A little sigh escaped her. She would miss him terribly, which was foolish. Her childish crush on her boss could never go farther than her mind, of course. If anyone knew the depth of her feelings for Alexander Worth, she would be the laughing stock of the entire building.
As if he paid any attention to her. He didn’t know she existed beyond keeping him on task and answering his phone calls.
So she silently suffered. From the moment she’d first locked eyes on him, her entire body had reacted. Physically he was perfection. As she’d continued to work for him, she’d discovered he was driven, intelligent and excellent at what he did. Nothing stopped him from getting what he wanted.
Too bad he didn’t want her.
This was her ideal job. Since her early teens she’d loved fashion. Poring over fashion magazines, she’d dreamed of becoming a designer. But after doodling on the sketchpad she’d saved up for all those years ago, she’d realized her talent didn’t lie in design.
So she’d taken some fashion retail and design courses in college but eventually had dropped out before receiving her degree due to lack of funds. Had found a job at one retail store in Times Square, then another, then another, until eventually she’d ended up applying for an assistant-manager position at a Worth Luxury store.
She got the job. Within two years she found herself working as Alexander Worth’s personal assistant.
Tessa still couldn’t quite believe it.
The office door swung open and out strode Hunter Worth, handsome as ever, a giant smile curving his lips. “Did my assistant e-mail you the list for the tour, Tessa?”
“She did, Mister Worth, thank you. I’ve already started making the necessary arrangements.” She offered him a brief smile. All three of the Worth brothers were handsome, though the other two couldn’t hold a candle to Alex—at least in her eyes.
“Perfect, considering I got Alex to agree to go only a few minutes ago.” Hunter winked at her and with a chuckle strode toward the elevator. “Have a nice weekend,” he called over his shoulder.
Tessa swallowed hard. Hunter made her nervous. He was almost too smooth, too flirtatious, and she often wondered if he had ulterior motives.
And then there was Rhett Worth, who didn’t have a serious bone in his body. He rarely made an appearance at Worth, didn’t even bother pretending he actually worked for his family’s business.
But Alex…he was so compelling, so powerful. He entered a room and everyone immediately knew he was in command. He ran the company with a ruthless yet fair hand, was so incredibly serious and smart and handsome…
“Tessa?”
She blinked and turned in her chair to find Alex standing in front of her desk, a frown marring his face, his dark brows lowered in seeming concern. His stormy blue-gray eyes contemplated her, watched her with an intensity she found unnerving, and she swallowed hard. “Yes, sir?”
His eyes flickered with thinly veiled annoyance. He hated that she called him
sir
, had asked her not to do so, but she always forgot. Since when was it a sin to have good manners? He was, after all, her boss. “You’re aware of my having to take Hunter’s place and attend to the relaunch tour, correct?”
She nodded. “I’m making the necessary changes and arrangements for your travel now. Everything should be in place before the day is through.”
“Perfect.” He didn’t look pleased. He suffered through most public appearances for Worth, so she assumed this tour was the last thing he wanted to do. “I’d like you to prepare an itinerary as soon as you can. I need to know where I’ll be at all times for the duration of the trip.”
“Yes, sir.” She returned her attention to her computer monitor, painfully aware that Alex stood there, silently watching. A tingle started at the top of her spine, slowly working its way down the length of her back, and she barely contained the shiver that wanted to move through her. She could feel his gaze upon her much like a physical caress and she held her breath. Wished she knew what he was thinking.
Did he approve of what he saw? Did she displease him in any way? She worked so hard, harder than she ever had before for fear she would disappoint him.
The very last thing she wanted to do.
“Tessa?” His voice had lowered, roughly sexy, murmuring along her nerve endings.
If he only knew the effect he had on her…
“Yes?” She looked up at him, marveling yet again at his height, the very breadth of him. His shoulders were impossibly broad, emphasized by the exquisite cut of his dark suit jacket. He wore a Worth tie made of the finest silk, a lovely shade of blue that reminded her of the ocean.
The blue almost matched the turbulent color of his eyes. His face was clean-shaven, not a hair out of place. He was so completely, utterly perfect she sometimes wondered if he was real.
“I have a request.” He paused, letting the words hang in the air, and anticipation ran through her, sharp and potent.
“Yes?” she urged when he still hadn’t said anything.
Propping his hands on the edge of her desk, he bent down, setting his face just above hers. She pressed her feet into the ground, pushing her chair back the slightest bit, but that only made him loom in closer. “I want you—”
A tremble moved through her and she released a shuddering breath. Those three words filled her with edgy suspense. So many possibilities to consider…
“—to stop calling me
sir
.”
The road to heartbreak is paved with honorable intentions…
Fever Cure
© 2011 Phillipa Ashley
After a year dealing with her mum’s health scare and the end of a bad relationship, Keira Grayson was looking forward to kicking up her heels at her best friend’s wedding. Until she kicks off her (spare) knickers in front of the trifecta of perfection. Tom Carew. Son of an earl, honorable doctor and possibly the hottest man on the planet.
One look at Keira’s delightful embarrassment, and Tom’s hormone meter spins off the charts. Trouble is, his bags are already packed to return to the jungles of Papua New Guinea. He has patients waiting—and amends to make for a terrible choice that left devastation in its wake.
They both reason that indulging in a one-time dinner date won’t hurt…until their inhibitions melt away in the heat of their lethal sexual chemistry. Leaving Keira wondering if a sizzling fling is just what the doctor ordered, or another prescription for relationship disaster. And Tom fighting a battle against inner demons that could shatter both their hearts.
Warning: This book contains a hot aristocratic doctor, sparky heroine, new uses for a chaise longue, a steamy shower scene and a knicker-ripping encounter in a four-poster bed.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Fever Cure:
Now why wasn’t there a convenient chasm around when you wanted one? A nice big pit you could disappear into completely.
Please don’t tell them about the pants
, she pleaded silently.
“We bumped into each other before the ceremony.”
Her insides began to liquefy.
“Keira mislaid something from her bag, and I picked it up.”
Was that strangled sound really coming from her?
“Absolutely.” He looked directly into her eyes as she held her breath. “I found her mobile from the church steps.”
The tension ebbed away. Her shoulders slumped. It was all she could do to keep from letting out a cry of relief.
Carrie beamed. “Wasn’t that nice of Tom?”
“Very…noble,” Keira muttered through gritted teeth, still feeling the warm cradling of his palm around her fingers.
“Tom’s a GP at the health centre,” offered Carrie.
Keira shot him a hard stare. “Really?”
Now just what was an aristocrat doing working in the local NHS clinic? It just didn’t figure. But then, Tom Carew was full of surprises.
“So you’re a teacher?” he asked.
She just couldn’t resist it. Sorry, but it had to be done. He’d enjoyed himself at her expense once too often today.
She raised her glass to him.
“Well observed.”
He gave a mock bow in return. “A teacher
and
a comedian. It must be my lucky day.”
Carrie gathered up her train. “We must go. My new in-laws await. Don’t forget to ask Tom to tell you about his work in Papua. It’s fascinating.”
Carrie offered her cheek to be kissed, and Tom duly obliged, brushing her face with his lips and giving a bone-melting smile. It brought brightness to his eyes, a softening of his expression that made him look… The only way of describing it was “at home”. Yes, that was it.
Comfortable
, rather than edgy and uptight.
“Fancy a pint, mate?” asked Matt.
“No, he doesn’t,” said Carrie firmly, laying a hand on her new husband’s arm.
“You go ahead,” said Tom. “I’ll join you in a moment.”
Keira waved her hand as Carrie dragged Matt off, cringing inside. Why did brides try to fix you up? As if they could somehow inject you with a dose of their happiness and good fortune. Well, fairy tales didn’t happen, especially not to the likes of her, and definitely not with minor aristocracy.
She couldn’t help glancing down at her bare toes. What must Tom think of her? No shoes, grubby feet, and he already knew—or thought he knew—what kind of underwear she wore. Well, she thought, two could play at that game, and she’d have bet fifty quid he’d got silk boxers on. They’d be black, of course, and clinging tightly to the contours of his firm backside. Suddenly, the urge to press her legs together was overwhelming. Fire shot through her as the image blew her brain. Tom, slipping his shorts over his thighs, the silk slithering over the powerful muscles she knew lay underneath.
“Can I get you some champagne?” he asked.
“Um. Oh yes. Yes, please.” So he was staying, then. He was probably just being polite.
He called to a passing waiter, completely oblivious that he’d turned her mind to mush. “Could we have some champagne, please?”
The waiter held out a silver tray. “Of course, sir.”
He was offering her a crystal flute, holding it by the stem to keep the wine chilled.
“So, you’re working as a GP at the health centre?” she asked, taking the glass carefully from his scarred hands. A cold bead of condensation slid down the stem and onto her fingertips.
“That’s right,” said Tom, helping himself to an orange juice.
Keira took a gulp of her wine. “Are you staying long in the city?”
“Not if I can possibly help it.”
She was momentarily floored. She hadn’t expected him to be rude; hadn’t seemed his style. She sipped her drink delicately and tried to keep her voice even, giving him another chance. “Is it that bad being back in London?”
“No, it isn’t. Look, I’m sorry. I was rather rude just then.”
“Yes, you were. In fact, if you were in my class, I’d really have to send you to the naughty corner,” said Keira in between unwisely large gulps of wine.
Tom raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure the naughty corner is politically incorrect these days,” he said.
Keira downed another large mouthful. “It is, but I think I could reinstate it, especially for you.”
He’d done it again. Made her breasts prickle against the lace of her bra. She couldn’t get the image out of her mind. The one that had Tom stripped naked and standing in front of her desk with a half smile on his lips, waiting for her command… What on earth had they put in this champagne?
His expression was deadpan. “Okay. I have apologised, but I can go to the naughty corner if you really want me to.”
She shifted uncomfortably, trying not to imagine Tom pinning her to the wall of the stationery cupboard, lifting up her skirt, his hands tugging down her knickers, his mouth settling over her nipples.
“That won’t be necessary,” she said, sounding prim as triple X-rated fantasies rampaged through her mind.
He was a doctor. She might have known he had an understanding of when people weren’t telling him the truth. His face softened. “I should explain. What I meant to say is, it’s not that I have an allergy to the locals. It’s just that I’m only here for a few months. I’m working a short-term contract at the health centre; then I’m going back to Papua. This situation is merely temporary.”
“Oh.”
Temporary.
Tom had just stood her under the power jet and turned the setting to “icy blast”. She might have known that meeting him was too good to be true.
“That will be a loss to your patients.”
He set his empty glass down on the table. “I’m sure they can’t wait to see the back of me. I don’t think I’m what they were expecting.”
The silence was thick, filled only by the sharp scent of Tom’s aftershave and her heart, beating slow and hard. “You made a nice speech,” she said, trying to shift the conversation to more neutral territory. “It was very…sincere.”
“Thank you.”
“Short too.”
“Now you’re teasing
me
, Ms. Grayson.” His eyes sparkled sexily, making the blood beat in her head.