Chapter 2 #2
"Open it." I wave a hand in the direction of the cover.
"Are you sure?"
"I won’t repeat myself," I snap.
She swallows, then reaches over and grabs the letter opener on my desk.
The neckline of her blouse dips, and I get a flash of her ample cleavage.
Jesus. H. Christ, she’s gorgeous. She’s perfectly curved, perfectly plus sized in a way that has me riveted.
The dip of her waist, the flare of her lush hips, and the turn of her shapely ankles have my pants growing uncomfortably tight.
She straightens and slits open the flap of the envelope. She pulls out what appears to be an ivory-colored card.
"Read it out loud," I order.
"The honorable Nelson Eddard, Earl of Duncastle, and Judith, Countess of Duncastle, are pleased to invite you to the wedding reception of their daughter Rosemary with Dean Thornton, the Fifth Duke of Thornton, on Tuesday the—"
"Bin it on your way out." I pretend to yawn, hoping she’ll take the hint and leave because I can’t take my gaze off her beautiful features. And that is unexpected. "And don’t bother me with such trifles in the future."
"It’s the society event of the year and tipped to be the next best thing to a royal reception."
"Boring." I turn back to my computer.
"Surely, it would be good for your profile to be seen there. It could result in positive publicity, which could only help with the image of the Davenports. Which, in turn, might help you to retain talent."
I frown. "Are you implying we’re not doing a good enough job of keeping our employees happy?"
When she doesn’t reply, I raise my gaze to hers.
She flinches but doesn’t look away. "Your last employee satisfaction survey speaks for itself.
" She pulls out her phone from the pocket of her skirt.
My gaze is drawn to the flare of her hips, the way the hem ends just above her knees, the stocking-clad, gorgeous calves which end in heels—which are patently ill-fitting.
Her fingers fly over the screen, then she slides the phone across the desk in my direction.
I take in the details on the screen. Overall employee satisfaction within the Davenport Group’s media division is below thirty percent.
"And you think something as cosmetic as being seen at a society reception will fix this?" I sneer.
"Not alone. But positive PR, accompanied by measures like subsidized food in the employee canteen, arrangements for childcare within the office complex, and flexible working hours, as well as matching donations to their favorite charities, will help raise the scores."
One of my brothers implemented similar measures in one of the other group companies. They exceeded their quarterly goals, too. But that doesn’t necessarily mean there's a connection between the two.
"Such actions will also give rise to employees moonlighting during office hours, not to mention slacking off," I counter.
"Not if they're held to tight deliverables."
"Hmm." She has a point. With clear parameters, there’s no reason these measures can’t be implemented with little extra effort. I haven’t paid that much attention to the company’s internal HR policies, nor to public perception, but clearly, that needs to change.
"Write it up and email it to me."
She nods.
Her instant agreement to my directives is a turn on.
Her quick thinking when it comes to equating an invitation to a society event with the possibility of improving the image of my company, combined with her knowledge of the facts needed to back up her suggestion, is not only impressive, but also bloody attractive.
And when she continues to stand there with her eyelids lowered, a whisper of emotion brushes up against my mind, eliciting one word: submissive.
Is she a natural submissive? Do I care if she is?
She’s my employee; doesn’t that make her off-limits? On the other hand, she’s the first person in this office I’ve exchanged more than a few words with—outside of Mary—and it’s stimulating.
Much as I relish being reclusive, I also enjoy being able to have a conversation with someone who doesn’t bore me. And who's easy on the eyes. I slide her phone across the desk and over to her.
She picks it up. "And the invitation?"
"Let them know I’ll be there.”
“Very good, Sir.”
Oh no, she didn’t. That 'Sir' at the end of the sentence has blood flowing to my groin. Definitely submissive.
Her features light up with a smile. Her brown eyes glow. Her sweet lips part to reveal white teeth and, suddenly, it feels hot in here.
She turns to leave, and I call out, "Oh, and Kelly?"
She pauses and scowls at me over her shoulder. "My name’s June."
I’m so taken in with the pout she’s wearing on her pink, rosebud mouth. A mouth that’s soft and seductive and hints at a lushness in her, a softness, I hunger to explore.
"Kelly." I say firmly and am rewarded with the deepening of her frown.
Her eyes flash fire, and pinpricks of interest stab at my chest. There are hidden depths to her that should keep me entertained for a while.
One reason to hope she outlasts the others.
Then, she pushes up the spectacles she’s wearing on her pert nose, and I realize the other reason to keep her around is that her sexy-librarian look does it for me.
Not that it makes a whit of difference. Soon, she’ll realize I’m not only disgusting to look at, but also disgusting on the inside, and she'll want to resign. But I’ll stay a step ahead.
I’m going to test her. I’ll give her the most impossible tasks to complete.
That way, she’ll understand that I’ve earned every bit of my reputation as The Beast. That way, I’ll push her limits until she quits.
It’s inevitable she leaves, but this way, I’ll be in control of the timelines.
Then she’ll be gone, and I can go back to working by myself.
I’ll no longer be in suspense about when she’s going to leave me.
It’s what prompts me to drawl, "I’ll be taking a plus one to the reception. ”
“Oh?” Her gaze widens. “Whose name should I put down for that?”
“Yours.”