Resisting the Billionaire by C. C. Snow Page B

dropped to his mouth. His lips were slightly
parted. I wondered if they felt as soft as they looked.
    Ring. Ring.
    I blinked.   Jake
stood upright, looking intently at me. Trying to clear the fuzz from my brain,
I inhaled deeply a few times before picking up the phone.
    “Weston Enterprises. Jake Weston’s office. How may I help you?”
    A contralto voice purred on the other end, “Yes. I’d like to
talk to Jake.”
    “Can I tell him who’s calling?”
    “Si. Tell him it’s his querida ,
Carolina.”
    I knew enough Portuguese to know the word for darling. I
swallowed against the lump in my throat. It was as if my talk with Jamie
conjured her up. “Let me check if he’s available.” Putting her on hold, I
looked up at Jake. “It’s Carolina. Do you want to take the call?”
    I didn’t know what reaction I expected, but the look of
alacrity on his face made my heart sink.
    Stupid girl, I
chastised myself. Whatever you imagined was
happening before her call was just in your head.
    He nodded. “Yes. I need to talk to her. Put her through to
line one.” Without another word, he strode into his office and closed the door.
    I pressed the button to transfer her to his line and stood
up from my desk. Suddenly, I was desperate for a moment of privacy and I
skedaddled to the bathroom. It was fortuitously empty. I braced my hands on the
sink and looked in the mirror. My eyes were too bright and my cheeks too pink.
To my shame, heat coursed through my body, concentrating in my core. I squeezed
my thighs together and felt the slickness at the apex of my legs.
    “This will not do, Cora girl.” I spoke to my reflection
sternly. “He’s got a supermodel girlfriend and you can’t jeopardize your plans
with your foolish thoughts. You should be thankful the phone call saved you
from doing something you’ll regret.” I nodded with satisfaction at my logical
reasoning and splashed cold water on my face. The last thing I wanted to be was
another assistant who didn’t know her place. I needed to keep my mental distance
from Jake Weston.
    I patted my face dry with a paper towel and took a few deep
breaths. Armed with new resolve, I returned to my desk and picked up the
report. When the numbers danced before my eyes, I gave up and stuffed it into
my purse. Maybe I’d have better luck at home.
    Stupid me– I decided to look up Carolina Oliveira.
Pictures of the Brazilian beauty filled my screen. With every click, an even
more beautiful version of her came up. Bronzed skin. Dramatic,
passionate eyes. Perfect body.
    To make sure I drove the point home, I searched for images
of her with Jake. Immediately, a photo popped up of them standing on the red
carpet at a film festival. He looked amazing in a tux, with his arms wrapped
around the model’s tiny waist. She was dressed in a burnt orange gown few women
could pull off. They looked like the quintessential power couple. Tall, beautiful and rich.
    The taste of bile on my tongue prompted me to close the
browser. There was a burning at the back of my eyes and I closed my eyes to
relieve the pressure.
    “You needed a reality check, Cora. No more daydreams,” I admonished
myself.
    An hour later, Jake’s door opened.
    “Cora, come into my office. We didn’t finish our
conversation.” His whole demeanor had lightened and I wondered if the talk with
his girlfriend had cheered him up.
    Unaccountably depressed by the thought, I pretended to look
for something on my desk. “I’ll be there in a sec.” When I was myself again, I
walked into his office.
    He grinned at me and I wanted to glower at his good mood,
but I kept my face neutral.
    He must have sensed my mood because he sobered quickly. “Is
something the matter?”
    “No, of course not.” I looked down at the report and spoke
briskly. “I couldn’t tell you exactly what it is, but something seems wrong
with Bauen’s financial statements. I need a bit more
time to find the cause though.”
      “Very good,
Cora. You