The Boss's Bedroom Agenda. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘Miss Walker?’
‘Yes?’
Her dazzling green eyes captured his attention and shot it into the stratosphere. They sparkled with intelligence, and even a hint of wariness couldn’t hide the glint of fun in their rich moss- green depths.
‘You’re late,’ he said, his gaze roaming over her heart-shaped face with its high cheekbones, pert nose and lush mouth a tad on the full side. Her features melded into a heart-stopping combination, and for a guy who appreciated beautiful things on a daily basis, and had since he could first walk and talk, he couldn’t tear his gaze away.
‘And you are?’
Surprised by her comeback, when she should have been on the back foot, and more than a little annoyed at his urge to laugh, he said, ‘Someone who could have your butt for waltzing in here late on your first day.’
She stuck out her hand, a wide grin curving her lips, and he found himself unwittingly returning her smile while he shook her hand.
‘Aidan Voss—the new boss around here.’
A boss who had no right noticing how her eyes twinkled when she smiled, or the cheeky lilt in her voice when she spoke, as if challenging him to do goodness knows what…
Praise for
Nicola Marsh
About Nicola’s Modern Heat™, TWO-WEEK MISTRESS: ‘Funny, witty and sensually enticing, TWO-WEEK MISTRESS by Nicola Marsh left me laughing at the antics of her characters while enjoying the sensuality of this novel.’ —www.cataromance.com
About BIG-SHOT BACHELOR, also from Modern Heat™: ‘Nicola Marsh writes a down-to-earth romance that will appeal to everyone…’ —www.cataromance.com
About INHERITED: BABY from Mills & Boon® Romance:
‘Awe-inspiring characters combined with an incredible
story, INHERITED: BABY by Nicola Marsh
tells the story of a woman’s inspirational spirit
to live her life her way, who is able to succeed
in getting the man of her dreams…’
—www.cataromance.com
Nicola Marsh has always had a passion for writing and reading. As a youngster, she devoured books when she should have been sleeping, and later kept a diary whose content could be an epic in itself! These days, when she’s not enjoying life with her husband and sons in her home city of Melbourne, she’s at her computer, creating the romances she loves, in her dream job. Visit Nicola’s website at www.nicolamarsh.com for the latest news of her books.
Nicola also writes for Mills & Boon® Romance.
Recent titles by the same author:
PURCHASED FOR PLEASURE
BIG-SHOT BACHELOR
TWO-WEEK MISTRESS
THE BOSS’S BEDROOM AGENDA
BY
NICOLA MARSH
For my blog readers, who cheered me on
with this one every step of the way.
Thanks, you’re the best!
CHAPTER ONE
BETHANY WALKER stuck her tongue out at her reflection as she twirled in front of the floor-length mirror.
‘I look gross.’
Her cousin Lana smirked. ‘I officially pronounce you a bona fide nerd.’
‘I do look like a nerd, don’t I?’
Lana, queen of the nerds and loving it, pushed her tortoiseshell glasses further up her nose as her serious gaze travelled from the tips of Beth’s low-heeled black pumps to the top of her blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun.
‘You look exactly how a proper tour guide should. You’ll fit in at the museum, no worries.’
Beth screwed up her nose as she smoothed the stiff cotton of her ultra-plain white blouse. ‘How could you wear such hideous clothes?’
Lana quirked an eyebrow and picked up Beth’s discarded apple-green midriff top and cut-off denim shorts from the floor. ‘I could ask you the same question.’
‘Touché, cuz. Touché.’
Beth grinned, eternally grateful for the close relationship she shared with her cousin.
From the first moment Lana had stood up to her, a mousy six-year-old who refused to back down when the boisterous, pushy pain in the butt she used to be had tried to wrestle a doll out of her hands, their friendship had been cemented.
‘Anything else you want me to cram before I do this? Any last minute pep talk? Instructions? Ways to bore the entire city of Melbourne senseless as they troop through the museum?’
The corners of Lana’s mouth twitched. ‘There is one more thing.’
‘What?’
She didn’t like the gleam in her cousin’s eye, the one that screamed she wasn’t done turning a swan into an ugly duckling just yet.
‘Here.’ Lana opened the top drawer of her dresser and reached into the back. ‘You need to wear these to complete the look.’
Her heart sank as she saw the ugliest pair of glasses she’d ever laid eyes on resting on her cousin’s outstretched palm.
Shaking her head, she held up her hands in protest. ‘Uh-uh. No way. Haven’t I done enough? You’ve dressed me, prepped me, turned me into another you. You can’t make me wear those!’
Lana cracked up. ‘I know, I’m just kidding around. Though I hear these are the latest fashion statement for all the cool tour guides this year.’
‘I bet.’
Beth rolled her eyes, grimacing at the ugly black-rimmed glasses, ignoring the faintest ring of ‘four eyes, four eyes’ in her ears.
If she’d hated being a brain as a kid she’d hated wearing glasses more and the memories had lasted way too long; long enough until she’d got a part-time job and earned enough money to buy contacts at the age of sixteen.
As for the old saying ‘guys didn’t make passes at girls who wore glasses’ it had been all too true in her case and she’d set about correcting that impression the second those contacts slipped in. She’d transformed from shy geek to flirty femme fatale and hadn’t looked back.
‘You sure? It would complete your new look.’
Lana stood back, folded her arms and admired her handiwork while Beth felt like the bride of Frankenstein in her ugly shoes and uglier clothes.
‘You know I’m not really going to wear this get-up, don’t you? I’m merely doing this to humour you?’
‘Yeah, I know. You’ll probably rock up to the museum in a micro mini and halter top, right?’
‘Now that you mention it…’
Lana groaned. ‘Tell me again why I helped set up the interview for you.’
Beth patted her arm as she shimmied out of her cousin’s clothes and slipped back into her own, rehanging the awful suit and slamming the wardrobe door shut before she had to look at it for another second. ‘Because you think I’m the bee’s knees. Because blood is thicker than water. And any other soppy cliché you can think of.’
Lana’s