Much More Than a Mistress Read Free

meet his eyes. He was tall and lean and work-out-in-the-gym-every-morning fit.
    â€œYou must be the new temp,” he said, reaching across the desk to shake her hand, which was still gripping the cup of coffee and damp from the sloshing. She quickly switched the cup to the opposite hand, wiped the damp one on her skirt and took his hand. It was big and warm and surprisingly rough for such a polished-looking guy.
    His grip was firm and confident and she could swear she felt the effects all the way to her knees. She also didn’t miss the way he gave her a quick once-over, one brow slightly raised.
    â€œI’m Jane Monroe,” she said.
    â€œIt’s a pleasure to meet you, Jane Monroe.”
    No, the pleasure was definitely hers, though she still didn’t have clue who he was.
    â€œBy the way,” he said. “Someone named Mary called.”
    Her heart stalled. Her sister Mary? How could she possibly have known where Jane was working? Her family didn’t even know she was working for Edwin Associates. “She called here? ”
    â€œYour cell,” he said, opening the top drawer and holding up her cell phone.
    â€œYou answered my phone?” Who the hell did this guythink he was? And how could she be so stupid as to leave it unattended in her desk with the ringer on?
    â€œActually, it went to voice mail before I found it in the drawer. But the display said it was Mary.”
    Whoever this guy was, he had a lot of nerve. “Do you make it a habit of snooping through people’s private property?”
    He shrugged. “Only if I think I’ll find something interesting.”
    That was not the answer she expected. “Who are you?”
    â€œYou don’t know?”
    â€œShould I?”
    The smile went from curious to amused. “I’m Jordan Everette, Miss Monroe. Your new boss.”

Two
    â€œM -Mr. Everette,” Miss Monroe stammered, the color draining from her flawlessly painted face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”
    â€œNot quite what you expected, I guess,” Jordan said.
    She shook her head, pulling her full bottom lip between her teeth.
    Well, neither was she. In fact, he was surprised that anyone had shown up at all.
    â€œSo, the temp agency sent you?” he asked.
    â€œThat’s right.”
    Funny, he had called the agency Friday afternoon to see what was taking so long—usually they had a temp to his office within hours of the request—but they had no record of a request ever being submitted. Yet here she was, bright and early Monday morning, standing in his office.
    For a couple of weeks now there had been a strange vibe in the office. Something was just… off. He could onlyassume that the focus of the investigation into the explosion at the refinery had now moved from his employees to him.
    After six years of loyal service, and three as Chief Operations Officer, he would have thought Adam Blair, Western Oil’s current CEO, would trust him by now. And if they had concerns, why not just ask him? Why this elaborate charade?
    Because if they mistrusted him enough to think he could do this sort of thing—put his workers’ lives in jeopardy—they probably didn’t think he would tell the truth if confronted. So instead they hired someone to do what? Seduce it out of him? He couldn’t imagine another reason they would send a woman who looked as though she moonlighted as a runway model.
    Did they really think he was that shallow?
    They obviously thought a lot less of him than he did of them. He would have at least hoped that his brother Nathan, the Chief Brand Officer, would come clean and tell him the truth. If he even knew, that is. Hell, for all Jordan knew Adam could be investigating him too. Maybe even Emilio Suarez, the CFO.
    The weight of the betrayal sat like a stone in his gut, but his options were limited. He could confront Adam and put an end to the investigation, but