Billionaire Boss Read Online Free Page B

with so much yearning, months since she’d allowed herself the sexual pleasure of one deep earthy kiss.
    She opened her mouth to him, selfishly taking what he had to offer. He didn’t disappoint. His scent filled her. Whereas she’d thought he’d smell of Bond Street cologne and plastic, instead her nostrils filled with man heat and leather. It was delicious.
    He pulled her farther into the hard wall of his body, his kiss deepening with his tongue. She released a nearly silent moan, her hands curling against his chest as he penetrated her mouth with lover’s strokes. Her legs weakened; her head grew light. Only her yearning remained sharp and hungry, driving her mindlessly toward ultimate satisfaction.
    His palm rubbed the inward curve of her waist, then made its way up her torso. She didn’t want sanity to intervene, but she knew if he cupped her breast she would be well on her way to sleeping with her boss. And that was unforgivable madness.
    Cold logic forced her return to earth.
    As if drugged, she pulled back from him, and with a kitten’s fury she spat out, “Look, I’ve heard about you. I know all about your conquests, all the beautiful girls. Hazel told me you’re the talk of Wall Street.” Her passion rose. “But I don’t want to be another conquest, okay? I don’t need the trouble. What I want—what I need is this job. I must have this job, and I won’t be able to keep it if you and I—well—if you and I—”
    Her frustration, sexual and otherwise, choked her. “Well, we won’t do it, okay? We just will not!” she cried before she ran down the creek to her horse and galloped all the way back to the stable.
    Â 
    â€œHazel, you’re setting me up,” Seth growled that evening in Hazel McCallum’s nineteenth-century parlor. Ebby, Hazel’s housekeeper, seemed to sense where the conversation was going and brought over the whiskey decanter.
    â€œYou calling me a sneaky varmint? Seth, you told me you needed a personal assistant, and I recommended one. Now look at you! Sitting there accusing me of rustlin’,” she said.
    Hazel, with her blue jeans and cowboy boots that were the perfect foil for her silver hair with its elegant chignon, nodded to Ebby to pour two stiff whiskeys.
    Seth waved his away.
    Hazel took hers, unable to hide the twinkle in her famous Prussian-blue eyes. She commented, “I always like a snort before dinner. Gets my blood up, don’t you think? Oh, but yours is already up, I guess….” She lifted the glass to her lips.
    He resentfully took his whiskey.
    â€œI really don’t think Miss Meadows is the type of woman I was looking for to fill the position,” he said in clipped tones.
    â€œWhy?” Hazel retorted good-naturedly. “Because she’s beautiful and smart? She’s fluent in five languages, too. I believe you’re only fluent in one, if my sources are correct.”
    Giving her his notorious icy stare, he said, “Yes, but I’m fluent in the only language that counts—money. So that makes me fluent in every language.”
    â€œKirsten Meadows doesn’t speak that language. Just you remember that, Seth.” Hazel turned serious.
    His mouth turned into a hard line. “I’ve never met a woman who didn’t speak it. Besides, that’s not what our dear Miss Meadows was saying on the phone about her ship coming in.”
    The aging cattle baroness studied him. “She’s not like those other women. You mark my words—she’s something you’ve never dealt with before, son, and God save you if you forget that.”
    He said nothing. The line of his mouth grew harder.
    Hazel laughed and refilled his glass.
    â€œNow, on to more pleasant talk,” she continued. “I meant to tell you that you’re hosting next week’s Mystery BBQ Sizzle. We have it once a year in the summer, and I usually