Say Yes to the Boss, an all-new steamy billionaire romance from Olivia Hayle is available now!
I once compared Victor St. Clair to Satan, but that’s unkind.
Even the devil treats his demons better than St. Clair treats me.
I know his schedule by heart. He can’t remember my first name.
So when he calls me into his office, I’m expecting another rant.
Instead he says he needs to get married to inherit the St. Clair fortune.
Oh, and the kicker? He wants to marry me. His assistant.
A one-year marriage of convenience to the boss I hate.
It means living with Victor’s dark stares and silences for a full year.
But it’s also a chance to quit my job and start my own business.
He’s a jerk, but he’s also a respected businessman. How hard can it be?
Answer: very. Because there’s more to Victor than I thought.
Things beyond learning his lunch orders and sending company memos.
And while the man is cold, his kisses are hot enough to consume us both.
He drove me crazy at work. Now he drives me crazy in bed.
But craziest of all is… I might get used to being Mrs. St. Clair.
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Excerpt
"Have a seat, Myers.”
Nerves dance in my stomach, but I do as he says, sitting down on the chair opposite his desk. "I'm sorry.”
Victor looks at me from his computer. "What are you apologizing for?”
"My resume?" I ask. "You saw it? I know I shouldn't have had it in the office."
"No," he says, "you shouldn't have."
“I recognize that, and I’m sorry. Won’t happen again.” I'm about to start cold sweating beneath my silk blouse.
Victor raises an eyebrow. “Despite how unprofessional that might have been,” he says, "I didn't call you in for that."
"Oh."
He leans back in his chair and looks at me in that full, scrutinizing way he'd done the other day. That's twice in a week. I bear the full brunt of Victor St. Clair's intensity, unsure if I'll survive a third time.
"So you want to quit," he says.
"No,” I say. “I mean, I might in the future. This has been a terrific job, truly. But I think I've learned all I can in this position. I’m thinking of finding another job, one more challenging, so I can continue to grow. But that’s in the future.”
“Right. Well, that’s excellent."
I stare at him for a long moment, my heart pounding like I’ve run a marathon. His words don’t make sense. "It's… excellent, sir?"
"Yes. I have a new job proposal for you."
"You do?" He has never expressed anything but disdain or a complete lack of interest in me. Had I managed to impress him? I do everything he asks of me and a lot more he doesn’t.
"Yes. It's unorthodox."
“Unorthodox?”
He braces his hands on the desk. "You know that my grandfather passed a few months ago.”
“Yes, I do. I helped arrange his funeral."
“Right. Well, he left a will."
"Oh."
"A will with certain... stipulations."
This I understand. “You want me to coordinate with the lawyers?"
The lines of his face deepen. "No. I've already tried that for the past half year. They won’t budge.”
“Oh. Well, I’m sorry."
His jaw works. “My grandfather’s will stipulates that to gain access to my inheritance, I must be married.”
"Married, sir? Is it legal to include that in a will?"
"I doubt it," Victor mutters. His hands clench tight around the edge of his desk. "But the old bastard got his lawyers to agree. They filed every loophole available to make sure my inheritance is contingent on my civil status.”
"Wow. I'm sorry, sir. I imagine that's difficult."
St. Clair is never going to marry. I know that from working a year with him. Hell, I'd known it after working for him a week. He dated like a tomcat. Over the past couple of months I'd set him up on dates nearly every week.
Not to mention there wasn't a woman in this world who'd tolerate the long hours he worked. The man had even spent Christmas Day in the office and forced me to answer his emails remotely.
And then there’s the issue of his personality, of course.
“It’s ridiculous," he says. "But as it so happens, I've decided to do it."
"To get married, sir? To whom?”
“I’m glad you asked, Miss Myers," he says. There’s a hint of humor in the ice blue of his eyes. "To you."
“You want me to marry you?”
Victor meets my gaze. I've never looked at him for this long before. It's terrifying. "You want a new job.”
"Not as your wife."
“Marrying me would get you out of this office."
"Yes, but not away from you."
St. Clair blinks once and then his usual scowl breaks, lips curving. Something glitters in his eyes and damned if it doesn't make me more afraid. "I always knew you wouldn't last a year.”
My hands curl into fists, nails digging into the meat of my palm. “Six days from now,” I say, "I will have worked for you for an entire year."
“Well, then you have nothing to lose."
The man is serious. There are a billion reasons why this is a bad idea, but as I grope for them, I say the first one I can think of. "But you're not the marrying type."
The same half curl to his lips. "This would be a marriage in name only, Miss Myers. We would not actually be in a relationship."
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