Royal Seductions: Secrets: The Duke's Boardroom Affair. Michelle Celmer

escape the feeling that she didn’t deserve his sympathy.

      “Do this one thing for me,” he coaxed, “and we’ll call it even. You won’t owe me and I won’t owe you.”

      She would have loved nothing more than to put this entire awful experience behind her and start fresh.

      “I would have to insist you pay me only an assistant’s wage,” she said.

      He looked surprised. “That’s not much.”

      “Maybe, but it’s fair.”

      “Fine,” he agreed. “If that’s what you want.”

      “How long would I have to stay?” she asked.

      “How about two months.”

      Yeah, right. “How about one week?”

      He narrowed his eyes at her. “Six weeks.”

      “Two weeks,” she countered.

      “Four.”

       “Three.”

      “Deal,” he said with a grin.

      She took a deep breath and blew it out. Three weeks working with the duke. It was longer than she was comfortable with, but at the very least it would give her time to look for another job. She had interviewed hundreds of people in her years at the Houghton, yet she had never so much as put together a résumé for herself. Much less had to look for employment. She barely knew where to begin.

      “I’ll have Penelope post an ad for the assistant’s position. I’ll leave it to you to interview the applicants. Then, of course, they’ll have to meet my approval.”

      “Of course.”

      “Why don’t we catch an early lunch today and discuss exactly what it is I’m looking for?” His smile said business was the last thing on his mind.

      Were they back to that again?

      If she was going to survive the next three weeks working for him, she was going to have to set some boundaries. Establish parameters.

      “I’m not going to sleep with you,” she said.

      If her direct approach surprised him, he didn’t let it show. He just raised one brow slightly higher than the other. “I don’t know how you did things at the Houghton, but here, lunch isn’t code for sex.”

      On the contrary, that’s exactly what it was. Practically everything he said was a double entendre. “I’m not a member of your harem.”

      One corner of his mouth tipped up. “I have a harem?”

      Was he forgetting that she’d listened to his phone messages? “I just thought I should make it clear up front. Because you seem to believe you’re God’s gift to the female race.”

      He shot her a very contrived stunned look. “You mean I’m not?”

      “I’m sorry to say, I don’t find you the least bit attractive.” It was kind of a lie. Physically she found him incredibly attractive. His personality, on the other hand, needed serious work.

      He shrugged. “If you say so.”

      He was baiting her, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a response. “Have a list of employment requirements to me by end of day and I’ll see that the ad is placed.” She already had a pretty good idea of the sort of employee he was looking for. More emphasis on looks than intelligence or capability. But she was going to find him an assistant who could actually do the job. And she would hopefully be doing it sooner than three weeks. The faster she got out of here, the better.

      “You’ll have it by five,” he said.

      “Thank you. I should get back to work.” She still had a backload of e-mail and phone messages to sort through.

      She was almost to her office when he called her name, and something in his voice said he was up to no good. She sighed quietly to herself, and with her hand on the doorknob, turned back to him. Ready for a fight. “Yes?”

      “Thank you.”

      “For what?” she asked, expecting some sort of snappy, sarcastic comeback or a sexually charged innuendo.

      Instead, he just said, “For sticking around.”

      She was so surprised, all she could do was nod as she opened the door and slipped into her office. The really weird thing was, she was pretty sure he genuinely meant it. And it touched her somewhere deep down.

      If she wasn’t careful, she just might forget how much she didn’t like him.

      It was almost four-thirty when Charles popped his head into her office and handed Victoria the list of employment requirements. And early, no less.

      “Are you busy?” he asked.

      What now? Wasn’t it a bit early for a dinner invitation? “Why?”

      “You up for a field trip?”

      She set the list in her urgent to-do pile. “I guess that all depends on where you want to go.” If it was a field trip to his bedroom, then no, she would pass.

      “I have a meeting at the palace in half an hour. I thought you might want to tag along. It would be a chance for you to learn the ropes.”

      A tickle of excitement worked its way up from her belly. Anyone who lived on Morgan Isle dreamed of going to the palace and meeting the royal family.

      But honestly, what was the point? “Why bother? I’ll only be working for you for three weeks.”

      “Yes, but how will you train your replacement if you don’t learn the job first?”

      He had a point. Although his logic was a little backward. But the truth was, she really wanted to go. After all, when would she ever get an opportunity like this one again?

      “When you put it that way,” she said, pushing away from her desk, “I suppose I should.”

      “A car is waiting for us downstairs.”

      She grabbed her purse from the bottom desk drawer and her sweater from the hook on the back of the door, then followed him through the outer office past Penelope—who didn’t even raise her head to acknowledge them—to the elevator. He was uncharacteristically quiet as they rode down and he led her through the lobby to the shiny, black, official-looking Bentley parked out front. Not that she knew him all that well, but he always seemed to have something to say. Too much, usually.

      They settled in the leather-clad backseat, and the driver pulled out into traffic. She wasn’t typically the chatty type, but she felt this irrational, uncontrollable urge to fill the silence. Maybe because as long as they were talking, she didn’t have to think about the overpowering sense of his presence beside her. He was so large, filled his side of the seat so thoroughly, she felt almost crowded against the door. It would take only the slightest movement to cause their knees to bump. And the idea of any sort of contact in the privacy of the car, even accidental, made her pulse jump.

      When she couldn’t stand the silence another second, she heard herself ask, “Not looking forward to this meeting?”

      The sound of her voice startled him, as though he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone. “Why do you ask?”

      “You seem…preoccupied.”

      “Do I?”

      “You haven’t made a single suggestive or inappropriate comment since we left your office.”

      He laughed and said, “No, I’m not looking forward to it. Delivering bad news is never pleasant.”

      He didn’t elaborate, and though she was dying of curiosity, she didn’t ask. It was none of her business. And honestly, the less she knew about the royal family’s business, the better.