Mr. Young (Seducing Mr Young) (2 page)

“I like the
industrial skyline,” Connie nodded.

“What else did
you like?”

Connie
considered. “I liked the floor where I had my interview,” she said.
“The polished wood was nice, and the walls weren’t beige, like you
see in so many buildings.”

“Mm,” Antony
nodded. “I dislike boring colours. I didn’t choose the paint, but I
was pleased with how it turned out.”

“So what’s it
like being a billionaire?” Connie asked, figuring if she had lost a
shot at the job, she may as well find out.

Antony’s
eyebrows rose up so high they nearly disappeared into the dark
comma of hair that lay over his forehead. “Well, I’ve never known
anything different…” he said slowly.

“I know,” she
replied. “But honestly, what’s it like to wake up in the mornings
and know all your bills will be paid, you can buy anything you like
and everyone thinks the sun shines out of your ass?” she finished
breathlessly, biting her lip. She expected Antony Young to stop the
cab and throw her out, but instead he threw his head back and
roared with laughter. He had perfectly straight, white teeth and a
deep laugh that was so infectious Connie giggled, too.

“You don’t
mince your words, do you?” he said, wiping a tear away. “Honestly?
It’s boring. There’s no challenge! Like you say, everyone acts like
the sun shines out my ass, but I know most of them can’t stand me.
There’re so many phonies…”

The cab slowed
and Connie knew she was near her home. “This is my stop,” she
smiled. “I’m sorry for being rude just now…”

“Oh, you
weren’t rude,” Antony said as the cab stopped. “You just ask
interesting questions,” he smiled and Connie felt a warm shiver run
through her. “Have a good night,” he nodded at her and she got out
of the cab and ran through the rain to her front door. It was been
a strange day, and an even stranger night.

Chapter
Three

It was six a.m.
when Connie’s mobile phone trilled loudly from under her pillow.
She sat up and snatched the device, not recognising the number on
the screen. She pressed the green button and clamped it to her
ear.

“Hello?”

“Constance
Green?” came the clipped, female voice at the end of the phone.

“Speaking,”
Connie fought to sound as though she wasn’t still in bed, although
why wouldn’t she be? It was still dark!

“Miss Green,
congratulations, the company has decided to hire you on a temporary
basis to assess your skills here at Young Towers,” the voice said,
and Connie felt her heart leap into her throat. “Can you be here at
eight today?”

“Yes, yes of
course,” Connie said, untangling her legs from the sheets and
heading for the bathroom, still on the phone.

“Please bring
some form of I.D,” said the voice. “Report to the same floor as
before, promptly, if you please,” and the call clicked off.
Clearly, people at Young Towers did not go in for saying ‘goodbye’.
Connie showered and dressed in a hurry, catching an expensive cab
into the city and figuring she could afford it now she was on a
payroll. She jogged into the building and rode the swift elevator
to the same floor as the day before, stepping up to the desk with
minutes to spare.

“Good morning,”
she said to the woman who was once again tapping away at her
computer. She expected to be ignored again, but to Connie’s
surprise the woman looked up, smiled and nodded.

“Good morning,
Miss Green. Do you have your I.D?” she held her hand out. Connie
handed it over and the woman took a copy before handing it back.
She then handed Connie a badge that would let her in, out and
around the building. “You’ll need to get that renewed after these
two weeks,” she explained. “This is only a temporary pass.”

“And a
temporary job,” Connie grinned. “What sort of things will I be
doing?”

“You’ll be
acting as Mr. Young’s P.A.,” the woman explained. “So you’ll be
expected to carry out any and all tasks that come your way. You
must not do any filing or data work… If Mr. Young passes you any of
that you can hand it to me and I’ll deal with it, ok?”

“Sounds good,
thanks,” Connie said, looping her badge and lanyard over her head.
“So, where do I go?”

“Take the
elevator to the next floor, and your desk is in the lobby. There
should be a list of tasks on the desk, but if not, try to make
yourself useful,” and she shooed Connie towards the elevator.

The new P.A.
found her desk, without a list of jobs. She looked about, taking in
the surrounds of the high ceilings, the polished boards and the
sensual black leather sofas, and wondered if Antony Young’s office
was through those double doors just beside her desk. She was just
pondering what to do when the intercom on her desk buzzed.

“Miss Green?
Could you come here, please?” the deep voice of Antony Young sang
through the speaker and Connie felt a flutter of excitement. Why
was she being so childish? Did she have such a crush on her
boss?

She checked her
reflection in the dark computer screen and let herself through the
double doors. Once inside, she gasped.

The office was
long, wide and airy, with large windows all around the room,
framing a huge oak desk. The walls were lined with books and files,
and there was a living room set in the centre made of lacquered
wood and highly-polished leather. Sitting at the desk, reading
glasses perched firmly on the end of his nose, was Antony Young. He
was reading a collection of papers, a slight frown creasing his
handsome features.

“Sir?” Connie
asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“Miss Green,”
he said, without looking up, “I wonder if you’d be able to get the
coffee order… It’s saved on your computer… for myself, Mr.
Blackwood and May, please,” he waved his hand to show her she was
dismissed. Connie said yes and hurried down the elevator to the
coffee store. They were three very specific orders and she
double-checked them to make sure they were right. It was only
coffee, but she wanted to make a good first impression.

She knocked on
the double doors and was allowed in, where Karl and May, the
interviewers from the day before, were having a heated discussion
with Antony. Karl was pacing holding a page of figures and Connie
tried to remain invisible as she placed the labelled coffees onto
the desk. She put Antony’s closest to him and felt a sudden thrill
as his fingers brushed against her wrist in his haste to get to the
drink. She blushed and apologised, but no one seemed to hear her
and she let herself out of the room, closing the doors behind
her.

At her desk,
Constance Green sat shakily; running the pads of her fingertips
over the spot Antony had touched her. It was as though his touch
had burned her, and she stroked the spot over and over again until
the touch was only a memory, and she wasn’t even sure it had
happened at all.

“That’s it for
today, Miss Green,” it was starting to get dark when the three
bosses came out of the office. Antony had taken his tie off and was
fixing his watch back onto his wrist. Connie had spent the
afternoon organising the computer, and felt ready for a challenge
the next day. She beamed up at her boss, who smiled back. May and
Karl headed for the elevator and Connie gathered up her things. She
was just lifting her heavy bag when she heard the sound of breaking
glass and a muffled curse.

“Are you
alright, sir?” she went into the office where she heard the noise.
Antony was standing in the centre, holding his own hand. Red blood
dripped onto the carpet. “You’re bleeding!” she cried, taking off
her scarf and heading towards him with it.

“It’s nothing,”
he said, though he allowed her to wrap his hand in the soft
material. “I tried to catch it, but made things worse…” he grimaced
as she wrapped the scarf around tightly.

“Do you need to
go to hospital?” she asked.

“No, I’ll get
Julian to take a look at it,” he said. “It seems to have stopped,
almost, now…”

“Are you sure,
sir?” Connie asked, her face wracked with concern. Antony caught
her eye and gave a crooked smile.

“Of course,
Miss Green,” he reached up with his uninjured hand and stroked her
face, tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear. Connie froze,
delighted by his touch, and afraid to breathe in case she spoiled
the moment. Antony licked his lower lip as if considering
something, and then stood a little straighter. “Thank you, I’ll
follow you out,” he said, taking the scarf firmly and holding his
hand up, towards the ceiling. Connie felt all the blood in her face
rush to her cheeks and she almost sprinted down the office towards
the elevator. What she had wanted, more than anything, was to press
her lips against his, and she was terribly afraid that he knew
that.

Chapter
Four

The first week
of work passed in a blur of coffee, notes and highlighters, but
there had been no repeat of the closeness or intimacy of the night
Antony had cut his hand. She had never got her scarf back, either,
and she felt it had been so long that it would be embarrassing to
ask for it now. She hardly saw her boss at all – only when he
summoned her out of her office into his, and never for more than a
few minutes at a time. Still, there was something she couldn’t
quite place about him. She noticed when he combed his hair in a
different direction, when his glasses were black plastic or
horn-rim, and she knew he had days-of-the-week socks, but never
wore them on the ‘correct’ day.

At the end of
the week, she finally screwed up her courage and knocked on his
door. She was determined to find out what had happened to her
scarf.

“Come in,” she
heard, and let herself in. Antony was packing a briefcase – he was
flying to Paris that weekend and Connie didn’t want to lose her
chance. She noticed he had changed his shirt since that morning,
and vaguely wondered where the old one was.

“Sir,” she
said, stopping in front of the desk.

“Yes, Miss
Green?” he looked up from his packing and raised an eyebrow. She
felt her insides turn to jelly and forced herself to look at the
open briefcase rather than Antony’s deep eyes.

“I was
wondering if you still had my scarf,” she said placidly. “From
Monday? I’d quite like it back,” she chanced a glance up at him and
was rewarded with a gorgeous crooked smile.

“I’m sorry,” he
said. “It had blood all over it… I had to throw it away.”

“Oh!” she said,
feeling more disappointed than she expected. “Well, if it was
ruined…”

“I did look for
another one, the same,” he went on. “But I couldn’t find an exact
replacement, so I thought this was close enough, maybe,” he reached
into his desk drawer and took out a black box with gold lettering
stamped on the lid.

Connie took it
and forced her eyes not to shine at the name of a highly expensive
store shining up at her. Her original scarf had certainly not come
from there. She popped the lid and found an expensive, thick
cashmere scarf that flowed from the box like water. She ran it
through her fingers and grinned in delight.

“It’s
beautiful, thank you so much!” she gushed, folding it back into the
box. “Is it really for me?”

“Of course,”
Antony smiled. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well it’s a
little excessive for a replacement scarf for your P.A.,” she
smirked.

“I suppose, but
it was the closest match to yours, and you like it, don’t you?”

“I love it,”
she insisted, looking deep into his eyes. Antony came around the
desk and put the lid on the box.

“Then take good
care of it,” he said, the tips of his fingers touching hers as they
both held onto the box.

“I… I hope you
have a good time in Paris,” she whispered, disliking the
silence.

“I won’t,” he
sighed, taking the box and putting in onto the desk. “Because I’ll
be without my trusty P.A. How will I cope?”

“You’ll have to
get your own coffee,” Connie giggled nervously.

“Well, I’m sure
I’ll manage on that front,” he smiled. “But I will miss your voice,
and the way you smile with the left hand side of your mouth
first.”

“What do you
mean?”

“When you
smile… The left-side of your mouth turns up before the right, I’ve
noticed,” Antony said shyly. “Just a fraction of a second, but it
does.”

“Wow, that’s…”
she found herself staring at his mouth, wondering which side he
smiled on first. She took half a step closer, and Antony’s hands
took hold of her wrists, gently. She took a deep breath and looked
into those deep, dark eyes once again. Antony blinked and then
leaned forward to gently brush her lips with his.

She responded
eagerly, kissing back and letting the man place her hands on his
hips. His hands cupped her face, holding it softly, brushing her
hair back. Connie opened her mouth slightly and Antony’s tongue
slipped inside, exploring the soft cavity with experienced
deftness. She felt a thrill run from her brain all the way to her
sex, and all thoughts of keeping her job went out of the window.
She knew what she wanted, and it wasn’t a contract – it was
him.

Chapter
Five

Connie leaned
back over the desk, allowing Antony to press his firm body against
her. Her breasts, normally soft and unresponsive swelled in
anticipation of his touch, and she felt her nipples straining
against the confines of her lacy bra. Antony pushed one knee
between her legs and she parted them willingly, eager for what was
to come next.

She gracefully
popped open the buttons on her blouse, letting it fall open,
showing off her breasts. Antony broke away from kissing her to take
in the beauty before him. He pulled off her blouse and expertly
unclipped her bra, freeing her swollen breasts and making her dark
pink, expectant nipples reach for his touch. He did not disappoint,
taking the first into his mouth and gently sucking on it. Connie
felt electric pulses spark from her nipple and dart to her sex,
which she could feel already becoming wet.