Lord of Rain (The Dragon Demigods Book 5) Page 9

  He clears his throat, looking serious again. “No problem. Chat with Mark about a Group organogram as well. We have many companies under the Zeus umbrella.”

  “I’m aware. I have done some research on your organization.” I hope I don’t sound like a complete fool. I need to do more work on getting to know his businesses even better.

  “Research on my Group.” He makes a noise of agreement. “Good to know, Miss Shaw.” He turns a little more towards me. “What about me? Have you googled me?”

  I swallow. “Erm…I…”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  “I…only did it twice. The second time was to find out more about you from a business standpoint and to—”

  “What about the first time?” He quirks a brow.

  Oh, crud! “Um…” What the hell should I say? “I had dinner with my best friend, Candice, last night, and I told her about the interview and your offer. Technically, it was she who googled you the first time. Not me.”

  “She googled me from a business standpoint or a personal one?”

  “Pictures of you…mostly, I think.”

  “You think they were pictures, or you know they were?” That amused look is back.

  “No, I know they were pictures because she showed me.” I need to change the subject. It needs to happen right now. I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Lilian seems nice.”

  His forehead lines with a deep frown. “Who?”

  “Lilian, our cabin attendant. I have to say, she’s gorgeous, and she seems to like you.” I quickly shove some food in my mouth so that I can stop talking. That was an inappropriate thing to say. Bolt is my boss. He’s not a friend. He’s not Simon from work. He’s not my mom or any other employee who has worked with me in the past. He’s like no one I’ve ever met before, and his jaw has clenched tight. I think he’s mad. I shouldn’t have said that. I was overly familiar. It’s how I’m used to things being at the bakery, but it’s no excuse. I’m not at the bakery. Things have changed.

  “I have zero interest in Lilian,” he pushes out.

  That’s crazy. I don’t know a single guy who would turn down someone like her. Tall, slim, incredibly beautiful. “Of course,” I mumble. “Forget I said anything.” I stuff more food into my mouth. I realize it’s a piece of the crispy pork skin, and it crunches in my mouth as I chew. So much for being civilized.

  “To put it plainly, I never piss in my own backyard,” he adds, taking a sip of his whiskey.

  I chew a few more times and then swallow my mouthful of food. It’s like a lump going down my throat. “Excuse me?” I ask. I’m not sure what that means. “You don’t do what in your backyard?”

  “I never piss in my backyard,” he repeats. “Since I own this jet, the cabin attendant is on my payroll. I don’t fuck my employees, Miss Shaw.”

  “Nope, I wouldn’t either,” I quickly say, the words coming out before I can stop them. I’m shocked to my core. He owns this jet. Holy money buckets. I knew he was incredibly wealthy, but his own jet? Yikes.

  He laughs. “You used to work for your family, so it’s hardly the same thing.”

  “Simon isn’t family,” I blurt.

  “Who’s Simon?” His hands tighten over his cutlery, and his eyes narrow. If I didn’t know better, I would almost say he was jealous.

  “He’s a pastry chef at Buns. We worked together for a couple of years, but he’s married with a fifth child on the way.”

  “Five children…holy fuck!”

  “You swear a lot.” I just get myself out of one hole and then climb straight into the next. I just reprimanded my superior for bad language.

  He shrugs. “Gets rid of tension. You should try it. I’ve noticed you prefer cuss alternatives.”

  I smile. “I was taught that it’s rude and that ladies don’t swear. That’s why I use alternatives. I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if I cussed in front of clients.”

  He looks around and then locks eyes with me. “We’re not in front of clients. Forget alternatives! You should try the real thing sometime. Maybe when you’re in your hotel room tonight…alone. No one needs to know.”

  I shake my head. “No, I don’t think so. There are better things to do to relieve tension.”

  “Tell me more…” He takes a sip of his drink.

  “I’ll take a nice hot bath, which will get rid of all the tension just fine.”

  He snorts. “A hot bath… It’ll help, but…” He shakes his head, not looking convinced.

  “A hot bath with lovely soapy bubbles will do the job just fine.” I can see he still doesn’t agree. I shrug. “What? Maybe if I lie in the bath and say a cuss word or three?” I laugh at the thought.

  “That would be better, Miss Shaw.”

  “Better. What’s better than a hot bath to relieve tension?”

  “Orgasms,” he throws out, so matter-of-factly it’s scary.

  I try not to show my shock and horror at what he just said. Act cool, Ashley! I need to ignore the fact that my clit did this happy dance when he said the word. I guess Bolt is the kind of guy who is used to saying whatever he wants. He certainly doesn’t lack any confidence.

  Orgasms.

  Not one but multiple. Cool as a cucumber. “I guess sex will help with…with stress relief.” I’m thrilled at how relaxed and carefree I sound, since I’m not. This is not a conversation to have with your boss. Especially if he’s sex on legs. I reach down and find my bag, pulling out the bottle of water Trevor gave me earlier. I’m feeling hot all of a sudden.

  “I didn’t say sex, Miss Shaw. I’m sorry to say that the one doesn’t always lead to the other. Orgasms mixed with a choice cuss word or two will ease any kind of tension every single time.”

  I nod frantically. I can definitely relate. Sex doesn’t always lead to orgasms. Don’t I know it. I always struggled with ‘getting there’ in the past. Not just with Sean, but with other guys I’ve dated too. In fact, I’ve never had an orgasm from straight-up sex. I’ve always needed a lot of help. Too much effort for most guys. Also, they seem to think they’re amazing in bed, even if they’re not. That rarely leads to anything exciting, at least for the woman. “There are people who can help you with that, you know,” I mutter. I’ve done my research.

  He frowns. “What kind of people?”

  “Sex therapists, I think they’re called.” I would be willing to help him find one. Hey, maybe I’ll make an appointment for myself too. Sean told me I’m like a dead fish in bed. I have to say, I’m shocked at Bolt’s admission. He isn’t good in bed? I would have bet my right arm that he would be amazing. In a way, I find it kind of sweet that he would admit it to me. I realize that he’s looking at me like I just grew pink horns. “You just said that sex doesn’t always lead to orgasms. I’m going to assume you’re talking from experience. That’s perfectly normal. You could also buy a book on…everything to do with…well, with sex. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I read an article in a magazine the other day and,” I lift my eyes in thought, “I think it said only 30 to 40% of women actually achieve climax during intercourse. It’s as low as 20 to 30% without assistance and as high as…I’m pretty sure it was 50% with assistance.”

  “Assistance.” He nods, looking interested. “As much as 50%… Interesting.” He rubs his jaw. “Thanks for the tips and the information. Very informative. I appreciate it.”

  “Let me know if you want me to schedule something for you.” The poor guy. He obviously can’t talk about this kind of thing with other people. He can only talk to me because of our NDA. He’s worried word might get out otherwise. That the press would hear about it. I feel so sorry for him.

  “Oh, you’d be willing to help me? Nice to know.” He’s looking at me funny again, Maybe I went too far. I probably did. I’d better end this conversation before I say something stupid.

  “No problem.” I take a sip of my water. “I will have your electronic calendar shortly, I’ll find a gap in your schedule. I’ll research what bo
oks might work for you. That’s if you want me to. I know you don’t have time.”

  His eyes are glinting, and his mouth twitches. Bolt takes a sip of his drink. “Thank you.” He clears his throat. Then he eats the last bite on his plate. He puts his knife and fork down. I look down at mine and realize I ate everything. I follow suit, happy when Lilian takes the tray so that I can get back to work.

  The rest of the flight goes by quickly. I’m a little nervous about the landing, but it’s exhilarating as well. I want to pinch myself. I can’t believe I’m here.

  Once the jet eases into its bay, I stand and start to get my bag from the overhead. “I’ll do it,” Bolt says. He frowns as he pulls my bag out, putting it down in front of me. “You have everything you need for our trip in here?” he asks as he pulls out the handle. “This tiny thing?”

  “I do, indeed. I know how to pack light.”

  “Including something to wear to dinner?”

  “Yes.” I nod. “I have a dress.”

  He narrows his eyes. “We’re going to The Black Swan.”

  “I love swans,” I say, like an absolute idiot, since I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  Bolt throws me a half-smile, which is gorgeous. Oh, my word! I think women must throw themselves at him. I admitted my attraction to him, but I won’t be one of them. I won’t do any throwing of myself in his direction. I refuse! His eyes keep their sparkle, even when the smile wilts. “The Black Swan is a restaurant here in Los Angeles.”

  “Oh, my god, you’re going to The Black Swan,” Lilian gushes from behind me. “You got in!” she adds, eyes wide. “Of course, you did.” She pulls herself together. “You’re…you’re you.”

  Bolt’s whole disposition changes. He visibly bristles. “We’d better get going, Miss Shaw. We have work to do.”

  I nod.

  “After you.” I can’t help but notice how he slings a bag across his back. His wheelie is double the size of mine. Shoot! Did I grossly under pack? Probably. I desperately need to purchase some new work attire. I can’t think about that now.

  There’s a fancy pants car waiting at the bottom of the aircraft stairs. A man rushes to Bolt and grabs his carry-on bag. He also takes my wheelie. I get into the vehicle.

  After packing our bags into the trunk, the driver joins us. Bolt spends the entire journey on his phone, talking to someone about stocks, graphs, and figures. He ends the call when we arrive at a hotel. The building has my jaw dropping.

  It’s a skyscraper. I see a huge revolving door, a doorman, and a bellhop. I think that’s the right term. He runs to our car and puts our bags onto a large trolley.

  I’m staying here?

  Me?

  Here?

  I somehow expected to be staying at a different hotel to Bolt. Something less…fancy. We are met by a man in a suit as soon as we arrive inside. He flutters around Bolt, welcoming him back. I stop walking when I see the inside of the place. It’s beautiful. From the huge bouquet of flowers at the door to the marble and gleaming stainless-steel finishes. The furniture is modern yet inviting.

  “This is Roger,” Bolt says to me. “He’s our Liaison Officer.”

  “Lovely to meet you, Miss Shaw,” Roger says. He puts out his hand, and I shake it.

  “Roger will help you with those copies and anything else you may need. We’re already checked in.” Bolt looks over at the Liaison Officer, who nods. “Roger has your keycard.”

  “I do indeed,” Roger says. “No problem about the copies. I’m here for you.” He turns back to Bolt. “Anything else you need, sir?”

  “Is my suite ready?” Bolt narrows his eyes.

  “Fully stocked with your preferred beverages. No flowers, 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheets, and a bowl of pink jellybeans.”

  “Sounds perfect,” Bolt says.

  “Pink jellybeans?” I can’t help but ask.

  “He’s joking,” Bolt says. “Funny, Roger.” Deadpan.

  “I thought you’d like that.” Roger grins.

  “That is pretty funny,” I say. “Pink jellybeans and 1000,” I snort softly, “Egyptian thread count.” I chuckle.

  “The rest is as per my request,” Bolt says, looking very serious. “Only the jellybeans were a joke.”

  Oops! “Oh…” I clear my throat. “Of course. I’m sure 1000 thread count Egyptian cotton is amazing to sleep in.”

  “I gave you the same, Miss Shaw,” Roger tells me.

  “Thank you.” I’m not sure what else to say. “I can’t wait to slip between the sheets to give them a test drive.” What a stupid thing to say!

  I glance at Bolt, and he has that look again. I keep putting my foot in it.

  “You have to let us know what your specific preferences are next time and we’ll have everything ready for you,” Roger says, drawing my attention back to him.

  “Nothing specific, except that I like flowers,” I mumble.

  Roger types something into his phone. “Done,” he says with a smile.

  “I’ll see you here in reception at seven,” Bolt says to me.” Did you get my email about our itinerary?”

  Email? Itinerary? What?

  “Check your emails, Miss Shaw. Next time, you will need to put the itinerary together for our trip.”

  “I can do that.” Not! I’m in over my head.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be settled into your role by then and fine…absolutely fine,” he assures me.

  I’m not sure I agree but I nod anyway. He starts to walk towards the elevator. “Enjoy your bubble bath.” He looks back over his shoulder at me. I’m sure I imagine it, but I think he winks. Can’t be, though.

  “This way, Miss Shaw,” Roger says. “I’m so glad he’s in a good mood today,” I think he says. Is he talking about Bolt? My mouth is still gaping at the comment my boss just made. Did he wink at me? “Miss Shaw?” Roger says, because I can’t seem to take my eyes off the elevator.

  “Sorry,” I say. “Right behind you.” I follow Roger. I decide that it wasn’t flirtatious. It’s me. I’m reading into things. Bolt wasn’t interested in Lilian, and she was incredibly beautiful. He also specifically mentioned he doesn’t ‘date’ women he works with. Me included! I need to stop letting my mind run away with me. Bolt is gorgeous, and I’m seriously attracted to him. It’s a problem. He’s being playful and I’m seeing more, but only because I want to see more. I really need to pull myself together and stop my nonsense. I’m sure, given time, I’ll get over this thing I have for my boss. I’ll look back in a couple of weeks – possibly months – and laugh at myself. I look forward to that day.

  12

  Bolt

  “Stay where you are,” I instruct Miss Shaw as we pull up to the restaurant. The driver opens my door, and I get out.

  I walk around to her side of the vehicle and open the door for her, offering a hand to help her out. “Fuck!” I snarl under my breath as I see them approach us.

  “What’s wrong?” Miss Shaw asks as she gets out of the vehicle.

  I let go of her hand. “Paparazzi,” I tell her. “Don’t say a word.”

  She nods, her eyes wide. They’re there in a flash…literally…flashes erupt around us. Thankfully there are only three or four of the bastards. I put a hand to Miss Shaw’s back for a second. There are more flashes. Of course there are. I’m pretty sure, come morning, these pictures will be in the papers or one of those gossip rags – the ones on the shelves at checkout counter. They’ll call Miss Shaw my ‘flavor of the day’ or something idiotic like that. Thank god the walk to the entrance is quick.

  The hostess from The Black Swan rushes towards me as we step inside the open double doors. We’re still in the public eye. Fuck! Not this again. “Bolt!” she calls like I’m her long-lost lover. “Welcome back to The Black Swan.” Thank fuck she’s not underage. That’s a plus in my book. It doesn’t stop her from gripping my biceps and air-kissing my cheeks. I can hear the clicks behind us as the paparazzi have a field day. Miss Shaw stands q
uietly to the side of us. “We have your table ready,” the hostess says as she releases me. “A big welcome to your guest,” she says to Miss Shaw. “Come this way.” She walks ahead of us.

  “I’m going to assume you read the NDA?” I say under my breath to Miss Shaw.

  “No…” She shakes her head. “I mean, I glanced through it.” She looks concerned. “Should I have read every word? I thought it was standard.”

  I stop walking. “Yes, you should absolutely have read every word. It doesn’t matter that it’s standard. It’s legal and binding. You should always read through any agreement before you sign it. You should question anything untoward or anything you don’t understand. Never just sign.”

  “I will keep that in mind. Why are you bringing up the NDA? Is there something I did wrong just then? I didn’t say anything, I kept my cool and—”

  She thinks she fucked up “That’s not it,” I say. “Those pictures…of us will be in some or other publication tomorrow. When you signed that NDA you agreed not to talk about any aspect of my life, but you also accepted that you might become the object of a scandal. We will be working closely together. We’ll be seen together and photographed together. After tonight, they’re going to say we’re dating, or that you’re my latest flame…something to that effect. They’ll probably say that we’re sleeping together…”

  I watch as she goes as white as a ghost. Her throat works.

  “It isn’t—” I start to say, when our hostess stops walking and turns to us.

  “Here we are,” she says, pointing at a table. “You’re the first ones to arrive. This area is in a quieter section, as requested.” She smiles at me.

  Then she pulls out Miss Shaw’s chair. “Thanks,” my PA murmurs. She’s looking around us. “Wow! It’s all so beautiful.” She smooths a hand down her dress. It’s plain black. She’s wearing a pair of pearl earrings and the same black heels she wore earlier.