A Billionaire Punishes Part 1 (Erotic Romance) (3 page)

“How is old Johnny these days? Still in good
shape?”

“Still going strong,” I said, wondering why
Celeste had failed to brief me on this ‘upgrade’ of my résumé.

“He is?” said Remington with a frown. “So
all that talk about his debilitating stroke is highly exaggerated
then, is it? Last I heard he could barely remember his own name.
Oh, well. Just goes to show you shouldn’t believe everything you
hear.”

“Exactly,” I said a little uncertainly.
Well, he certainly was right about that. I just hoped no more
surprises would pop up in the course of our conversation.

“Now how much do you know about the flower
business?”

He’d led me into his office, which was
roomy, airy and done up in the same floral motif as the rest of the
place. I just couldn’t figure a guy like him running a business
like this, and dressing up his office as if it were a girl’s
playroom.

“Did… you design all this?” I said, not able
to curb my curiosity.

He grinned, flashing me those stunning
pearly whites once more, and lowered his gaze. “You got me. No, I
didn’t. Gladys did, actually. My former secretary? Too bad you
can’t meet her. She’s on a Caribbean cruise right now. Met mister
right on Sunday, got engaged on Monday and one month later she was
walking down the aisle and I was minus one damned great secretary.
Why, don’t you like what she did to the place?”

“No, I like it,” I hastened to say. “It’s
just that…”

“It’s not really me? You’re probably right.
Still, I like it. It’s like working in a flower shop, which of
course this basically is.” He gave me a comical face and in spite
of my nervousness I laughed.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “When I’m nervous I
start babbling.”

He’d taken a seat behind his desk, which was
strewn with papers and stacks of brides magazines for some reason,
and gestured at a white plastic swivel chair in front of it.

“Sit down. Let’s get to know each another.
I’m Remington—Rem for my pals. I’m 28, single, youngest in a nest
of five brothers, I like horse riding, long country walks, hiking
and… flowers, of course. What about you, Erin? What makes you
tick?”

“Well, I’m Erin,” I began, but he
interrupted me.

“And even more importantly, what motivated
you to apply for this job?”

“That’s easy,” I said. “Who wouldn’t want to
work for the fastest growing small business in town? Besides, like
you, I love flowers. I actually used to work for Flowers For You…”
My voice trailed off. Dammit. The last thing I should have told him
was the first thing out of my mouth!

His eyebrows flickered up at these words.
“Oh? You used to work for Celeste Carter? How did that happen?”

“Oh, just something I stumbled into,” I
said, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks when I realized that
Celeste most probably hadn’t included that little tidbit of
information in my file.

He frowned and dug a piece of paper from
under a stack, smoothed it out and glanced at it. “When was that?”
he said.

“It’s been a while. I was only there for a
couple of weeks,” I said, my mind working rapidly. “Just temping. I
don’t think I even mentioned it in my CV.”

“No, you didn’t,” he said, eyeing me
curiously.

“Didn’t seem worthwhile to mention,” I said
with a shrug.

He seemed to deliberate for a moment, then
relented. “You know, that makes you even more perfect for the job.
You knowing a bit about the flower business, I mean.”

Phew. I could breathe again. “That’s one of
the reasons I applied for this job,” I said. “I like the business
but not…”

“Not Celeste?” He smiled. “Can’t blame you.
She’s a tough cookie, isn’t she?”

“She is,” I agreed, “a pretty tough
cookie.”

“Well, if you used to work for her, you’ll
find working for me a walk in the park. I’m the best boss in the
world. And before you start accusing me of extreme self-delusion,
those are not my words, but my former secretary, the amazingly
talented and now extremely married Gladys.”

The conversation, after having taken a wrong
turn, seemed back on the right track, and I relaxed, even going so
far as to cross my legs and sit back in my chair. Apart from
looking like God’s gift to women, Remington was a great guy. With a
pang of regret, I thought of the real reason I was here.

The idea of having to spy on this wonder man
so Celeste could compete him out of business bothered me more and
more with each passing minute spent in the man’s company.

Remington leaned forward, and put his hands
on his desk. “I think you and I are going to get along like
gangbusters,” he said. “High five?”

“Yup,” I said, forcing myself to smile, and
slapped the outstretched palm of his hand. “High five.”

Remington wondered if he should say
something or not. He’d noticed the hunted look that had come over
this new secretary of his the moment the name Celeste was
mentioned. He couldn’t help but wonder if something fishy was going
on, and the more he thought about it, the more he was certain there
was.

Of course he’d recognized her the minute
he’d seen her waiting for the elevator downstairs. The agency had
been so kind as to send him Erin’s picture along with her detailed
resume. If her resume looked too good to be true, her picture had
looked even better. He’d expected something along the lines of
Gladys: the middle-aged, motherly type, and when he saw the
stunning young woman smiling back at him from the page, he’d felt a
definite stiffening of his cock at the mere sight of her.

Seeing her in the flesh, she’d looked even
better than he’d imagined, and the thought of bedding her hadn’t
been far from his thoughts ever since.

God, she was gorgeous. Petite, flame-haired,
cute-faced and drop-dead gorgeous. And those big, hazel eyes. So
enchanting. He knew she probably wasn’t everyone’s taste. His older
brother Templeton, for example, was more into the buxom type of
girl. He’d met Templeton’s fiancée Sarah Brooks at the house last
month, and she was exactly that: large-breasted and completely
natural. He’d flirted with her, more out of habit than real
interest—far be it from him to interfere with his brother’s love
life.

Erin Gould was everything Sarah Brooks
wasn’t: she was slender, boyish and pretty much flat-chested from
what he could discern through the white blouse she was wearing.
Standing next to her in the elevator, he practically couldn’t wait
to strip off her clothes and have a peek at the girl beneath. Then
later on, when it turned out she wasn’t merely beautiful but smart
and funny, it was decided: he just had to have her.

At least, if she wasn’t a spy working for
Celeste Carter, of course.

He leaned forward, supporting his elbows on
the desk, and pursed his lips. “What color lip gloss is that you’re
wearing?” he said.

“Peach,” she said hesitantly.

“It suits you,” he said. “Brings out the
color of your hair. Is that natural, by the way? Your hair I
mean?”

“Yes, it is,” she said, squirming a bit in
her seat.

“I like it,” he said. “Don’t you go and
color it now. You look perfect just the way you are.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said with a slight
frown.

He coughed and leaned back, realizing he was
way out of line here. “I’m just saying this because, erm, as my
private secretary you’re my main representative to both customers
and suppliers, so it’s important that you project the, um, the
right image.”

“I see,” she said skeptically.

Yep, she wasn’t born yesterday.

“Personally, I couldn’t care less if you
painted your hair blue and wore yellow lipstick,” he added with
studied nonchalance.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I have no
intention of changing my personal appearance any time soon.”

“Good,” he said. “Very good. Now if you will
follow me? I would like to show you your office and give you a tour
of the company.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, and he could see the
relief etched on her face. The hard part was over. The job was
hers. He wondered what she thought of him. Was she at all attracted
to him? He really couldn’t tell. In the elevator he had the
impression she kinda liked him, but the moment he’d outed himself
as the big boss, she’d changed tack and had totally clamped up and
turned all professional on him. Too bad.

“Oh, there’s one thing I’d like to ask,” she
said when he got up.

He arched an eyebrow. “Yes?”

She wriggled in her seat again, and looked
up at him like a kid about to ask permission to go to the movies.
“I have this friend, see. Her name is Tamara Dunkle? She works at
Flowers For You—that’s how we met. She’s a really great customer
service agent—everyone loves her.” She coughed and squirmed some
more in her seat.

“Yes?” he said, loving the way her cheeks
flushed. When she was flustered she looked even more beautiful.

“Well, the thing is, Tamara is a great
admirer of Hearts & Flowers. She’s been following your success
story since you opened business. And she would simply love to work
here.”

“Oh?” he said, arching his other eyebrow.
He’d walked over to her side of the desk and now leaned casually
against it.

“So, erm…” she said, her eyes shining from
excitement and nervousness. “Well, see, the thing is that I
promised Tamara I’d put in a good word for her, and… Well, um,
sir…” Her voice trailed off under his close scrutiny.

“You know, Erin,” he said sternly. “There’s
one thing that I don’t tolerate from the people working for
me.”

“Yes, sir?” she said in a small voice,
wringing her hands. He’d noticed she wasn’t wearing a ring, which
was good. He wondered if she had a boyfriend.

“I really don’t like all this ‘sir’ stuff.
It’s either ‘Remington’ or nothing at all. Understood?”

“Yes, sir, I mean, Remington, sir.”

“And one other thing.”

“Yes… Remington?”

She was now gazing up at him with such a
look of nervous anticipation, he had a hard time resisting the urge
to sweep her off her feet and upset that peachy lipstick with his
lips before pressing her nimble body close to his. His cock was so
engorged it was starting to get painful.

“Give your friend Tamara a call. I’m sure
we’ll find a place for her at Hearts & Flowers.”

He grinned as he watched her face light
up.

“You’re really—” he said, but before he
could finish his sentence with ‘lovely’, he managed to restrain
himself. He had no business hitting on his secretary on her first
day at the job. Instead, he said, “—a good friend.

“She’s the one who told me about this job,”
she said. “If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t even be here.”

“Then God bless Tamara Dunkle.” He held out
a hand and she took it, gratefully. “Let’s show you around, shall
we?”

“Yes, Remington,” she said with a smile that
set his world on fire.

Feeling her slender fingers in his, he was
overjoyed, even though he wanted more. Much more. But for now,
merely holding her hand would suffice.

The sight of that giant bulge in Remington’s
pants had not escaped me. The moment he’d perched on the desk in
front of me, his package straight in my line of sight, the thought
of reaching out and simply placing my fingers on that monster cock
of his, clearly straining to be released from the confines of his
jeans, had made me lose focus for a moment there.

Sometimes when my mind is preoccupied with
something, my mouth tends to follow in its wake, and I’d had to
make a conscious effort not to mention the fact that I’d wanted to
jump his bones right then, right there. The man was simply a God.
Not only was he sexy as hell, but funny and smart as well. And
judging from the way he positioned himself in front of me, I could
tell he liked me too.

Which was odd, of course. Didn’t men like
Remington Carswell fall for tall blondes with a huge rack and a
perpetual tan? Pretty much the opposite of me? If he did dig the
quirky secretary with the peach lip gloss, score for the home
team!

When he took my hand in his, my heart jumped
at his touch. His strong fingers enveloped my hand in a firm grip,
and for a moment I wondered how that same hand would feel grasping
my tits—or my pussy?

Don’t go there, Erin, I told myself, as he
led me to my new desk. Don’t be the cliché secretary. You have a
job to do here, so focus!

“You like it?” a voice penetrated my jumbled
mind.

“Huh?” I said with my customary eloquence.
“Oh, the desk. Yeah, it’s great.”

Then I blinked. He’d simply led me around
his office and now we were right back where we started: at his
desk.

“But this is your desk, right?” I said,
confused. What’s more, he was still holding my hand, and the
sensation sent shivers racing down my spine. Never let go,
Remington, I mentally urged him. Never let me go.

“No, this is your desk,” he said with that
warm smile of his—dimples!

“But…” I sputtered.

“I don’t really have a desk around here,” he
said. “They tell me it’s the modern way of doing business. The boss
moves around, never settling down in one place, always available
for anyone to have an impromptu meeting.” He grimaced. “Don’t know
if I like it, but it seems to work.”

He let go of my hand, then, to clear away
some of the debris on the desk—my desk.

“This stuff all belongs to Gladys,” he said,
pointing at the large collection of brides magazines. “Feel free to
throw away what you don’t need. I’m sure she won’t mind, otherwise
she would have taken it with her.”

“Great, thanks,” I said, looking around the
spacious office with different eyes, now that I knew it was mine.
Then, just when I was about to make a little victory dance, I
remembered I was only here as Celeste’s gun for hire, and this
office wouldn’t be mine for a very long time.