Six Of The Best Of Desire 2016. Maisey YatesЧитать онлайн книгу.
I want to stay at home with him, but I love Silver Reflections. It’s hard to imagine not coming here every day.”
“I’ll do my best to keep things running smoothly while you’re gone.”
“No doubts on that score. You’re a smart cookie, Libby. I feel completely confident about leaving things in your hands.”
“I hope you’ll bring the baby to see us when the weather is nice.”
“You can count on it.” She opened the gift slowly, taking care not to rip the paper. “Oh, Libby, this is beautiful. But it must have been way too expensive.”
Libby grimaced. She had been very honest with Charlise about her current financial situation. “It’s an antique of sorts. A family friend gave it to my parents when I was born, engraved with the initial L. When I heard you say were going to name the baby Lander, after your father, I knew I wanted you to have it.”
“But you’ve kept it all this time. Despite everything that’s happened. It must have special meaning.”
When Libby looked at the silver baby cup and bowl and spoon, her heart squeezed. “It does. It did. I think I held on to the set as a reminder of happier times. But the truth is, I don’t need it anymore. I’m looking toward the future. It will make me feel good to know your little boy is using it.”
Charlise hugged Libby tightly. “I’ll treasure it.”
Libby glanced at her watch. “I need to let you get out of here, but may I ask you one more thing before you go?”
“Of course.”
“How did you get this job working with Patrick?”
“My husband and Patrick’s brother Aidan are good friends. When Patrick put out the word that he was starting Silver Reflections, Aidan hooked us up.”
“And the high-adventure stuff?”
Charlise shrugged. “I’ve always been a tomboy. Climbing trees. Racing go-karts. Broke both arms and legs before I made it to college. At different times, thank goodness.”
“Good grief.” Libby thought about her own cocoon-like adolescence. “Do you really think I can handle the team building and physical challenges in the outdoors?”
The other woman paused, her hand hovering over a potted begonia. “Let me put it this way...” She picked up the plant and put it in a box. “I think you’ll be fine as long as you believe in yourself.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve heard you talk about Patrick. He intimidates you.”
“Well, I—” Libby stopped short, unable to come up with a believable lie. “Yes.”
“Don’t let him. He may come across as tough and intense at times, but underneath it all, he’s a pussycat.”
A broad-shouldered masculine frame filled the doorway. “I think I’ve just been insulted.”
Copyright © 2016 by Janice Maynard
Andrea Laurence
She’d imagined standing like this with him so many times, and every one of those times, he’d kissed her.
Before she knew what was happening, Carson brought her fantasy to reality by dipping his head and pressing his lips to hers. The champagne was just strong enough to mute the voices in her head that told her this was a bad idea. Instead, she gave in to his kiss, pulling him closer.
He tasted like champagne and spearmint; his touch gentle, yet firm. She could’ve stayed just like this forever, but eventually, Carson pulled away.
His green eyes reflected sudden panic. Her emotions came crashing back down to the ground with the reality she saw there. She had just kissed her boss. Her boss!
“Georgia, I…” he started, his voice trailing off. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
With a quick shake of her head, she dismissed his words and took a step back from him. “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Excitement and champagne will make people do stupid things every time.”
The problem was that it didn’t feel stupid.
* * *
Saying Yes to the Boss is part of the Dynasties: The Newports series: Passion and chaos consume a Chicago real estate empire
ANDREA LAURENCE is an award-winning author of contemporary romances filled with seduction and sass. She has been a lover of reading and writing stories since she was young and is thrilled to share her special blend of sensuality and dry, sarcastic humor with readers. A dedicated West Coast girl transplanted into the Deep South, she’s working on her own happily-ever-after with her boyfriend and their collection of animals.
To My Fellow Newport Authors—Kat, Sarah, Jules, Michelle and Charlene Thanks for being so much fun to work with on this series.
And to our editor, Charles—You’re awesome, as always. I’m still waiting to see that infamous fanny pack.
“I found it.”
Georgia Adams eyed Carson Newport from her position in his office doorway. He looked up from the paperwork on his desk, arched one golden eyebrow in curiosity and leaned back in his chair. “You found what?”
Georgia stifled a frown of disappointment. She’d imagined this moment differently. She was carrying a chilled bottle of champagne in her purse to celebrate her discovery. Not once in her imagination had he stared at her blankly.
How could he not know that she had found it? The Holy Grail of real estate. The very thing they’d been searching for, for months. “I found the spot where the Newport Corporation is going to be building the Cynthia Newport Memorial Hospital for Children.”
That got his attention. Carson straightened up in his leather executive chair and pinned her with his gaze. “Are you serious?”
Georgia grinned. This was more like it. “As a heart attack.”
“Come in.” He waved her into his office. “Tell me all about it.”
She shook her head and crooked her finger to beckon him. “I think I need to show you. Come on.”
Carson didn’t so much as look at his calendar for conflicts before he leaped from his chair. Finding the land for their next real estate development project had been that hard and that important. There wasn’t a lot of space in Chicago to do what they wanted. At least, not at a price that made any kind of financial sense.
He moved swiftly around his massive mahogany desk, buttoning the black suit coat he was wearing as he joined her in the doorway. “Lead on, Miss Adams.”
Georgia spun on her heel and headed for the elevators. “We’re taking your car,” she reminded him as she hit the down button.
He leaned his palm against the wall and looked down at her. “You know, Georgia, you’re the director of public relations at a Fortune 500 company. I think I pay you enough to get a car. I pay you enough to get a really nice car. There’s even a reserved spot in the garage for you that sits open every day.”
Georgia just shrugged. She didn’t want the responsibility of a car. In truth, she didn’t need one. Her apartment was a block away from the “L.” Chicago’s elevated