“India, remember how we discussed knocking?” The woman sprawled across Sean’s desk said nothing as she stood and smiled at him, adjusting her clothes while Sean disposed of the condom. She had dark hair and dark eyes and a lovely body, and he couldn’t for the life of him remember her name.
“Why would he need someone to talk to, honey? He’s Sean Blackstone,” the woman said as she buttoned her blouse.
India, the worst administrative assistant in the history of administrative assistants, lowered her hand and gave the woman a hard stare, like she was about to fight her. Over his need to have someone to talk to, or because of something else?
“Everyone needs someone to talk to. He’s human, he’s not just a body and a handsome face.”
Celia? That sounded right. Celia stared hard at India, and her gaze was biting and dismissive. “That kind of advice makes sense from someone who looks like you, I’m sure,” she said as she huffed out of the room, grabbing the file folder she had come in to talk to him about.
India frowned and met Sean’s eyes, her bright blue eyes stunning behind those wacky glasses she wore. “What did that mean? I’m hot. You should see me in my casual clothes. I get hit on a lot.”
“India, focus,” he snapped, trying to put his dick away without showing it to his assistant. India was not, in fact, hot. She was breathtakingly beautiful, tall and elegant, with killer legs, glossy blonde hair, and blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. She hid it, though Sean wasn’t entirely sure why. Most of the women in his office played up their physical assets, but with India, it took a moment to notice. It was strange. She didn’t seem very smart, so beauty was likely her only asset. “Why did you storm in here?”
She looked confused for a moment, then smiled, as if something had suddenly come back to her. “There’s a guy waiting to see you. I forgot his name.”
“Is it someone I want to see?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s a personal choice, isn’t it? I’m going to go back to my job.”
“Your job is literally to tell me who is here to see me,” he said. She shrugged and gave him a sunny smile, which only earned her a glare. “Go get me coffee. And I know you bought instant coffee again and hid it in the upper cabinet of the break room.” Her eyes widened at this.
She moved in close and leaned over. “I can’t figure out the coffee machine,” she whispered, like it was a dirty little secret. It was not a secret, it was patently obvious from the taste of every cup of coffee she had brought him since she had started work for him.
His dick, which had a mind of its own lately, twitched back to life at her proximity. Ever since this woman, who had no sexual interest in him, became his secretary, he was constantly thinking about sex. Everything she did made him think about sex, even the stupid stuff like tell him he had messages she had accidentally deleted.
“I can find you good coffee. At a coffee shop,” she said.
“Okay, send my meeting in, and go to a coffee shop and get some good coffee. And knock before you come in next time.”
“On the upside,” she said as she opened the door to leave. “I finally got to see your legendary cock.”
“India,” he growled.
“I’m still not going to let you spank me, but I can see why women are tempted.” She winked and slipped out of the room. A moment later, his uncle walked in. And fuck, he was going to have to yell at India again.
“Carstairs, I have a restraining order against you.” Sean’s bit out. Sean’s mother had come from a big family with the kind of questionable ties that led to a lot of suspicious “accidental” deaths, and his uncles were the only two who remained of that generation. Even though Sean’s mother had distanced herself from her brothers, the brothers had targeted Sean and the company several times since his father’s death.
“What the police don’t know won’t hurt them,” Carstairs said with a smarmy smile that reminded Sean of a cartoon villain.
He pushed the intercom button to ask security to call the police, but before he could do anything, India rushed back in, glanced at Carstairs and said, in a completely serious voice, “I have black belts in Krav Maga and Wushu. I suggest you leave.”
His uncle laughed. “So now you keep geeky blondes around for security?”
India looked down at herself. “How can you tell I’m geeky?”
“Doll, it’s obvious. Luscious ass, though.” He grabbed India’s ass, which turned out to be a grave mistake. Within seconds, his uncle was on the floor and her knee was on his throat. Sean wasn’t even sure what had happened. She reached into Carstairs’s jacket and pulled out two guns, dropping the cartridges out of them and clearing the chambers like a seasoned professional before tossing them aside.
“Don’t fuck with me. You know nothing about me,” she said in a quiet, dangerous voice that didn’t match her ditzy persona at all. Sean sensed that he wasn’t supposed to hear this voice from her. She stood. Carstairs reached for her ankle, and she hissed a curse and smashed the heel of her completely unsexy black flat into his nose, leaving Carstairs gushing blood and groaning.
“What the fuck is this, Sean? I’m going to call the cops,” Carstairs snapped, wiping the blood from his nose.
“Call the cops and tell them my assistant kicked you in the face while you were violating the restraining order and groping her? You were armed.” Sean picked up the guns and cartridges that India had slid across the room. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do with them. “Leave. Now. Before I ask her to kick your ass even harder.”
His uncle cursed and stormed out of the room, and India stood there, grinning. “You don’t like when people grope me,” she said, brushing her hands together. “Fascinating.”
“What was that martial arts thing you did?”
She blinked. “I had an unconventional upbringing. Also, you bring out some weird mama bear protective instincts in me. I think it’s the sad eyes.”
