Compromising the Billionaire by Ivy Layne
It’s hard to believe the sweet blond is a stone-cold criminal.
Those lavender eyes. Her lush mouth.
I won’t be taken in by a sweet pair of tits and long legs.
She’s after my company. She’s after me.
You know what they say about enemies.
I need her close, so I can figure out exactly what she’s up to.
It’s all business, I swear.
The more I’m with her, the harder she is to resist.
She’s an ice sculpture of a woman: perfect and untouchable.
But I see the spark in her eyes, the fire beneath the surface.
I need her to ignite. Just for me.
What do I do when I discover the truth? She’s everything I suspected her of and worse.
But the real shock?
She’s not the villain in this story.
Somehow, I have to find a way to make it right before I lose the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
Crap, crap, crap.
I strode out of Aiden Winters’s office, ignoring the curious glances of his executive assistants, and pressed the button for the elevator with a steady hand. No one watching would suspect that I was a breath away from completely freaking out. I stepped into the empty elevator and held the half smile on my lips until the door slid shut.
Then I collapsed into the corner, pressing my hot cheek to the cool metal wall, and tried not to hyperventilate.
He knew. There wasn’t a question in my mind. Aiden Winters knew I was there under false pretenses. He knew I was up to something. He probably knew my name wasn’t Violet Hartwell.
And he hadn’t fired me. Instead, he’d moved me to a position where he could keep an eye on me.
As the elevator slid down, floor by floor, I wracked my brain for any reason Aiden might have for giving me such a coveted job. None of them were good.
He wanted to catch me in the act.
He wanted to figure out why I was there.
The elevator doors slid open and I fixed my customary, cool half smile on my face. Just because I was on the edge of a panic attack didn’t mean anyone else had to know. I made it down the hall and around the corner to my tiny office without anyone stopping me. I usually worked with my door open, but today I closed it firmly before dropping into my desk chair.
The only sensible choice was to quit.
I should pack up my desk, go home, and never come back. My plan had been a little crazy to begin with. This was so totally unlike me, I could hardly believe what I’d done when I’d applied for the job. And when Carlisle had hired me, I’d accepted before I could think better of it.
I’d just been so angry. Aiden Winters and Winters Incorporated had stolen Chase’s company. And they were going to give it back. I just had to figure out how to force Aiden’s hand. Somewhere around here, there had to be something, some evidence of his misdeeds, proof of the kind of man he really was.
And when I had it, I’d use that proof to force Aiden to give Chase his company back.
I squeezed my eyes shut tight and rolled my head back. When I opened them, I was staring at the ceiling, squinting a little at the fluorescent light above and wondering how the hell I ever thought my plan was going to work. Had I imagined Aiden Winters would leave his diary laying out on his desk, open to a page about other companies he’d stolen or a confession that he’d cheated on his taxes?
No, I wasn’t that naïve. But I’d figured that once I got into his email I’d find something. No one was completely innocent. People were rarely what they seemed to be. If I’d had any illusions about the world of business, I’d lost them after my first job. Still, I hadn’t thought it would be this hard to dig up a little dirt on Aiden Winters.
I was running out of time. Chase would be home from his consulting job in a matter of weeks, and if he found out what I was up to…I wasn’t going to think about that.
If I were smart, I’d cut my losses and get the heck out of here. I’d been holding my own in Carlisle’s department, my inadequate skills in project management and data mining bolstered by the time I’d spent working for Chase before Winters, Inc. had cheated him out of his company.
This was not my dream job. I was a bookkeeper, and I liked it. I missed my smooth, clean columns of numbers, familiar software. I missed sorting receipts and tracking down errant payments and bills. I didn’t want to be a project manager, and I absolutely didn’t want to be Aiden Winters’s executive assistant.
I should quit. Go home and start putting out résumés for a real job. One I was qualified for. A job that didn’t have the potential to land me in jail if I got caught breaking into confidential files or hacking email.
About Ivy Layne
Ivy Layne has had her nose stuck in a book since she learned to decipher the English language. Sometime in her early teens, she stumbled across her first Romance, and the die was cast. Though she pretended to pay attention to her creative writing professors, she dreamed of writing steamy romance instead of literary fiction. These days, she’s neck deep in alpha heroes and the smart, sexy women who love them.
Married to her very own alpha hero (who rubs her back after a long day of typing, but also leaves his socks on the floor). Ivy lives in the mountains of North Carolina where she and her other half are having a blast raising two energetic little boys. Aside from her family, Ivy’s greatest loves are coffee and chocolate, preferably together.