The Carrero Effect - Falling for the Boss (Billionaire CEO)

He pats the sofa next to him suggestively, a cheeky Carrero glint in his eye but I continue with my notes refusing to make eye contact.

“I think not, Mr. Carrero.” Sighing inwardly at the man I have to deal with every day; he’s never dull anyway.

“Your loss.” He closes his eyes again. We pause as we hear voices in the room next to us, faint and distant, that quickly evaporate as the intruders leave again. Both of us silent and still.

“You’ve a meeting in about fifteen minutes, I’m sure half those suits are going to be in it.” I point out, sounding unamused and bored.

“I’ll just imply I was busy elsewhere.” He shrugs, refusing to open those eyes and managing to look crazily attractive in this pose. I sigh.

“Busy doing what?”

“Busy in a cupboard with my PA, trying out the softness of the couch.” He smirks, opening one eye and then the other slowly, to grin at me.

“I’m not having you imply we were up to no good somewhere in this building. Do you know how quickly that would get around the temp pool?” I respond calmly; this is a repetitive conversation which only makes me sigh again. Only I would be lumbered with a boss as trying as this, who loves nothing more than to stress me out. The sexual innuendos never run out with him or the jokes about implicating us.

“We are up to no good, may as well get on the couch and make it worth your while. I’m sure I could help un-wrinkle that skirt.” I roll my eyes; he’s in his playful mood. I probably won’t get much work done this afternoon at all when he is like this. He’s trying at the best of times, but worse in playful mode. I check my watch in irritation, we should get out of here.

“In your dreams,” I respond drily, trying my hardest to ignore him.

“Always.” He throws me a quick eyebrow lift, a cheeky smile. I remain impassive. He’s tiresome and we have a meeting we should already be arriving at. Needless to say, he no longer intimidates me, and his overly familiar behavior is a sign that we have grown somewhat closer in the past weeks. He stopped behaving quite so properly a while ago and I gave up objecting because he is simply too exhausting.

He’s watching me as I smooth a stray hair back into my French knot, aware that his eyes are on me. I raise mine in question. Throwing him my haughty look. My silent, “What?”

sometimes you know?” He’s watching me now, a strange look on his face and a faraway glaze to his

what?” I mumble trying to sort my jacket out. He really did a number

reading

a new email I received. It’s finance asking for the spreadsheets we finished this

Mr. Carrero.” I close my iPad inside it’s

Have I made you pout, Miss. Anderson?”

he pisses me off, he thinks I’m

am. He did haul me into a cupboard

need the boundaries redefined, seeing as you just manhandled me into a closet.” I

hate that he always manages to make me cave, even when he’s pissed me off.

I gesture at the door impatiently with a nod, crossing my

walk out.” He turns, getting comfy again to watch me move. A look of wickedness gracing his

He couldn’t run things quite so well without me. “Reason being sexual harassment … … Again!” I raise my voice to highlight my

leave me, Emma … You adore working for me too much. You would miss my sexual harassment.” The laugh in his voice indicates

Ass.

though I’m serious and fight the urge to smirk.

small walk to my old desk and I can check most of the floor is vacant, with only the regular secretaries milling around and paying no heed to me. I pull out my cell and text him that all is quiet rather than

from his father. Sometimes he acts like a

a strand of my hair back down from my French knot. I could slap him, he knows how much his fussing my hair annoys me, yet it’s something he does several times a day for a reaction. I smooth it back in place and curse under my breath at his back, resisting the urge to throw him a finger. I pick up the files for the meeting and check my watch again, we

* * *

quickly. The two Carrero men go at it like raging bulls as I stand outside, observing the many eyes watching them through the glass. I stand with my back to them, iPad in hand as I reply to emails and I can hear them arguing in Italian so that no one