Page 478 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Yup, that’s James. But I’ll have you know that he’s a gigantic softie underneath it all.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m serious. He might seem like this no-nonsense businessman, but the only reason he works so hard is to make sure his family is taken care of.”

I felt a pinch in my chest at the mention of family. How lucky the Bransons were to have each other.

“And if he sent you here that means he really trusts you,” Christopher continued.

I hoped my face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Oh, I, uh, I’m sort of diving into this project on my own. We didn’t actually talk about me coming over.”

It was in that moment that I realized I was going to have to come clean with James and let him know what I’d done. Hopefully Christopher would go to bat for me if necessary.

“Even better. He loves a self-starter,” Christopher said.

Why did my heart stutter out of rhythm at the thought of James loving anything about me? The man was a bosshole through and through…wasn’t he? I thought I’d taken his measure, but if Christopher was right, then I hadn’t met the real James Branson yet.

“Speaking of being a self-starter…would you feel comfortable with me taking these designs back to the office to be added to our archives? I promise I’ll treat them like museum docents.”

“Yeah. That would be incredible. We’re way behind on that sort of stuff, so thank you for taking the lead.” Christopher smiled at me. “I can tell already that you’re a phenomenal addition to the team.”

I blushed again as I wondered how in the world two such different men could be brothers.

10

NATALIE

The hand traveling up my thigh set off sparks along my skin.

We weren’t supposed to be doing this. It was wrong, but it felt so right. My body was aching for him.

His breath was hot against my neck, and each kiss was a brand. James was claiming me.

“Do you want me to stop?” he rasped in my ear. He nipped my earlobe and my head fell back from the sheer pleasure of it all.

Did I? My brain listed all of the reasons why I needed to push him away and be done with him forever, but I was desperate for his touch.

His mouth found mine again, and as we kissed, our lips betrayed the need we both felt. I arched against him, my nimble fingers searching for his skin beneath his velvet vest.

Velvet?

“No matter what happens after, know that my thoughts will always be filled with memories of you. The soft skin of your breasts, the warmth between your legs, begging for my attention…”

His fingertips finally brushed against my soft folds, and I bit back a cry. It was the first time he was touching me, but James was playing me like a maestro. I felt ready to unravel almost immediately.

“If you were still in your petticoat, I wouldn’t be able to do this,” he said as he stroked me, gentling my legs wider apart.

Hold on. Petticoat?

James must have sensed hesitation because he pulled away, his eyes stormy. “May I continue my journey?”

I was about to answer but everything went sluggish, like I was underwater and struggling back to the surface. Someone was yelling at me to hurry up, and it didn’t sound at all like James.

I opened my eyes and slapped off my alarm.

It was just a dream. My hand was shoved in my pajama bottoms.

I wanted to scream out in frustration. It was the third time I’d had a rake dream with James replacing the star of the novel, and the third time it had ended before I could get off. I was so horny I could barely see straight.