Lady Boss Read Online Free

difference, both of them had never been happier.
    â€˜And what kind of incredibly exciting evening do you have planned for us tonight?’ he asked sarcastically.
    Mary-Lou grinned. Whatever it was, she knew Steven would sooner stay home. He loved to cook, watch television, and make love – not necessarily in that order.
    â€˜We were supposed to see Lucky,’ she said. ‘But her secretary phoned to say she had to go out of town. So… I called my mother and asked her to join us.’
    â€˜Your mother!’
    Mary-Lou shook her head in exasperation. ‘You
looove
my mother. Quit giving me a hard time.’
    â€˜Sure I
looove
your mother,’ he mimicked, ‘only I
looove
my wife even better. Why can’t we spend a quiet evening at home, just you and me?’
    Mary-Lou stuck out her tongue and wiggled it at him. ‘That’s all you ever want to do.’
    â€˜Anything wrong with that?’
    â€˜Get outta here, Steven. Go to work. You’re
such
a nag.’
    â€˜Who, me?’
    â€˜Good
bye
, Steven.’
    He continued to defend himself. ‘Is it a criminal offence to want to be alone with my wife?’
    â€˜Out!’ Mary-Lou said firmly.
    â€˜One kiss and I’m history,’ he promised.
    â€˜
One
kiss only,’ she said sternly.
    One kiss turned into two, then three, and before either of them could help it they were back in the bedroom pulling off each other’s clothes and falling breathlessly on the bed.
    Making love to Mary-Lou was a sweet wild ride of mutual passion. Steven tried to be gentle with her, he was frightened of hurting the baby. Mary-Lou didn’t seem to care, she was full of exuberant love, pulling him close, wrapping her legs around his waist, rocking and rolling until she climaxed with a series of little screams.
    By the time they were finished he was ready for another shower and late for an appointment.
    â€˜Not my fault,’ Mary-Lou said primly as he raced from the house.
    â€˜Not your fault!’ he yelled, running for his car. ‘Face it! You’re an uncontrollable sex machine! How am I ever expected to get any work done?’
    â€˜Will you shut
up!
’ Mary-Lou hissed, standing at the door wrapped in a silk kimono, her pretty face alive with pleasure. ‘People will
hear
you!’
    At the office, Jerry Myerson, his closest friend and partner in the law firm of Myerson, Laker, Brandon, and Berkeley, waited impatiently in the reception area. ‘You’re late,’ Jerry reprimanded him sharply, tapping his watch as if he were anticipating an argument.
    â€˜I know,’ Steve replied, straight-faced. ‘Had to make love to my wife.’
    â€˜Very funny,’ Jerry snorted. He was a forty-eight-year-old playboy bachelor with the unshakable belief that once you got married your hard-on shrivelled up and died forever. ‘Let’s go,’ he said impatiently.
    It wasn’t often that Jerry Myerson and Steven Berkeley made house calls, though sometimes there were exceptions. The client they were on their way to see was an extremely rich woman called Deena Swanson. Deena was married to billionaire Martin Z. Swanson, President and owner of Swanson Industries – an all-powerful organization that owned major New York real estate, hotels, cosmetic companies, and publishing firms.
    Martin Z. Swanson was Mister New York, a charismatic man of forty-five with unlimited power and an insatiable thirst for even more. Deena had parlayed her position as his wife into one of importance. Early on she had hired a press agent to make sure she was known as much more than just the wife. From social butterfly and fashion plate, she had risen to fame, lending her name to everything from perfume to her own line of designer jeans. She figureheaded Swanson Style, one of her husband’s many companies. For five million bucks a year Deena made sure the name Swanson was always in the columns.
    The