Working Girl

Book 6: Working Girl

by Shana Gray

Genres: Contemporary Romance; General Fiction; Romance

Synopsis

Tess has been determined to get revenge for her father since he was fired from Diamond Enterprises on false charges. Applying to be Executive Assistant to the elusive head of the company, Mr King, seems the ideal way to clear his name.

But the interview takes an unexpected turn when Tess is blindfolded and flown to a secret location, only to learn that the advertisement was a ruse to find the new CEO of Diamond Enterprises. The catch: the job will only be hers if she passes a seven-day interview.

Tess will have to use all of her skills if she's to succeed, and to resist the powerful magnetism of the seven irresistible men sent to help - or distract - her. But will Tess find herself losing her heart when she meets her man of the week?

Release date: February 6, 2018

Publisher: Headline

Print pages: 448

Sample

I settled into the soft leather armchair and quietly took in the posh reception area of Diamond Enterprises. It was all marble, honeyed-colored wood, thick carpets and soft lighting, with one wall housing hermetically sealed first-edition classics behind beveled glass. It gave the impression of an elegant sitting room. Under normal circumstances, I would be drawn to the shelves, eager to see which books rated being so carefully protected.

Not today.

The whole place gave off an aura of old money and, in my opinion, also reeked of arrogance and entitlement. I didn’t belong, but that wasn’t going to stop me. I’d nurtured my revenge since I was fifteen, when my father died. Just five years earlier, he, only fifty years old, walked into our house, the contents of his office stuffed into a battered cardboard box, and the direction of my life changed. Now that a window of opportunity had finally opened, I’d leapt at it. The head of Diamond Enterprises needed an executive assistant.

In the weeks since I’d seen the job on an executive-jobs search site, I’d quit my position as corporate librarian for an international mining exploration company, and done my due diligence, researching and cramming as if this interview were the exam of a lifetime, in order to be absolutely ready for it. At the library, I’d done everything from ordering reference materials and tracking down obscure theses on mineral rights to supervising a small staff of archivists and researchers. To leave all that and become somebody else’s secretary was a step down, a waste of my degrees and the scholarships that paid for them. But the opportunity to bring down a huge corporation didn’t come along often . . . and I was prepared to do whatever it took. There was nothing they could trip me up on now. I’d learned all I could about the company – at least, what was in the public domain. What wasn’t public knowledge was what I needed to find out now, and the only way to do that was from the inside.

From my seat, I had a clear view down the elaborate hall into the mysterious and very secretive inner sanctum of Diamond. The very sanctum in which my father, Charles Raymond, had once walked, moving with the exclusive executive management team, until he’d been let go, falsely accused of misusing company funds, and it had cost him – us – everything. He’d been ousted unceremoniously, cut off at the knees, his pension taken away and with no golden parachute to see him through his senior years. It left him with a reputation that haunted him until he died, a bitter old man. (I’d been born when he was forty, rather late in his life, before his fall from grace.)

I pressed my lips together, trying not to let my anger boil over. It wouldn’t help; calm and level-headed thinking was the only way to succeed. I glanced at my watch, a delicate piece I loved with all my heart. Dad had given it to Mom on their wedding day, almost thirty years ago, back when they still lived in England. I gently touched the small, round face ringed with exquisitely tooled platinum and a bevy of sparkling diamonds. The second hand ticked and reminded me I was waiting, something I’d become very good at.

I’d arrived the obligatory fifteen minutes before my interview, and only a few minutes had gone by. I glanced up and saw the polished young receptionist’s gaze slide away from me. I watched her try to pretend she hadn’t been caught in the act of staring and decided I would ignore her. It wasn’t important. Instead, I leaned back, crossed one leg over the other and primly laced my fingers over my Kate Spade purse, gazing down the long hall. I could play it cool. But I had to admit I was curious about the timing of the interview; it was well past six o’clock in the evening.

Scheduling didn’t matter, anyway; getting the job did.

All I needed was to become a part of the organization, and this interview was my only chance. I was prepared to do just about anything to get my foot in the door.

My nerves were shot, though. I drew in a deep breath, as quietly as I could. I didn’t like that I was quaking, deep inside. I felt it, and there was nothing I could do about it. At least it didn’t show outwardly. If they found out who I was, I couldn’t imagine what would happen. Probably the same thing that happened to my father.

The hem of my skirt rode up above my thigh when I re-crossed my legs. I knew it was a dated skirt suit, but I loved my vintage clothing. Glancing down at my feet, I smiled at my shoes. Another great find. The only thing new was the purse. My passion for purses had gotten out of hand and my credit card was crying the blues.

Sounds echoed in the long hall. I looked up from under my eyebrows, glanced briefly at Ms Gatekeeper Receptionist, who was suddenly intent on her appearance, staring into a compact before snapping it shut. I fidgeted with my purse, stricken by the urge to see if I had any lipstick on my teeth. I heard doors open and close and kept an eye on the end of the hall, drawing in a soft breath when a man appeared. My heart fluttered as he approached, my nerves kicking into high gear. I no longer had time to check my lips and so I watched the man approach. He seemed about to explode out of his well-tailored suit. I noticed everything about him, imprinting him into my brain.

He. Was. Gorgeous.

And big.

Good Lord, he seemed to fill the hall with his presence. The intensity on his face as he concentrated while talking on his cell phone had me holding my breath. His brows, heavy and dark, just like his closely cropped hair, were drawn together. He was focused and walked with confidence. A fierce scar ran over his cheek, just under his right eye. I had the urge to trace my finger along the angry welt across his cheekbone. All sorts of stories about how he had achieved such a scar raced through my overactive brain. None of them was very comforting.

He entered the reception area, and dwarfed it. I stared at him, my heart pounding. Was my interview with him? He turned to the receptionist, glancing up from his phone, and said something to her that I wasn’t able to hear. I tried to hold back a frown when she giggled and flirted. He smiled at her and tapped his fingers on the desk a couple of times – he had big hands, too – before turning around. Then he was in front of me, and I stared up at him. I waited for a brief moment before deciding that I should stand. I struggled to get up. It was as if the damn chair had suctioned me in. I wiggled, trying to get my legs under me so I could rise gracefully.

‘Ms Canyon?’ the dark and dangerously gorgeous man asked. He reached out and offered his hand.

‘Yes.’ I tilted my head so I could meet his gaze. I’d started using my mother’s maiden name when I was in my late teens. Otherwise, one internet search and all the scandalous gossip about Diamond’s betrayal of Dad would be revealed.

Taking his hand was absolutely the wrong thing to do. His touch was electric, and heat rocketed up my arm and into my chest, drawing all the oxygen out of my lungs. I glanced at our fingers to see if there were, literally, sparks flying. I allowed him to help me to my feet.

‘Thank you,’ came out a little too breathlessly, and I tried to catch my breath.

I adjusted the chain shoulder strap of my purse with my free hand, then ran it down my hips to smooth my skirt, which I knew, without looking, had ridden even higher on my thighs. He let go of my fingers and I curled them into my palms, wanting to hold on to the sensation of his touch. I flicked my gaze to him and nearly fainted when I saw he was staring at my legs. I realized I was still running my hand over my hips.

God, I hoped it didn’t seem like a seductive move. I quickly laced my fingers in front of me. He looked up and I was captivated, his blue eyes holding me hostage until I once more had no breath. He smiled and one side of his mouth rose up almost imperceptibly. It made the scar on his cheek follow suit and – holy shit! – rather than being off-putting, it was the most enticing look a man had ever given me. I was rattled, and trying desperately not to show it. I dragged my gaze from him to focus on breathing for a few precious seconds.

‘Thank you for coming in so late on a Monday. I realize it was a last-minute request for the interview, and we appreciate your accommodating our unusual scheduling.’ His voice held authority, and a slight accent that I couldn’t place.

I liked it.

I nodded my head, acknowledging his words.

‘Thank you for inviting me for an interview. I’m glad we were able to find a time.’

‘As I said, we do appreciate that you were able to join us. Now, let’s get started.’

‘Of course,’ I said, grateful that we weren’t going to stand and stare at each other all evening.

He held his hand out, indicating that I should walk before him.

‘Please, ladies first.’

A shiver rippled through me. It was as if he had touched me with his voice. I’d never been so acutely aware of a man before. I wasn’t so sure I wanted him behind me. I wanted – no, needed – to see him, but that wasn’t to be. I had no clue where to go and continued forward until he gave me directions. Then everything seemed to take a strange turn as he directed me down a maze of halls to what looked like another elevator, a private one. He inserted a card at the bottom of the sensor and I found myself inside in the blink of an eye.

The doors whooshed closed and, if I hadn’t been looking at the numbers showing that we were climbing, I wouldn’t have known if the elevator was going up or down.

We were silent, and I kept my eyes glued to the floor numbers. He was a step behind me, and it was as if he had an effect on the air around us. His size dominated the small but well-appointed elevator. I glanced down at the ground and saw his feet just behind me to the right.

My mom used to say you could tell a person by their shoes. His shoes were mighty fine. Polished. Black and large. The elevator was warm – either that, or my body temperature was spiking. How could it not with a man radiating intense sexy goodness in such close proximity to me? When the doors opened to a small vestibule with glass walls, I was surprised to find we were on the roof. I turned to look at him.

‘The roof? Why—?’ He pushed at the door’s handlebar and it swung open, a leaf that had been caught beneath the doorjamb blowing out. He stared at me, clearly waiting for me to proceed. Was he not aware that we were currently over seventy stories above the ground?

‘Do you not speak much?’ I asked him, and I cringed at the edge I heard in my voice.

Mr Gorgeous smiled. ‘Only when words are necessary.’

I didn’t really know how to reply to that so I narrowed my eyes, then turned my back to him. Even though I couldn’t see him, I was acutely aware of him behind me.

‘Ms Canyon, this way, please.’

Wind rushed in, pulling at my hair. Thank God I’d had it cut. I missed my long, loose curls, but I’d had to make the change, and now I sported a short, layered cut, the thick strands dyed so dark they almost held a blue tinge. I’d remembered to dye my eyebrows, and mascara took care of my lashes. My hair’s normal fiery red was a dead giveaway, as I took after my father. He’d passed his hair down to me, and I treasured it. His nickname had been Rooster, due to his vibrant, unruly hair. I shoved thoughts of him away and stepped on to the rooftop.

‘What’s going on? Why am I up here?’

Mr Gorgeous turned to me. ‘This is the next step in the interview process.’

I frowned, trying to make sense of his comment.

‘What, on the roof?’

Then I heard the sound of an engine and searched it out. To my surprise, there was a helicopter waiting on a helipad at the far end of the roof. A metal catwalk led from the small entryway to the roof and stairs leading up to the waiting helicopter.

‘I don’t understand.’ I turned to face the man, and hesitated. Going up in a helicopter was not on my bucket list. I never flew if I could avoid it, because of my fear of heights.

‘As I said, this is the next step. You either move forward or you turn around and consider the interview over.’

‘What? Just like that? No helicopter, no interview? This is certainly unorthodox.’

Fear started to tighten around my heart. All my strategic plans had, up until this point, gone flawlessly, almost too well to be true.

I gritted my teeth and quickly weighed up my options. There were only two. Turn around and leave, never find the retribution I’d been gunning for all these years and live with regret for the rest of my days, or . . . I turned and looked at the helicopter: get in that thing and fly off to God knows where and keep my plans on track. The company had accused my father of padding his expense account and spending company funds on a mistress, and my plan was to locate expense reports and any other financial records for the executive team back then and, if lucky, perhaps find some recent ones as well. I’d release the documents to the media, prove the executives were all hypocrites. There’s no way my dad did what they said he did; he was honorable to the core and he adored my mother, so the implication that he was having an affair shattered them both. I don’t think my mom ever truly got over it, and I think she believed that he had had an affair. I, on the other hand, was adamant that he was innocent.

Do I follow the white rabbit down the rabbit hole, or do I let the adventure end now? There was no decision to make. I’d made up my mind long before this moment. I would follow the rabbit. I moved toward him and stared at the man head on.

‘Lead the way,’ I told him, and did my best to keep my voice from revealing the panic that had started to build in me.

He smiled and allowed me to pass. I went on to the catwalk. Heights. God, how I hated heights. Rivers of fear barreled up the backs of my legs, over my ass, and clutched my back in a fierce grip, nearly squeezing the breath from my lungs. I stared down at the concrete canyons of New York City, sparkling innocently in the evening twilight. Bah, not so innocent. Far from it.

I started to hyperventilate at the pull of the abyss below.

Slowly and very cautiously, I placed one foot in front of the other, keeping my knees slightly bent, much like a drunk being directed by a cop to walk the line. Seventy-five stories up.

Outside.

Shit, this was a nightmare coming to life. If only I could wake up and things were back like they were. I wavered, and a steadying hand rested against my waist. ‘Careful, ma’am.’ His deep voice in my ear wasn’t as far away as I had thought it would be.

His presence behind me was comforting, in a way, but I would not thank him for it. The polarizing touch of his fingertips didn’t help my breathlessness. Heights and him. What a dizzying combination.

‘Try not to look down, it’s easier.’

‘I’m not looking down,’ I snapped, lying as I flicked another glance toward the edge of the building.

I climbed the last few steps to the platform. My skirt hiked up my thigh a bit and I jerked it down. Should have worn slacks, but how the hell could I know I’d be flying off in a helicopter?

I’d told myself I was prepared for anything, so I had to buck up. I’d come this far and I wasn’t about to quit now. I needed to find out the truth and clear my father’s name. I hesitated at the top of the platform.

He asked, ‘Have you made your choice?’

Brushing past him, I walked toward the ride that would be one of the most terrifying things I’d ever done. There was no way I would turn away and forget that this company had, basically, killed my father. Fired him, devastating our lives. He was too much of an honest man to misappropriate company funds – and for a mistress! He loved my mother, and I simply couldn’t believe he’d jeopardize everything he’d worked so hard to accomplish. I needed to clear his name and make Diamond Enterprises pay.

I stopped by the open door and looked into the sleek interior. This was no touristy helicopter. This was class. Style. I turned and gave the man a determined look.

‘That I’m here on a skyscraper about to board a helicopter that will take me to an unknown destination should tell you how badly I want this job.’

Mr Gorgeous walked toward me. My heart leapt into my throat when he reached out and took my elbow. His touch was just as electric as it had been moments ago. He leaned toward me, and my gaze roamed over his face, seeing him up close for the first time. The ice blue of his eyes under his dark brows, and his lips, full and inviting, caused me to part my lips in anticipation . . . of what? A kiss? I could almost imagine the feel of his mouth on mine, and my muscles weakened at the butterflies that filled my belly. I found myself gripping his arm. His very muscular arm. But he didn’t lean in to kiss me. I felt foolish and angry for even entertaining the thought.

‘Get in.’

His assured tone left no room for argument. It took all my reserve to keep from falling any further under the spell he seemed to have cast over me. From the minute I saw him, there was a special something that had me short of breath, as if I were waiting for something to happen, and did all sorts of good bad things to my already heightened nerve endings. I stood taller and pulled from his grip.

‘I can manage.’

Turning away from him, I tried to step up into the helicopter. My tight skirt had been a perfect choice for an office interview but not for this unanticipated adventure. I tried again to get in, and the toe of my shoe caught on the step into the helicopter. It made me feel even more unraveled. The crowning glory was when his hands gripped my waist and he lifted me into the cabin. I was embarrassed that I needed his help, and hated how much I enjoyed his touch.

‘Thank you.’

Once inside, he let me go, and I found a seat. He jumped in as if riding a helicopter were a normal, every-day event. Maybe it was for him. He filled the interior with his dark, very dangerous and totally enticing aura.

‘Here,’ Mr Gorgeous said, and handed me a headset; it would drown out the noise and allow us to hear and speak to each other. ‘Put them on and do up the seat belt.’

I did as he instructed and watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled something out.

‘Now this.’

I looked at his hand and furrowed my brows.

‘What’s this?’ I leaned forward to see what he was holding.

‘Blindfold.’

‘Wh-hat? A blindfold? What on earth for?’

I looked up at him, cold dread slipping along my spine.

He smiled. ‘What are they normally for?’

That was a loaded question. My mind fell down that rabbit hole again and I had a flash of being blindfolded on a bed, with him above me, in me, making love, and I almost moaned. He was hot, sexy, and my body had reacted to him since the first moment I saw him. I closed my eyes and squeezed my thighs together, trying not to get carried away. I was here for a purpose, one reason only, and sex was not on the to-do list. I silently cursed him.

‘I really don’t understand why I have to wear one.’

He sat next to me.

‘It’s the rules. You’re here for a job interview and this is one of the criteria.’

‘That’s such bullshit.’

I felt myself getting pissy, which was a welcome change from the desire I’d felt moments before but not at all a good thing in a job interview. Nor was the swearing. He laughed, and I liked how it sounded.

‘Be that as it may, either put it on or get out.’

What the fuck had I gotten myself into? I hadn’t established an emergency plan. No one was waiting for my check-in phone call. Mom was back in England, which was what had made this whole venture possible. No one knew I was here. My former co-workers thought I was taking a trip to London to see my mother and the Harry Potter studios, and I’d lost touch with the few friends I’d had in college. Plotting the best way to reduce a company to figurative smoking rubble didn’t leave me with a lot of time to socialize. If something happened to me now, there wasn’t a soul on earth who would notice any time soon. Panic filled me and I glanced at the now closed door. I could leave if I wanted to, but I couldn’t give up. I eyed the blindfold. Really? Then I pressed my lips together and switched my gaze to his face.

‘Give it to me.’ I held out my hand. How much more control was I to give up? It was bad enough that I’d soon be thousands of feet up in the air, and now he wanted me to put my fate entirely in his hands.

He ignored my hand. I kept my gaze pinned on him and refused to look away. I was beginning to wonder if he knew who I was. If he – or they – did, then my plan would be shot to hell, but if they didn’t, then I was one step closer to making my way inside the organization.

‘I’ll handle the blindfold,’ he said, and moved toward me.

I shook my head and leaned away from him, keeping my hand outstretched for the blindfold. ‘I’d prefer to put it on myself, if you don’t mind.’

‘I do mind. The sooner you let me, the sooner we’re on our way.’

I shifted forward, not wanting to comply but knowing I had no choice. When he placed the blindfold over my eyes his fingers were warm against me, and when they brushed my skin I’d never had such a reaction to a man’s touch before. I could barely keep myself still on the seat as the shock of arousal swept through me. The blindfold was soft and silky, and the most seductive male cologne I’d ever smelled wafted around me. I raised my fingers to touch it; they trembled as I felt the bottom edge of the blindfold against my cheeks. Leather. The outside was leather, and the inside was lined with satin. Something about that combination got my blood pulsing thick and slow, whirling in a seductive heat between my thighs.

This man was more than I’d bargained for.

‘You’re trembling.’ Hearing his sultry voice, it felt like he was inside my head. In every crevice and corner. Filling me until I was all him. Distracting me. And I was letting him . . . oh God, I was letting him.

I turned to him, unable to see his face and excited that I couldn’t.

‘I know.’ My voice was weak, and all I could do was whisper.

‘I like that.’ I felt his breath next to my neck, warm and inviting.

Holy shit. This man exuded sensuality. I was confused. How could he have me in such a state? I was not normally a fool for a man, but this one was making me forget the importance of what it was I was here to do. That couldn’t happen.

Then he must have leaned closer, because I felt him all around me. He filled my senses. My body and my soul. I knew instinctively that he would be amazing in bed. Would that opportunity ever present itself? Oh, I hope so.

I couldn’t sit still. He was so close I felt his body as if an electrical current were crackling between us and I squirmed on the seat, trying to ease the ache building in me. I turned my face to the window, hoping for some air to cool my flushed skin and help me refocus. I had to pull myself back together.

Was being blindfolded better than being able to see him? I wasn’t so sure. To see him in the dark, so intimate and close, would be almost as seductive as not being able to see him but knowing he was there. Especially not knowing how close he was sitting to me. Was he looking at me? I breathed in and caught his scent again; it mingled with that of the blindfold. I was overcome and drew in a breath when the helicopter lifted off. It tilted. I wasn’t prepared for it and I flung my arms out in attempt to keep my balance. My body lost its sense of up versus down and panic hit me in the chest. I knew I was high in the air, with nothing between me and the ground but the shell of this tin can of a helicopter.

One hand hit the window and the other hand him.

‘With great risk comes great reward. Just chill. We’ll be there soon.’

His voice filled my headset and I wondered if the pilot could also hear him. Would they both be able to hear me if I spoke? Could they both hear my rapid breathing? It sounded like a roar in my own ears. I settled back into the seat, but I couldn’t relax my muscles. Tension built in my neck and shoulders as I held myself rigid.

After a few minutes, I felt myself calm as the helicopter settled into a steady flight. It wasn’t choppy or jumping around in the sky, like I thought it’d be, and I let out . . .