back to work."

She was a bit puzzled by the direction of the conversation. "I do miss the office."

"So call and schedule an interview."

"You're going to make me go through an interview?"

"You think you should get special advantages just because you're the boss's girlfriend?"

She threw her bikini top at him. "I'm not your girlfriend. I'm your mistress. Remember?"

Morgan's dark blue eyes narrowed as they swept over her light gold skin. She was naked except for her yellow bikini bottoms. "Mmm, I'm remembering."

She knew where his mind was headed but she wanted more information from him first. "Tell me about the job. How long has the position been open? Who would I work with?"

Morgan handed her a section of the paper. "It's in here. We've been running the advertisement in Classifieds all week. Resumes are pouring in."

Winnie's gaze swept the narrow columns. "Nothing here for administrative assistants."

"You're on the wrong page. Check under business, marketing.'

That's weird, she thought, but she flipped the paper to the page he'd said. Her eyes scanned the ads then rested on one. "It's a market research position."

"The first we've had in nearly five years." His eyes met hers. "The first since you walked out of the interview at Grady Investments nearly five years ago."

For a long moment Winnie didn't speak, her gaze fixed on the tranquil turquoise water and the darker patches of purple indicating submerged beds of coral.

She drew a slow breath. "How did you know I interviewed for an analyst position?"

"It was in your employment file. I discovered it when Mr. Osborne called to check on your references."

He'd known this about her for months and yet he'd never said a thing until now. "Why didn't you tell me you knew?"

"I was waiting for you to tell me yourself." He reached out, clasped her hand and tugged her off her towel and onto his chair.

She felt nervous now, and she scrambled to get her bikini top on. "Told you what? That I panicked in your conference room and made a total fool of myself?"

"You'd make a great market analyst, Winnie. I want you to interview."

Her eyes were burning again. She adjusted her suit, blinked, and focused on the house with its pots of red and pink hibiscus, the trailing purple bougainvillea, and the tall arching coconut trees. "I thought you didn't want me to work at your office. I thought you didn't want to work with me."

"For such a smart girl, you've got it all wrong. I didn't want you to work for me. I want you to work with me. I know it's only a little preposition, but it's an important one."

EPILOGUE

One month later

THE bathroom was steamy and fragrant with Morgan's aftershave. Winnie rose on tiptoe and leaned across the wide marble counter to grab the toothpaste. But even on her toes it was still out of reach.

Morgan bumped her with his hip. "Hey, stay on your own side."

"I am on my side. My toothpaste just happens to be on your side."

"And how did that happen?"

"Because you borrowed it," she flashed, finally able to scoot past his very solid torso and snatch the tube back. Yet in reaching past him she got a glimpse of his taut abdomen. He hadn't buttoned his dress shirt yet and she was unable to resist the lovely flat bands of muscle cut across his stomach.

Winnie pushed his shirt open wider and pressed a kiss to his warm, toned belly. He inhaled quickly and she smiled to herself and kissed him an inch lower before tracing his hard muscle with the tip of her tongue.

He shuddered at the caress. "Winnie, we don't have time."

She loved the feel of his body, loved the way she turned him on. "Sure, we do," she whispered wickedly before kissing him again, lower this time, her mouth finding him through his Italian-cut trousers.

He caught her head in his heads, his fingers sliding through her loose hair. "You make me crazy."

"Good."

Muttering an oath, Morgan reached down, picked her up from the floor and placed her on the edge of the counter.

She felt a thrill of excitement. "We're going to be late," she mocked, heart racing, eyes shining, loving the adventure of life with Morgan Grady.

"Your fault," he said, parting her knees, pushing up her slim skirt and stepping between her thighs. He slid her body forward and she felt his arousal, his body so hard it made her instantly weak.

Winnie drew Morgan's face down to hers. "Kiss me."

"I'll never stop."

"You'll have to. It's my first day of work."

His lips touched hers and shocks of energy jumped through her. Just one kiss and she felt hot and electric. One touch and she knew she'd always feel wildly passionate about this man.

"You should have thought about that before you started playing dangerous games," he retorted, sliding his hands up to cup her breasts.

She sighed with pleasure, sinking closer to him. ''I'm going to get fired before I even get the office tour."

He kissed the side of her neck, just below her ear.

"You don't need the office tour. You already know your way around the Tower building's seventy-eighth floor. "

Winnie closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his mouth against her skin and she lifted her chin higher to give him better access to her skin. "But how would it look if Grady Investments' newest research analyst showed up late on her first day? Everyone would think I'm taking advantage of my special relationship with the boss."

His lips had found the very secret, very sensitive spot where all her nerve endings seemed to come together. All it took was just one touch there and she forgot everything-duty, reason, responsibility.

Morgan lifted his head, gazed down into her warm, flushed face even as he slid his hands beneath her blouse and unclasped her bra. "Speaking of your special relationship with the boss, I think it's time we changed the status quo."

"You do?" she answered breathlessly, cool air hitting her aching breasts.

"Yes. I can't have all the men hitting on the company's brainy new analyst."

"So, boss, what do you propose?"

"Marry me."

She sat up, stared deep into his blue eyes. They were the most beautiful color she'd ever seen. "Marry you?"

"Unless you're afraid of making me a long-term commitment." His smile slipped and he leaned forward to clasp her face in his hands, his expression serious. "Are you?"