The Garrisons: Parker, Brittany & Stephen: The CEO's Scandalous Affair. Sara Orwig

      Brittany ignored his outstretched hands by putting hers on her slender hips. “That’s Anna?” She frowned deeper. “She looks different.”

      “So is this a date or a business meeting?” Stephen asked.

      Parker pulled his sunglasses back on. “A little of both, my friends. A little of both.”

      They both opened their mouths to speak, but he slipped away with a half salute of goodbye before they could bombard him with questions he didn’t want to answer.

      Anna saw his silhouette before she could make out Parker’s face as he walked toward her, backlit by the early evening sun reflecting off the water. He moved like an athlete, so strong and in control of every muscle. He held his head high, his broad shoulders erect, his expensive suit draping perfectly over the body it was cut and sewn to fit.

      When, she wondered, would this man stop taking her breath away?

      She’d taken the job as his assistant knowing full well that she found him attractive. That hadn’t seemed like something that would be crippling. She thought it would add a nice, interesting dimension to her job—the handsome boss.

      But she hadn’t counted on him being so down-to-the-bone appealing. And she certainly hadn’t thought he’d ask her to travel with him and then kiss her senseless.

      Of course, to be fair, she had kissed him first.

      And there had been nothing senseless about it. She’d distracted him. And it had worked. But now they were going back to a strictly business arrangement that would stifle her attraction, and protect her from his digging into secrets that had to remain buried.

      As Parker approached, his gaze dropped, quickly but clearly, and his eyebrows twitched in a silent compliment.

      “You changed,” he said with a smile. “I like that dress.”

      She’d chosen something black, simple, ladylike. But the way he inspected her, she wondered if he could see right through it. “I had a little time, so I took a run when I got home.”

      “How long have you been running?” he asked.

      From the past? Darn near five years. “I started in high school,” she said. “Got hooked on the endorphin rush.”

      His lips tipped in a smile. “I know the feeling.”

      “But you get it from work,” she replied.

      “I get it from a lot of things,” he said, his voice so low and rich with implication she actually curled her toes as a hostess approached them.

      “Inside or out, Mr. Garrison?” she asked, her sky-blue eyes trained on him flirtatiously.

      But he didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he put a confident hand on Anna’s back and spoke to her. “I suggest we eat indoors because it gets a little raucous on the patio. Unless you’d prefer outdoor air.”

      “Inside is fine,” she said.

      “It’s more private,” he added, stepping a little closer. “Since you wanted to talk.”

      Yes, she did. And she couldn’t let that glint in his dark chocolate eyes or that sexy, musky scent distract her from what she’d come here to tell him.

      In a few minutes, they were seated in an alcove more like a bed than a booth, with a sheer privacy drape and a low table that practically begged the occupants to lie down and eat.

      “Yeah, this is private, all right,” she said, tugging at the skirt that rode up her thighs as she situated herself.

      “We can leave the drape open, if you prefer,” he said, shaking off his jacket and loosening his tie. She tried to swallow, but her throat had turned bone-dry and her hands itched to undo that tie even farther.

      “Need a drink, Anna?” he asked as if he noticed her problem.

      “Just water, please. I’m not drinking tonight.” She needed every last wit to deal with him.

      He ordered them both bottled water, which was delivered with tall, free-form cobalt-blue glasses of ice with curls of lemon and lime. While they sipped, he made small talk, mentioning that he’d seen his brother outside, telling her how the restaurant had changed since his sister had taken over ownership.

      “Are you close to Brittany?” she asked, suddenly curious. “She doesn’t call you much.”

      “We have our moments,” he told her with a wistful smile. “She’s definitely the more opinionated of the twins.”

      He told her a story from their childhood, something that proved his point about the difference between the twins, and Anna tried to concentrate on the details, but every minute or so her mind would drift to study the full shape of his lips, the marked cleft in his chin so like the ones all his siblings had.

      He continued the story and she caught a few snatches, but her gaze slipped to his hair, which was short but thick and a little longer in the front, so that when he lowered his head, a single lock would fall on his forehead.

      And his hands. God, she adored those hands. Like the feet, they were all size and strength. She watched his fingers close over the base of the water glass and remembered how they’d felt on her thigh, branding her with heat and desire.

      “Can’t you just imagine a seven-year-old girl doing that?” he asked.

      A little wave of panic dried her throat again. She had no idea what he’d said. “No,” she replied, hoping it was the right answer.

      His smile was slow and teasing. “No, you can’t imagine, or no, you didn’t hear a word I said?”

      Did he have to be so damn charming? That wasn’t making this any easier.

      Before she could answer, he leaned on one hand, the one that was perilously close to her hip, and trained that hot, dark gaze on her. “So, what’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

      Sweetheart. The endearment almost ripped her in half. Pulling up all her inner strength, she opened her mouth to say, “We have to be friends,” just as Brittany Garrison arrived at the table, carrying a plate of sushi appetizers.

      “I hate to interrupt this obviously important business meeting, but my chef has outdone himself in your honor.” She set the plate between them, but looked at her brother. “We wouldn’t want to falter in the kitchen now, would we?”

      Parker plucked a tuna roll and winked at her. “No, we wouldn’t, Britt. Do you remember my administrative assistant, Anna Cross?”

      Anna reached out to shake Brittany’s hand. “Hello, Brittany.”

      Brittany gave her a thorough assessment. “Of course we’ve met,” she said warmly. “But you only worked for him then. How long have you been dating?”

      “We’re not—”

      “Go away, Britt,” Parker said, shooing her with a tuna roll. “It’s bad business to annoy the patrons.”

      She merely shot him a sideways glance. “I need to know what night you want to reserve this place for Mother’s sixtieth surprise bash.”

      He popped the sushi and chewed, wiping his mouth with a linen napkin and nodding in approval. “Nice, fresh fish, Britt. Compliments to the kitchen.”

      “What night, Parker? I have a business to run so I need to know when I can and cannot accept reservations.”

      “Accept everything. We’re not doing it here. Adam’s having it at Estate.”

      Brittany’s elegant, sculpted jaw dropped and she snapped her arms across her chest. “We decided—”

      “Adam convinced me.”

      “Or you made another wholesale decision without discussing it with anyone else.”

      He