Office Hours Read Free Page B

for her. Anya King was among a handful of women he respected. Most of the women he’d come across wanted to fuck their way to a promotion—in his book a promotion was earned and not on the back.
    Some business associates might take what younger, ambitious women had on offer, and maybe if he’d been younger he would have too, but he’d had his fill of women willing to do anything for a price, and now he was looking for the woman who’d do anything just because she wanted to and not because of what she might gain financially.
    Nathan found he prayed every day for such a woman.
    He mindlessly soothed back Anya’s hair with his fingers as he continued to take in the views outside the window, musing on how trusting she was as she lay in his lap.

    OFFICE HOURS
    Sam Crescent
    16

Chapter Two
    “Anya…Anya…Anya…” On and on her name was called, her body being shaken ever so slightly. Anya swatted at the offending interruption with her hand.
    “Go away,” she grumbled, squeezing the comfortable, but stiff, pillow.
    “Anya, we’re here.” The call was soothing, trying to draw her out of her incredibly erotic dream.
    “I’m asleep. Whoever you are, leave your number, I won’t call,” she growled. She kept her eyes shut, trying to fall back to sleep.
    “What?”
    Anya opened her eyes wide. No way , she shouldn’t be able to hear that voice in her flat.
    No way , that voice wouldn’t call her by her given name. Her eyes travelled up the long, lean leg she was currently squeezing, travelling up until she met the face of her boss.
    Oh shit.
    Anya jerked into a sitting position so fast that she fell in a heap on the limousine floor.
    Slightly bewildered, she looked up to see hills upon hills separated by olde worlde dry-stone walls outside the car windows. Greenery was everywhere, stretching as far as the eye could see.
    Buxton?
    “Where are we?” she asked, trying to distract Nathan from the question he must have been dying to ask.
    “Buxton. This is where we’ll be staying.” He gestured to a quaint-looking pub that, according to the sign, served Italian food all day long.
    “A pub?” she questioned.
    “What is wrong with a pub?” he queried, still staring curiously at her.
    “Nathan Banks, you’re a multi-millionaire—surely you prefer a few of the little creature comforts us mere mortals are used to as well.” It was the first time she’d ever spoken of his extreme wealth.
    He laughed. “I love my creature comforts. I love a nice soft bed, a good bouncy pillow, a warm place to stay, hot delicious food…”
    OFFICE HOURS
    Sam Crescent
    17
    “Precisely,” Anya agreed.
    “But this is not about creature comforts, Anya, this is about working together in the wilderness.”
    “This isn’t the wilderness, sir, this is a pub. There’s probably less wildlife.” Anya pulled herself back onto the seat beside him and looked out at the place she’d be staying. A beautiful place—she wouldn’t tell him how much she looked forward to staying there. On all of his other business trips, he’d demanded top-rate hotel accommodation, no expense spared.
    Those sorts of places really unnerved Anya—she didn’t like the attitudes of the wealthy elite.
    They tended to think they could have anything and anyone. If anyone turned them down, they just increased the price. Some of Nathan’s friends had propositioned her in the past, and if she’d been any other woman, she was sure they’d have succeeded in scaring or bribing her into bed. But she was not any ordinary woman, she was Anya King. Anya King took shit from no one. It had been nice to see their shocked features when she’d refused their offers of sex, and other things. One married man had even offered her a place as his primary mistress, living in wealth and luxury for the rest of her life. The guy had been a pig, a little older than Nathan but not by much, a pompous ass who had thought she was for sale. She’d soon taught him a thing or two. His