One Bossy Date: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Bossy Seattle Suits)

The breezy Hawaiian sky is black and the stars twinkle like shredded tinsel over the ocean.

But all I can see, breathe, and taste is my Sunshine.

So warm.

So alive.

So full of soft whimpers and wanting moans and hot breaths made to tease.

Fuck, if I slide my hand up her dress, I know she’ll be soaked and so ready.

And she is.

Her head tumbles back in a mess of blue-streaked blond curls, a sheen of sweat on her brow like a halo, her jade-green eyes narrowed and pleading don’t stop.

Not this time.

My hand has the shakes as I grab my zipper, yank it down, and start to push between her legs, ready to devour every last bit of her and find out how she sounds when she—

A swell of deafening violins never lets me find out.

My goddamned alarm starts blaring like a dental drill to my skull.

I jerk up in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets with a hard-on ready to hit a home run.

Growling, I rake a hand through my hair.

I know what this is.

The fucked-up stress of these shitty, slaughtering reviews.

I’ve never had a crush since high school.

I’ve never kissed a woman in my office, much less came two seconds away from having my fingers inside her while I was on the clock.

Apparently, she’s put my brain through the shredder and she’s barely been on payroll for a solid week.

Don’t get me wrong.

I’m not a goddamned monk.

I’ve bedded my fair share of women like a bear scratching an itch. Quick, one-off flings, and nothing more.

That isn’t what this feels like.

So what the hell is it? What’s going on?

“You’re going to self-sabotage, you buffalo-brained fuck,” I mutter. “Focus.”

For less than an hour, I manage.

About the time it takes to stomp through the shower, rub out a bone-jarring orgasm that has me grinding my teeth, and stuff myself into a clean suit before Fyo shows up outside my place—with a beautiful sunny smile from hell waiting in the back of the vehicle.

“Here. Peace offering,” she whispers, shoving a coffee cup into my hand. “I had Fyodor stop at Wired Cup. I hoped it’d make things less awkward and he said this was your favorite.”

I nod a thanks, pretending to keep my eyes glued to my phone as I sip my double shot of espresso.

I’m grateful she doesn’t make much small talk and takes the hint to leave me the fuck alone.

Nothing good can come from more chitchat unless it’s focused on business.

After that dream, after beating off to her to keep my own sanity again, I don’t trust myself around this office nymph.

Not even on the way to the office with my driver in the front and the privacy screen deliberately left down.

So I barely acknowledge her until we’re pulling up to the main entrance of the tower with Winthrope International’s global headquarters inside.

“Thank you for the pick-me-up,” I say. “If you hoped to bribe me into a better mood today, it’s working.”

For a second, our eyes connect.

Damn her, why does she wear that bittersweet smile?

“Of course. You’re welcome.” She bounces with that adorable little pencil skirt flapping too.

I start chugging coffee so fast it burns my tongue and I swear.

Fyo looks up with concern. “Mr. Winthrope?”

“Nothing, nothing. Mind your business,” I grumble, stabbing up the privacy screen even though I step out a second later.

Piper fucking Renee is going to dismember me without even laying a finger on me.

How the hell do I ever behave around her?

There’s no way around having multiple encounters a day with her in outfits designed to drive a man to his blue-balled madness.

I’d love to shove her into a utility closet and rip that damn skirt off.

Fortunately, I forgot what a busy asshole I am until Keenan warns me how full my schedule really is.

I barely see Miss Sunshine in my office for several days, and more than once I stay seated when she comes to touch base on the review investigation.

Neither of us mention that blasphemous kiss. Our banter dwindles when I’m dismissing her in ten minutes.

Business as usual.

Everything a sensible man should do, ignoring how it leaves my blood molten and my heart drumming every time I watch her delectable ass sauntering away from me.

Fuck everything about this.

I shouldn’t care.

It doesn’t matter. We work together, and I am not blowing myself up for an office fling.

It’s easy to keep insisting that’s the case until we’re due for another late-night conference call with Winthrope Europe’s head based in Paris. I need her to join so she can soak up anything valuable.

I text her. Come to my office promptly.

It takes her less than a minute to see it and start giving me hell.

Piper: Most bosses ask. It wouldn’t kill you to pretend I have a choice.

Brock: Most employees like me continuing to sign their checks. Come now.

Piper: God, you suck.

I’m making a fist under the table before she even walks in a few minutes later with a notebook. “What’s up?”

“There’s a conference call tonight with our Paris lead, and I need you on it. It’ll be a late night, so freshen up or catch a nap before the meeting if you need it.”

Her face goes ashen.

I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “Miss Renee, if you’re still worried about what happened last time, let me assure you I will be on my supremely best behavior.”

Her eyes flash doubt, but the shock on her face lingers.

“It’s not that, but I… I can’t stay tonight. There’s something going on. Something important.” She shifts nervously. “I mean, maybe I can Zoom in from home? Would that work?”

What’s this?

She’s practically down on one knee begging, and begging isn’t in this woman’s makeup.

“If you can do it from home, why can’t you do it here? We have access to everything you could need in the office, plus a chance to immediately assess any new ideas or feedback.”

“I just—I can’t, okay? Not tonight.”

What’s the big damned secret?

She can trust me.

I didn’t kiss and tell last week, even if I suspect Fyo has his suspicions. The man has a sixth sense and sometimes I think he’s Rasputin’s bastard great grandson.

Is she really so afraid of me? Did I fuck up that much when I let my dick do the steering?

“I need to ask you something, Miss Renee.”

“Sure.” She beams that contagious smile.

“The attraction between us can’t be denied. Are you afraid to work late with me again because you think I can’t control myself?”

She shakes her head. “Absolutely not. It takes two to tango and I wasn’t completely passive when you…yeah. But tonight, I have family obligations. And just so we’re clear, you’re not remotely my type,” she adds.

Fuck.

I feel like I’m sitting here with a shot blown in my chest.

“First off, Piper Renee, we’ve had two scalding kisses that say very differently.”

I know I shouldn’t say it. Especially when she blushes and bites her cherry lip.

I wish like hell she was biting mine.

“I shouldn’t have brought it up. Sorry,” she whispers.

“Don’t be.”

“But—”

Enough of this bullshit.

Before I can slow down to think, I’m next to her, cupping her face.

She closes her eyes and sighs.

All hopes of resisting another bad decision fade with a rush of hot breath.

Do something drastic, woman.

Slap me. Bite me.

Give me one good reason why I’m so fucking radioactive.

Instead, her lips curve into a soft smile and she tilts her chin up. An open invitation.

I meet her mouth with a groan spilling out of me, pulling her arms around my chest.

We’re ravenous as I slam her against the closest wall, fumbling her legs around my waist. My hips crash against hers, pinning her down roughly as my mouth works, grinding her into willing submission.

Then I move us to the couch, settling her in my lap so I can kiss her thoroughly.

Her tongue traces my tongue, nice and slow and sweeter than molasses.

If these walls weren’t so thin, I think I’d already be jackhammering her on my desk.

Thank God for small favors.

Framing her face with my hand, I hold it still as I pull away. “Now tell me I’m not your type so we can stop this nonsense.”

“Gladly, you jackass.” She glares at me, all green-eyed fury.

“You like human donkeys. Noted.”

“No way!”

She slides off me but I grab her wrists, anchoring her next to me.

“And yet this keeps happening, liar,” I whisper, brushing my lips over hers again, refusing to melt into another kiss sure to turn my vision red.

She opens her mouth like she’s dying to say more, closes it, and opens it again. “Well, I’ve never kissed you first.”

I chuckle. “That’s your defense? I’m glad you’re not in Legal.”

“Better than yours. You’ve got the self-control of a kitten in a catnip field.”

“I never denied the attraction. I tried to do the adult thing and talk about it honestly,” I point out.

She shrinks back, batting her eyes at me.

“You call this talking? Also, don’t flatter yourself. You lied to me from the second we met about who you were.”

“Will you ever drop that?” I flare, anger mingling with the simmering lust.

“We’ll see. It’s a pretty big deal.”

“It’s not. I was simply trying to protect my reputation and Winthrope’s.”

“Yours, yeah. The company’s? Um, no. At dinner that night I gave you the perfect chance to come clean. You didn’t. You still lied,” she says, turning away from me.

“You can’t stay mad about that. You just want to so there’s one more reason to keep our distance. Tell me I’m wrong.” I’m growling again, this jagged edge in my voice.

She faces me again, her eyes heated. “Okay. So you might be a billionaire and about as friendly as a flaming cactus, but you do not tell me what I’m mad about, Winthrope.”

I stare at her.

“You’re still looking at my mouth.”

She jumps and inhales sharply. “Not anymore!”

“Nice while it lasted, huh? I prefer brunettes, historically, but you, Miss Sunshine, are a lethal blond exception.”

“Lethal?” she spits back.

Then she glares at me and kicks me square in the shin.

It’s so light I barely feel it.

“You’re too cute when you’re mad. I hate you,” I grind out.

“Oh, you have no idea what hate feels like, you shameless, overgrown—”

“Back to the important part.” I cut her off mid-insult. “I need you to stay tonight unless it’s truly life and death. Also, we’re going to Winthrope Chicago this weekend, so pack your bags.”

She turns pale.

“Tonight’s a stretch, but this weekend? Are you sure?”

What the hell is her deal?

She has no problem kissing me and chewing me out. Yet the second I mention a business trip away from home, it’s like I’ve handed down a prison sentence.

“I thought you enjoyed travel? What’s wrong with this weekend? You’re paid at the rate you are because nights and weekends may be necessary.”

She nods. “I understand that, it’s just—”

“Family issues again? The ones you won’t specify?” I’m annoyed and suspicious but I try not to sound bitter. “The company will pay for whatever you need, Miss Renee—babysitter, fruit basket, get-well-soon card. Whatever. I need you free to work, and I need you focused. If there’s anything you need to do your job better, the company will provide it.”

“Brock—Mr. Winthrope—you can’t help with this. Really,” she says harshly.

I raise a brow.

Somehow, she doesn’t know she’s talking to a man with near limitless resources and vast connections to corporate royalty.

I can help with damn near any normal problem imaginable, short of sending a rocket to the moon. And with a man who rhymes with tusk on speed dial, I can probably even manage that.

“Try me.”

“No, it’s—it’s nothing. It’s just a private family thing. Maybe ‘problem’ isn’t even the right word,” she says weakly.

I need to pull it out of her, whatever it is.

She hinted at some family pressure back in Hawaii, too. Wasn’t that her reason for not being able to travel more?

“Tell me, Miss Renee. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”

She shakes her head like it’s solid stone. “I have to help someone. It isn’t your problem.”

“Sunshine—”

Shit.

I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

“I need you to come to Chicago this weekend and I will move whole mountain ranges to make it happen. You just need to untie your tongue and tell me how.”

Her cheeks redden as she looks away. “I’ll think about it…”

Then she walks to my door and puts her hand on the knob.

“You’ll be here for the meeting at eleven o’clock sharp, yes?” I ask.

She looks back at me and nods.

“And this weekend?”

“I’ll try. I’ll figure something out—”

“You could let me help.”

“No. I don’t want to go there. No offense. You’re already paying me pretty fairly, so it wouldn’t be right.” She sighs. “And you’re my boss.”

Why do I have a feeling the words not my boyfriend are hanging in the air? Hell, I’m not even interested in changing that.

I just need her at this work event, preferably without defiling her.

“I’m well aware. And I’m not sure what you’re trying to imply, but you can give it a rest.”

“Don’t,” she snaps. “Can we not go there?”

I fold my arms and shrug.

With a deflated glance, she disappears out the door.

If she won’t tell me, I’ll just find out myself.

A dozen ways to pick apart her life rattle in my head, all of them unprofessional and possibly illegal.

Goddamn, what does she mean when she keeps saying family, though?

If she’s hiding a husband or kids while she’s kissing me and giving me hell for lying to her months ago, I’m going to go nuclear.

But if her trouble is anything else, I’ll fix it, whether she damn well likes it or not.

Knock-knock!

“Come,” I call at the door.

It’s late when Fyo pushes into the office. “You wanted to see me?”

“Shut the door behind you and grab a seat.”

He does, falling into the seat across from me. He’s almost as bulky as I am, even if he’s over ten years older, and the chair sinks beneath his weight.

“You’ve been picking Miss Renee up and dropping her off?”

He nods. “On schedule. Occasionally, she has me stop to pick up Miss Landers.”

“So, she’s enjoying this.” I roll my eyes and scoff.

He shrugs.

“I get the feeling this is a novelty for her, sir. She wasn’t enjoying it at first, and she thought it was weird you wanted her to have an escort after dark.”

I shake my head.

“I would have done it for any woman. You know that.”

Fyo nods heavily.

What kind of fuckass does she think I am?

“Tell me this, have you ever noticed a man or kids at her house?” I ask carefully.

His big, broad shoulders shake as he bursts into rolling laughter.

“Fyo, that’s not a joke,” I growl. “What’s so damn funny?”

“Boss, please understand, you’re asking the wrong man.”

He’s not wrong. I should have asked her point-blank.

I twist in my seat, thinking about it quietly.

“No,” he says a minute later.

I’m so lost in my head I have no idea what he’s talking about. I raise an eyebrow.

He smiles coldly. “I’ve never seen a man or kids at the house. There is another girl, but she’s too young to interest you.”

“That’s not the point.” I wrinkle my nose and steeple my fingers. “Miss Renee keeps telling me she can’t do this or that when I ask. All because she has some mysterious crisis but refuses to elaborate on what it is. I want to help her, but I have no idea how when I’m effectively blind.”

“She’s important to you,” he says thoughtfully.

I sigh. No use in hiding it. “She’s the best marketing mind in this building. I can’t afford to have her distracted.”

He smiles again. “You know I started business not long after I came to your country, yes?”

“I remember you mentioning it.”

Where’s he going with this?

“I had this amazing employee. She could fix any glitch in my dispatch system in a matter of minutes and always gave great customer service. Then some dickhead from a bigger limo company tried poaching her. I thought this suka—this bitch in his three-piece suit—was going to succeed one day. I knew I couldn’t lose her.”

“And? What did you do?”

“Followed him out of the building one night with a broken bottle and made sure he knew he wasn’t welcome. That if I ever saw his ugly face again, I’d take him apart limb by limb—”

“That’s hardcore.”

Blunt, but effective. Though I still see his point.

Fyo nods. “Then I went back inside and told that woman I would die without her. And if she didn’t marry me this instant, my death would be on her hands.”

Holy shit.

It’s my turn to laugh. “Fyo, no thanks. It’s not like that at all with—”

“It is,” he says sharply. “The way you look at her alone. You can’t lie to me, boss.”

I ignore his observation.

“Just out of curiosity, what did she do?” I ask.

“She slapped me in the face and told me to stop being a jealous psychopath. If I wanted to marry her, she said I needed to do better.”

I grimace. “Sorry. How did you get over that?”

“Easy. I started taking her out for dinners, emptied my savings account, bought a big ring, and rented a carriage. I took her downtown and told her it shouldn’t have taken some douchebag in a suit for me to get serious about her and that she was right. My first proposal was not worthy, but if she’d give me a chance, I said I’d work like a dog every single day to make her happy.”

Impressive.

I had no idea Fyo’s relationship was this intense.

“Sounds like a romance movie,” I say.

“She cried. She didn’t think I loved her that much and all of this was a damn pissing contest to impress her. But then, she knew.” He leans forward. “Boss, I know your situation is different. You can’t go after women without everyone watching and reporters in your face or your grandparents giving you an interrogation. Still. Sometimes all you can do is be honest. Ask Miss Piper what you want to know.”

“I tried several times,” I tell him.

“Did you ask the right way? No, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

I scowl at his logic.

“I was hoping you could find out for me, even just by watching.”

He chuckles and shakes his large head. “Sometimes you feel like a little brother, Mr. Winthrope. But some things I cannot do. Some things, you must do yourself.”

It’s about time for the meeting with Winthrope Paris when Piper sails in carrying two disposable Winthrope cups. She sets one on my desk and sits down on the couch with her coffee and her notepad.

“Another peace offering?” I ask, twirling the steaming cup in my fingers.

She nods.

Damn. She’s not making this easy.

Then again, when the hell does Piper Renee ever make anything easy?

I move closer and sit beside her.

“I didn’t mean to pry earlier. If I overstepped my bounds, I’m sorry.”

“Forget it, no need to apologize. I’m the one with the complicated life.” She won’t look at me.

“I just thought I could help.”

“But you don’t have to. You’re already taking a huge chance on me with the instant promotion and an assignment I’m clearly in over my head with, honestly.”

“I don’t believe that for a second, Miss Renee. Find your confidence and wear it,” I say sharply. “Also, you’re still ignoring the fact that I want to help you.”

“I know, and that’s not what I meant.” She sighs. “Can we just not talk about it, please? I came here for the meeting like you asked.”

She did.

And somehow, I think I’m beginning to understand.

“It’s important to take care of whatever it is on your own, isn’t it?”

When she doesn’t respond, I know I’m on target.

“A very smart woman once reminded me why honesty is important,” I say, my eyes assessing her.

“Funny. A very dumb man once told me he managed a gorgeous resort in Lanai. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

“Will you always bring that up whenever you want to change the subject?”

“Possible but not plausible.”

“Liar,” I growl.

“Takes one to know one.”

There we go again, devolving into grade school quips. I hold my tongue and open my laptop.

“It’s time for our meeting,” I say, logging into Zoom and connecting with Antoine.

The meeting moves at a crawl.

Antoine is nothing short of painstakingly detailed, and with the advertising minutia and his thick accent, she has to ask him to repeat things multiple times to take notes.

It’s almost three a.m. before we’re done.

Thankfully, Winthrope Europe seems unaffected yet by the onslaught of horseshit reviews plaguing my American resorts.

Once the meeting ends, I decide to take another stab at smoothing things over with Piper.

“In the future, when you tell me you have private matters, I’ll be more understanding. The PR situation is getting worse by the day, and I need your talent.”

“You’ll be more understanding?” she echoes.

I nod.

“And will you hold it against me?”

I scowl at her. “Never. However, if you ever decide you can trust me with your family problems, I’ll be happy to help.”

“Have you ever helped anyone else with a personal problem?” she asks cautiously.

“A few times,” I say, my mind flicking back to places I’d rather not tread.

“Oh. I guess that’s slightly better. I wondered if it was just me because we—never mind.”

“The well-being of my people has nothing to do with whether or not we’re on ill-advised kissing terms, Miss Renee. Also, we’re sharing a ride tonight.”

She finally smiles. “Oh, yeah? Why?”

“Because I’m fucking beat, and Fyo can drop me off after he drops you. You’ll have to put up with me for another half hour.”

“It’s your driver and you run the whole company. You should go home first.”

I shake my head. She’s only seen me picked up from the condo I own downtown.

“My main residence is a drive from Seattle, and you look more tired than me.”

She nods slowly and listens for once.

I stand, helping her up from the couch. “Let’s go.”

Her hand lingers in mine as we walk.

A minute after we’re in the SUV, she’s falling asleep.

I don’t wake her until Fyo stops in front of an A-frame house in a residential neighborhood.

It’s an older part of town, but it’s clean and well maintained. Though her house is the only one without a car in the driveway, and I don’t see any back-alley parking like some older homes around here.

Odd.

“Should I wake her?” Fyo asks quietly from the driver’s seat.

“Leave it to me.”

I slide out of the vehicle and gather Piper in my arms, ready to carry her inside.

Halfway to her doorstep, she stirs, grabbing at my shirt collar. “What? Wait. Put me down.”

“You’re exhausted and we’re almost there.”

“Yeah, thanks. I can walk five steps on my own,” she insists.

But when I set her down, we’re right in front of her door.

She gives me a longing glance over her shoulder before I walk back to the vehicle. I leave the window open once I’m in the back seat.

“Should we go?” Fyo asks.

“No, I want to make sure she’s inside before I leave.”

I watch her fish keys out of her purse and let herself in. I don’t exhale until I see the light switch on and her curved silhouette moving behind the curtains.

“Drive,” I say, punching the window up.

“I take it your talk went well?” Fyo asks with a snort.

I stare into the night without meeting his eyes in the mirror.

He nods. “Sorry, Mr. Winthrope.”