My Favorite Boss Read Online Melanie Moreland

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Funny Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
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Ms. Myers, with her dark eyes and sweet-smelling chestnut hair, was definitely a distraction. And I had a feeling she was going to be a problem. She was a lot of problems rolled into a small little ball of prettiness.

And I had hired her.

I was an idiot.

Then I shook my head. I handled problems all the time. Made fast decisions and stopped smaller problems from becoming bigger ones with one determined course of action. I could handle Ms. Myers. From now on, she was simply an employee. The fact that I was attracted to her was a problem I could contain.

I could do this.

I only hoped, come Monday, she didn’t look as appealing as she had today.

In fact, I was certain I had overstated her attractiveness. She had knocked me off my game when she had…knocked me off-balance. I grimaced, recalling how she’d felt on top of me. I shook my head to clear it.

She was just an employee.

And I only had to remember that for six weeks to win my bet. By that time, I was sure she would have faded into the background.

Then I realized I was still holding her scarf. Fingering the silk like it was her skin.

With a curse, I dropped the scarf on the desk she would be sitting at and walked out of the office.

I only sniffed my hand once on the way to my car.

Handling it.

Yep.

Chapter Three

BANE

She was already there when I arrived on Monday, her coat draped over the chair behind her desk, but the office empty. I glanced at my watch, surprised. It was barely seven-thirty. I looked around, wondering where she was, when she cleared her throat from behind me. I turned to say good morning, the words freezing in my throat.

She wore another old-fashioned blouse. Lace at her throat and wrists. It was a soft mossy green, and the skirt she wore was perfectly modest yet, on her, was sexy as hell. It fit her perfectly, molded to her hips and thighs as if it was made for her.

Her hair was up, swept away from her face. I had a vision of pulling it down and burying my fingers in it as I kissed her. I had to take a step back and shake my head, the lure of her was so strong.

I dropped my gaze to her feet, then met her confused gaze. “Managed to keep your shoes on this time,” I observed, my voice clipped.

She smiled, and I instantly regretted my words. I didn’t want to have any sort of relationship or inside jokes with her. She was simply someone to make my life easier at the office.

That was all.

“No missing the bus this morning. I’ll get your coffee, then head to HR. I was told to come back at eight.”

“What time did you get here?”

“Oh, about seven. Pete let me up. We made friends Friday when I left. Lovely man.”

She turned and walked away, and I almost groaned at the slit up the back of her skirt and the way the material hugged her ass.

I headed into my office and hung up my coat, then sat at my desk. Ms. Myers walked in, carrying a steaming cup of coffee and setting it down, then took a seat in the same chair she’d been in on Friday. She opened a notebook, her pen poised.

“What shall I call you?” she asked.

“My name,” I said drolly.

“First or business?”

“Business.”

“All right, Mr. Bane. I have my morning mapped out, but is there something you need?”

I pushed the coffee toward her. “Very pretty coffee, Myers, but I like it black. No milk, no sugar, no foamy designs needed.”

She frowned, looking disappointed. “I thought so, but I wanted you to see how great I can make a cup look. I’ll drink it and bring you a plain black one.” She paused, then grinned. “If you want to impress a client with my coffee skills, just let me know.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” I replied dryly, trying not to notice how lovely she was when she smiled. “Normally, the only things needed to impress them are my skills, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

I stared at her, waiting. She met my gaze. Her dark eyes were warm, framed by long lashes. Very little makeup again, which somehow suited her more than a heavy hand with the eyeliner.

I sighed. “I still have no coffee.”

“Oh, right.” She sprang from her chair, rushing away.

I shook my head and, curious, took a sip of the foamy coffee. I had to admit, it was tasty. There was a slightly creamy edge to it, as well as a flavor I couldn’t place. Both countered the normally bitter brew that wasn’t unpleasant. My phone buzzed, and I looked down, scrolling through the messages. One was from my mother, demanding to see me. I went past that one, not wanting to deal with her and her orders at the moment. The rest, I could handle later.



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