Emma Darcy - Australia - In Bed with the Boss - The Marriage Decider / Their Wedding Day / His Boardroom Mistress

“Not yet,” came the cheerful reply. “Something must have held him up.”

Jake was an early bird, invariably in his office ahead of Amy. She was intensely relieved to hear he was late this morning, giving her time to get herself together before those yellow wolf eyes of his noted anything amiss.

She certainly didn’t need the humiliation of having to explain why her mascara was running, which it probably was from her furious blinking. Moisture had to be clinging to her lashes. She pressed the elevator button, willing the doors to open instantly.

“Have a good weekend?” Kate asked, addressing Amy’s back, blithely unaware of any problem.

Amy half turned, not wishing to appear totally rude. “No. It was the pits,” she blurted out, giving vent to some of her pent-up emotion.

“Oh! Guess things can only get better,” Kate offered sympathetically.

“I wish,” Amy muttered.

The elevator doors obligingly opened. The ride up to the floor she shared with Jake was mercifully brief and she headed straight for the washroom to effect repairs. Once safely enclosed in privacy she tore tissues from the box on the vanity bench and began wiping away the smeared make-up around her eyes.

She couldn’t afford to look as though she was falling apart. As Jake Carter’s personal assistant, she had to stay on top of everything, as well as maintain the class image of the company. Wide Blue Yonder Pty Ltd . sold its services to the mega-rich who had no tolerance for bungling. Perfection was expected and perfection had to be delivered. Jake had drummed that into her from day one.

Two years she’d been working with him and she knew him through and through. Nothing escaped his notice and she needed cast-iron armour to stop him from getting under her skin. He was a brilliant salesman, a masterly entrepreneur, a stickler for detail, and a dyed-in-the-wool womaniser.

He was certainly single, and frequently unattached, but the chance of forging anything but a brief physical affair with him was nil. She couldn’t help fancying him now and then—no woman alive wouldn’t—but Amy had too much self-esteem to ever allow herself to be used for fun. Casual intimacy did not appeal to her.

Jake was into experiences with women, not relation-ships, the more exciting and varied the better. To Amy’s accumulated knowledge, he had a low threshold of in-terest in any woman. They came and went with such regularity, she lost track of their names.

Though they did have one thing in common. They were all stunning to look at and made no secret of their availability to answer any need Jake Carter might have for them. He didn’t have to chase. He simply had to choose.

Jake the rake, Amy had privately christened him. As far as she could see, he never scratched more than the surface of those who rolled through his life. Amy had figured very early on that keeping an impervious surface to Jake Carter was a prime requirement for keeping her job. Let other women fall victim to his animal magnetism. She had Steve.

Except she didn’t anymore.

Tears welled again.

She stared at the soggy mess of herself in the mirror, battling the sense of defeat that was swamping her. Maybe she should dye her hair blonde. The ridiculous thought almost made her laugh. Her emphatically arched eyebrows and the double rows of lashes were uncompromisingly black, her eyes such a dark blue they were almost violet. She’d look stupid as anything other than a brunette.

Besides, she liked her hair. It was thick and glossy and the feathery razor cut around her face gave the shoulder-length bob a soft frame for her rather angular features. She didn’t mind them, either. The high slant of her cheekbones balanced her squarish jawline and although her mouth was on the wide side, it did not look disproportionate. It more or less complemented the slight flare of her nostrils and the full curve of her lips was decidedly feminine. Her nose was straight, her neck was long enough to wear any jewellery well and her figure was fine, curvy enough in the right places and slim enough to carry off the clothes she liked.

There was nothing wrong with her looks, Amy fiercely asserted to herself. Jake Carter wouldn’t have hired her if he’d found her wanting in that department. His clients expected glamour. After all, they bought or chartered luxury yachts and jet planes. Wide Blue Yonder catered to their every whim, and charged them the earth for it. Jake insisted that his staff be as pleasing to the eye as everything else connected to his business. Image, he preached, was every bit as important as supplying what was demanded.

Though Amy had little doubt he was pleasing himself as much as anyone else. He made no secret of enjoying the visual pleasure of his female work force. He might call it class , but he was such a sexy beast, Amy was certain he revelled in exercising his right to choose a stimulating environment for himself.

She took several deep, calming breaths, opened her handbag, fished out her emergency make-up kit, and set to work, creating an unblemished facade to present to her boss. His lateness this morning was a stroke of luck. She couldn’t bank on any more luck running her way. Somehow she had to shut Steve and his pregnant wife-to-be out of her mind and concentrate on performing every task Jake handed her with her usual efficiency. It was the only way to avoid drawing unwelcome attention.

Satisfied she looked as good as she could in the circumstances, Amy returned her make-up kit to her handbag. Having washed and dried her hands, she smoothed the skirt of her scarlet linen shift over her hips, wishing linen didn’t crease quite so much. But it was in this season, despite its crushability, and the bright colour was a much-needed spirit-booster. At least, that was what she’d argued as she’d donned it this morning.

Pride had insisted the expensive dress should not be wasted. She’d bought it last week, planning to wear it to Steve’s office Christmas party. Now she saw it as a too belligerent statement that she would not mourn for him, a pathetic statement, given the heartsickness she was trying to hide. Still, it was too late to change her mind about it now and it might distract Jake Carter from picking up on her inner distress.

The tension of having to face him eased when she discovered his office empty and there was no sign of his having arrived for work. Puzzled as she was by his uncharacteristic lateness, Amy was nevertheless relieved to have the extra time to establish an air of busy occupation.

She settled at her desk and slipped the magazine she’d bought into the bottom drawer, out of sight and hopefully out of mind until she could read it in private. Concentration on her job was top priority now. She turned on her computer, connected to the Internet and brought up the E-mail that had come in over the weekend.

She was printing it out for Jake’s perusal when she heard the telltale whoosh of the elevator doors opening to the corridor which ran adjacent to their offices. Her nerves tightened. Her mind raced through defensive tactics.

Jake would probably drop into her office to explain his lateness, then use the connecting door to enter his own. After a perfunctory greeting she could plunge straight into discussing the mail with him. It contained a number of queries to be answered. The sooner they got down to business, the better.

Jake had a habit of throwing personal inquiries at her on Monday mornings and she desperately wanted to avoid them today. This past weekend didn’t bear thinking about let alone commenting upon. Not to Jake Carter.

If there was one thing more difficult to deflect than his sizzling sex appeal, it was his curiosity. Give him even a hint of an opening and he’d capitilise on it, probing for more information every which way. The man had a mind as sharp as a razor.