Being the son of Aphrodite isn’t as great as it sounds. Unwilling to accept his demi-god status, Toraos Stephanos struggles to keep the immortal world and his personal life separate. Thank the gods for Nikki, his efficient and safe assistant.
For six years Nikki has silently pined for her boss. Unaware that she is anything other than an ordinary human, Nikki accepts her role as Tor’s competent assistant—no matter how much she wishes otherwise.
A bottle of Ambrosia and one night of passion not only activate Nikki’s goddess powers, but leave Tor with an unquenchable thirst that only Nikki can slate. As the daughter of Ares, Nikki’s new penchant for combat has her gearing up to do battle. Will either of the lovers come out a victor in matters of the heart?
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Holy Mary, mother of God, the man was half-naked.
Flawless, tan skin stretched across a perfect muscular back. Her boss, Tor, oozed more sex appeal than any man had the right to possess—especially around her. After six years of working at Kythera Cosmetics, she still lusted for him as much as she had the day she started. Were her thighs actually sweating?
Nikki snapped her gaping mouth closed and squeezed her lids shut. The dirty little desires she normally kept tucked away tumbled through her mind. Once again, she screwed her contrived disinterest in place and opened her eyes.
“Wednesday is great.” Tor turned and flashed his impressive eight pack as he waved her inside with the shirt he held in his hand. “I can’t foresee any problems.”
For the love of God, man, cover up.
He smiled and pointed to the phone, adding a thumbs-up. She lifted her brows and grinned, returning the gesture. Only one thing could make him this happy so early in the morning this week: landing Creed Killion as the new creative director for the Goddess line of cosmetics.
Tor propped one hand on his hip and stared at the floor, listening to the man on the other end of the phone, and Nikki let her eyes wander over his naked chest, his tapering waist, and the dark patch of hair that dipped into uncharted territory. She really needed to get a life instead of pining away for her boss. He’d never given her any indication that he thought of her in that way, but still, she couldn’t seem to shake this intense attraction. At twenty-seven, she should be able to compartmentalize her feelings for him, but no matter how hard she tried, her pesky crush kept rearing its ugly head.
“Fantastic! I’ll have my assistant call you with the details. Thanks, Creed.”
He hung up the phone with a shout of success, pulling Nikki from her depressing thoughts, and she forced excitement into her question. “Creed Killion?”
His kissable mouth spread into a pearly smile as he snapped a steel gray T-shirt against his desk. “We got him.”
“I knew he wouldn’t say no to your offer.” She set her stack of files on his desk and, when he slid the shirt over his head, she tried not to stare as the fabric slowly hid his assets.
In reality, she wasn’t sure why she struggled so hard to hide her interest. The man never thought about anything other than work. She could probably dry hump his leg and he’d tell her to file something while she was down there.
A hand jabbed the hem of the shirt into the waist of his form-fitting charcoal pants, giving the material a bit of extra attention in the front.
Lucky hand. Her mouth went dry.
He ran his fingers through his thick black hair, which obligingly fell into perfect order.
“Uh…” She fumbled to keep her train of thought. “Entrepreneurial 100 wants to do a photo spread of you for this year’s ‘most eligible bachelor’ edition.”
Tor raised an eyebrow and shot her a you-must-be-kidding-me look. “No.”
“You know, it might do Kythera Cosmetics good if they see the face behind the product.”
Personally, she rather agreed with Tor’s view of staying out of the limelight. He was exceedingly private. Even she didn’t know much more about him than the rest of the world did. Being the daughter of a public figure herself, she knew firsthand what vultures the paparazzi could be, circling for the tiniest shred of dirt. Thankfully her mother was too wrapped up in her own life to meddle in Nikki’s, and she’d never met her father—or even knew who he was for that matter.
“Tell them no.” As he smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt, the material pulled across his chest, defining each sculpted muscle.
Those things belonged in a museum.
“All right.” She bent over the files and flipped open the portfolio a little more vigorously than she’d intended, and the leather cover slapped the desk. She slid the papers across to him. “The papers for your charitable foundation are ready.” Tor’s generosity was legendary and one of the many reasons she’d fallen so hard for him.
“The day keeps getting better and better.”
His smile was genuine. Though he appeared all-business to most, she’d seen that persona fade while talking to the inner-city kids his foundation was meant to benefit.
“It’s a great cause.” She reached across the desk and pointed to the line at the bottom of the page. “I need your signa—”
A loud rap sounded at the door and a recognizable voice followed the opening of the door. “Morning.”
Nikki bit back her curse, grinding her teeth together before turning to face her least favorite person in the world. All six feet of Demetria Mirrors glided into the office. Five feet seven inches were woman; the other five inches were deadly stilettos. Clad in a form-hugging bright-red suit, she looked more like a supermodel than an attorney.
“Morning, Demi.” Tor nodded, picked up the file, and began reading the document she’d asked him to sign.
“I heard your excitement from the outer office,” Demetria said.
“Skulking outside the door, eavesdropping again?” Nikki muttered.
Demetria had only been working at the office for about three months, but it felt more like three years. The woman had an uncanny habit of always looking beautiful, her sultry poise constantly amped up to its highest setting. She made no pretense about her interest in Tor, which always raised Nikki’s hackles.
“What has you in such a good mood this morning?” Demetria sauntered across the room, her gaze sweeping over Nikki like a chilly morning breeze.
The feeling was mutual.
“Just got word that Creed Killion accepted the job as creative director for Goddess,” he replied.
“Oh Tor, that’s fantastic.” Demetria made a beeline for him, her coppery locks springing about her shoulders with each catwalk step she took. She circumvented the desk and moved in close to squeeze his arm. Not surprisingly, that required her to shove her ample bosom against his arm. “I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist working for Kythera Cosmetics.”
He smiled and pointed his pen at Nikki. “It was Nikki’s idea to hire him.”
“But you’re the reason he accepted. He’d be a fool not to want to work here.”
When Tor stepped away from Demetria to sit on the chocolate suede couch, Nikki had to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from smiling. This was an evasive maneuver she’d seen him employ hundreds of times over the last six years. He worked in a world of beautiful women and looked like a god. His ability to elude advances without offending was truly masterful.
But Demetria was not so easily put off. As Kythera’s new senior corporate counselor, she had a personality to match: a shark in heels. It galled Nikki how quickly she’d wormed her way into Tor’s affairs, making her legally indispensable. Demetria tried to squeeze Nikki out of her and Tor’s working equation. But that was not going to happen. Nikki had busted her butt to be the best at her job as executive assistant to the CEO and everything Tor needed. Yeah, she had no life outside of the office, but that wouldn’t last forever. Nikki had plans of her own, to travel the world anonymously, unlike when her mother had dragged her around the globe with her entourage. No amount of meddling from this floozy with a degree was going to change that.
Demetria’s gaze tracked to Nikki. “Did you do something different with your hair?”
Nikki absently patted her dishwater-blond strands. Like every day, she’d pulled it back into a tight bun. Complicated hairdos took too much time, and that was something she had little of. “No. This is how I wear it every day.”
“Yeah.” Demetria crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s the problem. I’ll give you the number to my hairdresser.”
“She looks fine.” Tor glanced up from the file. “Did you need something, Demi?”
With a graceful turn, the attorney eased one toned butt cheek onto the edge of his desk. How the woman could move in her skintight pencil skirt was a mystery. “I wanted to remind you about our meeting at ten o’clock. It should only take about twenty minutes.”
He returned his attention to the papers. “Right, ten.”
Her voice lowered an octave, taking on a sexy hum. “My office.”
Nikki rolled her eyes. Was this woman ever not in heat?
“Yep, your office, ten o’clock.” He waved the papers toward Nikki again. “Don’t worry, Nikki won’t let me forget.”
“Absolutely.” Nikki gave the bitch a bright smile. “I keep him on track.”
Demetria eased off the desk. If both women were barefoot, Nikki would stand several inches taller, but the heels the attorney constantly wore had her peering down her nose at others—all the better to intimidate the weaker employees, she assumed.
Not one to be so easily dismissed, Demetria continued, “Perhaps you should have Nikki set up a dinner meeting for Creed. Something intimate where you can discuss expectations and such.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” He glanced up. “Wednesday?”
“No problem.” Nikki typed a reminder into the office management app in her phone. “Seven o’clock?”
“Works for me,” Demetria said.
Nikki glanced up. “Oh, you’re coming?”
A delicately sculpted brow arched with perfect execution. “Of course I’ll be there. I’m Kythera’s lead attorney.”
“Right, but it’s not like they’ll be signing anything at a friendly meet and greet.”
“I will be there.” Demetria leaned across the desk. “But you feel free to stay home and scrapbook, or whatever it is you do when not working.”
Oh, she did not just disrespect the scrapbooking.
“Scrapbooking is hugely underrated.” Nikki couldn’t actually claim to be a scrapbooker. It was more like a paper addiction, namely buying copious amounts of decorative paper and pretty embellishments. Never in the five years of collecting scrapbooking accoutrements had she created a single tribute to a vacation, dead grandmother, or favorite pet. All the supplies were neatly stored in a convenient wheelie carrier in case the urge to generate a paper masterpiece ever overcame her though. “You should try it sometime. It’s very relaxing and might help get that stick out of your—”
A rap on the door interrupted Nikki’s expletive.
About the Author
Having lived all over the world, and finally settling in the icy region of Alaska, she's always looking for the next adventure. It's not unusual to find Boone traversing the remotest parts of the Alaskan bush, gathering information for her stories. No person or escapade is off limits when it comes to weaving real life experiences into her books or blogs.
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