In Bed with Her Boss. Brenda Jackson

Now he managed his family’s very profitable chain of mega automobile dealerships.

      “I hope she listens to him,” Pearl said glancing out across the yard. “I don’t think Megan Townsend appreciates Amber flirting with her fiancé.”

      Opal sighed. “Well, let me go. I won’t have time to go home and change so I’m going to have to wear what I have on,” she said, glancing down at the shorts and T-shirt she was wearing.

      “You look fine,” Pearl said. “Besides, it will do D’marcus Armstrong good to see you in something other than a business suit. Maybe now he’ll take a notice to you. You have great-looking legs so you might as well flaunt them.”

      Opal rolled her eyes. “I don’t want him to notice me. I just want him to pay me well for the job that I do and give me a good evaluation at the end of my internship.”

      “Hey, if I were you I would want him to notice me,” Pearl said chuckling. “The man might be a tyrant but he’s definitely a hunk, and a rich one. Tall, dark and handsome are the things dreams are made of. If I were you—”

      “But you aren’t me,” Opal said, laughing. “Just make sure our family and guests continue to have a good time. Let everyone know I had to leave for a while, but I’ll be back in an hour.”

      “If you’re not, just make sure Mr. Armstrong knows your sisters plan on coming over there to get you,” Ruby said.

      Opal returned her grin. “Okay, I’ll make sure he’s aware of it. I’m sure the last thing he wants is the Lockhart sisters showing up causing problems. I’ll be back later.” She dashed inside the house to get her purse.

      D’marcus Armstrong stood at the window of his office on the fifteenth floor and looked down into the parking lot below. His administrative assistant was arriving and she’d made good time. He had asked the ever-efficient Opal Lockhart to be there in thirty minutes and she had arrived in twenty.

      He watched as she got out of her car and began walking toward the entrance of the building. He had told her he needed her services right away so the only sensible solution to meet his demand was to come dressed as she was.

      And much to his displeasure, he rather liked it.

      He didn’t want to admit that he’d often wondered what she looked like in something other than those business suits she liked wearing. It was plain to see she had a very curvy figure in addition to her attractive features. But she was not one to flaunt them. Instead, she kept trying to keep them well hidden. Her shoulder-length hair was usually worn pulled back in a bun and her face, more times than not, was devoid of any makeup. However, there was something about her that always managed to catch his attention, anyway. Even the way she would arch her brow when she questioned him.

      He released a deep breath trying to recall at what point he had become attracted to Opal. Lord knows he’d tried not to notice certain things about her, but nothing seemed to work. So he’d tried putting as much distance between them as possible, which wasn’t easy given the nature of her job.

      He continued studying her, watching as she tossed her hair back from her face, and he suddenly realized this was only the second time he’d seen her hair worn in any style other than a bun on her head. He didn’t want to admit that even from fifteen stories up, she looked good.

      “Hey, I’m tired of waiting for this meeting to begin.”

      At first D’marcus refused to turn around to acknowledge the comment that had been made. Dashuan Kennedy was trouble. He’d known it from the first, yet his partners had insisted that they hire him to play for the Detroit Chargers, the professional basketball team of which D’marcus was part owner.

      “Armstrong, are you listening to me?”

      It was then that D’marcus turned around. Skimming the other two men in the room, his partners in the ownership of the Chargers, his gaze immediately settled on the man reclining in the largest chair as though he owned it. “To be quite honest with you, Kennedy, no, I’m not listening to you. But it will behoove you to listen to what the other owners and I have to say once this meeting is underway. Since you’ve been sidelined by your knee injury, you have done nothing but cause us problems, and, frankly, I’m within an inch of giving you your walking papers.”

      Kennedy stared back at him, and a cocky smile touched his lips when he said, “That’s bullshit and you know it. You can’t afford to let me go. Have you forgotten who was the MVP for most of last season? If you have, Armstrong, I’m sure these two men here remember.” He smirked, indicating the team’s other owners, Ronald Williams and Stanley Hennessy.

      “That might be true,” D’marcus replied. “But I’m sure, like me, they feel you can take that MVP and shove it, because we’re sick and tired of having to defend your behavior to the media. This time you have gone too far. Drugs and breaking team rules are two things that we won’t tolerate even if you’re Michael Jordan reincarnated.”

      The smirk on Dashuan’s face disappeared. “When my ankle heals and I start playing this season, you’ll know that I am the team and, without me, you can kiss the championship goodbye. Like I said, I’m sure these men know my worth, even if you don’t.”

      Anger rose in D’marcus’s face. Evidently Kennedy had forgotten that D’marcus owned the controlling interest in the Chargers. He decided he’d heard enough from a player who didn’t know the meaning of team work. He was about to tell him that just as Opal walked into the room. Upon seeing her, an inexplicable calmness settled over him. Not liking the sensation, he shifted his glance to the two men sitting at the table.

      “We can start the meeting now,” he said, coming away from the window to stand in the middle of the room. “My administrative assistant has arrived.”

      Trying to focus on the meeting to make sure her notes documented the entire proceedings, Opal stared down at her notepad. She hadn’t been surprised when she’d walked in to see bad boy, Dashuan Kennedy, being taken to task by D’marcus. This wasn’t the first time Kennedy had gotten into trouble and she had a feeling it wouldn’t be the last.

      She glanced up just as the sun shining through the window hit D’marcus at a angle that highlighted his looks. At the age of thirty he was a self-made millionaire who, in addition to being part owner of the Chargers, was CEO of Sports Unlimited, which was a conglomeration of sport franchises.

      As she stared at him, she had to admit that Pearl had been right in what she’d said earlier that day. D’marcus was a hunk. At six foot two, he had medium-brown skin, dark eyes, a clean-shaven face and short-cropped brown hair. Heads turned whenever he walked near women. And she was no exception. For no reason, he could make heated sensations flow through her whenever she was in a room with him.

      The majority of the time he barely noticed she was alive, going about the job of making his company successful. Unfortunately, she was always quick to notice him: How well the clothes he wore fitted his body, how muscular and toned that particular body was, how the deep, husky sound of his voice could make her think of things other than business.

      Even now, dressed in a polo shirt and a pair of jeans, he looked good, and she noticed as he moved around the room how the denim of his jeans stretched across muscular thighs and a firm butt. He also had a pair of lips that were very expressive. During the three months that she’d been working for him, she’d been able to decipher his mood just from watching his lips. And they were lips that were now moving again, she noted as she turned her concentration back on what he was saying.

      “I think that should wrap things up as far as what we’ll say during the press conference,” D’marcus concluded. “And I hope you understand, Kennedy, that, if you cause us any more problems, you run the risk of ending your career with this organization. Understood?”

      Opal watched as Kennedy narrowed his eyes. It was plain to see D’marcus had pissed him off.

      “Yeah, I understand,” he responded in a clipped tone as he stood.

      “Fine.