It Started With A Look: At Her Boss's Bidding / Bedded by the Boss / The Man Every Woman Wants
At Her Boss’s BiddingJustin McCarthy is one of Sydney’s most eligible bachelors – handsome and wealthy! Rachel is his perfect assistant, until the makeover. Now Justin wants her across his desk – wild and willing! Bedded by the BossJessie was thrilled to be offered a job at a top Sydney advertising agency. But her heart sank when she saw the boss – because she’d met Kane Marshall before... The Man Every Woman WantsTo most women Ryan Armstrong is irresistible! Laura, however, refuses to be another notch on Ryan’s bedpost. That’s why he is the last man on earth Laura wants to share a bedroom with for a whole weekend!
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MIRANDA LEE is Australian, and lives near Sydney. Born and raised in the bush, she was boarding-school educated, and briefly pursued a career in classical music before moving to Sydney and embracing the world of computers. Happily married, with three daughters, she began writing when family commitments kept her at home. She likes to create stories that are believable, modern, fast-paced and sexy. Her interests include meaty sagas, doing word puzzles, gambling and going to the movies.
It Started with a Look
At Her Boss’s Bidding
Bedded by the Boss
The Man Every Woman Wants
Miranda Lee
CONTENTS
SHE was perfect, Justin thought from the first moment Ms Rachel Witherspoon walked in to be interviewed.
Perfectly plain and prim-looking, dressed in a very unsexy black suit, mousy brown hair severely scraped back and anchored in a twist. No make-up and no perfume, he realised with relief, the absolute opposite of the blonde bombshell who’d been wiggling her way around his office for the last month, pretending to be his personal assistant.
No, that was probably unfair. The girl had been efficient enough. The company who’d sent her over straight away after his previous PA quit on short notice didn’t have dummies on their books.
But she’d made it clear within a few days that her services could easily extend beyond being just his PA. She’d used every opportunity—and every weapon in her considerable physical arsenal—to get this message across. He’d been bombarded with provocative clothes, provocative smiles and provocative comments till he couldn’t bear another second. When she’d come in last Monday, showing more cleavage than a call-girl, Justin had cracked.
He didn’t sack her as such. He didn’t have to. She was just a temp. He simply told her that this would be her last week, saying that he’d hired a permanent PA and she was starting the following Monday.
A lie, of course. But a necessary one for his sanity.
Not that he was sexually tempted by her. Oh, no. It was just that every time she came on to him, he was reminded of Mandy and what she must have got up to with that boss of hers. What she was still getting up to every single day, jet-setting around the world and being his personal assistant in every which way there was.
Justin’s jaw clenched down hard at the thought. It had been eighteen months since his wife had confessed what had been going on, then added the shattering news that she was leaving him to become her boss’s mistress.
Eighteen months! Yet the pain was still there. The pain of her betrayal and deception, plus the sharpest memory of the hurtful things she’d said to him that final day. Cruel things. Soul-destroying things!
Most men who’d been so savagely dumped might have soothed their battered egos by going out and bedding every female in sight. But Justin hadn’t been to bed with a single woman since Mandy walked out. He simply hadn’t wanted to. Just the thought of being physically intimate with another female made him shudder.
Of course, none of his male friends and colleagues knew that. You didn’t confess such things to other men. They would never understand, or sympathise. His mother had an inkling, though. She knew how hurt he’d been by Mandy’s deception and desertion. She kept telling him that someday he’d meet a really nice woman who’d make him forget about Mandy.
Mothers were eternal optimists. And incorrigible matchmakers.
So when his mum—to whom he’d been complaining about his office situation—rang last weekend to say that she had the perfect PA for him he’d been understandably wary. Only after he’d struggled without a secretary for a week, and been repeatedly reassured that this Rachel was nothing like his temptation of a temp, did Justin agree to interview Ms Witherspoon.
And here she was. In the flesh.
What there was of it.
She was so thin! And terribly tired-looking, with huge black rings under her eyes. Nice eyes, though. Nice shape. And an interesting colour. But so sad.
She was supposed to be only thirty-one, according to the birthdate on her résumé. But she looked closer to forty.
