The Playboy Boss's Chosen Bride
JAKE DEVILA finished shaving and slapped some Platinum around his jaw, a cologne that had most women sniffing with interest. But not his prim and proper personal assistant, the indomitable Merlina Rossi. She invariably wrinkled her nose at it as though it was offensive.
He grinned to himself in the vanity mirror.
The idea that had come to him last night was sure to blast her usually impenetrable composure.
He really enjoyed getting to her, sitting back and watching the fireworks explode in her amber eyes. The eyes of a tiger, he'd often thought, and wondered if she'd ever unsheathe her claws and cut him to ribbons. Could be exciting—all that repressed passion bursting out, attacking him.
Unfortunately such a loss of control would probably lead to the end of the game and he didn't want that. Mel— she hated being called Mel and her endurance of it was another source of amusement to him—was his salt, a piquant contrast to the sugar of all the other women who sweetened his life. He'd miss her if she walked out on him. Still, he couldn't give up the exciting sense of brinkmanship with her. It was irresist ... read full excerpt from: The Playboy Boss's Chosen Bride ebook
