A Bride For The Boss. Maureen Child
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“You make it sound like I’m your cheating wife.”
She sighed. “I didn’t leave you. I left my job.”
But she had left him, Mac thought. It hadn’t felt like an employee walking out, but a betrayal.
“Same thing.” His gaze fixed on her and for the first time, he noticed that she wore a tiny tank top and a silky pair of drawstring pants. Her feet were bare and her toenails were painted a soft blush pink. Her hair was long and loose over her shoulders, just skimming the tops of her breasts.
Mac took a breath and wondered where that flash of heat swamping him had come from. He’d been with Andi nearly every day for the past six years and he’d never reacted to her like this before. Sure, she was pretty, but she was his assistant. The one stable, organized, efficient woman in his life, and he’d never taken the time to notice that she was so much more than that.
Now it was all he could notice.
* * *
A Bride for the Boss is part of the series Texas Cattleman’s Club: Lies and Lullabies–Baby secrets and a scheming sheikh rock Royal, Texas
A Bride for the Boss
Maureen Child
MAUREEN CHILD writes for the Mills & Boon Desire line and can’t imagine a better job.
A seven-time finalist for a prestigious Romance Writers of America RITA® Award, Maureen is an author of more than one hundred romance novels. Her books regularly appear on bestseller lists and have won several awards, including a Prism Award, a National Readers’ Choice Award, a Colorado Romance Writers Award of Excellence and a Golden Quill Award. She is a native Californian but has recently moved to the mountains of Utah.
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To all of the wonderful writers in this fabulous continuity series—it’s been an honour working with all of you.
And to Charles Griemsman, thanks for being such a great editor and for not tearing your hair out during this process!
Contents
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Epilogue
“What do you mean, you quit?” David “Mac” McCallum stared at his assistant and shook his head. “If this is a joke, it’s not funny.”
Andrea Beaumont took a deep breath, then said sharply, “Not a joke, Mac. I’m dead serious.”
He could see that, and he didn’t much care for it. Usually when Andi stepped into his office, it was to remind him of a meeting or a phone call, or to tell him she’d come up with some new way to organize his life and business.
But at the moment, she had angry glints firing in her normally placid gray eyes, and he’d do well to pay attention. Having a younger sister had taught him early to watch his step around women. Violet had a temper that could peel paint, and Mac knew that a wise man stayed out of range when a woman got a certain look about her. Right now, Andi—his calm, cool, organized executive assistant—appeared to be ready for battle.
Andi looked the same as always, even though she was in the middle of tossing his well-ordered world upside down. June sunlight slipped through the wide windows at Mac’s back and poured over her like molten gold. Her long, straight, dark brown hair hung past the shoulders of the pale blue blazer she wore over a white dress shirt and dark blue jeans. Black boots, shined to a mirror gleam, finished off the outfit. Her storm-gray eyes were fixed on him unblinkingly and her full, generous mouth was pinched into a grim slash of determination.
Looked like they were about to have a “discussion.”
Mac braced himself. Whatever she had in mind just wasn’t going to fly. He couldn’t afford to lose her. Hell, running McCallum Enterprises was a full-time job for ten men and damned if he’d let the woman who knew his business as well as he did simply walk away.
She’d been his right-hand man—woman—person—for the last six years and Mac couldn’t imagine being without her. When something needed doing, Andi got it done. Mac didn’t have to look over her shoulder, making sure things were handled. He could tell her what he needed and not worry about it. Andi had a knack for seeing a problem and figuring out the best way to take care of it.
She could smooth talk anyone, and if that didn’t work, he’d seen her give an opponent a cool-eyed glare that could turn their blood cold. There’d been plenty of times when Mac had actually enjoyed watching her stare down an adversary. But he had to say, being on the receiving end of that icy look wasn’t nearly as enjoyable.
What had brought this on?
“Why don’t you take a seat and tell me what’s got you so angry.”
“I don’t want a seat,” she said. “And I don’t want to be soothed like you do those horses you love so much...”
He frowned. “Then what exactly do you want?”
“I already told you. I want to quit.”
“Why the hell would you want to do that?”
Her gray eyes went wide, as if she couldn’t believe he even had to