The Tycoon's Secretive Temptress Read online

  The Tycoon’s Secretive Temptress

  By Elizabeth Lennox

  www.ElizabethLennox.com

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  Or on Twitter: www.twitter.com/Elizabethlenno1

  Copyright 201

  ISBN13: 9781944078898

  All rights reserved

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Epilogue

  Excerpt to “Taming Mack”

  Chapter 1

  The soft ping of the elevator’s arrival was her only warning.

  Even the faint sounds of his confident footsteps were muted by the thick carpeting on the executive hallway but…she knew. Gianna knew exactly who had just stepped off that elevator. Not because she could feel him, hear him, or because the scent of his spicy aftershave preceded his presence.

  Nope. She knew who was coming down the long, silent hallway because it was seven fourteen in the morning. Every morning at exactly ten minutes past seven, Brant Jones drove his sleek Mercedes into the mostly-empty parking lot. At eleven minutes past seven, he stepped through the doors of the corporate headquarters for Rembrandt Cosmetics, walking across the impressive lobby, but already looking pre-occupied, ready to tackle the world. The elevator ride up to the executive floor absorbed the next three minutes.

  After working for the man for the past several months, Gianna knew that she could set her watch to his arrival. Every morning, there was absolutely no deviation from the man’s rigid routine.

  Twisting the rubber band around with her fingers, she idly wondered what he would do if she snapped the band across the hallway and…!

  NO! No, no, no, no, no! With horror, she watched as the rubber band soared over the thick carpet, landing beside a very expensive pair of loafers.

  Darn it!

  “Bored again, Gianna?”

  That deep, gravelly voice vibrated through her. A part of her wanted to figure out how to make the man smile. Another part wanted to piss him off. Unfortunately, those opposing impulses seemed to wage a constant battle in her head. And equally unfortunate was her lack of filter, which meant that she tended to act on those unfortunate, unwise impulses.

  “Um…”

  Quickly, Gianna shoved the papers under a stack of files. When she looked up at him, his frown deepened. Gianna could see the suspicion in his handsome features and moved quickly to distract him.

  “Did you have a good morning?” she asked, her smile bright and hopeful.

  He glanced from the stack of files to her face, his gaze narrowing with…something strange. Distrust?

  “In my office, Gianna,” Brant Jones snapped. Those shoes turned and walked down the hallway towards the posh executive offices.

  Gianna stood up slowly, giving him time to move ahead her. No point in creating additional naughty, ill-advised temptation in her head, she lectured herself. As for watching the man’s broad shoulders…well, the ideas that occurred to her simply weren’t professional or appropriate.

  Moments later, she stepped into his office and stood there, waiting for…something.

  “Close the door,” Brant ordered. Gianna considered defying the command, not sure if she wanted to be alone with the man in his current mood. It might be better if there were witnesses to her murder.

  Then she caught his glare and all of those deliciously naughty ideas came flooding back to her. That need to get a rise out of Brant Jones, to make him feel…something, anything other than disdain for her, hit her hard. So as she reached for the door, their eyes locked. He anticipated her act and glared harder, daring her to follow through. Wrong thing to do, Gianna thought gleefully. A challenge? Oh, she was always up for a challenge! Especially where this man was concerned.

  Slam!

  There! Door closed, she thought with satisfaction. And noise! Goodness, the loud noise inside this stuffy office felt liberating!

  As she watched, his irritation grew.

  Brant didn’t say anything for a long moment. He simply stared at her. Like a bug. A huge, creepy bug crawling across his immaculate, expensive carpet. His immaculate, noise-silencing carpet! How about a tile floor, she thought as she waited for his furious inspection to end.

  “Why would I install tile?”

  Gianna blinked, cringing inwardly. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Darn filter! What’s the point of having a filter if it didn’t work?!

  “Um…just…sound.” Giving in to her desperation, she moved forward slightly, her hands lifting into the air imploringly, speaking as much with her hands as with her words, as any good Italian woman tended to do. “Don’t you ever want some noise? Something to let you know that you’re alive and that the world is moving around?” She spun around, unaware of her skirt lifting with the movement, giving her boss a glimpse at her legs. Sighing as she took in the amazing view of the mountains from his massive office, she spun back to face him once again. “In this silent room, it is oppressive! You have a gorgeous view of the Rocky Mountains and yet,” her arm swept the air, indicating his massive desk and leather chair, “you work with your back to the resplendent view!”

  Brant settled slowly in said leather chair, making sure that he didn’t look down at her legs…again. It was always a delight to watch Gianna talk, her wild, dark curls dancing around her delicate features. Even listening to her was amazing. Her English was brilliant. Her words were tinged with a beautiful, lilting, Italian accent. He almost laughed at her use of ‘resplendent’ but swallowed the urge, not wanting to offend her. He knew that she constantly pushed to improve her use of the language by trying out new words and phrases. Sometimes her new words were right on target and other times, they weren’t. Either way, she was like a breath of crisp, fresh air. A freshness that he loved, even though she made him crazy. There was something about her…she hid things from him, such as the papers she’d shoved under the files moments ago. And yet, her work was always perfect. Was he only imagining that? Was he looking for ways to not trust her? He wasn’t used to women affecting him the way Gianna did, and yet he couldn’t seem to stop noticing…well, noticing every damn thing about her!

  Unfortunately, she was bored. He knew that she needed better challenges, more intellectual stimulation, but no matter how many assignments he handed over to her, she finished them with ease and accuracy, wanting more. She was doing the jobs of three people at the moment. Yet she still didn’t have enough to keep her busy.

  Still, her attitude and pranks were...well, he couldn’t take it easy on her. There was a professionalism within the company that needed to be maintained. “Your father asked me to hire you, Gianna. He wanted you to work, not redecorate my office.”

  She stomped across the office, obviously offended by the comment. “I work! But that’s all anyone does here! They work! No one does anything interesting!” She huffed for a moment, then swung around. “Where is the fun? Where is the laughter? You Americans!” she sighed with an inelegant snort. “You never do anything fun! You all work too hard and never stop to enjoy all of life’s g
lorious gifts! Even in your off time, you run and exercise, not taking time to relax and simply enjoy the sunrise or sunset!”

  Brant leaned back in his chair, images of the fun things he’d like to do with her dancing in his mind. He’d start with taking off that sexy wrap dress that clung to her voluptuous figure. With one light tug of that silk bow at her tiny waist, the dress would fall open. One tug and he would be able to see all her lush curves. At twenty-five, Gianna had an Italian sense of style which was so different from the comparatively conservative American looks. The flamboyant colors and simple lines contributed to the sensuousness of whatever she wore. Add her dramatic flair for everything and it was no wonder Brant was hooked. Completely!

  Not that he would do anything about it. She was gorgeous and outrageous, flagrantly taunting him some days and others, annoying him by simply walking down the office hallways. Knowing that he couldn’t touch her made him grit his teeth. And the hiding! He couldn’t forget about whatever it was that she hid under the files the moment he looked into her office.

  Blinking, he focused back on the present. She’d asked him a question. Question? No, she’d made a comment. Something about…Americans? Yeah, that was it. She thought that Americans were boring and work driven. Oh, if only she could see his thoughts, she’d know full well that he was focused on her at the moment. Work? Hell, at the moment, he had no idea what was on his desk or on his calendar. His entire thought process was focused on Gianna and that damn bow at her waist!

  On the other hand, Brant was fully aware of the enticing shadow between her breasts and her slender ankles. Pulling his eyes back up to her darker ones, he nodded in agreement, trying to remember the topic of conversation. “Yes. Americans work hard.”

  “Why?!” she gasped, throwing her hands up in the air again. That dramatic Italian flair never ceased to amaze him. “Why can’t you just take a day off and…” she gestured toward the mountains, “go have a picnic! Luxuriate in the beauty around you! Take a bubble bath or drink some wine!”

  “You want me to take a bubble bath?” he teased. Gianna didn’t understand that he was teasing her and her disgust escalated. Which only amused him further.

  She wagged a finger at him. “You’re such an American! You take everything so actually!”

  “Literally,” he corrected in what he hoped was a gentle tone.

  “Exactly!”

  He didn’t explain. Why bother? He liked it when she messed up a word or phrase. He thought it was adorable, just like the rest of her. And besides, her grasp of the English language was leaps and bounds better than his grasp of Italian. Although, he’d started looking up a few words, trying to figure out what she occasionally muttered under her breath.

  Focusing back on their conversation, he said, “So, you want to go on a picnic?”

  She swung around and he again had to stifle a chuckle as she glared at him. Obviously, his intimidating nature didn’t affect her like it affected the rest of his staff. The woman was courageous, he’d give her that much.

  “A picnic would be lovely, but it isn’t the only thing that would brighten a day!”

  He tapped his fingers on his desk. Damn, he loved it when her accent deepened. He could gauge her emotions by the intensity of her accent. Right at this moment, she was angry, but even that turned him on.

  Ignoring his body’s increasing reaction to her lush figure and sparkling eyes, he cocked an eyebrow. “Other suggestions?”

  She frowned thoughtfully, her hands coming to rest on her rounded hips. “You are mocking me.” With a sigh, she looked up at the ceiling, then back at him. Thankfully, he was able to bring his eyes back up to hers before she noticed he was surveying her breasts. The dress was made of some sort of stretchy material. It was literally straining at the seams as the material struggled to keep her lush curves encased.

  “I’m not mocking you. Your father asked me to take care of you.”

  She stomped a foot and he wondered what she would do if he lifted her into his arms and….

  “My father asked you to employ me for this next year.”

  “And take care of you.” He only said it to irritate her further. And yeah, he liked it when she wiggled like that. Brant struggled, and failed, to keep his eyes on her face. What else could a man to do when she moved like that? Did she have any idea of how erotic it was when she did that? Everything moved! Every sensuous, gorgeous, sexy part of her figure drew his attention! And yeah, his eyes drifted lower, taking it all in. He was only human after all.

  “No! No man takes care of me! One takes care of babies and children! I take care of myself! I refuse to allow any man to take care of me!”

  Brant ignored this assertion because he had communicated with Gianna’s father every week since she’d arrived two months ago. The man worried about his daughter and demanded regular updates on her welfare from Brant.

  “Did you finish the report I sent to you yesterday?” he asked, changing the subject.

  She shrugged dismissively. “Yes. Your sales are down in the West Coast by two percent, but up dramatically in the East Coast,” she explained. “Eleven point one percent, actually.” She swung around to look at him. “The trainer on the east is wonderful. Selena trained that team good and they know how to suggest individual products more better.”

  Brant leaned back in his chair, enjoying the errors in her language as well as the accent. He listened as Gianna recited specifically which products were more closely aligned with another and which upsold best. It was an easy, service-oriented way of selling more by simply suggesting the client purchase mascara remover when they bought mascara. Or suggesting makeup primer when they wanted foundation. It was simple to explain how primer allowed a customer to use less makeup and help it last all day, thereby saving them money in the long term. And Gianna’s lilting accent only made the recitation even more interesting.

  As she recited the details from memory, all of his suspicions were pushed away. She was an outstanding employee, he thought. If he had some salacious thoughts, then he’d just have to be more disciplined about his interactions with her.

  Gianna, with her brilliant mind and impressive ability to recall, knew the figures for each section of the country and the profit margins for each product off the top of her head. So not only had she done the research, she knew exactly how to improve top-line revenue in the areas that had lower sales. Her analysis wasn’t just numbers. It was extraordinary!

  She had more than earned a promotion. Even if she was only here for the year, the woman’s intelligence and insight deserved more responsibility and more money – and less of his unfounded suspicions. “So, what do you suggest?”

  “Get the East Coast trainer out to the West Coast and train the trainers more effectively,” she replied, as if the solution was obvious.

  He’d already made a note to do so. For the next hour, he asked detailed questions and she answered them without hesitation, including statistics and data to back up each of her suggestions. She’d been hired to work in the financial department under Brant’s chief financial officer, but the information she had provided was far better than what his CFO, Ken, had provided yesterday. Ken only presented the raw numbers, not the analysis behind the numbers. Ken was good, but Gianna was better. Ken’s analysis wasn’t as thorough, nor could he spout the data off the top of his head as Gianna could and did.

  His assistant Todd rapped timidly on the door, interrupting their enlightening and fascinating conversation.

  “What is it?” Brant snapped, ignoring the way Todd cringed slightly at the fierceness in his tone.

  “I apologize for interrupting, sir, but your first meeting of the morning has convened.”

  Brant eyes slashed to the computer monitor, surprised that so much time had passed. Sure enough, there was a flashing message indicating that he was late for his first meeting. Unfortunately, his distraction was normal when Gianna was around.

  He returned to Gianna, sitt
ing in front of his desk. Her brown eyes glowed with defiance as her dark curls danced around her shoulders, her body vibrating with energy. What was it about Gianna…?

  Her gaze challenged him to say she’d gotten anything wrong during their hour-plus conversation. And damn it, he really wanted to! He wanted to tell her to get the hell out of his office and his company. He wanted to order her back to Italy where her sense of vibrancy and beauty belonged. And yet, he also wanted her to stay right there in that chair so that he could talk to her, watch her animated features and just…be with her.

  Gianna was a complication in his life that he didn’t need or want. He absolutely refused admit that she was driving him to distraction. So, what if he looked forward to seeing her every damn morning? And there was no way he’d admit to anyone else that he enjoyed looking at her, talking with her. Listening to her.

  Seeing her smile.

  It made absolutely no sense. He had to remind himself that didn’t trust her, he didn’t like her, and he definitely didn’t think she was beautiful. Even though she was. Stunningly beautiful! And damn, he hated the way her full lips softened like that, as if she might be thinking about kissing him like he thought about kissing her.

  Kissing?

  Wait. Huh?! What the hell? He never thought about kissing the damn woman! He wanted her gone! Out of his life!

  And yet, his eyes lingered on those soft lips, wondering if she would vibrate with the same kind of energy if he made love to her. What would her lips do when she clim….!

  “Sir?”

  Brant glowered at his assistant, irritated that his concentration on Gianna’s lips had been interrupted. “What?”

  Yeah, he’d been reduced to this, he thought. Brant considered admonishing himself for looking, but Gianna’s full, incredibly full, round breasts were…beautiful. And lush. There really was no other way to describe her. Tiny waist, full hips, and breasts that would be more than a handful.

  She was too short, he told himself. At several inches over six feet, Brant preferred women to be tall and sultry, with more subtle curves. He liked athletic women, he reminded himself firmly. He wondered if Gianna played any sports. She had the kind of body men drool over, watch and stare at longingly.