Seducing the Billionaire’s Secretary
Copyright © 2015 by Marquita Valentine
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted downloaded, distributed, stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, without express permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or any events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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Table of Contents
Copyright Page
Seducing the Billionaire's Secretary
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
Books by Marquita Valentine
Author Bio
Seducing the Billionaire’s Secretary
Ella Simpson loves her job at Montgomery Industry. She also loves her boss. Well, make that loved, because the man of her dreams—and one-sided email conversations—is getting married. Worse, she’s been asked to serve as a bridesmaid at his destination wedding. Even more dreadful than that... the best man is Blake York, her boss’s partner and the man who read every single one of her humiliating emails and has been tormenting her ever since.
For three years, British billionaire Blake York has been secretly longing for his partner’s sassy little personal assistant. She’s beautiful, witty, and has a bubbly smile for everyone... except him. Ever since he discovered her little secret, she’s given him the cold shoulder.
But now that her secret crush is getting married, Blake seizes the opportunity to make her his... and he’s not above a bit of old-fashioned blackmail to do it.
Chapter One
Blake York was head over heels in love with his secretary. Perhaps calling Ella Simpson his secretary was stretching it a bit, since she technically worked for another man and only helped Blake out whenever his personal assistant was out of the office.
But a bloke could dream.
He could fantasize about her bringing him tea every morning and finding excuses to stay to chat him up. Or stumble over too high heels, allowing him to play the hero by catching her moments before her perfect knees hit the floor.
Perhaps she’d forget how to login or run reports, and require him to teach her the ropes once more. Their bodies nearly touching, their heads inched close together. The light floral scent of her perfume would invade his every pore until he was a blithering idiot of a man.
Ah, yes, the fantasies he had at work were most definitely tame compared to the ones he had at night. The ones where he slowly peeled away her clothes and spent hours exploring her delectable body.
However, his daytime dreams would never come true, much less his nighttime fantasies. Ella was too capable, too independent, and too infatuated with his business partner to notice him.
He frowned just as she happened to glance his way, but it was too late to change his expression. Her friendly smile slid away, confusion replacing it as she turned her attention back to taking notes.
“Blake,” Andrew said.
“Here.”
His partner narrowed his eyes. That was all he needed to cap off his morning. Andrew Montgomery didn’t trust him as it was, and not paying attention due to daydreaming about a lower-level employee would not do Blake any favors.
William, Andrew’s father, had hired Blake six months ago, but that still hadn’t been enough time to thaw the son out. Most likely, Andrew viewed Blake as competition for his father’s attention, or for his share of a multi-billion-dollar company.
Blake didn’t need the money, or the elder Montgomery’s approval, beyond a job well done. He’d made his first billion a couple of years ago, invested the majority of it, and spent his time traveling the world until word got around that Montgomery Industry was in need of a chief technology officer. It wasn’t a conventional position in the least, and it was one most companies were years away from creating.
That was one of the things he liked most about William and MI in general. He’d never met a more forward-thinking chap... until he worked with Andrew.
“Are the reports ready for the Romanov negotiations?”
“Of course,” he smoothly replied.
“Email them to me.”
“They’re already in your inbox, sir,” Ella cut in. “Mr. York sent them last week.”
Shooting Ella a grateful but surprised look at her defense of him, he added, “As are the last seven emails from T & G Securities.”
T & G Securities was MI’s biggest competition, and they were keen on wooing Blake away to work for them. With every polite refusal, the head of their company had upped his offer until he finally began to ask Blake to share company benefits in return for large sums of money.
He rather hated underhanded desperation.
His phone buzzed, and he grimaced. Another text from T & G Securities popped up on the screen, asking for MI’s latest project along with veiled hints as to what he would receive if he were to help them. The amount was ten times what he had contracted with MI, money that could easily be hidden.
He’d be a fool to turn them down.
“And the latest offer.” But at least he’d be an honest fool with a clear conscience. He slid the phone to Andrew.
Andrew’s eyes narrowed before he exhaled, leaning back in his chair with a pained expression. “I don’t like to be wrong, but York... I was wrong about you.” A genuine smile broke out on his face. “How about we celebrate your latest defeat of Romanov’s attack dogs over drinks at King’s?”
Confusion filled Blake. “I’ve not gone against them yet.”
“Call it a hunch, and I’m never wrong about those,” Andrew smugly replied.
“And your hunch about me?” Blake asked lightly.
“That wasn’t a hunch; it was an opinion.”
“Fair enough. I look forward to drinks.” Blake stood, adjusting the cuff links at the end of his sleeves. “If you’ll excuse me, I have virus reports to go over. Entertaining reads, that.”
“Drinks at six,” Andrew reminded him.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” With a nod to Ella, he walked out of Andrew’s office, heading down the hallway to his own.
“Mr. York!”
Blake paused, turning slightly, a smile kicking up the corners of his mouth. His heart sped up.
Ella strode toward him, her statuesque figure a sight to behold in the form-fitting blue dress. Her auburn hair was caught up in a low bun, and her generous mouth was smiling at him. Eyes the color of hot chocolate made him want to melt. The woman was absolute perfection.
She stopped inches in front of him, her heels making her nearly the same height as he was. He had to stop himself from touching her—from finding out if her pale skin was as soft as it looked.
“Yes?” His voice sounded husky, and he cleared his throat.
She held out her hand. Did she want him to take it? Would she lead him to the nearest empty office and—
“Your phone. You left it behind.”
“Quite so.” He tugged at the collar of his shirt and then took it from her, holding it up like a prize. Fitting since he was a prize fool. “Thank you so much, Ms. Simpson.”
She beamed at him. “Call me Ella.”
“As long as you agree to call me Blake. This Mr. York nonsense makes me feel rather old.” And like his father—a wastrel of man who gambled away what was left of the family fortune by the time Blake was seventeen.