Wait a minute.
My gaze flies up, and I see a chiseled jaw, followed by a pair of familiar violet eyes—-
Oh God.
"Mr. V-Verhoff?"
His gaze dips down, and that's when I remember too late I am standing completely naked in front of him.
Stone
Nic and I shake hands with Emir Sheikh Khalil and Queen Harper at the end of our meeting, and we bow to the royal couple before taking our leave.
Once we're inside the elevator and on our way down to the lobby, that's the only time when my friend and I exchange grins and bump each other's fists. This is our biggest contract for the year, and if everything turns out well, we'll also be able to do business with other kingdoms in the Middle East.
I glance at my friend as we step out of the elevator. "Can Francesca join us for dinner tonight?"
"Actually..." Nic has a pained look on his face. "Can we celebrate next week instead?"
I look at him in surprise. "Has something happened?" Nic is usually big on traditions, and since starting our company almost a decade ago, we've always had dinner following any major deal we close.
"It's Mary..."
"Mary?" I'm bemused, to say the least. Mary is the perfect secretary, and I can't think of a single thing she could do that would cause the company trouble.
"My wife found out how Mary used to buy bikinis for Aimee."
This is news, even to me, and I don't bother hiding my displeasure. "Mary's our secretary, Nic. She's not supposed to buy things for your mistress—-"
"She only had to do it twice," Nic answers defensively, "and I only asked her to do it because I knew they've become friends."
"It still wasn't part of her job description—-"
"I know it isn't," Nic says irritably. "And I know it's not enough, but I did apologize to her afterwards."
"You should never have asked her to do something like that in the first place," I mutter.
Nic rolls his eyes. "Stop acting like I corrupted her or something. It's not like I ever asked her to buy condoms and told her my size—-"
"Did you ever?" I growl.
"Jesus, no!" Nic's tone is exasperated. "And trust me on this: even if I did ask her to do that, she wouldn't give a damn."
Nic sounds so certain about this, and it's pissing me off.
"You seem to know Mary extremely well," I drawl.
"She's been working us for three years," Nic retorts. "What's more inexcusable is the fact that you still hardly know her even after all this time."
"I know enough not to ask her to buy any fucking thing that hasn't to do with work—-"
"And yet I'm betting you have no idea it's her birthday today—-have you?"
Fuck.
My lips press together in a tight line. It's true that I had no idea Mary's celebrating her birthday today, but I have my reasons.
For the past three years, I've come to realize that the only way I can stop myself from fantasizing about fucking Mary is to only see her as a secretary and nothing else. Anything that hasn't to do with work, I don't give a damn about, and that's for her sake.
"Damn." Nic is shaking his head at me. "You didn't really know?"
I shove my hands into my pockets. "I'm sure Mary's professional enough not to mind."
Nic rolls his eyes. "She's still a human being, and everyone likes to feel appreciated once in a while."
"I'll give her a bonus then," I say brusquely.
"Or better yet—-you can join me tonight as I gatecrash her party."
"She's having a party?"
A grin tugs at the corner of Nic's lips. "Do you remember Elaine?"
The name calls to mind an image of a feisty silver-haired widow with a penchant for pearls and porn, and I'm equal parts amused...and puzzled. "You're talking about Francesca's mentor, aren't you? The one who's making bank because of her babysitter erotica?"
"She's made quite the impression, hasn't she?"
"That would be an understatement," I say dryly. "But I still don't get what she has to do with Mary."
"Elaine is the one throwing a surprise birthday party for Mary."
"But there's a catch," I guess. "Isn't there?"
"It's Elaine, after all. And in this case, she's hired a speed dating agency to send thirty male candidates to the party, and they're all there to ask Mary out."
My mood instantly turns murderous. "What the fuck?"
"It's supposed to be patterned after some reality show," Nic says with a shrug, and I find myself wondering broodingly if Mary's currently having the time of her life with thirty men competing for her attention.
Nic looks at me as we reach our respective cars. "So? Are you coming or not?"
I flash a smile even as I feel like killing someone.
"Where's the party?"
Thirty minutes later, and I'm still in the mood to break some limbs as I stalk past the rotating front doors of Westland Suites.