The Expectant Secretary. Leanna Wilson

      “I don’t want my assistant fainting every day.” His eyes narrowed and he studied her face. “You look…” His pause made her too aware of how much his opinion mattered. Why did she have the feeling he wasn’t about to say she looked ravishing? “Pale,” he finally said, his voice filled with concern.

      “I’m fine.” But she wasn’t.

      “Are you sure?” He closed the gap between them.

      “Y-yes.” Her voice vibrated with uncertainty.

      He bracketed her shoulders with his hands, rubbing, chafing her skin beneath the thin jacket separating his skin from hers until she thought he might start a fire inside her. “You’re a bundle of nerves.”

      “I’m fine,” she protested, and took a step back.

      He released her but leaned closer, his warm, clean scent surrounding her, his minty breath caressing her ear. She could see nothing beyond his wide shoulders that were covered by the metallic-gray suit. “Do I make you nervous?”

      “N-no.” She glared at him. Shocked, horrified, irate at his perception, at the truth pounding in her chest, she refused to admit it even to herself and snorted her derision. Oh, God! She actually snorted. A burning heat stung her cheeks. “Of course not.”

      “Good.” He touched her elbow and wild sensations shimmied down her spine. “I wouldn’t want what happened the other day…” He paused, inclining his head, dropping his voice to a husky whisper, reminding her of the primitive, erotic kiss they’d shared.

      Just what she needed—another reminder! Her stomach tumbled over itself. She should have eaten breakfast. But the thought of even dry toast had made her feel green around the edges.

      “…to get in the way of our work,” he finished.

      “It won’t.” She wouldn’t—couldn’t—let it. Because she needed this job too much. A whole lot more than she needed Brody Fortune. Or empty promises.

      “A swanky joint you’ve got here, mate.”

      The strange voice jerked them apart. Brody looked past Jillian toward the door to his office and an instant grin split his chiseled features. Jillian spun around to see who had intruded on them in such a compromising situation.

      “C’mon in, Griff.” Brody brushed past her, his arm grazing her shoulder, reminding her how close they’d been standing. Way too close. He clapped the man’s shoulder.

      “They must think you’re important around here.” The man had the same Australian accent as Brody, but his voice didn’t make her temperature rise. He glanced around the office, tastefully decorated in bold, opulent colors that matched Brody’s personality.

      The stranger’s gaze landed on her. He had nut-brown eyes that looked as if they were shadowed with wariness. “Griffin Fortune.”

      Another Fortune. Just what she needed. What had they all done? Swarmed the border? Defected? She wished they’d all go back to Australia and leave her alone.

      “This is Jillian Hart—”

      “Tanner,” she corrected Brody.

      She noticed Brody’s smile harden into a scowl and took pleasure in his lips thinning, the brackets around his mouth tightening. He turned his attention back to his brother. “Have a seat, Griff.”

      She remembered Brody telling her about Griffin once, so many years ago. He hadn’t been born a Fortune, he’d been adopted by Brody’s parents and raised on the Crown Peak Ranch in New South Wales. His features were not similar to Brody’s. Griffin’s hair reminded her of pecan pie, whereas Brody’s black hair made her think of rich, dark chocolate. She wondered why she still compared every man to Brody. Irritated at herself, she decided it was only natural since the two men were brothers. But she had to stop doing that.

      She almost laughed at her latest food craving. She compared everything to food these days. When her stomach rumbled angrily that she hadn’t fed it recently, she clutched the folders against her abdomen, hoping to muffle the sound.

      Taking this opportunity for a few minutes of privacy to get her thoughts and feelings about Brody under control and her mind back on work, she headed for the outer office.

      “Jillie?” Brody stopped her.

      “I know, two cups of coffee. I’ll be right back with them.”

      He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

      She paused with one hand on the door, eager for escape.

      Slanting a glance at his brother, Brody gave a slight what-the-hell shrug then pulled a white lunch sack from behind his desk. He brought it to her. “Here.”

      Confused, she stared at the sack. “What do you want me to do with this?”

      “It’s for you.” He lowered his voice to a husky whisper and cut his eyes toward Griffin who sat in the copper-colored suede chair opposite Brody’s desk.

      “Me? But what—”

      “It’s a bagel,” he answered before she could finish her question. “Eat it. I can’t have you fainting anymore.” He turned on his heel, dismissing her, and walked back to his desk.

      His words were brusque, but the sentiment surprised her. It was a simple gesture. Logical, even. But somehow the sweetness of it touched her.

      “I’ll be back with that coffee,” she muttered.

      She closed the door behind her and sank into the chair at her desk. Slowly she opened the paper sack he’d given her. A warm, yeasty scent rose to greet her. Her heart fluttered like a butterfly’s wing beneath her breastbone.

      He’d remembered. Oh, God, he’d remembered that she loved blueberries. When was the last time a man had given her something? When had a man looked out for her welfare? Or even tried to please her? Hot tears scalded the backs of her eyes.

      She sniffed. Hormones, she thought. That’s all it is. She wouldn’t give in to the weak emotions. She certainly wouldn’t allow Brody back into her heart.

      “Oh, shoot,” she mumbled to herself. “I forgot to get the coffee.” She pushed herself up from her chair.

      Maybe the blueberry bagel was a peace offering. Fine. She could accept it for that. But nothing more. She knew Brody was the love-one, love-’em-all kind of man. Too much like James. And definitely not the kind for her.

      “Some assistant you have there,” Griffin commented, templing his fingers in front of his mouth to hide a smirk. “What’s she assisting you with?” His broadening grin aggravated Brody.

      “Merging these two companies. That’s all.”

      “Uh-huh. I can see you’ve got a merger—” he winked “—of some kind on your mind.”

      Brody frowned and opened a file folder in front of him. “How’s everything at the Double Crown?”

      “A cyclone of activity.”

      Glancing up from the accounting profile, Brody leaned back in his chair. “The wedding have things stirred up?”

      “Our big brother sure got lassoed by that sheila. Reed’s making everybody bend over backward to make this wedding a blasted fairy tale. Guess I can’t blame him. Mallory’s some woman.”

      Brody chuckled at his older brother having finally been bitten by love. “She’d have to be to handle Reed.”

      A discreet knock on the door signaled Jillian’s return. She carried in a tray with two cups of steaming, fragrant coffee along with packets of sugar and cream. After depositing the tray on the table beside Griffin, she retreated without a word. Or a look in Brody’s direction. He couldn’t help but watch her petite hips rock from side to side in a subtle alluring fashion.

      He