Surprise Seduction Read online

  Surprise Seduction

  by

  JANA MERCY

  Other books by JANA MERCY:

  Seducing the Old Flame

  Touched by a Thief

  Published with Ellora’s Cave:

  Her Last Fling

  Strip or Treat

  Underground Pleasure

  Published with co-author McKenna Chase:

  Her Big Bad Wolf

  Copyright 2012 Jana Mercy

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the author’s imagination, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown by the author, and all the incidences are pure invention.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by the law.

  Surprise Seduction

  “I don’t schedule meetings for after hours. I don’t make coffee. I don’t do take out. I don’t work overtime,” the latest interviewee ticked off one by one, pointing to a different finger with each item.

  Just what did she do? Chase Aaron leaned back in his oversized leather chair as he eyed the thin woman he interviewed this early February morning. Was she really the best applicant to work as an assistant to the company president? Her resume sure couldn’t prove it.

  She offered him a big-toothed smile from across his desk and he cringed at the mental image of her saying, “I’ll get you my pretty! And your little dog Toto, too.”

  If he threw his bottled water on her, would she melt right where she sat?

  Surely, they’d had more qualified applicants than this shriveled up reed who eyed him as if she’d like to pluck him apart for dinner?

  He picked up his water.

  Just in case.

  The previous candidate he’d interviewed hadn’t been any better. She’d annoyed the hell out of him with her lack of skills and incessant blinking. He’d caught himself blinking his own eyes more than once. How the hell had Blinky the Underqualified made the final cut?

  Currently, Kelly, a secretary borrowed from the secretarial pool, filled in until another assistant could be hired. She’d taken to leaning over and giving him a generous view of her assets. He didn’t need that kind of complication.

  That was Chase’s number one rule regarding women. He did not get sexually involved with women he directly worked with. Period. That rule had been the downfall of numerous assistants. But the last one had taken things too far when she’d stolen a shirt from his private office bath—-so she could sleep in it.

  He’d put in specific orders for his next assistant. Someone married or over forty.

  Perhaps he should have requested a man.

  Of course with the luck he’d had lately, any man who applied would turn out to be gay.

  Please let candidate number three be a secretarial version of Mary Poppins. Someone who would do her job to perfection, have the patience of a saint, and never under any circumstances view him as a piece of male prime beef.

  He flinched under the woman’s gaze as she continued to recite her “finer qualities”.

  “I don’t make excuses to girlfriends. I don’t pick up dry cleaning, and I expect the last Friday of each month off in addition to my regular vacation time.”

  He’d had enough.

  “Thank you for coming by,” he consulted the resume lying flat on his desk for her name, wondering how she’d ever gotten past human resources, “Miss Blake, but I’m looking for someone with a little more job flexibility. Thank you for taking the time to apply.”

  “Job flexibility? Hmf,” she heaved with a twitch of her scrawny face. “I’ve heard all the stories about you. It would only have been a matter of time before I’d have to sue you for sexual harassment anyway.”

  The woman stomped out of his office in a whiff of Eau de Repulsive. Sexual harassment his hind-end. He’d rather be neutered.

  Now for contestant number three. Who was left? Cruella Deville slash Captain Hook? He looked at his watch. She should be arriving in her furs and eye patch any minute.

  He shook his head at the lack of quality in the first two applicants. Quite certain his human resource manager was having a bit of fun at his expense, he walked to the door Miss Blake had left open on her broom ride from his office. He glanced around the reception area and saw only Kelly with her low cut, thigh-riding dress. She batted her eyelashes.

  Oh God. Please be third time lucky.

  Just as he started to go back into his office, a mousy looking woman stepped into the reception area. Nervousness clung to her like a second skin. Her loose gray suit with its white shirt buttoned high up her neck and the shapeless skirt that almost covered her ankles did nothing to accent her body. She might be stick straight or hiding luscious curves under the coarse clothes. Good. He considered that a major improvement over Kelly’s peek-a-boo outfit. And she wasn’t sporting black and white spots and wielding a hook--that counted for something.

  His gaze moved higher, taking note of plain brown hair pulled unattractively away from her face, tightly pinned to her scalp. He couldn’t begin to guess its length. She did have nice skin, although a bit pale. She had yet to look up from beneath thick lashes partially hidden behind the black, heavy-framed glasses she wore.

  She paused in front of Kelly’s desk.

  This shy mouse was number three? He’d talk to Sheila Downey in human resources before this day ended. She’d set him up. He was sure of it.

  “Can I help you, mous-miss?”

  Startled, the woman pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and glanced at him. Apparently, she hadn’t noticed him watching her from his office doorway. Big hazel eyes widened in surprise as she stepped back, bumping clumsily against the desk.

  He fought the urge to step back as well. The intensity in those eyes tugged at something deep within him, something foreign and totally different. He stared, not bothering to hide his curiosity about the feelings she stirred. Especially since she’d done nothing to try to improve her looks—quite the opposite. A beauty who slept beneath the curse of bad fashion and obvious lack of trying.

  After a moment of silence, he wondered if she could talk. Maybe Sleeping Beauty just squeaked. Would his kiss awaken her?

  He blinked, shocked at his thoughts. She wasn’t his type, despite that light in her blue-green gaze that demanded a response. He shook his head to clear his crazy thoughts. He was fairly certain she hoped to get a job working for him. If she needed kissed, someone else would have to do the honor. Co-workers and kisses didn’t mix. Not in his office.

  “I’m here for the interview with Mr. Aaron.”

  Her voice hadn’t been much louder than a squeak. He was having difficulty shaking the mouse image from his mind. Despite his mixed emotions about his unusual reaction, he repressed an amused smirk.

  “That would be me.” Not wanting to chuckle in front of her, he turned and walked back into his office. From the looks of his slumbering princess, it wouldn’t take much to send her into a fit of tears.

  Lord help him, tears got him every time.

  Adrienne stood at the desk and mentally picked her lower lip off the floor.

  That was Chase Aaron?

  The photos she’d studied over the past few weeks hadn’t done him justice.

  No wonder women lost their heads around him. Actually, clothes seemed to be what most women lost while in his company according to her dear friend and his human resource manager, Sheila Downey.

  Chase Aaron epitomized the word hunk. Six-foot two inches of gorge
ous male flesh graced with the most intense green eyes she’d ever seen. Thick, brown hair with sun-kissed tips fell in a short, sexy style just long enough for a woman to run her fingers through. His nose crested in a superior male slant, and his cheekbones arched high on his face. The dimples she’d glimpsed deepening at his apparent amusement nearly undid her resolve.

  How would she be able to work for him, keep up this act, when just the sight of him took her breath away?

  Ability to breathe or not, she needed this job working closely with Chase Aaron, president of Weston Pharmaceuticals. There wasn’t any other way to learn what she needed to know about her father’s company. She swallowed her pain at thoughts of her late father. No, now wasn’t the time for more tears.

  She cast a quick, unsteady glance at the curvy redheaded receptionist. The woman’s gaze traveled up and down Adrienne’s sexless attire in barely contained laughter.

  Adrienne squinted behind glasses she didn’t really need, and looked down at the gray suit she’d carefully chosen at a second-hand store for this interview. To someone like the well-endowed woman, she imagined she looked like a lumpy sack of rocks. That’s probably how Chase had seen her, too.

  Perfect. That’s just what she and Sheila had planned. What they hadn’t planned was her heart racing when her gaze met his, the strong sense of recognition. Which was ridiculous. If she’d met Chase, she’d never have forgotten.

  Nor would her plan have had any chance of working.

  But she’d spent most of the last few years jet-setting with her mother around the world and volunteering with various charity events. No one at Weston’s would recognize her, save perhaps George Weston himself and he hadn’t seen her in person for at least ten years.

  “He’s waiting.” The stand-in secretary’s amused voice directed her to follow God’s gift to women into his office.

  The urge to run almost overcame her.

  There isn’t any other way to save your father’s business--not unless you want to marry Roger.

  Her spine stiffened, and she stood her ground.

  She needed to prove her ability as more than a piece of ornamental fluff. Certainly, no one in Chicago would believe her capable of more than shopping till she dropped with various charity events thrown in for good measure.

  Maybe that belief had been well founded at one time, but not anymore.

  Working with Chase would be her only chance to discover the truth. Although she’d heard her father mention his name with trust and admiration, she’d never met him before today.

  Regardless, she didn’t want to go home with her tail tucked between her legs. If keeping her stepfather from controlling her life meant deceiving Chase Aaron, she would. Despite what her father had thought, she didn’t need a man to take care of her--especially not her stepfather who thought her a mindless fool he could manipulate like he did her mother.

  She entered Chase’s office with renewed determination and looked around at the aloof décor of the room. Large open windows lined the outer wall, running from floor to ceiling. Plush gray carpet covered the floor. A sleek black monstrosity of a desk commandeered the center of the light gray room. Two black leather over-sized chairs faced the desk. A long, luxurious matching sofa lined one wall, bare except two nouveau paintings that she’d bet authentic.

  Modern. That’s what his office screamed. Modern, sophisticated and impersonal. Black, white, and gray. As if he couldn’t commit to anything with color or substance. The room had a new car smell. Expensive and untouchable.

  She sat in one of the black chairs while he watched. The desk separating them offered no protection from his powerful presence.

  “Sheila Downey highly recommends you. Do you think you can handle the job duties she outlined during your interview?”

  Adrienne straightened her skirt and considered his question. Be a frumpy assistant who doesn’t flirt with her boss? Sure, she could pull that off.

  She risked a quick look. Despite his phenomenal looks and magnetic sex appeal, Chase didn’t have anything to fear from her. Letting a man get close to her physically, or emotionally, held no allure. Not after Roger.

  Still Chase’s utter maleness could make a woman think twice.

  “Yes, sir. I’m the right applicant for the job,” she answered, albeit a bit breathily. Sheila believed she could pull this off, and she would find a way. Her friend was risking her own job by helping.

  After being grilled by Chase for fifteen minutes, Adrienne fought a sigh when he leaned back in his chair to eye her thoughtfully.

  “Do you have any specific job requirements or expectations?”

  What did he mean job requirements? Sheila, nor the professional they’d hired to train Adrienne in the basic job requirements of working as Chase’s assistant, hadn’t prepared her for this question.

  “None.” She stared at her hands. Had he recognized her?

  He nodded and relaxed back against the midnight leather.

  “Did Sheila explain the problems I’ve had with assistants in the past?” His tone purred, smooth as silk, but his eyes remained keenly observant.

  “Yes, sir, she did mention your history. You won’t have any problems from me.” Her gaze fell back to her clasped hands.

  “How can you be so sure?” Apparently her confident words stirred his curiosity because he continued, his voice dropping to a more sultry tone. Almost flirtatious. “Don’t you think you’d enjoy working ‘closely’ with me, Adrienne?”

  Adrienne blinked. She’d never imagined her name could sound so exotic. She risked a glance and spotted the glimmer in his eyes. He was testing her, seeing if she’d respond to his carefully chosen words.

  Damn his arrogance and all men like him.

  She’d endured enough hurt at a man’s hands this week. Not just one, but two. Now Chase Aaron wanted to play games?

  Something deep inside snapped. She straightened her spine and, much to her own amazement, played her designated role with the finesse of a Hollywood actress.

  “I’m sure most women would enjoy working ‘closely’ with you, Mr. Aaron. I, however, do not fall into that category. I would be here to do my job, not you.”

  He chuckled, although she felt certain he hadn’t meant to.

  She gazed directly into his to-die-for eyes, feigning total indifference, despite the way her stomach flip-flopped.

  “You don’t find yourself wanting to work ‘closely’ with me, at all?” He bordered on incredulity.

  “No, sir,” she said and offered what she hoped qualified as a supercilious smile. She resisted the urge to fake a yawn.

  “How can you be so sure you won’t change your mind a month from now? Two months from now?” His gaze narrowed on her as if he studied a rare disease under a microscope. His pupils had darkened with pure disbelief.

  Chase Aaron had a major ego problem.

  He just couldn’t fathom a plain Jane like her not wanting him. He could never learn the truth. Besides, she took feminine pleasure in knowing she would throw this arrogant, self-confident man a major league curve.

  “I can be sure, because no man attracts me.”

  “No man?” His sharp look questioned. He ignored that she’d dropped his play on words and cut straight to the heart of the matter. “You mean you haven’t met Mr. Right yet?”

  Adrienne hid a smile and called on every downtrodden female who’d ever walked the face of the earth to give her strength. She reminded herself of the old adage—desperate people do desperate things.

  Her father’s will stipulated she had six months to either convince the board of directors she was qualified to run Morrigan’s conglomerate, be married, or her mother would control her inheritance--essentially meaning her step-father would be running her father’s company.

  Everyone had something to gain by her failing—the board members, Roger, her step-father. Even Chase. No one was going to willingly teach her the inside ropes of this company unless she took the initiative.

  Yes, des
perate people did desperate things, and she was about as desperate as desperate got.

  “I’m not looking for Mr. Right.” She paused dramatically, letting each of her words roll slowly from her tongue. “Because I prefer Miss. Right.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Did he go for it?” Sheila Downey asked as Adrienne collapsed into a chair across from Sheila’s desk.

  “Oh yeah. He went for it. He bought my disguise hook, line, and sinker.” Adrienne shifted in the chair.