‘In my office, Serena.’
Serena Jacobs’ fingers jerked on her keyboard at the curt command that boomed from her desktop intercom. She shot the machine a withering look and heard the sharp click as it shut off.
Typical! No please. No thank you. Not even the courtesy of waiting for her reply. Yet more proof that Jack Strider, her new boss of two weeks, had less manners than Sammy.
The thought of her five-year-old son had Serena taking two deep breaths as she picked up her notepad. Calm down. Christmas was less than a week away and Sammy’s kids’ club fees were going up in January. She couldn’t afford to loose this job.
‘Sounds like the Hunk wants more coffee.’ Her colleague Tracy winked from the desk opposite, her Santa earrings bobbling.
‘He’s not a hunk,’ Serena snapped.
‘Rubbish.’ Tracey snorted out an incredulous laugh. ‘Dreamy blue eyes, jet black hair, a tight squeezable butt and that master-of-industry act wrapped in six foot three of toned, Armani-clad muscle. A woman would have to be dead not to classify that guy as a hunk.’
Ignoring Tracy, and the ridiculous little leap under her breastbone at the thought of those Armani-clad muscles, Serena forced a tight smile onto her face and walked into Strider’s office busy chanelling good will to all men.
The smile lasted about five seconds. The good will not much longer.
