Brazen Bossman: A Hero Club Novel

isn’t he? But I know that’s not your style at all.”
I shake my head. “It’s really not. That’s too stuffy for me. I’m a burger and fries kind of girl. NoMad is fois gras with black truffle roasted chicken. Not for me.”
“But you have to admit, that sounds delicious.”
I roll my eyes and laugh. “I’m just hoping to get a whiskey buzz and have a good conversation.”
“And what if he wants to take the date back to his place?” She arches a brow.
“I’m not against it, but I need to see how the booze and conversation go first.”
“Ahem.”
Both of our heads whip toward the sound and find Nathanial leaning against the wall on the opposite side of my desk. I’m not even sure how long he’s been standing there. The man is light as a feather in a tall, solid, muscular body.
“I don’t remember seeing girl talk on your job descriptions. Either of you,” he says with a voice that sends shivers across my skin. I do my best to ignore it, but it’s growing more and more impossible every day.
“I’ll catch you later, Piper,” Kate says. “Sorry, Mr. Lennox.”
She scurries off, her stilettos clicking on the floor as she does so, leaving me completely alone with him.
He stares at me; his eyes boring into me and making me feel completely vulnerable. He has that aura about him. It’s powerful, sensual, and domineering.
“Can I help you with something, Mr. Lennox?”
“Actually, yes. You can help me by doing your job when you’re on the clock. That would be a wonderful start.”
I tilt my head. “You seem to be in a less than stellar mood today. Is there anything I can do to make your day more pleasant?”
I don’t know what it is about our dynamic. I’ve never been afraid to push his buttons, and he’s never afraid to push mine back. As annoying and frustrating as it can be sometimes, it does make our workday a bit more entertaining.
“My mood is the same as it is every day, Ms. Kingston.”
“That’s the truest thing I’ve heard today.”
“Actually, I was coming to ask you to show me the advertising mock-ups that were sent to you this morning.”
“I can just send them to you…”
“No, I’d like your live opinion on them. You have a keen eye for these things, and I’d like to know what you think.”
“Did you just… compliment me? Are you feeling all right?”
“Don’t get used to it, Ms. Kingston.” He steps around to my side of the desk, completely invading my space with his towering presence.
He places a hand on my desk and leans forward to get a better look at my computer screen.
The scent of his cologne is something that haunts me day in and day out. It has been that way since the first day I saw him.
I was first introduced to him the day the staff was alerted to the fact his father was stepping down from his position as CEO and handing the mantle over to his son with no explanation whatsoever. It’s been the office mystery ever since.
I walked into the office, as I always had when I was working for his father, without knocking. Which I now know is very unprofessional, but that was the relationship I had with him. He treated me well, like a friend, not like an employee.
The moment my body crossed the threshold of the office, his cologne hit me like a ton of bricks. Not in an overpowering way. It wasn’t that at all. It was crisp and inviting. I could almost physically see the wisps of scent circling around my body and up into my nose, sending delicious chills over me.
He looked up from his desk, and I swear, we had a romantic comedy moment. Time slowed down, the wind was blowing my hair sexily. All that was missing was a dog tripping me, making me fall, while he used his unrealistic reflexes to catch me before I even hit the ground.
That, however, was quickly nixed when his voice boomed across the walls. “Get the fuck out of my office!”
That moment plays in my head, even now, as he bends over next to me and that very same cologne makes its presence known.
“Are you going to open them?” he asks quietly, pulling me out of my own head.
“What? Oh! Yes.” I clear my throat. “Yes, of course.”
I click open a few files and show him what he is asking for.
“Hmm.”
That sound isn’t exactly a word. It’s more of an involuntary noise that emits from his throat when he is considering something. I’ve noticed it many times, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t do things to me that should never be spoken of when it’s your boss.
“What do you think of them?” he asks me. His body is crowding me in my seat. I can feel he is resting his other hand on the back of my chair. With a wall on one side of me, and his body on the other, I’m completely boxed in.
I take a breath to gather my thoughts. “Well, I think they are lacking a bit of color. Anyone could see these and walk right by them. They don’t speak to me.”
“What about the verbiage?”
“It’s exactly what we would normally use, and it’s what has proven successful in the past.”
I look away from the computer screen and up at his face, taking in his strong jawline and the hint of a five o’clock shadow forming, and I swear, I think I feel his thumb ever so slightly grazing my back.
My traitor of a body, pushes back, pursuing more of a connection, seeking an answer as to whether he was really touching me or if it was all in my head. But the moment is fleeting, and he moves away from me, taking a step back.
“Good. I want you to make the notes on this and reply on my behalf.  You know what I’d like, and it’s easier for you to just take